kindred 08.6 - blood enchanted

by Nicola Claire

  I didn't see him move, but in the next second he was in front of me, one hand banded around my left arm, directly above the rapidly changing colours of my mark. Most people think vampires are cool to touch, but it’s only those who have not fed recently. Alain had obviously dined last night, his hand felt as hot as a brand.

  In a more leisurely fashion, a movement I could actually track, his free hand came up to cup my jaw, tilting my face up to his. I had never been this close to him before. Occasionally he would touch my shoulder in passing, more so in the past few months as a precursor to our joining and the consequent need to physically touch in some way afterwards. But close proximity to this man was still so new.

  "Tell me," he whispered, Sanguis Vitam, his blood life power, filling the space between us.

  My lips parted, a breath of incredulous air escaped, and I felt the Light within me expand.

  "Don't," he curtly ordered, voice still a soft whisper, intimate in itself.

  "You're trying to command me," I pointed out, unable to see the colouring on my arm, but aware it would be alternating a rainbow of emotions right now; shock, anger, fear, outrage, defiance.

  "Just think," he murmured, the hot breath of his words caressing my lips. "When we join I won't have that ability."

  Joinings prevented glazing or Sanguis Vitam manipulation, but also protected the vampire from the talents of the Nosferatin as well. It made sense, why connect you irrevocably with a creature that could bring you harm? Oh, we could still physically hurt each other, but preternatural influences would be out.

  And on that train of thought, my stake came up and rested against his chest, above his heart. The silver already sizzling against his skin beneath the shirt he wore. His eyelids closed slowly, a low growl emitting from the back of his throat. When they snapped open, crimson edged the rim of his irises, and his fangs were fully grown.

  "You are just like your mother," he ground out.

  "Thank you," I replied with a fake smile.

  We stared at each other, neither moving, but the smell of burnt flesh was becoming too strong.

  "Remove the stake," he ordered, his fangs catching my attention every time his lips moved.

  "Pull back your Sanguis Vitam," I countered.

  "You first."

  "You started it."

  "And I'll finish it, if I have to." His face moved a centimetre closer, and then he snapped his jaw in a mimic of a wild animal nipping at its young. Alain always managed to remind me of my tender age.

  "You deserve a hole in your chest, Dupont," I said, but pocketed the stake. I was starting to feel sick from the stench.

  As soon as the silver disappeared, he healed. Oh, he must have fed well tonight.

  "I should turn you over my knee, Bébé," he whispered.

  That was it. For some reason Alain was in the mood for a fight. And I'd give him one.

  "Outside. You and me. Are you game, vampire?"

  "Are you challenging me, Éliane?"

  "Do you have the balls, if I am?"

  He blinked. The only show of a response at all.

  "Weapon?"

  "Sword." Always my preferred.

  His head shook. "No." I knew it wasn't because he was no match with a blade. Alain had featured in my lessons growing up as well. "Hand to hand. You need to get used to touching me."

  The way he said that sent unexpected shivers down my spine. I ignored them, as I hoped he was too.

  "Arena rules apply," I said, with a swish of my hair as I exited the room.

  I heard his low chuckle as he followed two paces behind. The only rule, other than banding of magic in a fight, was the last man standing won. Anything else goes.

  "The courtyard’s free and I've rolled the cover overhead for your sun challenged friend," Travis offered as we walked past his control room. I wasn't sure, but I thought perhaps Travis had microphones and cameras in every room of his home. He'd just witnessed the entire exchange between Alain and me, but it did save time. The courtyard I'd fought Ediz, and his hidden crossbowmen in, was now prepared for a vampire. Sunlight blocked, but Travis still within firing range should we need him.

  "How many in the wharves?" I asked, slipping my jacket on over my sword. Normally I fought in skin-tight, long sleeved tops to hide my Sigillum. It gave too much of my intentions away. As I was stupidly wearing a singlet, the jacket would have to do.

  "About thirty. You'll have an audience before too long."

