Kiss of the Dragon (28 page)

And just like that, I had received six votes out of the possible eleven Councillors of the
Iunctio
. Enough to gain a seat.

Lucinda Monk: Farm girl from Cambridge,
Sanguis Vitam Cupitor, Prohibitum Bibere, Lux Lucis Tribuo
, Kindred to the Champion, Nosferatin, was now an
Iunctio Councillor.

The Prophesied. The twelfth Councillor of the
Revered
Iunctio
.

OK, so I had wanted this, but if I didn't get somewhere quiet soon I was definitely going to chuck. Oh Goddess, what had I agreed to? The Councillors in the room congratulated me, Gregor going so far as to give me a kiss on the cheek. In a whirlwind of activity I was sworn in, my blood spilled on an ancient piece of parchment the Ambrosia procured out of nowhere, sealing my fate. And binding me to the other eleven Councillors.

Should one die, I would feel it. Should one need to call on part of the combined power of the
Iunctio,
I would sense that pull. And should I require a power boost, I too could call on part of that Nosferatin and Nosferatu joining power, held by the
Iunctio
, and cared for by the Keeper. It was a little surreal and the sweat that had started trickling down my back throughout the vote was now covering my entire body. Head to toe I was awash with prickling goosebumps, a sheen of perspiration coating me. I struggled not to pant.

Michel sensed my distress. Hell, I was sure the others did too, but thankfully, all appeared allies and chose to ignore my dwindling self control. I relied on my Light to get me through, blanketing myself in its comforting glow. I would have been shining brighter than anything else in the room and I only hoped those present believed it was a show of power, not the crutch it actually was.

Finally, after formalities were completed, Michel recommended a break for dinner, before the next Council session began. Even if the vampires didn't eat food like I did, they did require blood. Luck proved mine, because none of those vampires present - save Michel - had fed yet tonight. The meeting broke and the Councillors with their guards flowed out of the room, leaving me alone with Michel and our own guards.

I was sitting again, with Marcus and Natalyia behind me at the couch. Michel's eyes - now vibrant Mediterranean Sea blue - swept over me and he visibly paled.

"How long has she been like this?" he asked Natalyia I think, but his eyes didn't leave me.

"Since we arrived in London she has been weaker," Nataliya replied.

"And you did not think it wise to inform me?" Michel asked, his voice not harsh, but it didn't need to be. The accusation was in the words, not the tone.

"We could not determine if it was simply weariness due to lack of sleep, or something else," she replied, voice strong in the face of the Champion’s building anger.

"And now?" he asked. "What do you determine?"

I was starting to get a little pissed off. Being spoken about as though I wasn't even there. But exhaustion made it difficult to act on the anger their conversation caused. A sudden realisation hit me. I
was
sick. There was definitely something wrong.

"I have no answer for you, Champion," Natalyia said. "But we have noticed more than just exhaustion."

"Such as?" Michel asked.

"The Mistress has been... emotional. Quick to weep." I did manage a glare at my vampire then. Tattletale.

Michel hadn't moved from his position before me, looming over me almost, his eyes fixed on my face. I felt a small blush creep up my cheeks, feeling inexcusably embarrassed at the weaknesses I had shown. It wasn't like me. I pride myself on my courage. I'd let myself - and by extension, him - down.

"Don't be ridiculous," Michel said softly. "You could
never
do that."

My head dipped, face towards the floor and with mortification I realised I was about to cry. Goddess damn it! What the hell was wrong with me? From feeling horny and all sexy-powerful earlier this evening, to now, feeling nothing more than a blubbering, useless mess.

And he'd just recommended me to be a Councillor. Some Councillor I was going to be.

Michel sighed and ran a hand through his hair, freeing it from the clip at his nape. I watched the strands of midnight dark fall softly around his face and wanted to nestle my nose in them, to smell
his scent and pretend the rest of the world didn't exist. I wanted to curl up in his lap and stay safe and secure within his arms. And I wanted to sleep for a week. And eat fried pineapple rings dipped in sugar. And lick sugar off his body, drizzle him in pineapple juice and lap it all up. Maybe place one of the pineapple rings on his...

