I wasn't so sure.
I did know that with Vive La Vodka pulled from the shelves - the tape ensuring it needed further testing if not complete destruction - the remainder of the research group was safe. That at least added to the good news. Two things accomplished, even if a part of me believed my Sire had walked free.
He would return and I'd kill him. Or he would not. Besides, I only had just under three months to sort my affairs and then leave. Aliath's contract with me would expire then. I hoped, probably futilely, that there would be no need for him to use my Hundr skills during that time. But again, it was out of my hands.
Something would happen that would make him deem my assistance required. If it did, I promised myself I would make my annoyance known to whoever had caused the situation in the first place. For him to use my talents someone would need that help. And that someone would see my anger. It was stupid, but it helped me accept the inevitable, knowing I'd make sure the reason behind my assisting the Grey Lord again would suffer my black mood.
So, three months until I had to leave. Three months in which to avoid Jett and Samson. My Dark Shadow was not impressed with my intentions to hide from both vampires in my life. She considered it cowardice and I could hardly blame her. But, I'd been over and over it in my head. Jett was under a fairy influence which made him want something he would normally not and Samson was in love with a woman who no longer existed.
I am Nothus. It is what I am. For the first time since becoming this thing, I have accepted that fact. I may not enjoy feeding still, but I understand the requirement. I will no longer delay them, but that doesn't mean I have to enjoy them.
And my talents. Jett, Samson and even Xavier, said I wasn't using them to their fullest yet. I don't know how to improve on that, I guess it will just take time. Time and a little help from my Dark Shadow.
She seemed happier, if not a little frustrated that I refuse to pick either Samson or Jett to mate with, but it's as though I have settled into my new skin and in the process she has settled beneath it too.
I can work with this I think.
So, a busy few days and busier three months ahead avoiding everyone who pulls some sort of emotional reaction from me. That includes Lucinda, who at this very moment is celebrating at Sensations before she and Michel leave forever to live in London.
I was invited, I didn't RSVP. Instead I threw my own party to welcome home Stu. His parents and siblings, Kara and her parents, and anyone else who wanted to celebrate his release was invited. My little apartment was packed. It was fantastic. Even surrounded by so many heartbeats I felt free.
These were the people who meant something to me and I had actually made a difference in their lives. I was standing in my kitchen looking at all my loved ones and sucking back on a Vanilla Vodka - no way was I giving up on my favourite drink just because SubZero had experienced a dud - when Kara sidled up to my side.
"Hey, Gigs!" she greeted with enthusiasm, her own Vanilla Vodka in her hand. She'd asked if I'd had any Vive La Vodka on offer, I'd had to let her down gently, a sure sign that the withdrawals she was about to suffer from would not be nice.
"Hey, you," I replied softly, wrapping an arm about her shoulder.
She leaned in and watched the drunken mayhem unfold before us for a moment, then asked, "Didn't you invite Samson?"
I pulled back and stared at her. Was she mad?
"It's just, he helped out too and Stu would like to thank him," she quickly added at the obvious disapproval on my face.
"He doesn't require any thanks," I muttered and took another sip of my drink.
"He hauled you over the side of that balcony, stopped you falling to your death," she offered, as if I would have died from that fall and that fact would make me willingly invite him into my home. "He helped out at the prison and at that house at Grey Lynn. Not to mention when you searched Alison Danvers home. He rescued you from your... Sire. And he hacked the police computers to get the addresses of all those left alive in the research group," she hurriedly went on after mentioning Xavier.
I stared at her for a second. "Is this the official Samson Beauregard fan club, or just one you've created for yourself?"
She frowned at me. "You could do a lot worse, you know."
"No I couldn't," I argued. There was nothing worse than what I felt for Samson and knowing I was no longer who he had fallen in love with anymore.
"OK, what about Jett?" she asked all bright eyes.
"We're not going to talk about Jett," I said dismissively. There was just too much in favour of not getting involved with the Master of the City. Including the fact that I hadn't worked out why he continued to sell Vive La Vodka when he knew what it did to the Norms. He'd even cornered the market, Sensations being the only club in town there, for a while, who had any stock. He'd practically purchased the entire production line of SubZero's and Xavier's wicked drink.
"You know he only sold that stuff because he wanted to keep an eye on it," Kara surprised me by saying.
"Do you read minds now?" I demanded, she just smiled back with a wide grin.
"I know you, Gigs. I know how your mind works." We'd been friends a long time, this was true. "He said he was investigating it, you told me that. Once he knew how bad it was he wanted to keep those Norms addicted close at hand. He was doing a good thing, I'm sure."
Kara always saw the good in people, even when they were powerful, blood sucking vampires in charge of all supernaturals in Auckland City.
"You don't know a thing," I whispered and was amazed she'd heard every word.
She spun to face me, her hands firmly placed on each hip. Oh no, the Kara Middleton sass.
"I know a lot," she said with a stomp of her foot. I placed my mixer down on the counter slowly and lifted both hands in a gesture of peace. "I know you think what you have become is a burden, that it's somehow evil and therefore you are too."
"Kara," I warned, but she soldiered on.
