Kindred (Kindred, Book 1)

by Nicola Claire

  I was at the docks, somehow my mind was showing me what was happening down at the port and the battle had already begun. I felt my heart start to race and my throat go dry. I looked down at myself. I looked normal, in the clothes I was dressed in before, substantial and fully corporeal, but those fighting around me didn't even glance in my direction. They couldn't see me at all. I took a grateful breath in. Then shuddered as a vampire bit into the neck of a Taniwha to my side.

  The Taniwha yelped and blood started trickling down its body, its eyes started glazing over to a whitish hue and the whimpering that had started got fainter and fainter. The four inch claws frantically trying to get to the marauding vampire, but unable to find purchase at all. In less than sixty seconds the vampire had drained the Taniwha dry, before I had even taken a step towards it to try to intervene. He dropped the Taniwha with a disgusted thrust away from himself and wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his sleeve. When he lifted his face, I saw who it was. Maximilian.

  He was still at the docks and had been caught up in the melee. He streaked off toward the lights of the loading cranes in the distance, where more vampires, ghouls and Taniwhas were fighting.

  I hadn't taken a breath since the moment Max had appeared with the Taniwha in his grasp. I turned slowly toward where the Taniwha had landed, my heart in my throat. He had changed back into human form, so small and pale, curled in a ball. I took a unsteady step towards him, reaching out my hand, it was shaking I noticed distractedly, shaking like a leaf. I knelt down next to the pale body and went to touch him. I could feel him, my vision or dream or whatever the hell this was allowed me to feel, as well as hear and smell, all of which I wasn't sure I really truly wanted right now. The male body of the now human looking Taniwha was lying facing away from me so I gently pulled him over to get a closer look. His body flopped back against my legs like a rag doll. It was Rocky. Oh dear God, it was Rocky. Why hadn't I done anything to stop this? I can feel, surely I could have intervened, why hadn't I stopped this from happening?

  I was crying uncontrollably, tears freely falling down my cheeks, great racking gasps threatening to break me in half. I had to physically hold myself together with an arm across my stomach, for fear of my body disintegrating into that raw anguish I could feel so deep down inside. Not Rocky, not a kid.

  Finally I pulled my self together and wiped the tears away from my face. I was here, I was alive, I was sure as hell going to see how far this vision would let me take this. I grabbed my stake out from inside my jacket, took one last look at my fallen friend, kissed my hand and placed it against his cheek and stood, resolve steeling my features and hardening my heart.

  I ran as fast as I could towards the battle. No one saw me coming, no one heard my footfalls. The first vampire I encountered, I thrust my stake into his heart, feeling the reassuring and familiar sensation of it sliding home and finding its target, the sickening squelch as it tore through skin and muscle and then the rush of adrenaline as he burst into dust. Alri-ight! A vampire to the side turned suddenly, seeing his comrade in dust on the ground. He frantically looked around to see how it had occurred, unable to see or sense me at all. I could get used to this.

  I circled around him, I could feel the uncertainty rolling off him in waves. My stake found its target through his back a second later, turning him to dust before he could even cry out a warning to his friends. I coughed a little as the dust settled around me and then set off to find my next prey.

  Shifters and ghouls and vampires were in a mad thrashing of limbs and teeth and arms and growls. The night air was thick with the scent of blood, the sound of battle. Maximilian was off to the side fighting both a Taniwha and a ghoul. He was holding his own quite well, but the thought struck me, that this could be my chance. I circled around the rest of the battle, coming up behind him as he struck out at the Taniwha, sending it flying through the air to land with a loud thud against a nearby container. I heard the crack of bones breaking and stopped short in my steps towards Max. I couldn't take my eyes off the fallen figure which had changed back to human form, long black hair draping over the female's shoulders. It was Celeste. My heart did a terrible thud- thudda- thud kind of missed beat. I was frozen where I stood, unable to look away, then I noticed, ever so softly, the rise and fall of her chest, the pulse rapid, but still strong, at the base of her neck. She was alive, barely, but alive. I reluctantly returned my attention to Max.