Michel cleared his throat, bringing my attention back to the room at large and not the part of his anatomy I was currently zoning out staring at.

The blush blazed bright and clear. Michel smiled down at me, but there was worry behind the smile. He was rampant with it and I didn't blame him. No wonder his dragon-within had started behaving all crazy protective, we'd overlooked a serious issue, and he was trying to let us know. Why his dragon didn't just tell him outright, I'm not sure. But he'd seen I was sick and we hadn't. It was killing Michel that he hadn't picked up on it until now.

"Perhaps the fairy has done something to you," Michel suggested, coming to sit beside me on the couch. His warm hand slipped into mine, he brought my palm up to his lips to kiss, then settled both our hands, clasped together, in his lap.

"I can call him, I still have the gem," I said, reaching for the little yellow Fey talisman Aliath had given me, that would call the
Dökkálfa
King to me in times of need.

"Not yet,
ma douce
," Michel said, resting his free hand over mine in my pocket. "Confronting him will be a last resort. To ask the fairy would beholden us to him, and right now with his battles mounting in
Álfheimr
he could ask for more than we are capable of paying in return. Desperate men act desperately. My sources tell me the
Dökkálfa
King is becoming desperate."

I worried at my bottom lip. Aliath was a friend of sorts, despite recent imprisonment by him in his fairy palace. I didn't like hearing that the battle between his Fey Court and the
Ljósálfar
was going so poorly. Several concerning outcomes could eventuate if the
Dökkálfa
didn't win this war.

Just then Sergei entered the room with a tray of food. I smelled the fried pineapple ring before I saw it. My mouth began salivating immediately. By the time he placed the tray on my lap I was licking my lips. The sticky, sweet pineapple was between my teeth before the tray was even settled. I think I moaned around the mouthful, but I was lost to the delicious flavour. Pineapple juice dribbled down my chin, but the distraction didn't interrupt my pleasure. Michel watched with a look of bemusement on his face. The other vampires all pretended I wasn't making a pig of myself right then.

I poked around the plate to see what else my vampire had brought me. Hot dog; sausage dipped in batter on a long stick, coated in tomato sauce. I grew up in New Zealand eating these things and I couldn't think of a better choice of sustenance right then. I devoured the sausage and moved on to the fried chips.

Michel, for all his arguments about artery clogging fatty foods, had gone ahead and arranged for what I had asked. I smiled up at him, aware ketchup was probably framing my lips, but didn't care. He'd made me happy, I wanted him to know.

He shook his head at me, but the smile he returned was more relaxed, the worry of earlier dissipating slightly. I guess if I was eating so heartily, then I couldn't be that sick.

"I have no idea what is happening with you,
ma douce
. Even this delight in such food is not normal behaviour for you. Still, I am relieved you are eating at all."

I was too and by the time I finished the meal, I felt I could face the night. Sergei had disappeared again, but he came back in the room holding a cup. I knew instantly what was inside it.
Coffee
. Fluffy white milky espresso. My drink of choice. He handed the mug to me with a simple nod and then went and stood by the door. I wiped my face on a napkin and brought the drink up to my lips for the first taste. It had been days since I'd had a decent coffee. Goddess, I had missed it.

Michel, satisfied that I was indeed better, relaxed into the seat at my side.

"You are probably aware that Avery Rousseau heads the charge against the
Iunctio,
" Michel said, his arm snaking out to frame my shoulders at the back of the settee we were on. "He is still a Councillor, as are the Nemesis, Imposter and Diviner, who have all sided with him on this."

"What's his beef?" I asked, placing the mug of coffee on the table before us untouched. I must
have eaten too much fried food, because the coffee wasn't as appealing once it made it to my lips.

