Dancing Dragon

by Nicola Claire

  After two hours of his undivided attention I brought myself back to reality and ushered him to his office. He was the Master of the City, I had monopolised his time long enough. He didn't fight me on it, so he'd probably been dealing with some of his business telepathically with his line. I appreciated the fact that he had spent so long in my company. His time was precious and he had given more than enough to prove he cared.

  Before he left me, he cast a glance at Amisi, still surrounded by throngs of attentive male customers and pursed his lips.

  “I think it time our Amisi takes a break for the night. In fact, she can have the rest of the evening off. It's not often the Lux Lucis Tribuo visits our city after all.”

  He leaned down and lifted my hand to his lips, brushing a light caress across the back.

  “Enjoy your stay, ma petite chasseuse. You are always welcome in my city.” And then he was gone, in a flash of preternatural speed, so fast that even the Norms nearby wouldn't have realised what they had witnessed.

  I glanced up as Amisi came out from behind the bar, two vampires escorting her across the dance floor, pushing would-be suitors out of their path and depositing her at my table, They melted into the shadows, but I could still feel them nearby. They oozed Sanguis Vitam.

  I lifted my eyebrow at Amisi and finished the last of my second drink for the night. Two more full ones appeared within a second, in front of us both.

  “I have the rest of the night off apparently," Amisi said through gritted teeth, "and my instructions are to stay by your side and not entertain any gentlemen. His excuse: you don't need the distraction right now, your kindred awaits your return with much impatience.” She did not sound happy at all. I couldn't blame her. Gregor was walking a very thin line.

  I let a huff of breath out in an indignant laugh, hoping she would take the sound as solidarity with her anger at Gregor, but I forgot Amisi's new talent for empathy. It brokered no misinterpretation. I was indignant at Gregor's comment of Michel waiting impatiently for my return and she knew it.

  She took a sip of her drink and levelled her beautiful almond shaped eyes at me, flashes of bronze hinted in the chocolate depths. I blinked. Only Nero had ever had that sort of ability, his eyes reflecting his emotions like a vampire. I had put it down to his vast age, over 500 years old. Normally Nosferatins like me have more human-like eyes, just bright and big and deep of colour, but no tonal changes and flashes of light. Maybe, it had been more to do with his lineage, than age. Maybe Amisi, being part of his Nosferatin community, shared something of Nero's blood. I had never considered that before.

  “Are you going to tell me what Michel has done? Or do I have to guess?”

  I didn't say anything, suddenly my mouth was very dry.

  “OK. I'll guess.” Ah crap. Give it a rest Amisi. “He is punishing you for something, maybe a hunt gone bad. You got hurt, he got angry. Now it's escalated into a power play for dominance, neither of you giving purchase to the other.”

  I just stared blankly ahead. Never show fear. Never give an inch. Always stay on guard.

  “No. All right then, how about this? He's jealous, you've had some unwanted attention from a male, probably vampire and he's spat the dummy. Tightened the apron strings and not letting you out of his sight.”

  Jeez, when did Amisi learn all of these colloquial sayings? Still, I didn't move, not even a blink. Just held my breath. She'd never guess, but part of me hoped she would, it would be easier than saying it aloud. My kindred no longer wants me, he's cast me aside. Oh damn and there's the ache in my heart again.

  Amisi blanched. Her voice whisper quiet. “He hasn't... he hasn't been unfaithful has he?” She asked tentatively, pain etched on her delicate face.

  I shook my head once. I couldn't be sure what he was doing right now, there could have been another he was seeing, how would I know, but the thought alone was enough to make me deny it. The shaking of my head more a movement to clear the image her words had created in my mind, than an outright denial of his unfaithfulness.

  “No,” she said, still quiet, still laced with pain. “It's more than that.” Oh and now the ache was a stabbing pain, cleaving my heart in two.

  She straightened her shoulders and held my gaze. I saw resolution there, determination, empathy, but a whole lot of whoop-ass. Amisi was a fighter, she knew I was too. My current state was not something she would tolerate lightly, no matter how shattered she knew me to be. She would expect me to fight to the bitter end. I just didn't have it in me anymore.

  “I'm not going to guess anymore, Lucinda.” Thank fuck for that. “I think we both know what's going on.” Huh? “Do you trust me?”

  I slowly nodded, unsure exactly where she was heading with this.

  “I know vampires, I have lived my entire life amongst them. They don't think like we do.” She laughed delicately at her understatement. “They don't act like we do either. But, it's pretty easy to break them down, if you know what makes them tick. Whatever Michel is doing right now it's hurting you.” She held her hand up to placate me when she must have seen the cringe that graced my face. “I know words are inadequate for what you are feeling, I feel them too. Remember?” Yeah, empathy, her new gift. “Let me ask you this; is he yours, Lucinda?”

  I stared at her for a moment, what was she asking? She was asking, not as a human, not as a Norm. A human relationship is not based on possession, but a vampiric one is. Michel was mine the moment I saw him, but I didn't claim him until I marked him with my Sigillum. Yes, he was mine now, no one else's. I nodded.

  “Good.” She seemed satisfied with my answer. “This is what you do. Don't make him jealous, vampires don't respond well to ultimatums, but go back to Auckland, to Sensations and take what is yours. He is yours, Lucinda, remind him of that. Publicly, strongly, make a statement, dress to impress and do it in front of his line. If what he is doing is what I think it is, his line will be waiting for you to respond to the challenge.”

