Kindred (Kindred, Book 1)

by Nicola Claire

  I nodded and lowered my shields, letting his tingling touch wash over me, pulling me into a loving embrace and helping me drift off to the happy realm of sleep, with the knowledge I was safe and secure and home.

  Just before I fell completely into that beautiful and familiar abyss, a thought appeared to me, I'd missed an appointment today.

  Where had Nero been?

  Chapter 28

  Memories

  When I awoke, Michel was sleeping next to me, his arm and a leg over my body, his face nestled against my neck. He was warm and soft and for a moment I just didn't want to move, but stay there wrapped up in his embrace forever. I turned carefully, so as not to disturb him and just took my time watching him sleep, soaking him in.

  You'd think a vampire would go into that stillness, that absolute preternatural calm, when they sleep. There's no reason for them to breathe, they don't need to, or to have a beating heart for that matter either. It's superfluous to their needs. I'm guessing the younger vampires don't keep up that pretence, instead letting their bodies go to that place, wherever it is, that allows them to rest during the day. But for the older vampires, it's so easy. They've spent centuries pretending, so they could fit in, move amongst the humans without detection. For a vampire like Michel, even making your heart beat and your lungs work when asleep, would be second nature.

  His face was relaxed, in a look I hadn't seen on him before. He's always so controlled when in public, even with me. I get the feeling sometimes, that every emotion or reaction that crosses his face, is actually premeditated. Nothing Michel does is not planned, controlled, yet here he was with a softness to his features that made him seem just like a little boy. A beautiful little boy.

  He would have been gorgeous as a child. I wondered then, what his life was like before he was changed. I realised I knew so little about him really, only his recent history here in New Zealand. I only knew he was originally from France, but where in France and what was his life like then? The enormity of what his age meant hit me like a blow to the stomach. Five hundred years old was a long time to live.

  “Are you going to watch me all day, ma douce?”

  He hadn't opened his eyes, but he had a little smile on his face, lifting up the corners of his mouth. Figures he'd been faking the sleeping too.

  “How did you know?”

  He opened his eyes then, so deeply blue and reached up to stroke a wayward few strands of my hair off my face.

  “I felt your emotions. I think I may be getting used to them a little, I am starting to look forward to them. It is fascinating how many different emotions you seem to feel all at once. You flick from one to the next like a little bird in a tree, hopping from branch to branch. Fascinating.”

  “You looked so peaceful sleeping there, so relaxed.”

  “I am. I have you with me.” He kissed my forehead, then my cheek. “Are you not at peace too?”

  And here's the thing, I so was. Being with Michel fed my soul. I have always felt that returning to my parents' farm was where I charged my batteries best, being back with the lambs, feeling the wind come over the hills, the smell of the grass in the paddocks, the sound of the sheep in the fields. It had always been where I went to centre myself, to block out the craziness that had become my life when I moved to Auckland. But now, this sense of peace, of belonging, when I was with Michel, was so great and so, so very good. I could not imagine that returning to the farm would ever hold for me what it once did.

  “Yes. Yes I am.”

  He pulled me close at that and just held me for some time. It became apparent, after several minutes of Michel not letting me go and me not wanting to be let go, that going to work today was not on the agenda. The Bond had other plans for us; wonderful, delicious plans, but not my normal routine, that was for sure. Part of me was very happy to oblige the Bond, but another part, that loud-mouthed insistent internal monologue part, kept telling me I still needed to be me, to not let this thing between Michel and me take over the person I once was.

  I needed to be able to go to work, to have that very normal, very human part of my life to myself. No vampires, no vampire politics and definitely no vampire Bond. I also needed my apartment, my sanctuary. Staying here with Michel was bliss, my body craved it like a drug addict craves his next fix, but my mind told me otherwise. If I gave in to Michel and became his trophy kindred Nosferatin, trailing him and doing his every bidding, then I would never have any chance of equality in this relationship. Not that vampires are good at the whole equality thing, far from it, they tend to climb and crawl and claw their way to the top and once there, fight tooth and nail to keep it.

  Michel may have strong feelings for me and I think, possibly, maybe, something a bit more. But he was still a vampire, and vampires liked to be master of their domain. His head might tell him I am an equal partner here, but the vampire within would want me to obey. I had never been good with authority figures, I wasn't about to change that character trait now.

  Besides, I'd had quite a bit of time off work lately. That whole week after Dream Walking twice in one night, then several days due to fight injuries and now the Bond. My boss may have been glazed into believing I had been there all that time, but my conscience had not. This could not go on.

  But, for now, the Bond called.

  As great as it was spending all day with Michel in bed, touching, kissing, exploring, breathing each other in, I also wanted to get to know more than just his body, as beautifully seductive as it was. I wanted to get to know him. That's only reasonable after all, isn't it?

  “What was your life like before you were changed?” It was mid-afternoon and I had just finished a tray of snacks and fruit juice brought to Michel's chamber by his staff, I was plucking the skin off an apple, nibbling little bits, bit by bit. Michel was in his usual position, reclining on the bed watching me, feasting with his eyes. He smiled when I asked the question, a lovely little curve of his lips, a small sparkle in his eyes.

