I danced through the dust motes that filtered in the dingy space we were in, causing swirls of foul stinking dirt and grime to waft up around my feet, which were currently several inches off the floor. The full moon was out, making it easier to see where I was going. Spin fighting is impressive, often catching your opponent off guard, but if you aren't careful, it could mean a busted ankle or twisted knee. Knowing exactly what I was landing on was essential. Even with the enhanced sight Nosferatins have, the moon tonight was a help.
I landed lightly, took an extra step to bring me in line with the rogue and raised my stake for the final strike. I was already thinking about what to have for dinner. The pull had interrupted my earlier plans of steak and kidney pie. A new favourite, especially when baked fresh by Michel's butler-come-valet Christopher. For a vamp, Christopher could really cook. But now, as several hours had passed, I was thinking fish and chips might have to do it, there was a take-away - or "chippy" as the locals called it - on the route back home. I hadn't tried it out yet, but they said the Cod and chips were bloody good.
All of a sudden, my stake arm met a solid wall of muscle and flesh, and the stake - which I admit had been loosely held in my hand - went flying. The clatter of silver metal on the concrete floor was astounding. I spun to confront the "wall" with my second stake out in my hand. No one was there. Returning my attention to the rogue, I discovered he was flashing, vampire fast, towards the stairwell that led back down to my partner's hidey hole. Fuck!
"Marie!" I yelled. "He's coming your way!"
I began to make chase, but again came up against a solid wall, my head rebounding off what was quite clearly someone's chest and my butt hitting the dirt of the floor with an almighty crack. Tail bone. Figures. I groaned and sucked in a breath to quell the nausea and scanned the area for the blasted "wall". Still nothing to be seen.
"Goddess dammit!" I muttered, rolling to my feet and cringing at the pain in my rear. I wouldn't be able to sit for a week. I could just imagine Michel getting me one of those blow-up rings to sit on. He'd have a field day with that one.
Dusting myself off I prepared to follow the Dark signature of the rogue. He hadn't gone far, which was either a good thing or a bad. Good, because I could still catch him. Bad, because he had found Marie. I'd taken three steps, picking up speed despite the sharp, shooting pain coming from my butt, when the "wall" made another appearance. Wham! This time I couldn't avoid the nausea, my near empty stomach contents trying to make a quick escape. I forced myself to my feet, staggered unattractively, but didn't go down, and held my stomach together.
I slowly turned in a full circle, but couldn't see a thing. I let myself sink into the black nothingness I use to seek out Dark signatures, but came up empty handed. Even the rogue was no longer registering on my radar. A horrid creepy feeling swept down my spine. Marie. I had left Marie alone, when I was meant to be working as a team.
It would just be my luck to have my protégée injured, or worse. I didn't allow myself to think that through, Marie was a born vampire hunter, a Nosferatin like me. Although she was inexperienced, she wouldn't be able to stop her natural fighting instincts from taking over. Even I had been able to kill rogues before I knew what I was, and Marie had been training, first with Arthur for several months, and now with me for the past four weeks. I had to have faith she could do what was required of her, despite her near statue-like inducing phobia of all things that go bump in the night.
I gripped my stake more firmly and continued to scan the room I was in. It was big, with large dirt covered windows along all four walls, the odd support pillar here and there that would provide cover. But little else to hide behind here. I took a deep breath in through my nose. I wasn't as good as a vampire at scenting, but I could certainly pick up obvious smells with ease. The only things registering here though, was the foul smelling dirt and dust and something rotten, that I thought might just be a dead rat.
I rolled my shoulders and waited for a sound to draw my attention. I could hear nothing from downstairs, which only made me more agitated the longer I stood still. No sounds were coming from the floor I was on either. The only noise I could pick up was the low level hum of London mid-week in the dead of the night.
"OK," I said, slowly. "You've got my attention, why don't you show yourself." I was certain the "wall" hadn't disappeared. Not when it was having so much fun slamming into me whenever I moved.
I waited for a sign, anything that would indicate life. Several moments ticked by and neither I, the "wall", nor Marie made a move. Finally my patience ran out. Gripping my stake firmly I started toward the stairwell at a slow pace. If the "wall" jumped out I would see it and be able to stop. At this speed a turtle could beat me to the bloody stairwell with ease.
After a dozen or so steps I started to relax. Not completely, I'm a hunter, we never lower our guard. But enough to pick up speed and feel marginally confident I was going to make it. The stairwell was in sight, the room still so very quiet and, apparently, empty other than me. I took one last look over my shoulder and knew the instant my eyes had left the space in front of me, I had made a mistake.
I stopped before I felt him. Before I had even sensed him. I just stopped. I turned my head back to the front slowly, my stake already half raised.
A tall, sandy haired, pale skinned man, stood before me. Although his complexion was on the paler side, he wore it well. The paleness of his skin seemed translucent, his short hair thick and a little unruly, almost bed-head messy. The small amount of stubble on his cheeks making him appear dangerous, but the casual attire and small smattering of wrinkles around his bright, sparkling blue eyes, a contrast making him seem intelligent, full of life, someone who has a lot of fun.