  "Keep a tab on them for me," I asked.

  "Always, El," came his steady reply.

  I nodded my head in farewell, I'd either be out cold after this, or would need to see to Alain's safety. I wouldn't be returning after I kicked the undead jackass' butt, that was for sure. This fight had been a long time coming. Approximately five years, at least.

  From the moment my father announced Alain as my betrothed, his Second had taken more interest in me. Beforehand, I'd been merely a child, afterwards I was considered a child with prospects. Something to guard, to watch over, to annoy unendingly with observations and instructions on how I should be leading my life. I got enough of that from my father, I didn't need the sanctimonious secretive spy master to offer his two cents worth as well.

  Our boots echoed down the stairwell, announcing our approach to anyone who cared. Travis would keep them contained until we set up, and I was in no mood to go slowly. I wanted this done and done fast.

  We walked out into the centre of the courtyard, the strange glow of the sun could be seen, but not felt, through the overhead UV shield. Travis had the whole area wired. You wouldn't know it was one of the most technologically enhanced regions of Auckland to look at it. The only thought you'd have when entering the half-destroyed wharves was that a bomb had gone off and nobody cared.

  I stretched my muscles, rolled my shoulders, getting myself used to moving fully clothed without a sword. I'd done it many times before, but usually when dressed for a night of hunting I had my Svante in hand, or at least a stake. I'd have to check myself each time Alain landed a blow, and not pull a weapon and forfeit the fight.

  I watched as he slipped out of his shirt, revealing pale cream and unblemished skin, over taut muscles and well defined ridges. Vampires aren't all perfectly formed, but those with even a hint of Master status are usually a little god-like. Alain was an exquisite representation of a level one Master Vampire. The unusual glow of sunlight on his skin leant a surreal nature to the moment, as though he wasn't really a vampire and we weren't really about to grapple, skin to skin.

  The bastard had known what he was doing when he suggested this, hadn't he?

  I cracked my knuckles, fingers laced as I stretched my arms over my head. It was no use, the jacket would hinder me and the sword in its sheath would throw me off balance. I flicked a quick look around the edges of the courtyard, finally spotting exactly the right person for the job. This was going to be a display, a show, a chance for those I walked amongst to see more of me than they normally would. It wasn't necessarily a bad move, if I spun it just the right way.

  I strode over to a dirt smeared young boy of about thirteen. His clothes looked like rags, but on closer inspection you'd notice not a rip or tear that wasn't put there intentionally by the owner. Gavin was a con artist, the best I'd ever met in the wharves.

  "Hey," I said with a nod of my head.

  "Hey, Ellie. Watcha doing?"

  "Teaching this vamp a lesson. You up for a job?"

  He nodded his head enthusiastically, making his over-long dark fringe flop in his eyes. A grubby hand brushed it away and steel grey stared up at me.

  "Look after these. And if they aren't waiting for me afterwards, I'll skin you alive."

  I handed him my jacket first and then the Svante in its sheath. A murmur of hushed whispers swept around the courtyard, letting me know there were exactly twenty people watching this scene.

  Gavin's eyes bugged out at the precious horde I handed over. But ever the opportunist, he said, "What do I get for
a job well done?"

  I smiled, I'm not sure it was the sort of smile you should offer a young teenager.

  "I'll take you on a hunt," I offered.

  He contemplated that for a second, then came back with, "I get to stake one."

  It hadn't been unexpected, Gavin could drive a hard bargain, but my sword and jacket were worth more than enough for the payment.

  "You're on."

  He held the items close to his chest, flicking sharp eyes around the area. "Deal," he shot back, not needing to offer a hand to shake. Gavin and I had an arrangement, verbal contracts were our law.

  "Good," I replied, then spun on my heel and walked back to a patiently waiting and slightly amused Alain.

  "You ready, Bébé?" he murmured, eyebrows raised, no doubt knowing my hackles would be doing the same.

