I sat down on the lid of the toilet seat and placed my head between my knees, drawing in as deep a breath as I could and holding it for three seconds, then letting it all go. I tried this a couple of times, before the need to pant was gone. And then - because once I make my mind up, there's no holding me back - I did what I had to do.
I almost dropped the tester into the toilet bowl, distracted by the fact I had to pee on the thing for five seconds or more. But I managed to not get myself wet and after redressing and replacing the toilet lid I sat down and watched the first little pink line appear. OK, I could do this.
It was the longest two minutes of my life. And when the timer on my cellphone reached the intended mark, I forced my eyes towards the tester sitting innocuously on the bench and blinked several times to bring it into focus. There was no second pink line. I wasn't pregnant. I let a breath of air out in a rush, a small sob accompanying it.
And felt... relief. I was relieved. A little confused, a part of me wanted to cry, but the overriding emotion was one of relief. I really didn't want to have Lutin's child. I started laughing at that thought. I'd been so messed about what I wanted, so confused, but it all made complete sense now. If I couldn't have Michel's baby, then I didn't want one at all.
Sure, I still felt a little emptiness when I thought of not being able to conceive, but it was familiar. It was the same emptiness I had felt when I found out what being a Nosferatin would entail. It wasn't new, it hadn't been changed due to recent potential events. It just was. And I could live with that.
I quickly threw the tester and packaging in the bin, flushed the toilet and washed my hands and then bolted from the room. Nataliya caught my eyes as I came careening out the door, a brief flash of relief crossed her face, but I had already flown past before I saw it change. I tore down the hallway towards the parlour and came slamming through the door to the room.
I stood still breathing unevenly as the heads of all the vampires and Matthew shot up to see who was making such a racket and dramatic entrance into the room. Michel was on his cellphone, but one look at my face and he simply hung up. I was in his arms before my next breath, he'd stood upon my entrance and I managed to make him take a staggered step or two back, with the force of my embrace.
"I love you," I whispered, laying kisses along his jaw and up his cheek. "I love you so much."
The vampires and Matthew all discreetly left the room. Michel's amused but slightly shocked face looked down at me, his hands coming up to cup my cheeks, his thumbs automatically rubbing gently across each one. Magenta shone in his eyes, a response to my fervoured words and touch.
"Ma douce?" he asked.
"Don't talk," I said and he laughed. I sent images and words and anything I could mentally convey towards him, including the result of the pregnancy test and what it meant for me. It was easier to do it this way, I could convey so much in one simple mental conversation. Instantaneous almost. Whereas words spoken just take too long.
Emotions flooded his face in response. I saw relief and happiness at my own reaction, but underneath was a small amount of regret. Had he wanted me to have a baby that much? I pushed the thought aside, as lovely as it was to think Michel wanted to be a father at any cost, it was an impossibility and I wasn't going to dwell on it now.
I was the one who removed his clothes first. He let me, bemusement and lust flashing in his eyes in equal measure. It was me who led him to the rug in front of the raging fire and settled him down on the floor. My kisses were the first to cover his naked body, the first to draw a moan of content. It was my hands, my mouth, my body that worshipped his. And when I had him at my mercy, his face a rapturous mask of bliss, I was the one that slowly lowered myself onto him, letting him fill me up inside, stretch me deliciously wide, and pull a moan of equal ardent pleasure from my mouth.
I took it slowly to start with, but by now Michel had woken from his dazed response to my ardour. His hands roamed my body and his mouth wrapped around my nipple. One finger and thumb tweaking the free breast, bringing my nipple there to attention, much the same as his lips and tongue and teeth were doing to the other. I arched against him as his hips continued to roll beneath me and then without warning he rolled us over, so he loomed above, cocooning me with his broad shoulders and back, his elbows beside my head.
He kissed me deeply and passionately, his tongue sweeping inside my mouth and tangling with my own. We both groaned at the sensations that movement caused inside. His thrusts becoming more urgent, still controlled, still deliciously smooth, but faster now. Bringing us closer and closer to the peak we both desperately sought.