"I know you believe there is no good out of what happened, that you should have remained dead."
"Now hang on a minute," I interrupted, but she was in full swing now, luckily the party was too and no one else was paying attention to our little tête-à-tête.
"I know it's hard and I know you hate it and fight what it is that you now are." Oh, she had that part right, so I remained tight lipped. "But look what you accomplished."
She swung her hand in the general direction of Stu, but encompassed the entire filled-to-the-brim apartment in one foul swoop.
"Georgia Louise Deverell." Full name, crunch time. "You saved lives." Her voice had softened. "You got Stu out of prison." Her eyes filled with tears, mine began to threaten to do the same. "I know it sucks." A small giggle at her own pun. "But it is a true blessing."
I'd told Kara once what Lucinda had said. That what I had become was a mixed blessing. That I would come to see I could achieve so much with my new talents, with any vampire skills I had inherited. That I had lived not died, that alone was a blessing. That the needing blood to survive was harsh, that eternity held both good and bad possibilities - she'd know, she's immortal too. But that the bottom line was I could do more as a Nothus than I could ever have done as a human being.
I stared at the determined look on my best friend's face. A true friend, who hadn't baulked when I told her monsters really existed. That I had become one too. A friend who never failed to see the good in everything I had done in my life, including when I had died and been reborn as a Nothus. And who stood before me now and truly believed I had done good these past few days. And that it was because of what I had become.
A burden that is often full of Dark, but equally awash with Light.
Perhaps she was right. Perhaps it was a mixed blessing.
I gave her a bear hug and sent her on her way with happy thoughts, letting her see, for that moment, that I agreed.
Then I tamped down on those feelings, finished my Vanilla Vodka mixer, placed the empty bottle in the rubbish bin and th
en slipped out of my apartment door.
Mixed blessing or not, I had a Rogue vampire to hunt. Time was marching. Samson may have believed my Sire had met the final death, but I did not.
And my Dark Shadow agreed.
The wind, which had been battering the city since the night I fought my Sire, was still in full force when I stepped outside my building. I pulled the collar on my jacket up, providing a small amount of protection from Mother Nature's temper and took a deep breath in through my nose. The wind made deciphering scents difficult, combinations of emotions and signature scents scattered in the air, but my vampire side is not all I am within.
Part Nosferatu, part Nosferatin, that is my mixed blessing. Part Dark, part Light. And the part of me that is all vampire hunter, knew a vampire was near by, and that vampire was washed in Dark and about to strike.
I reached inside my jacket pocket, fingering my stake. Trying in vain to get a bearing on his scent, but failing miserably in the wash of warm night air that swirled around my face.
It didn't take long for him to show himself, Sanguis Vitam letting me know just how powerful he was. I didn't recognise his power signature, I had never seen him before in my life. But it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out this guy had clout.
Tall, dark haired, broad shoulders stretching an expensive suit jacket and a confident presence that was hard to miss. His full lips lifted up in a smirk, taking my attention away from the stunning silver-grey eyes - flashing platinum here and there - and the large scar trailing down from his right eyebrow, over his temple and cheek.
"Georgia Deverell," he said in a deeply masculine voice. I suddenly felt like a deer in headlights, admitting my name didn't seem like a good idea.
I held his gaze with an impassive one of my own, my Dark Shadow awake and aware and alert.
"Who are you?" I asked, purposely not answering his question first.
His smile turned predatory and when he spoke it was in an anticipatory purr. "I am the Enforcer for the Iunctio."
Oh fuck-a-duck! My life really does suck.
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Read on for the first chapter of book one in the Kindred Series: Kindred.
Night, Night, Sweetie
I knew things weren't quite going according to plan when his fist connected with my jaw. The pain sent a sharp stab up through my skull, making me grit my teeth, hear bells ringing in my head and my vision begin to blur. But, for the life of me, I could not understand why. Never one to dwell too long on the morose, I decided the best course of action was to come out guns blazing. As I don't actually own a gun, I settled on a taunt instead.
“Is that the best you've got?” I managed to squeeze out between my still clenched teeth. I shouldn't really be antagonising the nasty stinking creep in front of me, especially as I was still down on all fours spitting blood out of the side of my mouth, but I just can't help it. Call me a sucker for punishment, it's just how I work. Never let them see fear, that's my motto. So far, it's kind of worked.
Not so sure about that today though.
“Oh sweet Hunter, you think your witty repartee will distract me?”
Huh? Why do all the bad guys sound so freakishly prim and proper all of a sudden. Where's the good old, take that you bitch gone? I don't know about you, but I kind of like the simplicity of an evil bad guy dropping his h's and missing his t's. It just goes with the territory, ya know wot' I mean, luv?
And here comes the foot again, straight into my rib cage. I heard the crack this time, it sounded like a gun shot in the alley we were in. It reverberated around the brick walls on either side, or was that just inside my head? I couldn't tell, but breathing was suddenly a challenge. Oh God though, it hurt. And how did this upstart get the drop on me? I mean it all seemed so easy.
