Kiss of the Dragon (34 page)

This could be the end of us. This was bigger than I had anticipated, spilling over the sides of the island and starting to creep across the various bridges, towards the rest of Paris' CBD. It was like a rolling snowball, getting larger and larger, gathering dirt and debris and muck and rocks, as it tumbled uncontrolled down the side of a mountain. The bigger it got, the harder it would be to stop. And even though we hadn't lost another Councillor on our side, they hadn't lost any yet at all.

But people were dying.

Vampires. Ghouls. Dragons. Nosferatins. I couldn't feel their deaths, like I felt a Councillor's. I could see the dust of the vampires though. I could see the beheaded bodies of the ghouls. I spotted the crumpled form of a dragon, right before it reverted to human form, indicating the shifter had either lost consciousness, or looking at the amount of blood that pooled beneath him, died. And, dear Goddess, I could see several Nosferatins being drained dry.

A sob escaped my trembling lips. I should be down there. I am their Prophesied. I should be fighting at their sides. I could feel the pull. That evil-lurks-in-my-city pull. The one that tells me a Dark vampire is about to take an innocent's life. It was so strong, so close, so many. It was tearing me up inside. Eating me from inside out. Clawing at my chest. Slashing at my stomach. I doubled over on a cry of pure despair.

So many dying and Avery Rousseau, the Plucking Pervert, the cowardly bastard, wasn't even here. I couldn't
see
him on the island. And as desperation for revenge at what I was being forced to witness engulfed me, I
sought
him further afield.

Not in Vampire Central of the city.

Not in Paris.

But I found him. Somewhere he shouldn't have been.

It made no sense. Why was he
there
? What was there that could get at me?

My legs gave out as realisation hit me. Matthew and Kathleen. Michel's valet, Christopher. The only ones to be left at the
Château
.

"No," I hoarsely whispered, knowing the truth even as I tried to deny it.

I felt Michel's responding anguish, as my emotions slammed into his mind. His gentle, but urgent, sifting of my thoughts, let him know exactly what I had found. Avery Rousseau wasn't here in Paris to fight us. He was in
Saint-Geoire-en-Valldaine,
at
Le Château.

Tell me they got away?
I desperately thought at Michel.

His broken whisper in my mind, told me all I needed to know, even as his words didn't.
Ma douce.

Anger, like I had never felt, welled up inside. Matthew and Kathleen had been with Michel all their lives. They were human servants who had no defence against a vampire such as Avery Rousseau. Christopher would have put up a valiant effort. Wielded a sword. Tried to protect them for as long as he could. But my gut told me Avery had not acted alone. Viktor was no doubt with him, and together the carnage they could have caused, both physically and mentally, was unreal.

I couldn't stop it. I vomited up what little was in my stomach on the rooftop at my feet. I groaned through the dry retching, feeling Natalyia hold my hair away from the spittle and Samson rub my back, but the desire to empty my stomach would not cease. I panted through the nausea, on my hands and knees. I could hear Gregor talking quietly with Matthias, who had obviously confirmed our dearest friends' deaths. Amisi's cry of distress let me know she felt as useless as me.

And still the vampires, ghouls, dragons and Nosferatins battled before us. As we mourned our fallen, condemning Avery to a painful death in our minds, they took advantage of our distraction and methodically set about ending this battle once and for all.

Michel struggled against the Diviner, who somehow knew we were weakening in the face of Avery's underhanded attack. Through tear-filled eyes I watched the two separate battles begin to merge. The Imposter and the Nemesis, drawing their fight towards the Diviner's against Michel. The sheer numbers on their side, with the ghouls in full fighting mode, would overpower us. Even with the dragons on our side, we were losing. We needed a miracle. We need the Prophesied to get down there and selectively pick off the Dark vampires with her Light.

And every cell of my being wanted to do it, but my legs wouldn't hold me. My stomach wouldn't stop heaving. And those black spots that had threatened earlier, when dizziness began to show its ugly face, were back with a vengeance.

The illness I had all but forgotten in light of all the wretched death and destruction before me, made it impossible for me to fight as I was made to fight. My Light is magnificent. Under normal circumstances I could have done it. I could have stood on the rooftop and sent bolt after bolt through their Dark undead hearts.