"Come for me, ma douce," he whispered in an ever so slightly strained voice. "Let me feel and hear your ecstasy. Let me see you."
I did, it was so easy. Michel and I were made for this. No matter what happened in our life, in our relationship, this was what we were. Making love, making each other happy, bringing joy through our bodies. Reconnecting us. I called out his name and he gasped, then hesitated, drawing out my exquisite pleasure further and finally allowing himself to find release.
"Lucinda!" It was a prayer, reverent and filled with such love.
I lay wrapped up in his arms, a blanket from the nearby sofa draped around us, the crackle of the fire by our sides, and I couldn't think of a thing that was wrong in my life.
"You are my world, ma douce," Michel whispered into my hair, inhaling softly at the end of his words. "You are my life."
For the first time in what felt like forever, I didn't care that Michel couldn't or wouldn't tell me what happened on his missions. I was just grateful that he returned in one piece. Grateful that he was mine. I had my suspicions, that his inability to talk was not all him, and I had a plan formulating on what to do about that. But for now, I vowed to just enjoy moments like this.
He was mine and I was his. And no matter what, that would never change. And no matter what, I would spend the rest of my eternal life making sure he knew it.
Before I drifted off to contented and blissful sleep, wrapped up in his warm, strong arms, I heard him chuckle. And I thought, that just maybe, that was the sweetest sound I had ever heard.
Chapter 12
Interrogation
I awoke feeling tired. The shutters were down and we were in our bed on the uppermost floor of the house. I lay listening to Michel's soft breaths as he slumbered peacefully at my side and determined just what was making me feel exhausted. It could easily have been the events of the past few days. Or making love in the front room downstairs and then again when Michel carried me up here. Or the weight of an accord with an attention demanding vampire. Or even just being in London. But it wasn't any of those things.
It was my joining. I needed to Dream Walk to Avery and I needed to do it now. I reached over and picked up my cellphone, quickly punching in a message and hitting send. Avery and I had come to an agreement, I would text when I was about to arrive, giving him ten minutes or so to prepare, and he would behave himself accordingly. Every three days or so this would occur. We both had lives of our own, but this requirement was non-negotiable. He would be suffering now, which made me wonder why he hadn't got in touch.
Avery was not one to shy away from confrontation. If he was feeling as poorly as me, then he would be the first to phone to demand my attendance. Usually I'd Dream Walk to him before our separation had gone on this far. The longer we are apart, the more compromised we become. Avery Rousseau is not a vampire who welcomes compromises. He is demanding and forthright, conniving and selfish. His only concern is himself.
So why had he not been in touch?
Maybe the joining was having less of an effect on him now, as my power trickled inexplicably away from his grasp. I was still feeling tired, so I assumed he was too, but maybe that wasn't the case at all. I'd have to tread carefully once I arrived, if I planned to uncover the truth. Avery did not give away information easily. I would have to pay dearly if he knew I was after answers of any sort. I wished, for the t
housandth time, that I had Michel’s diplomatic and political skills. He'd know how to wheedle information out of an unwilling subject.
"You are more of a politician than you are aware, ma douce," Michel said softly at my side.
"Are you eavesdropping on my thoughts, Michel?" I asked sweetly as I snuggled into his embrace.
"Such sweet thoughts," he murmured against the skin at the side of my neck. "In amongst the problematic ones, that is."
Michel referred to my joining with Avery as being problematic. I thought it was an understatement, but it seemed to work for him.
"I need to pretend it is not permanent, ma belle. I need to believe it is not the end."
He surprised me with those words. Not just because they wrenched at my heart, but because he had uttered them. Was this his attempt to communicate better?
"Yes," he said simply. "I am trying."
I laughed quietly. I could work with this.
"And just how do you plan to work with this?" he asked, nibbling on my ear.
