Kindred (Kindred, Book 1)

by Nicola Claire

  This was big. Vampires may be aware of each, even keep a close eye on each other, but those so powerful as Nafrini and Michel, were unlikely to get too close. That territorial side of them unable to share. It just went against their nature to openly let someone as powerful as themselves, or potentially more powerful than themselves, in. The risk was too great. Nafrini must be desperate to have considered this, as was Nero for disclosing his community's existence. I suddenly felt like the power in this new found relationship I had with Nero, had shifted to me.

  “Why has Nafrini not approached Michel herself?”

  “It was thought more prudent to go through you.” That didn't surprise me, somehow I thought Michel's response to this enterprise would not be positive.

  I didn't relish the idea of approaching Michel on this. He could quite as easily decide that the joining of Nosferatin in Egypt with the Cadre was not a concern of his. Auckland may be a hot-spot for supernaturals, but it was also far enough away to not be on the Cadre's radar, especially as I was no longer available and Max was not around to exact revenge. There would be no reason for them to come at us, when doing so would gain them little more than a location to control. Right now, their goal was immature Nosferatin, those capable of giving them the power boost they desired. Of course, by not helping to stop them, they would go unheeded on their path of domination and when they had consumed all the power they could, they could then turn their attention to our shores. That was going to have to be the argument I used.

  Because, I already knew in my heart, that I wanted to do this. That I couldn't abandon my kin, as I had felt they had abandoned me.

  “OK. I'll get him on board. We'll help you.”

  He rose then and came around the counter to face me, taking both my hands in his and raising them to his mouth to brush warm, soft lips against my knuckles in a silent kiss. I forced myself not to pull away and show the effect that simple action was having on me. His eyes met mine and I knew I had failed miserably.

  “I never doubted you would join us. I had not, however, expected you to be so captivating, so entirely enchanting.” When I didn't say anything in return, he gave me one more of those devastating smiles, lighting up the room in the warmth of its glow. “I shall leave you now, as my Nafrini calls, but it is with the utmost regret.”

  I found my voice, somehow the thought of him dropping everything to run when called by his vampire gave my voice the strength that it had only just now lacked. “I have more questions. About what I am, what I can do.”

  “And you shall have answers, my little Kiwi. Tomorrow, I could not stay away any longer, than deny who I am.” He nodded his head again, in that slow measured movement, a ghost of a kiss on my lips and flickered out of sight, the warmth of his hands and mouth still lingering against mine.

  It was difficult to think of anything else as I waited for sunset to arrive and the chance to talk to Michel. I decided to head towards Sensations early, making my arrival there right on dusk. There was a vamp I didn't recognise on the door, a big guy, similar in build to Bruno, but with a crooked nose - that didn't make him lose any of his handsome features, but instead just dirtied them up a bit, like he could be a bad boy if he tried and you let him - and rosy red lips. His hair was in a mass of dark curls, cascading down his back, he was dressed in the obligatory black, tight jeans and an even tighter top. His muscles bulged everywhere. And I mean everywhere. There appeared to be a sudden influx of damn fine looking men in my world all of a sudden.

  He had a strong Sanguis Vitam signature, level two I'd say, but he was reining it in, keeping it in check. I had no doubt this guy could be intimidating, but instead he just levelled his big baby blue eyes on me and inclined his head in greeting.

  “Evening, Lucinda. I am Jett, it is a pleasure to meet the Master's kindred.”

  Well I'll be. A polite vampire. “Hi Jett. I haven't seen you around before.”

  “I am new to the family. Michel has kindly taken those of us willing, in Jock's line, under his protection. He has my undying support as does his kindred Nosferatin.”

  Oh, well that made sense. Although Jock had not been under the Durand line, he had an accord with Michel, making him a close ally at the very least. And because of Michel's higher power level, a subject to Michel's power at the most. As Jock had been killed, all of those vampires under him were now masterless, having to find their own way in the supernatural world without the protection of a family. Some of them, like old Jett here, would have been strong enough to branch out on their own, but political wheeling and dealing that is the vampire world, would have undoubtedly made Jett choose to align himself with Michel. Michel was powerful now, rather than step out on his own and have to perhaps combat Michel in the future for the snub his declining Michel's offer would have been, he chose the politically correct road. Join forces and keep Michel happy.