"Revenge, pure and simple," Michel stated. "His thwarted joining with you. His diminished position of power on the Council because of it."

"None of which make sound political sense. Why would the other Councillors side with him?"

"They too have grievances, but you are correct. They have not sided with him, because of his own personal vendettas. He has convinced them my appointment was made under duress. The Champion was dying and I happened to be the closest vampyre for her to pass the title to at the time. If she had not passed on the mantle of Champion to someone, there would have been a vacuum of power in the
Iunctio
which may have been enough to destroy it completely. Everyone knows the former Champion was consumed with the desire to 'survive at all costs'."

If there was one thing to say about the former Champion, it was that. Her one and only goal in life had been the Nosferatu race. Survive at all costs was definitely her mantra. I could see how Avery would have come to the conclusion that she was blinded by the need to save her race on her death bed, so to speak. But I had been there and the Champion was lucid and in control of all her faculties when she handed her power over to Michel. She'd even said, that he had always been her favourite. I had suspected she had been grooming him for such an event. Not for one second did I believe the Champion hadn't thought it through before she faced her final death.

"The Champion never did anything without consideration," I said. "To say she acted in the heat of the moment is a cop-out. Anyone who knew the Champion, knew she was always two steps ahead of the rest. Hell," I said, getting on a roll, "she probably had an inkling that her time was due. I wouldn't put it past her to have engineered the entire event."

"Even at the cost of her own life?" Michel asked.

"The Champion's only concern
was
survival of the Nosferatu race," I agreed. "But don't forget that Nut had orchestrated the Champion's need to come to my aid in the end. From the moment Nut placed that connection between us, the Champion would have known it meant her death."

Everyone was silent for a few moments, thinking that through. They all knew I was right. The former Champion could never have been called stupid. She saw things others did not.

"You became Champion fair and square, Michel. Avery is consumed with jealousy and striking out, but his defence of his actions is not sound. Should this ever be resolved off the battlefield, he would lose. I have absolutely no doubt."

"I am pleased that you support my appointment so readily, my dear. But avoiding the battlefield is no longer an option. Avery has chosen this course, and there will be no stopping it now."

"You've tried to negotiate with him?" I asked, knowing Michel was a consummate politician. But that did not mean he always sought the non-aggressive approach out.

"Conversations broke down when he tried to blow up my car."

I squeaked in alarm, jumping about a foot off the couch at his side. "You didn't tell me this? When did it happen? Where is that motherfucking vampire right now?"

I heard Marcus snort out a laugh behind us and watched as Michel slowly grinned from ear to ear at my side.

"Will you avenge me,
ma belle
? Will you hunt him down and skin him alive for his transgression? I do like this protective side to you, my dear. It is most becoming."

I frowned at him, but couldn't deny that I felt extremely protective right then. And yes, skinning Avery Rousseau held a certain appeal. But not before I poisoned him with silver and burned him alive with my Light.

"Such viciousness," Michel purred next to me, nuzzling his nose into the side of my neck as his hand wrapped around my head and pulled me close. "My vampyre-within approves."

"When did it happen, Michel?" I repeated, already relaxing into his touch, arching my body to allow him better access. He took advantage of it, pulling me against his chest, wrapping both arms around me now and licking along the veins on the side of my neck. I shivered and made a small sound of delight.

"On my way to the airport to fly here to you," he said, his voice several octaves lower all of a sudden.

"So, when I was out after Dream Walking twice?" I concluded. Michel just nodded his head against me and without further warning, slid his fangs into my skin. "Ah, Michel," I murmured, vaguely aware that there were other vampires in the room - our vampires, but still - and this was extremely private.

I was in his lap in the next instant and making entirely inappropriate sounds as he rolled his hips against my backside and continued to drink my blood down with a possessive growl. The room disappeared. The vampires guarding us and witnessing this vanished. It was just me and Michel. The feel of his hard body against mine. The sensation of my blood leaving me and fuelling him. Oh, and the orgasm about to crash into me if he didn't stop.