I let a breath out at the sensations he was stirring deep down inside, but didn't answer his question. I'd welcome any communication he attempted, with open arms. But I was certain that any openness on his part now was still only a distraction. His missions and what transpired while he was away were the real issue. Something was making it impossible for him to tell me and I admitted that maybe a part of him also didn't want me to know at all.
Michel stilled in his pursuit of my body. "I do want you to know. Everything. I have..." he hesitated, pulled me closer to his side, his arms firmly wrapped around my body and not letting go. "I have been trying to protect you. I still want to, need to do that, but..." He let a breath of hot air out across my skin, it made me shiver delightfully. "Maybe, I can..." He seemed to be having trouble getting the words out. I was unsure if he was having trouble putting his emotions into words, or actually conceding to my wishes and letting me in. Or, he just was unable to. Every time he tried to divert my attention, I'd lose sight of my original belief. That something was stopping him communicating. And whatever it was made him attempt to distract me in any way possible. I needed help with this and I knew just who to ask, but right now I needed to do some distraction myself. If he knew what I had planned, he'd find a way to thwart it. Or whatever was controlling him would.
Nothing further came from his lips, so I rolled over in his embrace and faced him.
"We'll take it one day at a time. Just knowing you're thinking about talking to me, communicating with me, is enough for now." He nodded, swallowed visibly and then shutting his eyes he leaned his forehead against mine. He'd bought my distraction.
"I forget," he whispered so softly it was hard to hear, "how strong you are. How capable, how magnificent in battles you can be. Not just physical fights, but verbal sparring, intellectual debates. You are intelligent, skilful, confident and able in all things you pursue. My vampyre wishes to protect you, you are our vampyre mate, it is our role to keep you safe. But my head tells me you can handle more. Right now my head is in a fierce battle with my vampyre." I ached at his words, there was truth in amongst them, even if I fervently believed now that the problem was not due to his vampire-within. "I will try, ma douce, I promise you this. But I am not sure if I can guarantee the outcome you desire."
I reached up a hand and ran my fingers along his jaw, up over his cheek and into his hair, brushing it out of his face. I played with the shiny, long strands for a few seconds and then said, softly, "Thank you." And I meant it. Whatever was making him unable to tell me about his missions was also making him open up his heart.
His eyes opened and he raised an eyebrow at me. "Just that?" he asked. "I'm baring my soul and you just thank me?"
There was a lightness to his tone and a quirk of his lips that told me he was teasing. I smiled winningly back at him and licked my lips.
"I suppose," I said as his eyes darted down to my mouth and lingered there. "I could show you how thankful I am."
"Now we're talking," he replied in a low, sexy purr and closed the distance between us to meld his lips with mine.
Despite how tired I was, my body instantly responded. Kissing him back with equal demand. My hand in his hair gripping the strands tightly, the other cupped around his lightly stubbled cheek. I moaned as he deepened the kiss further, my leg wrapping around his thigh and pulling myself as close as I could get. He accommodated my desire, tightening his hold around my waist and pressing his arousal against me, then rolling over onto his back so I was on top. Straddling his legs and rubbing against his magnificent erection.
Just as things were about to heat up to a boiling point, my phone buzzed. A text. And I knew immediately who it would be from.
"He is impatient," Michel said between fervent kisses, his words a little breathless. But not as breathless as mine.
"He can wait."
"Ma douce," Michel chastised gently, pulling back from the moment and the embrace. "You are out of breath. Why didn't you tell me you were suffering from the joining?"
He hadn't said it accusingly, just a gentle prod to find out why. But it was enough for me to escape the lustful moment and wake up with a cold start. Crap.
I rolled away and let a frustrated breath out in a silent scream. Damn Avery Rousseau and this ridiculous joining. Damn the Champion for forcing this upon us without care. Not for the first time since this had happened, I wondered if Lutin could reverse this joining too. He'd done it once, he could do it again. It would mean meeting with him, facing the delusion that is Lutin's mind. But it could be worth the risk.