He smiled, flashing straight white teeth and shrugged his broad shoulders in way of greeting.
"Hello, lass," he said in what had to be a Scottish accent.
He was not a vampire. Not a ghoul or a fairy. He was a shape shifter, of that I was sure. But what type I had no idea. And not knowing left me very wary. Just what could this guy do?
"Who are you?" I asked, fingering my stake. Stakes probably wouldn’t leave much more than a scratch on a shifter of his physique, but the silver would hurt. I could have pocketed the stake and drawn my Svante sword, but I was going with substance over size. Shape shifters don't much like silver.
"Now, I thought that might be my question, lass. You are new around here. I think I'd like to know why."
I hadn't yet introduced myself to the Master Vampire of London City. An oversight to be sure. Michel had already made himself known, but I had found excuse after excuse not to meet the guy. Quite frankly, I'd had enough of Masters of the City. Michel used to be one and I was still a little bitter he no longer was. Still, the Master of London City might use a shape shifter to force my hand. I looked this guy up and down and wondered if he fitted the stereotype of a gopher. He didn't have that middle management look. Someone who followed orders. My guess: he was more of an Alpha and not related to the Master of London City at all.
Still, you never know what favours a master vampire might call upon. This shifter could be just paying back a debt.
"Do you belong to the Master of London?" I chose my words carefully. If he was an Alpha, belonging to anyone would be a big fat no-no.
His eyes flashed a beautiful electric blue and a strange, low sound came from the back of his throat. I couldn't identify it. It wasn't exactly a growl like I had heard Taniwhas back home in New Zealand make. But it gave me the impression he was angry with my question. So, Alpha then, not lackey. Good to know.
"I guess not," I said quietly, my eyes locked on his.
I knew I was smirking slightly, his response had amused me. It's not that I'm suicidal, I just have seen so much crap in my life, that another scary monster was nothing new. He was obviously fast and maybe capable of disappearing in thin air. I certainly hadn't seen him move before I banged into him earlier, and even when I had started looking for him, I st
ill didn't pick up a thing. But so far, he had not struck out. To delay attacking could only mean one thing. He was toying with me.
Well, two could play at that game.
I rolled my stake in my hand, letting the moon that filtered spasmodically through the dirty windows catch the silver and shine up into his eyes.
"Nice night out," I said conversationally, as he seemed to have decided to clam right up. "Full moon too."
He snarled, flashing those pearly whites.
"So, what are you?" I asked, as though speaking to myself. I leaned forward slightly and took a deep breath in through my nose. Moss, peat and the smells of a forest met my nose.
It would be easy to deduce this guy lived in amongst trees, spent a lot of time on the ground, but there was something about how he had moved earlier that made me think he was not a slow ground dwelling shifter when in his alternate form. Just what the hell was he?
"Shifter," I said, softly, still talking as though to myself. "Lives amongst trees, but not necessarily on the ground. Bird? Squirrel?" I couldn't hide the smile at that one. This guy was not going to be a small creature once he changed shape. "What's native to Scotland?" I asked, he just watched me with mild amusement.
I couldn't think of an answer. I hadn't done my homework yet. England, or the British Isles, were still new territory for me and although Michel had provided several books on supernaturals commonly found in Britain - our new home - I had been remarkably slack. I hadn't read one. I was feeling my lackadaisical approach at the moment was about to bite me in the arse.
It's just that things had been so hectic and emotionally draining recently, I just wanted to sit back and be thankful for what I had. Including Michel being with me again. And although he seemed to be travelling more than ever lately, I was still floating on cloud nine that he was alive and well. So, homework had not featured on my evening pursuits lately. Bugger.
I was at a disadvantage here, but at least the guy in front of me didn't know who I was either, despite probably knowing what I was.
Time for a different approach.
"Why did you help the rogue escape?" I asked, adopting a relaxed pose. See, I'm no threat, you better not be too.
"You were too cocky, I wanted to see if you could adapt to changing circumstances. Clearly not."
I bristled. I'd like to see him try to fight an invisible brick wall and make headway.
"So you just let him go off into the night to feed off more innocents?" I asked with derision. "Their deaths will be on your head. Can you live with that?"
He shrugged again, displaying a nice set of upper body muscles through the thin black T-shirt he wore. "Not my problem," he said, casually.
"What if I make it your problem?" I asked, getting a bit pissed off with his don't-care attitude.
"Is that a threat, Nosferatin? I would not make a good enemy, you should beware."
This guy was really beginning to get on my nerves, besides I was starting to get frantic about Marie. Where the hell was she? Why hadn't she come to find me yet? Was she OK? Stuff the rogue, I'd track him down with a concerted effort later. Sure a Norm may get caught in the crossfire, but it was not entirely my fault. OK, I may have been a little cocky about the whole hunt tonight, but I sure as hell didn't need tall, sandy and handsome rubbing it in.