But not as weakened and distracted by nausea as I was.

Avery had done it. I was sure this illness was caused by a charm or spell that he had placed on me. Knowing full well, that when crunch time came and my Light could have put a stop to it all, the illness would prevent me.

I lay down on the roof and closed my eyes, feeling like a coward for not bearing witness to the last of those who were to fall. But I could no longer hold my head up, the nausea consuming my every thought. The only reprieve was if I was lying flat on my back and perfectly still.

Goddess I felt sick and weak and ineffectual. A blubbering mess in the middle of the most horrific experience of my life.

"Lucinda," Gregor said gently at my ear. "Amisi and I will enter the battle. Do what we can."

A sob sounded from deep inside. Not them too. I knew their sacrifice would be in vain. Even as they gave their lives to prevent the deaths of others, it couldn't be stopped now. Avery had won. He had struck at the very heart of us, but covered his bases by completely incapacitating me.

I had been the jewel in our side's armour. We all knew it. Even if none of us said it. The Prophesied would step up to the plate and save the day. It's a responsibility that weighs heavily on my shoulders. But Nut would not have given it to me, unless I could carry that weight.

I reached out and grasped Gregor's hand, trying to convey the depth of regret I felt at what he was about to do.

"We'll go directly to Michel," Gregor said, his voice sounding stronger than before, as though now his mind was made up, nothing would stand in his way. "The Champion must be protected at all costs."

Yes. Protect the Champion, even as the
Iunctio
falls. Tears overwhelmed my eyes, my cheeks collected dust as it floated in the air and stuck to my wet face. I choked back a sob.

"Sebastian," Gregor said, standing after giving me one final hand squeeze. "Protect the Prophesied. Even if you have to pull back your
teaghlach
, she is now your only concern."

Sebastian murmured his understanding and I watched, through a veil of black spots and waterworks, as Gregor took Amisi's hand and began to turn away.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't watch them go to their deaths even if it meant Michel could survive. I simply couldn't do it. I tried to find my Light. It was there, it was waiting. But my efforts to direct it were clumsy, as though my fingers were numb and my aim was entirely off. A groan of delight from Samson at my side and a similar moan of ecstasy from Natalyia on the other side, let me know I was well and truly inept at wielding my Light right now. Without full control I had washed both vampires in its natural form: bliss.

Even as I sobbed with exhaustion and frustration, a bubble of hysterical laughter threatened to come up my throat. I could give all the baddies a metaphysical orgasm. It could be enough of a distraction for our side to slice off their heads, but I doubted it. My control was so non-existent that I'd likely send our team rolling around on the ground in pure rapture. No one would win.

"What are you doing?" Gregor demanded, standing over my prone form. Letting me know he hadn't left yet, and giving me a moment of relief, even as I knew it wouldn't last long. "Even I felt that," he added. "Don't waste your energy, you may need it if any get through to here."

Sound advice, but when had I ever listened to that?

"Don't go," I said, reaching up for his hand. He automatically took hold of it.

"Lucinda," he said, shaking his head. "
Ma cherie,
we must do what we can."

We must do what we can.

I used precious energy to locate all of the
Sanguis Vitam
down on the rubble strewn battle field. I sent a mind-message to Michel to stand-by, be prepared to follow my signal. I knew I couldn't wield Light. I knew I couldn't strike out at the opposition like that. But that is not all I am. I am the Prophesied. The one Nosferatin designed to balance the Dark with the Light.

There are three parts to the Prophesy. The
Sanguis Vitam Cupitor
, who
seeks
out the Dark vampires and knows where they are. The
Prohibitum Bibere
, who calls all the Dark vampires to her. And the
Lux Lucis Tribuo
, who washes them in Light, holding their Dark dear.

I was getting tired using the first one, and there was no way in hell I could master the last one. But luring a Dark vampire, I could literally do in my sleep. Most of the time, I kept that door shut, only opening the part of me that calls to them, when I am prepared. And not all of them will heed it, on a normal day. But with so much Dark around us and me being so very, very close, it would be impossible to resist. Today was not a normal day.

I'll warn the Councillors and my vampyres, ma douce
, Michel said as soon as the idea formed in my mind.

