"The adopted patron saint," she replied, glancing over towards me, but thankfully returning her attention to the road. "St. George was not English. He was a Roman soldier from the province of Syria Palaestina, but in the middle ages we adopted him as our patron saint. He was recognised as an accomplished warrior, it made sense to have a warrior represent England back then."
She braked hard for a red light, making my body rocket forward in my seat and the seatbelt groan under the G-Force of the movement. Her car was old, really old. I was surprised it was road worthy at all. But Marie's driving made the whole episode firmly in the area of life-on-the-line, as opposed to just dangerous. She tapped her finger against the steering wheel as she waited impatiently for the light to turn. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. It wasn't that much further to Michel's house.
"Anyway, the legend of Saint George and the Dragon took place in Silene, some time in the thirteenth century. The town had a pond, or lake, where the Dragon dwelt. It was feared he brought the plague and in order to appease the Dragon, the town's people sacrificed two sheep a day to him. And when the sheep failed, they fed their children, chosen by lottery." I cringed. Not exactly a pleasant bedtime story this one. Marie went on, unaffected by my grimace. "The King's daughter was called forth in the lottery and the King distraught at the thought of losing her, told the people they could have all of his gold and riches if they spared his daughter. They refused. The daughter was sent out to the lake and fed to the Dragon."
I was hoping there would be a happy ending to this story and for the life of me, I couldn't understand why Marie was going to such trouble to explain it to me. It was interesting, sure, and legends can have their origins rooted in history sometimes, but still. The light turned green and Marie hit the accelerator as though her life depended on it. The door handle became my best friend.
"St. George happened to be riding past the lake, when the Dragon became incensed at his interruption to his meal and reared back to attack. St. George charged on his horse and pierced the Dragon with his lance. He then used the princess's girdle to trap the Dragon and both he and the girl led the now docile dragon back to the town.
"The people were terrified, but St. George promised them, if they all converted to Christianity, he would slay the Dragon. Of course they did and the Dragon was slayed."
OK, kind of a happy ending, if you weren't the dragon. "What's this got to do with Sebastian?" I asked, still totally dumbfounded.
"The Dragon was his grandfather," Marie replied, pulling up outside Michel's house in South Kensington.
I turned in my seat and stared at the little, demure woman sitting next to me. Marie looked like any girl next door. Sweet and innocent, short brown, no-nonsense hair, hazel eyes and of medium height and slim build. Her uniform was always jeans, sweatshirt and tennis shoes. Comfort was her goal, not fashion. Even now, with just the two of us in her ratty old car, she still tried to hide, blend in to the surroundings. Her clothes were just as dishevelled as the car. Marie was recently joined to a wealthy master vampire, but determined not to take a penny. It was definitely something I admired about the angst ridden hunter. I hadn't met Kenneth yet, but he ran an antiques business, one which was quite successful from all accounts.
"Wow! Sebastian must be old." It was all I could think of to say.
Marie sighed. "He is. He's also very powerful and has never forgotten what St. George did. When St. George was chosen as the patron saint of England, Sebastian brought his Teaghlach, his pack, here. He chose Scotland and entrenched the family in Scottish life. They gave up all that was their past and embraced their new land. Arthur thinks Sebastian is biding his time to seek revenge."
"Revenge? On whom? St. George doesn't actually exist."
"To the English, he does and always will. Arthur thinks Sebastian will take his vengeance out on us."
"And how long has he been here? Don't you think he would have done this by now if it was his plan. He probably just wanted to make a new start in life, forget the pain of his past. You know, green pastures and all that," I offered.
Marie let a little huff of a laugh out. "Yeah, that's pretty much what I think too. He's not all bad, Sebastian that is. Arthur has made me the liaison to the local shifter Teaghlach. I have a lot to do with them. With him." She looked down at her hands in her lap, another small blush gracing her cheeks.
"He seems to like you," I said, smiling. She reddened further.
"He's a tease. He knows I'm not good with that kind of attention. He plays a game to make me imbalanced."