  "Always, Patron," I replied, using a French term I knew he disliked. Alain was not my boss, so when I said the nickname I'd given him at twenty, he knew its meaning was more along the lines of old man.

  His lips peeled back in a mock snarl, revealing his still visible fangs. A tiger waiting to pounce. As his eyes flicked over my face, my naked arm, and then strangely lingered on my chest, he let them lengthen. Vampire fangs elongate for various reasons; hunger, anger, and lust.

  He wasn't hungry, I'd already established he'd fed well tonight.

  He didn't look particularly angry, it took a lot to rile the steadfast and battle-worn spy.

  So that left only one explanation.

  It was the shock of the revelation that did it. I froze. Stunned, disbelieving, and unfortunately a little beguiled.

  As the solid concrete came up to meet my back, and a roar of disgruntlement sounded out from those betting on the sidelines, it was painfully obvious Alain had won this round.

  And I realised, much too belatedly, that he had played me. A self satisfied smirk gracing his lips as he waited for me to rise.

  OK, Old Man. Game on.

  Arena rules be damned. I was fighting for my life. Or at least my pride.

  4

  He’d Done It Again

  We circled each other. Two predators assessing their prey.

  This was going to be hard and fast, however at the last minute I was sure Alain would pull his punches. But I wasn’t going to give him a chance to play protector, though.

  I wanted a fight. I wanted it now. I couldn't fight Hakan Bahar until I had a better idea of what I was going up against, so Alain Dupont, someone I did know a good deal about, would have to suffice.

  Worry over Luc had been festering for too long now, it had morphed into an anger and rage that I welcomed. Feeling helpless was never an emotion I could embrace, so if I could channel that debilitating sensation into something more useful, I would.

  A snarl escaped my lips, more vampire than human. I may appear, for all intents and purposes, as a Nosferatin, but I am half Nosferatu somewhere in amongst my blood. My father's lineage mixes with my mother's inside me, making me an opponent one should never underestimate.

  Or try to protect. I am more than capable of defending myself.

  A satisfying crunch sounded out as my fist connected with Alain's cheek. I had spun away before he even had a chance to react.

  The look he gave me - part surprise, part appreciation, part pain - said it all. Your speed has increased, Bébé. It had, since I had matured, which for a Nosferatin is at the age of twenty-five. I came into more of my Nosferatin powers that night. I was already formidable, now I was a volatile cocktail of abilities I had yet to test.

  "Your father was right to summon you," Alain said, his cheek already puffing back out to normal proportions, healing at that supernatural speed a well fed vampire can have.

  At the time of our births on our twenty-fifth birthdays, Luc's and my Light, the part of us that is all Nosferatin, swelled, thrumming through our bodies, stealing all our breath, filling us up with such power and beauty that I fled those around me, and did my best to hide the results. I wouldn't be surprised if Luc did too, although I had not seen nor heard from him since to confirm.

  It wasn't that I was scared. There was an element of the unknown, but my mother had prepared me for the moment. What she had failed to say was how... intimate the sensations felt. Luc and I were celebrating our maturity with our family, we had not been alone. Those closest to my parents were in attendance. It had been private, but not nearly enough.

  I had felt stripped of all defences, openly on display. Those at the party had witnessed the Light expanding and blazing in a brightness that would have blinded humans. And it was because of that unusual and surreal display that I was able to slip out of the room we'd all been in and escape. I haven't been back to my father's hotel since, and I've been avoiding my home as well. Although, unlike Luc, I have been in touch with members of my father's entourage. I even met my mother on a hunt two days ago.

  But now my father would be wanting answers. Just what had I become? The joining wasn't set for two more weeks, by then Michel Durand would want to know exactly what powers I possessed. Part of that was because he wanted to protect me, keep me safe, make sure I was all right. But there is a part of my father that is completely vampire. The part of him that is the Champion of the Iunctio.

  He cannot help it. He is vampyre. I have grown up knowing this fact. He loves me, dearly. I believe he would lay down his life for me, if required. Even though a vampire's raison d’être is survive at all costs. There is much Light in my father too. He is washed in the Light of my mother.

