Dancing Dragon

by Nicola Claire

  “What have you been doing, ma douce?” My pet name, finally he said it again and all I could do was burst into tears like a baby.

  “Oh, ma douce.” He sounded as deeply in pain as me. “Let me help you. Lower your shields.”

  I did, it was still so automatic, even if I hadn't done it for a while. Before he moved out, it had been such a natural request, that I didn't even hesitate now. After everything we had been through, I still trusted him.

  His healing power washed over me, so familiar, so welcome. The first time anything of his Sanguis Vitam had found me in so long. I craved it. I missed it. I longed for it. I felt like a bloody idiot for wanting something he would only give under duress. Like now, seeing me in pain, being forced to use his powers to keep me healthy, an obligation of the joining.

  His powers left me feeling healed, but not nearly whole. He sat still next to me, his hand holding my arm and I thought he might say something, open up about what was happening to make him act the way he had been, let me back in a little perhaps. Take a step towards a healthier existence together. We would be side by side for eternity, after all. Once joined it cannot be broken. Only death would tear us apart now and even then we would both die together.

  But he didn't say anything, instead he raised my hand to his nose and sniffed. Then with lightning speed moved his face into the crook of my neck, over his new mark and inhaled deeply. His whole body went rigid.

  “Where have you just been, Lucinda?” His voice was a barely controlled growl.

  “London,” I managed to answer, trying my best not to show any fear.

  “Who was the vampire?” Still a growl.

  “I don't know, just some vamp who killed a human while feeding.” I didn't tell him I used my Sanguis Vitam Cupitor powers to seek him and then Dream Walked to him because of what I felt. He'd probably put two and two together, he didn't need me to confirm it.

  “His scent is familiar,” Michel said in a distracted voice. “It is all over you.” Then more forcefully, “What did you do?”

  What did he think I did? “I tried to stake him.”

  “You smell like you did more than that.” His gaze when he looked at me said volumes. He thought I had been unfaithful to him, despite his lack of interest, his absence in my life recently, I was still his possession and he wouldn't share.

  Regardless of the fact that he was wrong.

  “He pinned me to the ground, after he fractured my arm and then he disarmed me and decided to play with his food before he killed me too. I only just managed to get away, no doubt the reason why I needed some of your powers. He was strong. And old too.”

  He thought about that for a moment. I have no idea if he was accepting my excuse, my description of events, but finally he spoke again. “How old?”

  “One thousand, maybe even more.” Not something you say every day. Not many vampires last that long.

  Michel suddenly stood and began pacing, shaking his head and looking downright confused. Something you didn't normally see Michel Durand looking like at all.

  “I recognise his scent, but I cannot be sure. It has been so long and I thought him dead.” He laughed abruptly, a harsh bark of a laugh that made me jump. It just wasn't a sound you heard from Michel.

  “So tell me, Hunter. Who convinced you to play this trick?”

  Hunter? Michel never called me that. Every other vamp after my arse did, but not Michel. Never Michel. Unless he was playing a game, one that usually involved chasing me around the bedroom and proving just how much stronger and faster and sexier than me he is. Not that I would have any recent experience to back that up, but I cling to my memories. I can't stop my memories from playing over and over in my mind, no matter how much I don't want to be reminded of what I have lost.

  “It's no trick, Michel. I was pulled towards his evil, I Dream Walked to him. He won. I was too late. I failed and came home. No trick. I have no idea who he is.”

  Michel just looked at me and something flashed across his face. Sadness? Pain? I couldn't tell, but it made my heart ache even more, if that was possible.

  “It is a shame that I do not believe you, Lucinda.” And then he walked out the door.

  I didn't follow him. It was daylight and ordinarily that would have kept him in the house, with me, but he'd already proven he could make it here from the city under the sun. Perhaps it was a cloudy day, I didn't know. I hadn't been outside and because I have vampires living with me in this house, the shutters would remain down until this evening. But I didn't follow him because of that.