I sat silently for a moment and glanced out the window. I wanted to offer some sort of encouragement, bolster Marie up by telling her she could be anything she wanted, if she just believed. But my attention was taken by the fact that Michel's car was missing. It had been there when I left for the hunt, parked outside the tall, pale Victorian building. But now there was a conspicuous gap on the side of the road, the black Range Rover gone.
I felt my heart weigh down with the knowledge of what could call him away at such short notice. And the fact that it seemed that he hadn't even been able to send a thought out to let me know.
I turned back to Marie. "You wanna come in for a coffee?" I asked, it seemed like the right thing to do and Michel's absence, although painful, was not something new.
She smiled, the most beautiful smile. It transformed her mousy demeanour into something entirely different. No, I didn't for a moment think Sebastian was playing a game. Well, at least, not the sort of game Marie thought. The man would be blind not to see what lurked beneath the baggy clothes and hunched shoulders. I had been, but the more time I spent with Marie, the more I realised that her appearance was quite deceptive. Maybe we could use that to our advantage. Something to investigate further at our next training session.
"Thanks, Luce, but Kenneth needs me to help out at the store. It's the only time we can work together, in the middle of the night. He has big plans for the business. He gets so excited when he talks about them, it makes me laugh."
I smiled at her enthusiasm. Kenneth, although her kindred, was not her lover. Their relationship was one of platonic love. She teased him like the big brother he appeared to be. Their conversations over the phone humorous, light-hearted, fun. I was actually looking forward to meeting him. He sounded like quite a card.
"Well, have fun," I said, looking up at the front door to Michel's very foreboding London residence. "Catch you tomorrow then?"
She nodded and I exited the car. Waving her goodbye, I stood silently on the pavement in front of Michel's house. South Kensington is a nice neighbourhood. Lots of Victorian houses; big, elaborate and well maintained. But, then there's Michel's house. I glanced at the row of houses either side. They all looked the same from the outside, pale brick façades with a lovely white trim. Four stories above ground with a fifth below. Although Michel's has even more than that. The entranceways all match too, large white columns guarding the front path, faux colonnaded balconies above. It's all quite quaint. The only differences are the colours of the doors. Michel's is black. But I knew each interior of the neighbours' houses were not in the same category as Michel's. It's not as though Michel wants to live in a dark and dreary Gothic monstrosity. He's just not been that fond of London and never been here long enough to care.
Christopher, the vampire who looks after the place when Michel's not in residence, doesn't give two hoots about appearances. A house is a house to him. But both Michel and Christopher had been quietly suggesting I plan a renovation, lighten up the place and make it feel more like home. Unfortunately, nothing about London felt like home. I hated the cold weather. The too often mist and rain. I disliked my new hunting rules, teamwork - blah! I shuddered at the interior of Michel's house.
I hung my head and took a deep breath in, bracing for the oppressive décor within. I had to start making an effort to fit in, to accept. But it was hard. I missed Auckland. I missed Samson. I missed home.
I squared my shoulders and walked
up to the front door. At least Christopher would have the fireplace burning brightly. It was the one redeeming feature to the whole house and I was definitely making sure any potential renovation didn't get rid of that.
The smell of coffee and apple pie greeted me as I closed the door. Soft voices could be heard in the front room. None of them were Michel's. I threw my keys on the hall table and headed for the quiet conversation. The fire crackled in the background and the smell of coffee and pie was stronger here. And I could see why. It wasn't vampires talking, but humans. Michel's close human friends; Matthew and Kathleen.
"Hey!" I said, surprised to see them, a smile spreading across my face. Kathleen was up and wrapping me in an embrace as soon as she saw me. Matthew just smiled broadly and held up his coffee mug in way of greeting. "What are you guys doing here?"
"The Master has asked for our help," Kathleen said, as she let me go. She held me at arms' length and took in my hunting attire. The usual, short black mini skirt, black fitted tee and jacket, black tights and boots. I liked black, it kind of matched my current mood.