I felt my guards shift to defend as soon as Michel spoke in my head. I would be weak and useless, should the vampires get through, but if we timed this right, we could trap them. Bottle neck them in the building's stairwells and lower floors. Even out on the street.

Wait five minutes,
Michel said softly, imbuing a warmth in his voice that somehow made me feel better for feeling it,
for reinforcements to arrive where you are, then open yourself to the Dark. We will surround them, they will be confused and caught off guard.

I nodded, but I think he felt the sentiment through the Bond even if he couldn't see the act. It was getting difficult to stay conscious, my exhaustion making it almost unbearable to stay awake. Gregor must have told Amisi, because she wrapped herself around the back of me, sitting me up slightly, so I didn't feel as inclined to drift off to sleep. And then she began talking
at
me, whenever my head drooped to the side. Giving a shake here and there when needed, and encouragement that I could do this, when she felt my emotions dip low.

Five minutes felt like five hours, and to those still battling down in the rubble it was surely five hours in hell. But finally Gregor gave the signal and I flicked the latch on that door in my mind, that usually stayed firmly closed.

And felt the weight of hundreds of Dark vampires as their conscious minds all turned towards me.

Hunger.

Desire.

Desperation.

Need
.

A whimper escaped me just as they all turned as one, and flashed to our street.

The direct space around me on the rooftop was a blur. But with my mind open, with the
Prohibitum Bibere
powers switched on and blinking bright in the night sky, I could see it all unfold in crystal clear definition in my head.

It wasn't like a movie, or like the images Michel sends on occasion to my brain, showing me what he is doing. It was on a whole other plane. My powers are Goddess given and Nut is not of this world. So whatever it is that I do, is from her, from
there
. Maybe
Elysium
is that other plane. Maybe that was what I was seeing now. It was similar to what I
see
when I use my
Sanguis Vitam Cupitor
power, which appears as a map in my mind dotted with flashing red lights, but also different. More detailed, but less defined than real life.

It was real, but not real. Clear, but not clear. I couldn't make out the surrounding area, such as the paving on the street, or the colour of the bricks on the building at their backs. I couldn't see their faces, tell if they were blonde, or brunette, or red haired. Their clothes were non-existent. But I could see the colour of their eyes as their
Sanguis Vitam
flowed. And that's all I needed to see, because even though they weren't fully corporeal in my mind, I
knew
them. I recognised them. On this other plane they were familiar, their
Sanguis Vitam
signature all I needed to
see
to know where they were, what they were doing, how they were acting.

And how they met their final death.

Usually when I call or lure a Dark vampire to me, I wash them in my Light. I take their Dark and hold it dear. Give them a chance to choose right over wrong, good over evil. This time I wouldn't be doing that, and part of me screamed in frustration and guilt that I was calling these Dark vampires to me and not offering what they sought. I was using my powers in a way they were not intended to be used. Outside of the parameters of the Prophesy.

What would my Goddess think? How could I do this and live with myself afterwards?

How could I not? If I hadn't have done this, they would have won. Was winning at all costs that important?

As I lay there, unable to move on that rooftop, I struggled with what I had set in motion. It was entirely my choice, my decision, my action. If my Goddess struck out, it was only what I deserved. My body was failing me and right in that moment, my mind threatened to shut down as well. The guilt was incredible. The remorse even worse.

But what really made it hard to breathe was the fact that I knew, faced with the same situation again, I would not change a thing. And in the end, I told myself, it didn't really matter that I wasn't washing them in my Light. That I wasn't using the Prophesy powers as they had been intended. The Prophesy only occurred when the balance of good and evil was tipped. When Dark threatened to consume our world. It was designed to halt Dark's progress, to balance that inequity out.

Right now, Dark was winning. I would have liked to have exchanged it for my Light, but there simply wasn't time. And I simply wasn't strong enough. And really, would my Goddess hold that against me? I think not. Dark was about to drastically tip those scales. Light was about to take a hit that it may not recover from.

And I knew, I wasn't destroying
all
of the Dark, because where there is Light there will always be Dark. I was just doing what the Prophesy was here to do. Just not in the way it had been set out.