"Absolutely, not!" Michel exclaimed, getting up from the bed. "I forbid it!" he added for good measure. "You will not place yourself in danger to attempt an escape from this joining. We will just make do with what we have." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, staring down at me with unfathomable eyes. "Let's get dressed and then you can Dream Walk to Avery and we can put this behind us for another three days."
He stormed off into the bathroom, but left the door open at his back. Three days to forget about it. Why wasn't that enough?
It didn't take long to get washed and dressed, neither of us talking to the other. Once I returned to the bedroom and looked at the rumpled sheets on the bed, I paused, a lump forming in my throat. I understood Michel's fear, but I hated the invasion this joining had on our lives. Michel slowly walked past me, reached for the covers and quickly straightened the bed, then turned magenta shaded eyes to mine. The vampire-within was ready for our little sojourn down Dream Walking lane. Ready and eager to cause Avery some pain if he misbehaved. All I wanted was Michel's arms around me, but he'd already allowed his dragon a longer leash. Although his dragon-within loved me too - I am his vampire mate - his love was not as caring as Michel's. The tenderness I craved right now did not belong to him.
Michel let out a sigh, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "I am still here, you know, ma douce. I don't disappear when my vampyre is called to the fore." I smiled weakly at him and he held out his hand. "Come on, ma belle, I will hold you while you do this, d'accord?"
We lay down on the bed and he wrapped me in his arms, laying a kiss in my hair. I was fully armed, so could feel my stakes against my side, it wasn't as comfortable as it sounded, but that was a good thing. It reminded me of why we were here and just how dangerous Avery Rousseau could be. Not that he'd kill me, that would mean his death too, but Avery had a sadistic side to his nature. He would enjoy watching me suffer, that was for sure. It was always an unexpected experience when I Dream Walked to him, you just never knew how far he would go.
"I will keep an eye on you," Michel said softly, his nose still buried in my hair. "If there is an issue at all, my vampyre will pull you both out."
He meant his dragon-within would make an appearance, but to do so would mean both Avery and I would be pulled from the Dream Walk into his realm. A realm, that as far as I could tell, existed inside Michel's mind. Michel was a powerful vampire and he got that power from hi
s vampire-within, which always appeared as a dragon to me. So the dragon was a formidable accomplice on these Dream Walks. He had been able to pull me into his realm before, but Nut had given us a boost of sorts, at the time of my joining to Avery at the Palais. That boost had meant the dragon could do more than pull his vampire mate into Michel's mind, he could also pull anyone who was with me when I Dream Walked too.
I took a deep breath in and settled my nerves, concentrating on my heartbeat and allowing myself to sink into the black nothingness that takes me Dream Walking. It's so easy once I'm there to find Avery. Our joining is like a shining golden string between us, I simply reach out and grasp it, then tug. Then instantly I appear at his side. It doesn't matter where he is or what he is doing, I will simply appear. And as he wears a Fey amulet, the taufr, he can see me when I Dream Walk, when others can not.
The room coalesced around me, making me instantly cold. We weren't in Ibiza, was the first thought that crossed my mind. We were somewhere several degrees cooler than London as well. A howling wind reached my ears, as my eyes adjusted and I pulled my jacket tighter around me in an attempt to keep out the chill. I noticed flurries of snowflakes outside a darkened window to the side. It smelled a bit rank here too. I spun around to get my bearings, taking in the dank, dark, dripping walls, the straw on the concrete floor, the pile of rags in the corner, a bucket of something unsavoury off to the side. And a vampire stretched out on a rack.
He had multiple cuts and contusions, blood dripped from an open, unhealing wound above his eye. He was gaunt, filthy and fangless. Obvious gaps in his teeth where his fangs would normally descend. Blood dripped from the weeping wounds in his mouth. His dull black eyes lifted blindly in my direction and he snarled, nostrils flaring at the blood bag that had just arrived in the room. He couldn't see me, he couldn't smell me or sense me, but I was full of blood and his body knew I was there.
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