  He was not there. Damn it. In the moment of distraction, whilst watching Celeste tumble against that container, I had missed him move. I frantically looked around to see where he had gone. Nothing. Nowhere. In fact most of the vamps had vanished into thin air, leaving only four behind and one of those belonged to Michel. In my rage at losing Max, I dispatched the three foreign vampires quickly, letting my anger and frustration and heartache at the sight of all those fallen take me from one to the next in under a minute.

  Michel's vampire looked alarmed, but was trying to hold himself together. I stepped up to his ear and whispered, “Relax. You're safe. I'm not after you. Well, not tonight anyway.” I have no idea if he heard me, because suddenly I was back in Michel's chamber and awake, all around me the sounds of battle seeping through the walls.

  It was horrifying. I could hear the guttural growl of vampires, feel the crackle of power though the wall, the sounds of furniture and solid walls breaking, timber snapping, concrete cascading and windows shattering. It was louder than I expected, so much louder, like the sound was being piped into the room through surround-sound speakers.

  I felt the weight of all that noise pushing against me and although I had leapt up from the bed, I stumbled only a few feet away and fell to the ground, covering my ears and curling into a ball to protect myself. I realised I was rocking back and forward, back and forward and keening in a small high pitched scream. I tried to block the sounds out, but it took several minutes of failed attempts and fist banging against the floor before I was able to centre myself enough to detach. I could still hear everything, but the sounds were more muted and allowed me to breathe again.

  I took a shaky step upright. Nothing happened. The noise still there, but controlled now, the world not closing in on me in a crushing wave. I took a deep breath in and walked over to the door. Naturally it was locked, but by no locking mechanism that I could see. I felt around the edges of the shiny metal frame, unable to find purchase, or any indication of locks or even hinges. It was just a solid mass of metal, stuck inside another metal frame. I frantically glanced around the room, to see if there was something I could try and pry down the sides of the door. I rushed over the bedside table and quickly rifled through the drawers. Nothing, just paperback books, pads and flimsy ballpoint pens. I dashed into the bathroom and checked the cupboards there, nada. The dressing room was next, I flung clothes aside, emptied drawers and cupboards, but everything was just useless. Not nearly strong enough, nowhere near the right shape or size. I stifled a panicked whimper and reinforced my shields as the sounds from outside threatened to encroach.

  Finally, I remembered my stakes and grabbed one out of my jacket. I ran back to the door and thrust it into the small gap on the side, the point of the stake going about 10mm in. Not much, but these stakes were solid, strong, moulded by a top silversmith in Egypt. Both of them gifts from Nero. I started moving the stake up and down the gap and then gently prying it sideways. Nothing was giving, so I tried the other side and then the top, standing on a chair and then the bottom. Nothing changed. Out of frustration I slammed the stake as hard as I could into the side the locks should have been on and put all of my concentration into sending any power that resided in me towards the door, then twisted the stake as if to pry it open. I heard a snap, briefly thought I had succeeded, then felt my stake come away and watched its tip fall to the floor.

  No friggin' way!

  I couldn't help it, I screamed out in frustration and sunk to the floor with my back to the door and my head in my hands. I was trapped. Even if I tried to d
ig my way out through the walls, I knew Michel would have had the room lined, somehow, to be as strong as the door. It was useless. I felt useless. All I could do was sit here and listen to sounds of destruction and death coming from inside the bar.

  Then I felt it. Michel's sudden fear, quickly replaced by searing pain. I was up on my feet screaming for someone to open the door in an instant, pounding against its solid mass until my hands were raw. All I could feel though, was Michel's pain, interlaced with his desire to strike out, obviously at whatever or whoever had hurt him. He was full of anger, but he was having a hard time battling the pain, which was like fire through me, from the top of my head, right to the tips of my toes. My whole body felt like it was burning, so hot and raw and unfair. My heart was racing and the sense of panic I felt was threatening to make me vomit. I realised I'd stopped banging on the door and was actually trying to pull strands of my hair out. I succeeded when a couple came away in my hand, stinging my scalp and making me separate myself briefly from Michel. I gasped, as soon as his emotions came flooding back in.