  “It was a long time ago, ma douce, I am no longer that person. You would not have recognised me.”

  I raised my eyebrows at him, I wasn't going to let him just brush this off. I wanted to know and some part of me felt that the secret to Michel may lie in his past and I couldn't uncover that secret unless he told me.

  He let a soft laugh out at my expression. “You really want to know?”

  “Yes.”

  “You may not like what you hear.”

  “I'll take my chances.”

  He put a hand through his hair, a gesture I was becoming more familiar with, one he only seemed to use in my presence.

  “I have not talked of my life pre-vampyrism for some time.”

  He had started looking off into the distance, as though he was seeing another world. He sighed.

  “I grew up in a small village near Lyon. A simple life, I was not of noble blood. My father worked hard to put food on the table, my mother even harder to make something of what little he could provide. We often went hungry to bed as children. I learnt at an early age, to have anything in life, one must fight for it.”

  A bitter smile. A small shake of his head.

  “Prospects were poor in my village. My father died at a somewhat early age and I was left to provide for not only my mother and younger sisters, but also my... family too. What skills did I have? I could fight. I had been fighting since I could walk. My life had consisted of one brawl and then another. I was not exactly feared in my village..., well maybe, by some, but I was well known for my skills in a battle. The new militia were seeking soldiers, so I joined. Sending every livre I could home.”

  He stopped then, still looking into the distance. I wasn't sure if he would go on, there seemed to be such sadness in his eyes. For some reason I hadn't thought that talking of his past life would cause him this much pain. How could I have been so cruel to have brought this up? I put my apple down on the tray and moved it off the bed, then came to sit in front of him. His gaze came back to me, from that place s
o far away, so long ago. The blues swirling their differing shades, a small shine to his eye I had not seen before. He reached up and stroked my face, obviously seeing the concern I felt for him there, feeling my compassion.

  “It is all right, ma douce. I had forgotten so much.”

  “Don't say anything else. You don't need to remember.”

  “Remembering is not such a bad thing. It is cathartic, I think.”

  He leaned forward, his hand behind my neck and kissed my forehead. “I want you to know.” His breath was hot against my skin.

  “I was 32 when I was changed. I had not asked for it. I was a member of la nouvelle France's first standing army since Roman times. It was a heady time in our history. Political structures which would remain for centuries were formed. Absolute monarchy was the order of the day. Not being of noble blood, I started at the lowest of ranks, but I was an excellent soldier and rose to a command swiftly. My successes allowing for a position of rank usually only given those of certain birth.

  “I had my detractors of course, especially those of the aristocracy who resented my favour with the King. I had come to Charles' attention after commanding a brutal battle with the English. It had been a crucial victory in our expelling them from our shores. The turning point you might say. But despite my position as a favoured servant to the realm, I came under attack.”

  He paused then and sighed. It was the sort of sigh that broke your heart, it said more than that action alone should ever convey, it said the weight of the world had come to rest on this person's shoulders and would be borne there for the rest of his life. In Michel's case, that had proved to be many times the length of a normal human's. I could only imagine what that weight must have done to him in all that time.

  “They came for my family first. I was under commission at the time, away from our village. Of course, I didn't know of their fate until after the fact. I received word that there had been an accident and took leave from my battalion immediately, returning in all haste. It was a trap. But, thankfully the family had been killed swiftly. For such a harsh time in France's history, that was a small miracle. Those who would have me killed, however, did not dirty their own hands, nor rely on soldiers to carry out the order as they had my families deaths. They sent instead an assassin, someone they turned to for delicate matters. My death would not go unnoticed, it needed to be carried out with care.

  “They did not know however, that that assassin was a vampyre. Amicus used the opportunity to kill for a living, as a source of easy food. He had not expected I would fight so hard, that I would nearly succeed in killing him. I did not know what he was, so the deep cut to his throat and the knife to the stomach seemed sufficient and I left. Determined to exact revenge on those who had killed my kin. Amicus needed to rest before repairing, but when he rose again he hunted me down. I had not gone far.”

  This had all been said so matter of factly, with so little emotion, just a story being recited from a book. I had no doubt that it was to protect himself, break it all down to just events, not emotions. I was surprised that Michel was laying himself so bare to me, I had asked the question, but never dared to think he would open up so fully, let me see so much. Despite the sadness of the story, I couldn't help feeling privileged to be with him right now.

  “What did you do?”

  He smiled his usual knowing smile, the Michel I knew was back. “Amicus had seen my potential, he turned me, expecting me to be a strong servant to command. It took just over fifty years to surpass his Sanguis Vitam level and to exact the last of my revenge. The rest, as they say, is history.” He smiled broadly at that.

  I wanted to ask more, to ask what he had done for the 500 years since being turned, but I didn't get a chance. With a swift movement, just barely off that of a blur, Michel had me on my back, his body pinning mine, his mouth laying kisses all over my body.

  “Now, enough! On to much more pleasurable pastimes I think.”

  Whatever happened to not having sex every day? God help me.