  I didn't follow him because I was frozen in the spot I sat, my heart in my throat and my mind a tumbling mess of discord. What had happened to my Michel? What had happened to us?

  I let the emotions I was feeling have free reign. I let them swirl inside me, spread out throughout me and cascade through the house. None of the other vampires would be able to feel them. But Michel, if he had stayed, would. I couldn't obviously talk to him about this. He simply wasn't hearing me anymore. And he couldn't read my mind. A projected thought could be misjudged, denied access to his consciousness, but emotions can't be faked.

  If he felt what I felt he'd know. It was my last form of defence. My last chance to bridge the gap. The gap which I had no idea how had formed. Why it existed at all.

  I didn't hear the front door open, but he didn't come back to the room either. I sat and waited, maybe for an hour, maybe longer, but he didn't come. And by then the emotions I was feeling had morphed from pain and hurt, and lost love and bewilderment, and confusion and dashed hopes, to anger and hatred and a sense of life being so not fair. Not fair at all.

  I showered and dressed quietly, in my usual hunter gear. Short-short black mini skirt, tight fitting black T-Shirt and custom made jacket with two silver stakes and a silver knife hidden in the pockets. Before I put my jacket on, I slid into my holder, sheathing my Svante sword down my back. No make-up, just a flick of my hands through my below shoulder length, brown, straight hair and I was done.

  A quick phone call to Michel's pilots at the airport and my flight was scheduled. I couldn't stay here any longer, I needed to get away. I needed a friendly face. Hell, I needed a shoulder to cry on. Auckland would have to survive without me for a couple for days. I needed out. I threw some gear together in a bag and walked down the stairs to find my vampire and guards and let them know they could take a mini break too. No way were they coming with me.

  I found Samson in the gym downstairs. I waited for him to finish with his weights and then stepped into the glow of lights by the door.

  “Hey!” he said, cheerfully.

  Samson and I had come a long way since he joined my line six weeks ago. We'd spent a lot of time together and I found I really liked him. He was intelligent and quick witted, but very quiet and reserved. Long blonde hair, invariably tied back at the base of his neck and big brown eyes, he was handsome, but what you noticed first about Samson was the mark, or Sigillum-like star, that graced his cheek. Laced with iridescent swirls and geometric designs, it was the mark of the Lux Lucis Tribuo. Samson was mine. A Brit, he had a nice accent and acted like a gentleman. He was so far removed from the evil Dark vampire I had been confronted with initially, that it was almost like he was a completely different person. I liked him, he had become a friend.

  “Hey, yourself. Um, I'm heading away for a couple of days, so take care of the place OK?”

  He finished wiping off his handsome face with his towel and threw it into the hamper in the corner. Nothing but net.

  “What's up, Luce? Are you running away?” Even Samson, having only known me for six weeks, knew me pretty damn well. I always run, it's what I do best. Other than staking evil undead creatures of the night that is. I just don't handle emotional confrontation well.

  “Not at all. I need a rest, a vacation. I'm going to visit Amisi for a couple of days. Do some girlie stuff, you know, paint our nails, stay up eating chocolate ice cream all night, talk about boys, maybe pick up a str
ay one along the way.”

  Samson huffed in response. “Yeah. That'll happen. What does Michel say?”

  “Say about what?” I asked, picking at a thread on my jacket that had come loose and was suddenly very interesting.

  “You haven't told him. Don't you think he'd like to know if his kindred Nosferatin is leaving the city?” he asked, gently.

  “What are you, Samson? My mother? Michel could give a rat's arse about what I do right now. Fuck Michel!”

  Samson suddenly stood up and then froze. It's not that he comes under Michel's influence, but Michel is his employer and the only reason he can stay in this city to be near me. Piss Michel off and he could get evicted, lose his night time job and income, and be made to stay away from his mistress: me. The one who makes him feel safe and warm and happy. So, I knew instantly what Samson's reaction was all about.

  “He's standing behind me, isn't he?” I said, casually.

  “Yes mistress, he is.”

  Ah crap.