If Nut knew me at all by now, she'd know I don't follow all the rules.

So, I settled my heart, cleared my mind and banished the guilt. And watched as Dark vampire after Dark vampire got caught in the
Prohibitum Bibere's
trap. Tears still coursed down my cheeks and the odd hitched sob escaped my lips. I could accept what was happening, but it didn't mean I liked it. Sometimes you had to do things you hated, to do what you knew was right.

Maybe that was politics. Maybe that was what Michel had been trying to teach me for so long now. Good could come out of this new order Michel had envisaged, but to get there, we had to undertake... harsh actions such as this.

The numbers dwindled, as my
Prohibitum Bibere
call kept luring them in. Michel's army of vampires and Nosferatins culled them with swift strikes and well placed stakes in their chests. Their final deaths were dealt quickly. There were no tortured moments as they followed that alluring call toward me. Michel showed mercy, where they would have shown none.

And while Michel and his Councillors, along with Yves' Nosferatins, battled below us, Sebastian's dragons decimated the ghouls. There was nothing we could do to stop them advancing. It was Avery or perhaps Viktor, who controlled them. Even if we killed every opposition vampire in the city tonight, the ghouls would continue to attack us until their
Master
broke the influence over their minds.

It was heart wrenching to witness. I felt Michel's disgust at Avery and disappointment at his own kind for ever considering this type of influence justifiable. I was certain the new
Iunctio
would not condone it. And maybe, just maybe, the ghouls would be able to take a more honoured place at the Nosferatu's side. Just like us. The Nosferatins, finally being recognised by those who once were kin.

As the sounds of battle dwindled and the roar of the dragon's fire went out, what was left on the street below us was almost pitiful. Somehow Michel had spared the Councillors on Avery's side. The Diviner looked shell shocked, his frock coat in tatters, the ornate brooch he usually wore on the lapel, long lost. His hair flew around his his head as though lifted up on a breeze, but the early morning air was dead still. His eyes were wide and frightened, he was a shadow of the man he once was.

The Imposter was gravely injured, his
Sanguis Vitam
depleted to such a degree he was unable to heal his wounds. Dark, thick blood oozed out of a gash high on his thigh, and even though I knew he could not meet the final death by such an injury, it was the first time I had looked upon a vampire and seen the undead. His fangs were down, with his desperate need to feed, and his eyes were entirely blood red.

The Nemesis, in contrast, looked completely at ease. His skin was the shade of pink rose petals, smooth and unblemished and chocked full of Nosferatin blood. He smirked at those hunters who stood on the side lines, panting, exhausted as much as me, but for very different reasons. They'd fought hard physically. I'd fought hard mentally and was under the weather due to some spell or charm.

Michel stepped forward, looking every inch the master vampire I love. I felt a pull on our Bond, it wasn't unfamiliar, even though he rarely did it, but suddenly he was awash in Light. The Diviner and Imposter paled, hunching in on themselves and looking anywhere but at that blinding white Light. It was what Michel had been intending, sending a message home, even as he spared them their lives. Dark would no longer be tolerated, from this day forward the
Iunctio
would be all Light.

But as much as those of us standing with Michel believed that, our battle wasn't completely won. We'd decimated Avery's Renegade Army, but their leader was nowhere to be seen. Still at the
Château?
Or running away to hide and regroup? Neither option was acceptable. We would have to meet him soon.

But for now, Michel had to deal with this.

Gregor walked to stand at Michel's back, accompanied by the Ambrosia, the Foreteller and the Creator. With Amisi and Samson's surreptitious aid, I too joined their ranks. We were going for strength in numbers, making a show of how well we'd fared over them. I didn't think I was a prime example of this, so I stayed at the back of the group, out of sight.

The Diviner and Imposter looked beaten, but the Nemesis continued to sneer.

"Where is the Keeper?" Michel demanded.

"Who cares?" the Nemesis shot back. "He was too weak to fight you and lacked the balls to do what needed to be done." Is it any wonder I despise this vampire?

Michel called on the
Iunctio's
joined Nosferatu and Nosferatin power, but because he was still using the Bond to appear wreathed in my Light, he also pulled on that. The Bond would never intentionally harm us; it's designed to be able to call on our joined kindred's power when we need it and still not compromise the one giving up the power through the Bond. But I was already compromised, so I felt the drain acutely as Michel blasted his power boosted
Sanguis Vitam
at the Nemesis' chest.