  But he is still a vampire. Just like the vampire I was facing off against right now.

  "Papa will have to wait," I said softly, flexing my fingers and then raising a hand and beckoning Alain closer.

  He smiled. It was all cunning and wicked intent.

  Then he was on me and we were flashing, twisting in the air at such speeds the human eye could not track. Most of those present would have only seen a blur. Vampires perhaps could have made out the odd detail, Nosferatins would have discerned colour changes, but the shifters and Fey would have been as handicapped as the Norms.

  I felt concrete bite into my shoulder, then a fist in my hair pulling strands. Immediately followed by a solid punch to my stomach, and a wrench of my elbow in the wrong direction. Blood splattered, bones cracked, and still I knew Alain was holding back.

  I laughed as I spun us faster, feeling his movements become uncoordinated as vertigo took hold. Spinning is a Nosferatin's greatest tool. That and Light, but as Light is considered magic, and not allowed in an arena fight that is restricted to hand-to-hand, I couldn't - or shouldn't - call on it. For now, I was happy to use physical prowess.

  Alain's head connected with a wall, bricks and mortar dust fell down to the rubble strewn floor. His fingers on his left hand snapped. A snarl rent from his chest, even as they mended while we flew through the air. His knee slammed into a pile of debris, blood left a trail of droplets on the air as I pulled his weakening body away from the obstacle.

  He growled, fangs at full length, and lowered his face to my neck. He was quick, and despite my use of spinning, his aim was true; drawn to my large blood vessel by a magnetism that should not exist, it seemed unfair. But it was only instinct and could hardly be called "magic." My arm swept up to intervene his trajectory, his bite punctured skin above my Sigillum. His eyes on mine, as the world continued to swirl around us in a dizzying array of colours and shapes and blurs.

  Then as his saliva flowed down the long length of each fang and entered my bloodstream, peace stole all anger, effectively rendering me impotent.

  "Damn you," I said, as our spin slowed to a dance.

  He licked the wound closed, his eyes blazing cyan, eclipsing the darker blue of before.

  "Is it magic?" he asked, voice a little deeper and rougher than minutes ago.

  Debatable. The saliva of a vampire has healing properties as well as the ability to convey their emotions when they feed, making their victim experience a shadow of their a
ttacker's feelings at the time of the bite. The fact that Alain felt peace when he drank my blood was interesting, but not important right now.

  "Or is it considered a talent such as your spin fighting?" he added, his eyes darting down to the serene sunshine yellow of my Sigillum confirming my state of mind; at peace.

  "Spin fighting is learned, not inherent," I countered, a smattering of my earlier rage returning now the bite connection had been severed. A pale pink darkened as it threaded through the gold.

  "And I am vampyre," he whispered. "I bite when I fight." He snapped his jaw at my chin, like he had inside Travis' home.

  My hand came up to slap him, a reflex action and a pathetic response to have. It showed too much. It revealed my dislike of that movement. Gave him more power than he deserved.

  "Are we still fighting?" he asked, his fingers securing my wrist beside his cheek. "Or have I won?"

  "Landing fangs does not equate to victory in the arena."

  "Ah, but Éliane, landing fangs on you does."

  No one bites me. Not many have. This was the first time Alain had, and considering he was to be my joined kindred shortly, an oversight of my parents, for sure. Feeding from a kindred Nosferatin gives a vampire their greatest strength. Of course my father feeds from my mother daily, substituting those meals when apart with a Norm. Unless he is battling, he does not feed from another. Their joining is strong. The strongest I've seen.

  Alain's and mine would not be, I fear. I do not wish for him to feed from me. I do not want to touch him all the time. There is an attraction there, certainly. But it is the fact he is Nosferatu and a suitable kindred that creates that feeling, and nothing else.

  This is why I wanted to find my own kindred. Not have him delivered to me wrapped up in Sanguis Vitam and a bow.