"Help?" I asked, dumbly. He hadn't mentioned he wanted their help. I thought they were still back in Taupo, looking after Michel's holiday home there. It's where I'd like to be. "He shouldn't have called you away from your home," I said stiffly, taking a seat on the couch.
Kathleen shot a look at Matthew, but I couldn't make out what it meant. Concern? When she returned her attention to me - sitting down next to me on the couch - her face was soft, full of compassion. "Taupo is no longer our home, Lucinda."
"What?" I exclaimed. How could he? How could he make them move from that idyllic spot? Sometimes his thoughtlessness astounded me. Kathleen and Matthew had looked after that home for over twenty years. It was his haven, his retreat when the world got too Dark. Light and airy, with a view to die for, it was heaven on earth. I loved it and I knew the older couple did too.
Kathleen ignored my outburst and poured a fresh mug of coffee, adding milk from a jug off the tray, a spoonful of sugar and then stirring it all, slowly, patiently, as though she was letting my exclamation sink in - or fade away. Finally she handed me the cup and turned to slice a piece of apple pie, adding some whipped cream on the side and handing me the bowl. "Eat, child," she said simply and then started sipping on her own coffee quietly.
I glared at her for a moment, how could she be so calm? She and her husband had just been turfed out of their home and ordered here. To London. Nothing like lakeside Taupo. How could she be OK with this? And then it hit me. Kathleen and Matthew were Michel's human servants. They called him Master, they followed his every word like an acolyte. They would do whatever he demanded without a second thought. It astounded me that humans could be so involved in a vampire's world. But vampires relied on human servants, trusted and discreet. I had often wondered what Michel did to ensure Kathleen and Matthew's service. Had he glazed them? Used some form of magic to keep them in line? Made them sign a non-disclosure contract? They showed no signs of being glazed and as for magic, I couldn't really tell. But it didn't seem Michel's style. Still, it had puzzled me in the past.
When nobody said anything, my hunger got the better of me and I took a bite of pie. It melted on my lips, still slightly warm from the oven, cinnamon zinging off my taste buds, the cream making it slide a decadent path down my throat.
"Did you make this?" I asked, through a second mouthful. "It's awesome!"
Kathleen laughed. "No, we have only just arrived. This is Christopher’s masterpiece." Man, that vampire never did cease to amaze. Why had Michel chosen to hide him here?
Then something occurred to me. "Did Christopher know you were arriving?"
Kathleen met my eyes, she'd no doubt picked up on the tone of my voice. Was I the only one not to know they were homeless? "Yes, he was expecting us." She sighed loudly when she saw the reaction on my face. "Lucinda," she chastised in her soft Kent accent. "Michel has asked us here to find you a holiday home nearby. It was supposed to be a surprise, but considering your response this evening, I am risking the Master's wrath to put you straight, young lady. We will not be homeless for long, we will be setting up a holiday home for you and the Master when needed. He wanted you to have a place to run to, should London become too much."
Oh holy hell. Had I got it all wrong. I swallowed the now lump of apple pie in my mouth painfully and hastily took a sip of coffee to wash it down. My cheeks felt hot under Kathleen's piercing gaze. She was not letting me off lightly on this one.
How could I have doubted Michel? He was not the Dark vampire I had once met. Not that he had been all Dark, but much of that Dark that had existed is gone. Replaced with my Light. Replaced with a love for me. I felt the edges of my lips creep up in a smile. Michel may have been at the beck and call of the Champion lately, always rushing off on some assignment at the drop of a hat, but that didn't mean he didn't think of me. It didn't mean he'd stopped caring about my welfare, my safety, my sanity. London was getting too much and he had noticed. Oh God, I loved this man.
"Do you mind?" I asked in a small voice. "I mean moving to this side of the world and finding a new home."
Kathleen humphed. "Of course not, Matthew and I have long wanted to return to our place of birth and it is always so exciting, finding the Master a new home. He has set a challenge this time, though."