  “Leave us, Samson, if you would.” Michel gave it as an order, but because Samson is not one of his vampires, he didn't lace it with Sanguis Vitam, just the menace of his office as Master of the City.

  Still, Samson is not a total weakling and he is mine. His loyalty is bound by the Light I washed his soul in.

  “Mistress. Do you wish for me to leave?” He always did go formal when the shit was about to hit the fan.

  I sighed. Loudly. “Just go, Samson. He can't kill me, he'd only be killing himself.” Handy that little proviso of the joining. If one dies, the other dies too.

  “That is not entirely reassuring, mistress.” But he left quietly anyway.

  I walked further into the gym and sat down on one of the benches, turning to look at Michel.

  My heart did a flip-flop. Damn that wayward heart. How could he still take my breath away? He was gorgeous, even when angry, even when flashes of indigo and violet speckled the deep blue of his eyes. Dressed in an off black made-to-measure expensive suit, pale blue tie, gold dancing dragon cuff links at his wrists. His cream coloured skin looking almost translucent under the lights of the room. His chiselled face, striking.

  With his hands thrust deep in his pockets, the broadness of his shoulders stood out. I wanted to run to him. To wrap my arms around him and beg him to take me back. I straightened my shoulders and took another fortifying breath in and lifted my gaze to meet his. He had an eyebrow raised, obviously waiting for me to finish my perusal of his body. He always knew instinctively how he made me feel.

  “Are you running away, ma douce?”

  “You don't want me here, Michel. You've made that perfectly clear.”

  “When? When did I make that perfectly clear? Please tell me.”

  His voice was quiet, so smooth, so beautiful. I suddenly realised he was using it on me. Calming me, wrapping it around me, stroking it down my arms. He doesn't usually have that kind of sway over me anymore. Since we joined, he can only use his vampire powers on me if my shields are down. I checked them now and found them in shatters. Some still holding, others crumbling. A total mess. I was normally so much better at keeping them maintained than this. Shit. I really was a lost cause.

  I hesitated, before I started rebuilding them, I didn't want his touch to stop. In the end, pride won over sentiment and the shields went up, his power no longer surrounding me, touching me. I felt so bare.

  He smiled sadly at me. “You do not normally make such a mistake, ma douce.”

  No, I didn't. He'd done this to me. Making me fall for him, then when I finally capitulated, admitted I loved him above all else, he cast me aside. I was a wreck, a mess. I needed to get away from him before I collapsed in a puddle at his feet and begged him to take me in his arms.

  “It's just a holiday, Michel. I wanted to catch up with Amisi. I haven't visited since she left. You said I could use the jet at any time. Are you taking that back too?”

  He cringed slightly, then recovered himself, replacing the emotion with his normal mask. The one that said nothing. Nothing at all.

  “By all means take the jet, but I need it the day after tomorrow. I have a flight scheduled to Paris. Business I must attend. I'll be gone one week. So make sure you are back by then so we can... commune with one another. It may be some time before we can reinforce the joining after I leave.”

  He spun on his heel, after delivering those instructions and disappeared out the door.

  Paris. Business. There was only one thing in Paris that could require his attendance. The Iunctio.

  And he was facing them without me at his side.

  Michel. Just what are you playing at now?

  Chapter 3

  Friends

  By the time I had found Marcus and Matthias, my two vampire bodyguards, it was close to five in the evening. Still daylight out, but it would mean my arrival in Wellington would be close to dusk. Perfect. I could do with a little night time action in the capital. Of course, M & M tried to convince me to wait until sunset, so they could tag along too, but as they were a gift from Michel, I had little desire to bring them with me on my escape from Crapsville.

  Auckland was not much fun anymore, somehow it had lost all of its gloss, all of its shine, all of its intrigue. I still hunted, I still went through the motions of a busy, young woman in the city, but nothing felt alive anymore, nothing felt exciting or worthwhile. I hadn't even been to Sensations for over two weeks. I used to go there every evening, now I avoided it like the plague.