  So, the family had grown. Why did that scare me ever so slightly?

  “OK. Well, welcome to the family, I guess.” He nodded and opened the door to the club for me.

  It was early, so there weren't too many people around, but Shane Smith was manning the door to the private area where I could feel Michel was, so I headed on over, taking a cursory glance around me. It never pays to not notice your surroundings when you're a vampire hunter. And despite being Michel's kindred Nosferatin and all and the hubbub that created, making all the big bad vampires offer up their undying whatever, I could never let my guard down. It just wasn't in my nature anymore.

  Shane's face broke into it's usual unguarded smile. “Hey, Luce. How're ya doing?”

  I couldn't help it, I smiled back. Part of me wondered though, if Shane wasn't as stupid as he appeared. He had the uncanny ability to make a hardened vampire hunter lower her guard with just a smile. What had I just been saying about that not being in my nature any more?

  “Good thanks, Shane. How about you?”

  “Never better. The boss has given me a promotion.” He said it with such pride, as though this was something he had been coveting for some time and Michel had just given him the moon. He said it as though he would do everything in his power not to let the faith in him, the boss had shown, down.

  “That's great, Shane! What's the job?”

  “Liaison to all the new vamps joining the family. I'm to help them settle.”

  Oh dear, poor Shane. He had no idea what he was up against. Some of those new guys would have his guts for garters, no two ways about it. The desire to climb the ladder in the Durand line would be too great and what better way to show the boss they had what it took to be at the top of the heap, than prove their domination over another. Shane was a prime target. Why had Michel put him in that spot? Was he testing him? Was he tired of him and just wanted the problem that was Shane and his non-existent power level, solved by someone else's hand other than his own? I only hoped Shane was a whole lot more clever than I had been giving him credit for all along.

  “Well, that's, um, super, Shane. Good luck with that.”

  He just beamed at me and punched the code in the door that lead to Michel's quarters.

  I walked down the plush hallway with a soft smile playing on my lips. Shane just did that to me, plus I was about to see Michel, how could I not be smiling?

  I had barely stepped inside his office, where I had felt his presence and sensed his Sanguis Vitam softly humming, when I felt a hard unforgiving hand go around my throat, almost crushing it and my feet suddenly leave the floor as my body was hoisted in the air and thrust hard against the wall at my back.

  Oomph.

  What the fuck?

  Chapter 24

  Never Piss a Master Vampire Off

  My stake was out and pushed against the chest of the vampire that held me in an instant. If I hadn't have been able to focus properly and see just who that vampire was, I would have slid the stake home without a second's pause, without any hesitation at all.

  His grip lessened, I'm guessing in response to the tip of that very sharp
silver stake and I slid down the wall to land on my now extremely shaky legs, his hand still at my throat, the swirls of amethyst, violet and magenta battling in his eyes, his fangs flashing in the light of the room.

  “What are you doing?” I croaked.

  “You smell of another,” Michel's voice growled. “It is all over you. You reek.”

  Charming. I stink do I? “Well, you're the one adding to the Durand line,” I said, trying to pry his fingers off my throat. He didn't budge, at least I could swallow though. Oh, and breathe.

  “This is not one of mine. I do not recognise the scent.” His voice hadn't altered, it thrummed with unbridled menace.

  Huh? “I haven't been near any other vampires, other than Jett at the door and Shane inside the bar. You're mistaken.”

  He growled and I swear it sounded like a Taniwha or tiger or some other particularly big and scary and nasty wild animal.

  Suddenly I couldn't swallow after all.

  “I..I don't know who it is. I swear I haven't been near another vampire, Michel. Now. Let. Me. Go!” I had raised my stake back up to his chest, pushing the tip of it in through the fabric of his jacket, but not piercing his skin.