"He has?" I asked, now tucking back into the delicious pie, my appetite suddenly returned.
"Yes." She pursed her lips together and shot Matthew another look. He just shrugged and took a sip from his mug silently, Matthew was a man of little words. "Maybe you can help?"
I shot a look at her and raised my eyebrows, but didn't speak. My mouth was full of apple and cinnamon and the next spoon was already to my lips. Apple pie for dinner, Michel wouldn't approve, but I didn't mind. It really was good.
"Yes," she said nodding, having come to a decision. "Where would you like to holiday, Lucinda? Where would you like to unwind?"
Oh the places that flitted through my mind. Italy? Spain? The south of France? What about Monaco? Or Scandinavia, their landscape is similar to New Zealand's, despite the distance from home. I sighed, just like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, I was a long way from home. Kathleen's gnarled old hand came out and patted my knee.
"You can make a new home, Lucinda. Home is where the heart is. Is your heart not with Michel?"
I let a breath of air out and slowly placed the plate of apple pie crumbs on the coffee table, next to my now empty coffee mug. She was right. It didn't matter that London was foreign, that this house was dreary and dark. That Arthur Pencarrow was treating me like a junior hunter, just one of the team and nothing more. None of it mattered, as long Michel, my true kindred, was by my side. I smiled at her. Kathleen always seemed like a kind, knowledgeable, old granny to me. A kind, knowledgeable, old granny with a bite.
"How about something in Great Britain?" I suggested. If Kathleen and Matthew were keen to be back in this land, then a holiday home in sunny Spain was not something they would like. Besides, London was not all of what there was to see of England. "I hear the Cotswolds are nice?" I said with a small smile.
Kathleen beamed at me. "England then," she said. "Or maybe Scotland?" I briefly thought back to my meeting with the Nathair-Sgiathach, was Scotland a safe place to relax?
I shook my head at her. "I'd rather Wales or Ireland, or England itself."
"Oh, there are some lovely places in Ireland," she answered, and I could see her mind already hard on the task. Matthew just smiled indulgently at his wife, then when he caught me watching him, flashed me a wink.
I felt my spirits soaring by the time I left them to prepare for their beds. We'd finished off the rest of the pie, had another coffee each and talked about all the beautiful areas in Great Britain that could potentially provide a haven for Michel and I. Humming to myself, I traipsed the several flights of stairs to our bedroom, thinking I might read a little from one of the books Michel had left beside my bed. Finding
out a little more on what a dragon-shifter was capable of, sounded like a good idea.
As I entered the bedroom and began to undress for bed, my eye caught a folded piece of paper on my pillow. With an excited leap of my heart in my chest I threw myself across the large bed and grabbed the note with ill concealed glee. Michel's cursive handwriting stared up at me from the heavy cream card-stock.
Ma petite lumière,
I miss you already, please do not be sad that I have gone.
Duty calls and I must obey, but my heart I have left
for your safe keeping.
Please do not Dream Walk to Avery until I return.
Je t'aime, ma belle, je t'aime.
xx♥xx
Avery. That one name, that one word. And all the joy of the past evening, at the thought of finding Michel's love note, was gone.
Avery, the Plucking Pervert, and my joined kindred Nosferatu. As always, raining on my parade.
Chapter 3
The Vibe
Avery Rousseau was never really far from my mind. A depressing thought, adding weight to the many depressing thoughts of late. My one saving grace was that he didn't live in England. I wasn't going to run into him on the street, that was for sure. No, Avery preferred Ibiza, with its party atmosphere and white sand beaches. He wasn't so enamoured with the sun, but the night-life, yeah, he enjoyed that whenever he could. Not that he was always to be found squashed between the myriad of party goers that flocked to the island year round. But many occasions, when I had been forced to Dream Walk to him as the separation began to take its toll, I would find him in some lushly furnished, seductively lit, crowded bar. Enjoying what the entertainment provided.
Entwined With the Dark Page 3