  By the time we emerged from the tangled covers of limbs and covers and sweat-soaked sheets, the sun had set and Sensations was in full swing. Michel had Bruno bring me a change of clothes, so I was able to dress in my normal attire. I'm not a Goth, but I do like black. Hides better in the shadows and you never know when you may need to be hidden. I was sitting at the bar next to Bruno, Michel was at a table on the far side of the room, watching me, but dealing with his business needs, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  By the time I had turned around, Bruno had Rick's arm in his beefy grip and was pulling it around behind his back. Rick grimaced, but didn't complain, just growled a low warning to Bruno.

  “Let go of me, vampire.”

  “Hands off. Lucinda is taken.”

  Great. Here's the ownership thing again.

  “Let go of him, Bruno. He's a friend.” I placed a hand on Bruno's arm to get his attention.

  “No. You are not welcome here.” Bruno directed that statement at Rick with an increase of pressure on his arm.

  “What do you mean he's not welcome! Of course he is, he's my friend,” I replied incredulously.

  Bruno didn't let go, but turned his face slowly to look at me with those fierce uncompromising eyes. “No, Lucinda. He is not welcome.”

  I got it then. He was receiving instructions from Michel, those silent orders spanning the airwaves.

  “I'll deal with this,” I said as I stomped off towards where Michel was sitting with another vamp.

  He was deep in conversation, pretending he wasn't even aware of what was going on across the room, he wasn't fooling me. He looked up at my approach.

  “Lucinda?”

  Don't Lucinda me, buddy. “Tell Bruno to back off.” I kept my voice steady, I was kind of proud of how it sounded.

  Michel simply looked past me to the scene still unfolding at the bar, as though it was the first time he knew anything about it.

  “Bruno is in charge of maintaining the standard of occupancy in the club. He is only doing his job.”

  “I'm sure he is only doing his job, but it's not to chuck the riff-raff out is it? Rick is my friend, Michel. I'd like him to stay.”

  His face clouded briefly, before returning to its usual mask of calm.

  “Excuse me, Simon. I must attend my Nosferatin.”

  The way he said it sounded more like I must discipline my wayward Nosferatin, but the vampire didn't say anything, just nodded and left the booth they had been in.

  “Sit, Lucinda.” When I didn't make a move other than to fold my arms across my chest, he sighed and added, “Please?”

  I slunk down into the seat opposite him.

  “Tell Bruno to back off, Michel.” Repetition, my mantra with stubborn vamps.

  Michel sat looking at me for a moment, then scratched his head slowly. “We are in the middle of establishing a Bond, Lucinda. It is important we do not get distracted.”

  “OK. But, you can work and deal with your vampire stuff, talking to other vampires, isn't that a distraction?”

  “It is merely business, my dear, nothing of a personal nature. Your relationship with the shape shifter is quite different.”

  “He's a friend, Michel. That's all.”

  “So you say.”

  “What, you don't believe me?” He gave me a look then, one that said back off.

  Neither of us said anything for a while, just sat there looking at one another. I had to hide a smile though, when it was Michel who broke the silence first.

  “What would you have me do, ma douce? My kin are aware of our Bonding, to allow the shape shifter -” “His name is Rick.” “- to remain would be an insult to my position, would it not? I cannot allow to been seen as threatened.”

  “Rick threatens you?”

  “Of course.” He said it with barely contained exasperation.

  OK. This I hadn't seen coming. Michel being jealous of my friendship, yes, but to actually feel threatened, as though Rick could take me a
way, no – I hadn't seen that coming at all. Michel's always in control, this seemed to indicate an area he was not quite as sure of his control as he would have liked.

  He reached over and took my hand. “Can you understand?”

  Yes, I could understand, but to give in now would be to accept my position as the less powerful one in this relationship, it would hand Michel control of our interactions for a long time to come. In the eyes of him and his vampires, I would have toed the line, just like a good servant Nosferatin should. Also, Rick is my friend, why shouldn't I have that relationship with him? How could I ask him to leave, he wouldn't understand vampire politics.

  No. I couldn't let Michel do this, I had to stand my ground.

  I'd had my head down, staring at Michel's hand holding mine, biting my lip while I worked through all of this, when I raised it and looked into Michel's eyes, I realised he'd felt all of my emotions and knew exactly what my answer would be.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. “I am sorry.”

  I didn't understand what he meant at first. Sorry he was acting the way he was? Sorry he had asked for Rick to leave? Sorry Bruno was being an over zealous Mafioso bodyguard? But then I heard Rick shout out, from across the room, “See ya later, Luce. Gotta Go.”

  I turned to see him wave and smile and simply walk out the door. It took a minute for my mind to catch up with that picture and then I saw the glow slowly fading in Bruno's eyes as he turned back to his drink at the bar and I felt the world turn a hazy shade of red at the realisation of what Michel had Bruno do.

  Rick had been glazed.

  Chapter 29

  You Glow

  I immediately took my hand back from Michel's and balled it in a fist, resting it on the top of the table between us.

  “How could you?” It was low, even and dripping in anger.

  “You left me no choice.”

  “There is always a choice, Michel. You just have trouble choosing the right one, it would seem.”

  He sighed. “I do not wish to fight with you, ma douce.”