There he was, down the far end of the dark alley, against a dirty brick wall, like all good evil vampires should be, with his arm casually about the blonde's shoulders, looking into her eyes and mind fucking her, fangs down and glow on. It should have been a walk in the park, he was distracted, about to get his fill, no where to run, but somehow here I am on the ground struggling to inhale and there he is with a cocky grimace and the upper hand. What the?
“They told me you were stronger than this, more clever too. Hmm, I guess they were wrong, my sweet. You are nothing but a little girl, playing Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Where is the big bad Hunter I have heard so much about, hmm? Where indeed.”
Where indeed sweetie? That's just what I was thinking. Not trying to be egotistical or anything, but usually my hunts go a hell of a lot better than this. And usually I don't have to battle more than one blood thirsty vampire in a night. This, however, is the third numbskull vamp to cross my path trying to feed off the innocent. I'd have to ask Michel about this influx of careless vampires, eating in such a public way, disregarding all of his rules when entering his city.
That's if I could get out of this little encounter alive. So far, the jury was still out on that one.
I rolled onto my back, feeling the wet muck of the alley seeping in through my light chiffon blouse. The stars were out tonight, no clouds in the sky from the earlier downpour, almost a Full Moon, but not quite. Old evil face was slowly stalking closer, if you could call it stalking. It's always more of a glide with the older vamps and this one was about 150 years, judging by the power level oozing off him like thick syrup. I could almost reach out and touch it, so thick and sweetly smelling. With a hint of rot underneath.
I had to stall him, get back on my feet. He had disarmed me as soon as I had approached; a simple flick of his wrist, a magical brush against my fingers and the stake was gone. It was now down the far end of the alley, by the entrance, where all of a sudden not a single soul was walking by. Go figure. Not that I'd want a Norm to get involved in this, but I did kind of feel alone right now. Even just the sound of late night “clubbers” would have been welcome, but no such luck.
Still, I haven't honed my skills over the past two years without arming myself with more than one weapon. I shifted slightly to my right, casually slipping my left arm into my belt at the top of my skirt, all the while making full eye contact with fang-face.
“You seem awfully sure of yourself. What makes you think this isn't some kind of a trap?” I hedged, all the while watching him stalk ever closer; so slow, so predatory, so sure.
He glanced over his shoulder quickly at that though, I must have managed to ruffle his feathers, or cape. It was enough of a distraction to slip my little silver knife out of its sheath at my waist and hide it behind my wrist and arm.
“I don't think so, Hunter. You work alone. I know a lot about you, you could say, your name is on the most wanted list with my kind. An all-points bulletin. We even study your moves.”
Huh? It was just one of those nights for surprises I guess. I didn't know I was that popular amongst the otherworldly nasties, but there you go.
“It's always nice to be recognised for my efforts,” I replied, whilst lying perfectly still and taking small shallow breaths to ease the pain. It was just a constant ache now, no longer that sharp stabbing pain, as though a rib was about to pierce the side of my skin.
He noticed of course, they always do when you're injured. Something about the predator in them. They sense the weak, they sniff out the pain to use it against you. I'd have to time this just right. One shot and one shot only.
There's one thing you can count on when it comes to vamps though, they're arrogant sons of bitches. He may know all my moves, or thinks he does, but he wouldn't believe for a moment that I could succeed in usin
g them on him, could succeed in getting the drop on him, if you will. I'm betting he'd be wrong there. Pride before a fall and all that.
He leaned over me, fangs obvious in the glint of the moon streaking down the alley above us. There was a fat drop of blood hanging off the right one, threatening to spill on my shirt. He'd either bitten himself accidentally, or more likely, he did manage to get fang to neck on the now unconscious blonde in a pile over by the dumpster. Bastard!
“I'm going to enjoy teaching you a lesson, Hunter,” he whispered as he moved in for the strike.
“That's what they all say,” I countered as my arm arced gracefully across the front of him. I knew I couldn't get the heart from the angle I was at. That wasn't what I was aiming for, but that pretty face of his would certainly feel the silver as it sliced into his cheek.
A howl rent the night air. An excruciating sound of anger and guttural, visceral pain. He sprang back against the far wall, with his hand covering the slash from his left ear to mouth, already healing, despite the silver of the knife. It takes a lot to permanently damage a creature of the night.
I used the distraction and distance to get to my feet, not as ladylike as I would have liked, but hey, no one was watching. Well no one who mattered. Old sweetie pie hadn't taken his eyes off me for a second. They can be very focused when they need to be.
“You shall pay for that!” he spat. “I've been holding back, toying with you, but no longer, Hunter. The game is up.”
Indeed, it was. We began slowly circling each other, me with my, now somewhat pitiful slender silver knife, him with his fangs which only seemed to be getting bigger and longer the more I looked at them. Oh what big teeth you've got, I thought bizarrely. Losing it now was not an option. Luckily for me, since my first encounter with a vampire, my strength at resisting their spell-binding gaze had increased. To such a point that only the rare higher level master vamp had any effect on me. This guy, was only a level four on the Sanguis Vitam scale, strong, but not strong enough. So, I could look him in the eye when I said, “Right back at ya, Sweetie”. And then forced a grin.
Mixed Blessing (Mixed Blessing Mystery, Book 1) Page 40