  “Would you kill me and in turn yourself, Hunter?”

  “If I had to, yes.” I hadn't hesitated, not even flinched.

  We stared at each other then. Michel searching my face for an answer he wasn't going to get. I was scared and angry, my throat hurt like a bitch and I was damned if I was going to let him see any of that.

  He slowly released his hand from my throat, I fought every instinct and desire I had to touch where he had nearly crushed me and just met his gaze and lifted my chin. His eyes travelled to the marks he had left on my neck and I saw him hesitate, as if noticing for the first time that he had hurt me.

  “Someone has marked you,” he said quietly, rigidly. “It is an intentional mark. They mean for me to notice it.” His hand reached up and touched my neck then, tracing the bruises already forming there, his eyes still blazing, but not holding the menace of before. “I could have killed you. I wanted to.”

  My mind was reeling, he wanted to kill me? I had never seen that one coming and now the realisation of the world I had just married myself into, was slamming against my mind. What the hell have I done? Pushing that daunting thought aside, I tried to focus on the immediate problem. I hadn't been in contact with any vampires other than Jett and Shane today. I actually hadn't been in touch with anyone, I'd stayed inside my apartment all day, catching up on laundry and housework, even a vampire hunter has chores. The only other being I had seen was Nero.

  Nero. He had held my hands, kissing both them and me before he left. It didn't make sense, but somehow I knew that Nero had done this, had not been able to resist the urge. Could Nero fake vampire scent? Was it one of his powers?

  Michel was watching me intently, he knew I had figured something out, hell he could probably sense my emotions. What was I feeling? Initially fear, anger and uncertainty. Now it was more like confusion, resentment and unfortunately, I can't deny it, awe laced with respect. Nero, you naughty, naughty boy.

  Michel cocked a delicate eyebrow at me. Oh great, this was going to be fun. Not.

  “Um, I had a visit from Nero today.”

  Michel stilled, didn't say anything but the implication of his rigid stance and continued raised eyebrows said go on.

  “He wants to train me. Help me to develop my skills as a Nosferatin.” I figured that was the least threatening thing to open with, mustn't upset the already borderline homicidal vampire. His fangs were still out after all.

  “Why now?” Oh goody, short sentences. Maybe Michel was picking up that habit from me. He doesn't miss much though, cutting right to the crux of the issue with those two simple words.

  My throat was well and truly burning now, swallowing was damn near impossible. I could feel hot tears trying to pool in the corner of my eyes. Damn it all to hell, I was going to have to be the one to give in, wasn't I?

  I reached up to my throat and managed a half croak, half whispered, “Ouch.” Pathetic? Me? Nah.

  He couldn't help it, I knew he was fighting it, but his lips quirked at the edges slightly and gave himself away. He reached up and placed one hand behind my head, cupping my neck, the other began tracing the bruises at the front and sides.

  “Lower your shields,” he said softly.

  The rush of tingling his healing touch gave me came thrumming into my neck, I felt the ache lessen and my throat expand again, but it didn't stop there. He sent a wave of pure desire through me, hot and sharp and oh so sweet, making me gasp and collapse against his chest. I tried to raise my shields against the onslaught of hunger and need I was now forced to feel, but his Sanguis Vitam fluctuated, practically slapping them away, with a simple flick. He was proving a point, or trying to mark me himself, either way I was completely at his mercy.

  I had forgotten just how intoxicating his power could be, when he wanted to, he could turn me into a puddle of molten goo begging for release. I hadn't had to think about it lately, just before we'd joined he'd been somewhat behaving himself and after we joined, his power had no effect over me at all. Only when I allowed him to, like now, by lowering my shields. I swore to myself that I would rather be in excruciating pain for eternity than ever let him behind my walls again.

  His mouth came down and claimed mine, kissing with a ferociousness I hadn't seen before. “You are mine,” he growled against my lips before sending a spike of longing through me that made me whimper out loud.