  He was fighting the pain and for a moment it felt like he was winning, his power level so great, it was thrumming through my veins, but it returned again with a vengeance. I couldn't take it, I was practically climbing out of my skin, my mind a raw mess of emotions, my heartbeat so loud I could hear it in my ears.

  I began to concentrate on the sound of my heart, not trying to stop its rapid pace, but simply as a focal point to centre my mind. I felt like I was drifting away from reality, that this couldn't possibly be happening, that I hadn't seen a bright, young, lovable Taniwha die right in front of my eyes, or that Michel could possibly be hurting, dying right now. I could not believe it. I would not believe it.

  I lay myself down on the floor on my side, curled up in a ball and just listened to my heartbeat, drowning out all other sounds of battle and all other sensations of Michel and just allowing myself to float there, not alive but not dead either. My body felt like it was just shutting down, the numbness that came over it a welcome relief from the pain and fear and heartache from before. I could stay like this forever. I could choose not to come back to this harsh world, that has such beautiful beings in it, amongst such evil. This felt right.

  Then as I allowed myself that final move toward the blissfulness of nothing, the world changed around me and I was standing in the centre of the club, surrounded by fifty vampires, all in various forms of battle. The air was thick with vampire dust, but there was still so many. I looked down at my hands and found I was already holding my second stake. Another vision, just like before, I could hear, smell, feel everything, but no one could see or sense me. This was a gift I could not ignore.

  I searched frantically for Michel, but couldn't see him anywhere. I couldn't feel him at all either and that made me very, very scared. I could sense other vampires' Sanguis Vitam, but for Michel there was just a void. Panic threatened me and my vision began to blur. I swallowed quickly and centred myself, reaching out my senses to hear my heartbeat and bring me back to the club.

  As the room coalesced around me again I tightened my grip on my stake and entered the fray. It was easy pickings. A small part of me felt like I was cheating, they had no defence. They couldn't hear me or see me. The first thing they knew of my existence was the feel of my stake sliding into their heart. But then I saw what they were doing to my vampires and yes, I had a strong sense of Michel's vampires belonging to me. Well, at least, they belonged to my city and I was damned if someone else was going to take out the vampires of my city without my consent. That was my job and I so did not want to share.

  I had dispatched about nine when I heard Enrique shout to Jock that something was wrong. Wrong! Are you kidding, I'm helping you here. But all Enrique could see was powerful master vampires being cut down in the droves and no reason for it happening. His fear blinded him to the fact that they were all Max's men and not ours. He had just taken out two vampires and had his back to the wall, scanning the room intently when I walked up to him and stood about a foot away, he didn't see me, didn't acknowledge me at all. I tentatively waved my hand in front of his face. Nothing.

  “Huh?” I muttered under my breath.

  “Who said that?” Enrique's eyes were wide, but his face had returned to its implacable mask. Show no fear.

  Fancy that, he could hear me. Cool. “It's me you dolt. And I thought you'd be happy I was helping out. I have only been targeting Max's guys after all.”

  He let out a yelp and leaned forward slightly. “Lucinda?”

  “Got it in one,” I said then turned and took out a vamp that had approached while Enrique was choking on his tongue trying to get himself under control.

  “How are you doing this?” he asked as he started regaining his composure and scanning the room for approaching threats.

  “Beats the hell out of me. Have you seen Michel?”

  “No. I can't even see you.” I rolled my eyes, of course he couldn't see me.

  “Gotta go, more vamps to kill.” And I ran in the opposite direction. I felt he was somewhat in control again, I didn't think the bad guys would get the drop on him now, so it was time to leave.

  I spent the next twenty minutes taking out all but a few of Max's vampires in the room, making Michel's very nervous, but not exactly ungrateful of the respite. I did leave a few stragglers behind for Enrique and Jock to finish off. Michel's vamps and I'm guessing those of Enrique, Jock and Alessandra, were damaged and sore and we had lost quite a few, but I spotted Bruno and to my utter surprise, Shane Smith, so at least there was a bonus in there too.