  It's no wonder, when Michel is there and he barely acknowledges my existence. I would have no idea what was happening in the line if it wasn't for Samson and to a certain extent, Marcus and Matthias keeping me abreast of the latest gossip. Michel used to confide practically everything in me, now we hardly talk.

  I wrapped a little Nosferatin Light around myself as I boarded Michel's jet, a Gulfstream G650 and banished all the thoughts that led to pain. I only had myself to blame, I had lowered my guard, I had let him all the way in. A vampire. I should have known better.

  It's not like I had a choice to join with him. He was the only option really, or die. I chose life, I chose him, but I shouldn't have given more than that. It's hard now to think of an eternity without him in my bed, right by my side, but as only the other half of a barely platonic joining. Together because we're stronger that way, not because we love each other.

  The trouble was, I hadn't stopped loving him yet and I wasn't sure if I would any time soon. I'm a pretty loyal person. Once I give my friendship, or in this case my heart, it's for life. Sometimes that has come back to bite me on the arse, but I deal with it when it does and I move on. I have absolutely no idea how to move on from this. None. I am lost, adrift, completely devoid of happiness. I'm not sure how to breathe anymore.

  And it hurts.

  It really hurts.

  I had phoned ahead for a rental car, so there was no delay when I landed and the jet taxied to Gregor's private hangar. I didn't bother to say hello to his lackeys, they'd no doubt pass on to Gregor that Michel's jet had made an unannounced landing in Wellington, but I think the Master of Wellington City and I are good enough friends for me to be able to pay a visit without phoning first.

  The car was a Toyota Corolla, I have a strict budget, but it drove well and before I knew it I was parking up on Lambton Quay in the city. Amisi has a small apartment in the same building as her boss. That would be Gregor. I have issues accepting handouts from Michel, Amisi has no such qualms with her business relationship with Gregor. The apartment is provided at a low rent and she just makes herself available to him whenever he calls. Sounds a bit medieval, but Amisi can hold her own with the creatures of the night. She was raised in a Nosferatin community that lived in harmony with a vampire line.

  She knows vampires and their habits better than any Nosferatin I know alive today.

  I slipped into the elevator, suddenly a little fearful that Amisi would be out. I hadn't even phoned her to say I was on my way. I hadn't be
en to her apartment before, but I knew what number it was, so before long I was standing outside her door and knocking. I could hear music playing on the other side of the door, The Beatles. Amisi's catching up on pop culture, she missed a lot during her strict upbringing in Cairo.

  The door swung open and there stood my best friend. My Nosferatin sister. Amisi is younger than me, twenty, but you'd think she was fifty years older, she just has a graceful ancient knowledge that makes you think she's been around a lot longer than her youthful looks would attest to. She's tall, almost six feet, with long straight brown hair and the most beautiful almond shaped chocolate brown eyes, high cheek bones and full pink lips. She's gorgeous, there's no two ways about it, but her beauty is far greater than skin deep.

  She has a wonderful soul.

  “Luce! What a choice surprise!” She is also making it her goal to pick up as much Kiwi slang as she possibly can. Sometimes she gets it ever so slightly wrong.

  “Hey, you! Fancy some company tonight?”

  “Absolutely! Although I do have to work later, but you can just sit at the bar and watch.” She motioned for me to enter. “Welcome to my humble home.”

  I stepped past her into a delightfully colourful main room. It reminded me immediately of her home in Cairo. Lots of colour, lots of cushions on the floor, lots of bright light and happiness. So Amisi. So Nero. So Egyptian. I loved it and couldn't stop the smile on my face growing bigger, the further I ventured into the apartment.

  “Wow, Amisi! This is fantastic. It's so you.”

  “I know, Gregor teases, he says I should be branching out and trying different decoration styles now that I am away from Egypt, but he can talk. Have you seen all that French antique furniture in his penthouse? You can take the man out of Paris, but you can't take Paris out of the man.” She said Paris like Gregor did, with a French lilt to the words, making it sing.