I gathered my Light - let a little of it shine out around me in warning just to see what he would do - and then prepared to blast him with a little Lux Lucis Tribuo magic. Just as I released the ball of energy directly at his broad chest, he disappeared. The Light lit up the dirty factory floor, bounced around the windows making prisms of colours criss-cross all over the place and generally providing a decent light show, one worthy of a West End production. Of course, it wouldn't have done much to him, he's a shifter, not a vamp or Nosferatin. Or freakin' Light-filled fairy. Don't even get me started on those. He would only feel a sense of warmth, a mild erotic wash of lust and desire, but nothing he couldn't shrug off with ease. My Light is not designed for shape shifters. Unfortunately.
I spun on my heel and there he was, watching me, a huge smile across his face.
"Well, well, well, lass. You are special, aren't you?"
I didn't know how to answer that, his disappearing act was pretty special too. I hadn't come across a shifter who could do that with such ease. Rick, my once upon a time best friend, had managed to use magic to hide his escape once, but not this seamless disappearance act, that was for sure. The only creatures able to do that were fairies, as far as I knew. Although, Michel could move fast enough to look like he was gone. Maybe, that was what this guy was doing too.
Still, this was unusual and I was definitely not comfortable with remaining here, but how to back away without getting confrontational or looking like I was afraid? I stood stock still and waited for him to make a move. Sometimes doing nothing at all is the wisest course of action. Just as I thought we would stand there for eternity eye-balling each other warily, a noise in the stairwell caught my ears. A shuffle, a scuff and then the none-too-delicate footsteps of my Nosferatin hunting partner, Marie. Thank the goddess for her inability to walk in stealth mode. The sense of relief at hearing her approach almost made me turn towards her. But the hunter in me made me hold my place and then hold the gaze of the dangerous creature before my eyes.
She stomped into the room we were in and made it several feet before she noticed that I was standing so still. How many times have I told her to check her environment first? This girl would be the death of me, I was sure.
"Marie," I said in way of greeting, not taking my eyes off Sandy Disappearing Act. "We have a guest."
She walked the last few steps to stand at my side. She might be a scaredy-cat, but she was loyal. I'd give her that.
"Oh," she said, obviously picking up on the shifter at last. "Hello, Sebastian," she whispered and then blushed.
I glanced at her cheeks and then quickly back at Sebastian. His eyes had target locked on her small frame and a possessive hunger had taken up residence inside. Well, I'll be.
"You know him?" I asked the obvious.
She nodded and flamed even redder, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.
"Marie," Sebastian drawled in his Scottish accent. "A pleasure as always, leannan."
She reddened further, unbelievably. I waited for introductions, none came.
"So, Sebastian," I started. "Shifter Sebastian." Then to Marie. "What is he?"
She cleared her throat. "He's a Nathair-Sgiathach. A dragon shifter. He's the... ah... the Ceannard. Their leader here in London."
Definitely an Alpha then. And not just any old Alpha, but the top dog, or dragon, here in the city. Not only had I pissed off the Master Vampire of London City by not announcing myself sooner, but now I had made an indelible impression on the local shape shifter Alpha as well.
Could my assimilation into my new English home go any worse? I doubted it, I really did.
I offered a smile to the Nathair-Sgiathach and made a mental note to scour those books Michel had left beside our bed. What did I know about dragons? They could fly, breathe fire out of their noses, have scales and wicked long claws. But that was about it. Oh, and Michel's vampire-within, appeared as a dragon to me. I wondered if this shifter looked anything like the tall, omnipresent green scaled monster who accompanied me on my Dream Walks. Michel's dragon-within had always scared me, he was the power, the Sanguis Vitam, that made up Michel. For many months I wasn't sure what he thought of me, but recently he had claimed me as his vampire mate. The dragon and I had spent a lot of time together since then and surprisingly he had a sense of humour. I was beginning to wonder if that was a dragon thing, not just specific to Michel's dragon-within. Sebastian looked like he'd been having fun with me this evening, in any case.
"So, now you know who I am, lass, it is only fitting I know who you are, is it not?" Sebastian asked, with a look that said quite clearly that he had known all along that I'd have to answer the damn question eventually.
"This is Lucinda Monk, Sebastian. The Sanguis Vitam Cupitor."
Oh, bloody hell, Marie. Ever heard of too much information?
Sebastian's face stilled, he inhaled deeply for the first time. It was unusual he hadn't sniffed my scent before. Most shifters would have been scenting me as soon as they entered the building. Clearly this was his first attempt to single out my signature scent. What would he smell? Candied apples and sunshine, honey and Spring. Nothing too flash, just all me. He'd catalogue it, file it, remember it for future use. He'd recognise me if he crossed my path again, he'd be able to identify me simply by my scent. But that would be it.
I waited as his chest deflated and his stunning electric blue eyes met mine. There was recognition there, a wariness and - if I had to hazard a guess - respect. Huh.
"The vampyre-dragon's mate," he said in a strangely guttural voice. Raspy, low, a little bit scary to be honest. "Welcome to my dùthaich, little cousin."
Cousin? Oh no, this could not be a good thing, could it?
Somehow I was guessing probably not.
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Shadow's Light Page 44