  But no Michel. Where the hell was he?

  It dawned on me as I stopped to catch my breath, that I hadn't seen Alessandra or Max, for that matter, too, maybe they were where Michel was. I couldn't sense Michel, but I could sense everyone else, so I sent my spidey-sense or whatever the hell it was, out into the room and beyond, seeking them out.

  I found them in the basement of the club, both of them, no-one else.

  I dashed across the room and slammed into the door to the basement at the rear of the club. The stairwell was dark and dusty, not your usual dust either, the vampire kind. There'd been a battle here, a big one. I carefully stepped onto the stairs and watched as the thick dust swirled and puffed outwards away from my foot. I looked back at the steps behind me and in the light coming from the club could see my footprints as they descended the stairs. Creepy.

  At the bottom of the stairs it was pitch black, but I could see light coming from the direction of Alessandra and Max's power, right at the end of the hallway. Michel had told me there were storerooms and vampire sleeping chambers off this corridor.

  Remembering that old saying, only fools rush in, I decided to do a quick scan with my senses to see if anyone lurked off to the side hidden. They couldn't see me or sense me, but knowing my luck, they could probably find a way to kill me, so I wasn't risking it. Despite my heart and mind yelling at me to Move it, Dammit!

  I couldn't sense a thing other than the pulsing power of those vampires ahead of me, so I quickly scurried along the hallway not giving a damn about the disturbed dust. I choked back a cough and peered in through the crack in the slightly ajar door. Alessandra and Max were facing off at each other, energy balls blazing, electricity filling the air. Michel was in a heap in the corner, I couldn't see him move, breathe, anything. Of course, that didn't really tell me much, vampires don't need to breathe, but it left me feeling shaky all the same.

  The room was quite large, about the size of an average house's lounge, dining and kitchen put together, so that would make it three times the size of mine. There were two solid columns equally spaced in the middle, with support beams above to hold the floor of the bar up. Stacked along one side, covering the entire wall from floor to ceiling, were various boxes of top shelf liquor, surprisingly most of it was still intact. The room was otherwise empty of stock or furniture, either the storage space unused, or vaporised by the vampires now wielding an eno
rmous amount of Sanguis Vitam at each other.

  Alessandra's dress had been shorn off just below her butt, beautiful streamlined legs, going from here to Africa, for all I could tell - they were so long - were pouring out of the bottom of what remained of her dress. Her top was slightly ripped, but mainly OK and her hair only ever so slightly disturbed. This bitch just couldn't look bad anywhere, could she?

  Max was sweating slightly and did have a quite a few rips in his shirt, his right sleeve having been completely torn off. There was blood all over his legs, I couldn't help feeling that some of that just might have been a friend's. I shook my head to clear it of that thought. He looked OK, but it was evident that he had been in a furious battle and only recently as some of the marks on his arm and cheek were only just healing over. Maybe Michel had managed to get a few strikes in before he fell after all?

  I decided, while their concentration was on each other, I had to take my chance. I slowly opened the door, centimetre by centimetre, by the time I had it wide enough for me to slip through, Alessandra was on one knee, still battling, still looking frighteningly beautiful, but losing ground by the second. I slipped in and ran around the edge of the room to Michel. They didn't even notice the dust softly swirling in my wake.

  I knelt down beside his body on the floor and gently reached out to touch him. He was warm. Thank God. And although I couldn't sense an ounce of power rolling off him, I could sense Michel was alive. I'm not quite sure how to describe it, but combined with the warmth, I just got a feeling of his presence, no power, just him, like a soul was lurking nearby. Weird doesn't even cover it.

  I bent my head down to his ear and softly whispered, “Michel. Wake up. Michel, please don't be gone.” My voice cracked a little then, which kind of sounded strange. If you've ever heard someone whisper and it cracks, you'd understand. Husky and squeaky at the same time. Not attractive.