If I wasn't so dizzy from the drain it caused I would have laughed at the image of the Nemesis writhing in pain from Michel's
Iunctio
boosted metaphysical slap. Mixed with the moan of delight at my Light enhanced bliss. The poor man didn't know whether he was coming or going, but he did look ridiculous enjoying the singe to his chest.

But it wasn't the Nemesis who answered. The Diviner piped up, his voice reedy thin and high pitched with fear. "He has been captured by the London ghouls. They await the Interrogator's instruction."

Michel turned slowly towards the Diviner, who scuttled back like a crab until his butt hit the kerb on the opposite side of the street. Michel simply prowled after him.

"What instructions are those? And choose your answer wisely, Councillor, for it could mean your life or death."

"The Interrogator intends to bring him over to our side," the Diviner said quickly, wetting his lips before he went on. "Using the ghouls' peculiar methods of persuasion to achieve it," he admitted further, receiving a hiss of derision from the Nemesis off to the side. The Diviner jumped, the Imposter whimpered as Michel growled. And Gregor, the Enforcer, simply wrapped a hand around the Nemesis' throat.

"Careful, Nemesis. One word from the Champion and my
guillotine's
blade will fall." I don't think anyone doubted him. The Enforcer was lethal, despite being near full of Light. He would not blink an eye at ending the Nemesis' life and I think he had true reason to want it. I certainly did.

Michel watched on with an impassive face, then turned his attention back to the Diviner without issuing the command half of us secretly wanted, but would never admit aloud. Especially that half of us who were meant to be all Light and not think of things like that.

"The Keeper has not joined Rousseau's forces?" he asked.

The Diviner shook his head. "He was always your man, Champion," he said quietly, ducking his head either out of fear or shame.

It was certainly a relief to hear the Keeper was on our side, but the relief was short lived knowing he was at the London ghouls' mercy. I'd met the leader of the London ghouls, he could not be called merciful. And at any moment Avery could give the command, and the Keeper would be lost to us. It was a precarious position and everyone held their breath.

"Sebastian," Michel said softly, not taking his eyes off the Diviner's bent head. "How many of your
teaghlach
are available for a rescue mission in London right now?"

"Our deal has been met, Champion," Sebastian said in a firm, deep voice, surprising more than just me with those words. "I have carried out my side of the bargain, are you prepared to walk away from your end by altering the game now?"

Michel turned around fully to face the dragon-shifter, his face betrayed none of the outrage I could feel through our connection. Michel was an extremely honourable man, his word, like most vampires, was his bond.

"Your brother has already been released into the care of your Second," Michel said, making me suck in air at the implication that Sebastian's family had been held over his head. "The former Champion had hidden him from all of us, but my spy-master located the prison in Siberia last night."

"I have not heard from Leonard," Sebastian said uneasily. "He would have advised if Bryce was in his care."

Michel smiled then, an amused smile. "Do you think I would have allowed him to contact you before your side of the bargain was met?"

Sebastian flamed red in the cheeks, but just then his cellphone began to shrilly ring. He fumbled with it in his pocket then brought the device to his ear. We didn't need to hear what was being said, to know it was Sebastian's Second advising his
Ceannard
that the brother had been found and released into his care. We watched as the imposing figure of the leader of the dragon-shifters fell to his knees on the footpath, tears beginning to stream down his face.

"It's over," he whispered. "It's really over. The vampires have nothing to hold us with now."

Michel walked the few feet towards where Sebastian knelt in the dirt and dust.

"No, Sebastian Cole,
Ceannard
of the
Nathair-Sgiathach
,
descendant of Saint George. You are beholden to us no longer," he said, crouching down in front of him. "And I offer you my hand now in friendship," - Michel's hand came out palm up - "to take at your free will."

I could tell Sebastian was battling with the offer. It may have been the former Champion who had imprisoned his brother and held his life over his head. But she was a vampire, and I could see his thought processes, as though visible cogs were turning in his head. A vampire is a vampire is a vampire.