  His hand was still clutching my neck, the other now moving up and down my side, around my back, down to my rear and then back up to my breast. His touch, which normally would have sent uncontrolled shudders through my body anyway, simply burned me now, when coupled with his power stoking the flames. The longing and desire had morphed into a fervent need and ardent hunger so hard and strong I could hardly breathe.

  I was clutching him and whimpering and moaning and making all manner of extremely unladylike demands, yet it wasn't enough. If I didn't get closer, didn't have all of him, I knew with a certainty that I would die. I was prepared to sell my soul for another kiss, murder a legion of innocents to feel his touch, and denounce all that is holy and light just to be near him.

  Every nerve ending was so raw, screaming out to be satisfied, my world had shrunk to just the two of us and he was denying me what I needed to breathe, to stay alive. The longing and need were interlaced with rejection and abandonment, but still didn't stop me from wanting more. My body begged, my mind implored and my words pleaded. Please, please, please, please, please, please.

  Finally, somehow, he must have realised that what he was doing was wrong, or at the very least managed to get some of his anger under control and decided I'd had enough punishment for the day. Because this was definitely his punishment, even if it hadn't been my fault, that Nero had marked me without my knowledge or consent, to a vampire the result was where the punishment laid and I had come to him smelling of someone else. His power level slowly diminished. The fervent desire and longing, need and hunger he had evoked within me, washing away, until finally, all that was left was rage. My rage, no one else's. It was all me and I threw it out at him as hard and as fast and with as much strength as I could muster.

  He stumbled backwards, with a look of surprise on his face, so I decided to give him more. I bundled up what hatred he had just created in me by forcing me to have those unwanted feelings, feelings that he could so easily have evoked in me with just his touch and words alone, and hurled it at him. Then followed it up with disbelief, incredulity, resentment, disgust and for good measure, so he could see just how much he had hurt me, humiliation, powerlessness, fright and finally mistrust. He had asked me once, not to force him to break my trust in him. It seems he hadn't needed my permission after all.

  He leaned back against the desk, panting. I hadn't realised I'd followed him as he'd continued to stumble back from the onslaught of my emotion
s. I was standing right in front of him, not touching but within reach. He looked ashen, slightly clammy. If I hadn't have known better, I'd have thought he was having a heart attack. Of course, vampires can't have those, unless you count the attack on the heart by a stake.

  He reached a hand up towards me, I couldn't tell at first if it was in defence or to be a threat, but when he said, “Please, ma douce, stop. I am not used to so much emotion. Please.” I realised the hand was to beseech.

  I suddenly felt sick to the stomach. I had lowered myself to the level of a vampire and whereas they had an excuse, albeit a bloody flimsy one - being unable to help their basic natures when so aroused - I did not. I wasn't forgiving him what he had just done, he knows better, he has it in him to fight the dark, the evil that exists in all vampires, he just chose the wrong path today. But I was ready to admit though, that he hadn't meant it as a personal attack, it was purely the basic response any vampire would have had and would have had to fight. He had just lost that fight today.

  I sunk to the floor on my knees, suddenly so exhausted and bewildered and sad. I guess he was getting regret in spades right now, because it was all that I could feel. He knelt down beside me and brushed my hair out of my eyes, stroked my cheek with his thumb, my jaw, then my neck.

  “Forgive me, ma belle. It seems I have much still to learn.”

  I don't know why, I guess it was the fact that I had just let such raw emotion run freely through me so unchecked, but I started crying, small tears at first, quickly followed by great big racking sobs I couldn't control. My body shook as the pain washed over me and the tears streamed down my face. He held me tightly, rubbing up and down my back, kissing my face and neck, and murmuring his apologies against my skin. I don't know how long we sat there for, holding on to each other, unable to let go, but eventually I stopped crying. He didn't, however, stop apologising for quite some time more.

  I may not have been angry at Michel any more, I did understand what a vampire was like after all. Even if I couldn't completely forgive him for not successfully fighting this dark side of himself today, I was however, unequivocally angry with Nero. What did he think he was doing? He had to have known what Michel's response to the scent would have been. He had to have known what danger he was putting me in. Why had he done it?