  “The challenge?” The words were out before I could stop them. Michel's behaviour was not a challenge, it was a rejection.

  Quietly, softly, she asked, “How long since he has slept in the same room as you?”

  The world closed in to just us. She'd guessed, she hadn't voiced it, she didn't need to, like she said, we both knew what the problem was.

  “Three weeks.” My voice was small, broken. She cringed, then reschooled her features.

  “OK.” She took a deep breath in. “You're a bit late in replying to the challenge, but that could be put down to your independent nature. No one makes you do anything until you are well and truly ready. The line would have thought it unusual, but not necessarily a lost cause just yet, but you must act immediately. Another week and it could be too late.”

  “What do you mean too late?” It was already too late as far as I was concerned.

  “If you do not answer the challenge of his... rejection, then it will be assumed you no longer consider him yours. That would mean, although still his kindred Nosferatin, you would not be his mate, or wife and your position in the line would falter. Also,” - it gets worse? - “he would then be free game for any suitor willing to claim him as their own. He may love you dearly, Lucinda, which I have no doubt he does, but without your claim, he will stray. It is in their nature. If he means anything to you, other than just your kindred Nosferatu, then don't let that happen. Once it does, reversing it can sometimes be damn near impossible. Everything in the world of vampyre is based on illusion and presentation. What they perceive is fact.”

  She took a break to sip her drink and catch her breath and then she looked hard at me. Somehow I knew the actual lecture hadn't happened just yet, she was just warming up.

  “I know this will be hard for you, you hate emotional confrontation, but I'm telling you now, Nosferatin, this is more important than your pride, more important than your queasy stomach, your ragged nerves. Look to your heart, find the courage you need and do this.”

  “He's flying out to Par
is the day after tomorrow.” I don't know why I said that, I wasn't considering this crazy-arsed idea of hers, was I?

  She flicked a glance at her watch and then stiffened slightly. I studied her, puzzled, then Gregor appeared at her shoulder.

  “You rang, ma ange de lumière?” he whispered in her ear.

  What the...?

  “Can I borrow your car?” she asked, flashing him a dazzling smile and a flick of her eyelids.

  Gregor's lips quirked. “You do not need to seduce me, angel, I am already yours.” Amisi's face brushed red. “Of course take the car.” He placed the keys in her palm, lingering there for a moment, then lifted his gaze to mine. His eyes were burnishing platinum as he held Amisi's hand. “Give my regards to your kindred, little Hunter.” He smiled broadly then, a hint of mischief flooding his eyes. “Remind him well.” And then with a light kiss of his lips to Amisi's forehead he was gone. Again.

  Bugger. He'd figured it out too. Was I that readable?

  “You can throw thoughts at each other?” I asked her, trying to get myself back on a level footing.

  “No. But he can hear my thoughts if I shout them. It's fun, yelling at him in my head.”

  I couldn't help laughing at that. Gregor had always been able to hear my thoughts as well, when loud in my mind, or if I threw them. I can throw my thoughts at Michel, because of our Bond, maybe because I could do that, I could throw them at Gregor, who obviously had a talent for picking up thoughts. But Amisi wasn't Bonded, so couldn't throw thoughts. But yelling them, yeah, I could picture her doing that.

  She stood up, leaving most of her drink untouched and I followed her out the side door towards Gregor's car. The two vampire goon shadows peeling away from the dark and slinking along in our wake.

  “He's given you guards?” I asked, a little surprised.

  I mean I have guards, but that's because of the Iunctio's fervent desire to see me dead and because, as the Prohibitum Bibere, I had a lot of unwanted visitors, most of which I could handle, but it never paid to be over confident. Marcus and Matthias were my backup. They tended to stay in the background and only did what I asked of them. It was a concession I was happy to make for Michel at the time. Now, I would love more than anything, for him to show his over protective vampire side.

  “So he thinks,” Amisi answered, opening the car with a push of a button on the key pad she held.

  We slid in and she started the vehicle down the side alley to the club. The vampires bleeding into the shadows and no doubt just happy to follow on foot. Vampires could go at incredible speeds if necessary, these guys would keep up. But, we weren't going far. We pulled in to Gregor's apartment complex and I turned to look at Amisi.

  “You needed the car to drive here?”

  “No. We're stopping here to get you dressed and grab your bag, and then I'm driving you to the airport to catch your flight back to Auckland. I'll organise your rental car's return, but I want to drive you there, OK? I think we'll have you back at Sensations before it closes at four, easily. You're facing him tonight, Luce. I won't argue with you on this.”

  “You're chucking me out? You won't let me stay for even one night? Some friend,” I muttered in reply.

  She just ignored me and led the way to the elevator humming a tune.

  “Strip,” she ordered as we entered the apartment and dashed into the bedroom.

  I bristled, but there was no fighting Amisi when she was in this mood and began stripping to my underwear. Luckily it was lacy and matched, not too embarrassing, even if Amisi is my best friend, no one wants to stand exposed in faded and worn knickers.

  She came out holding a strip of deep blue fabric draped over her arm and took in my underwear.

  “The knickers will do, but take the bra off.”

  I just stared at her and she sighed, opening up the fabric and displaying the most gorgeous dress in her hands. It shimmered and shined in the lights of the apartment, showing off a deep cowl neckline and absolutely no back. The draping fabric obviously pooling at the base of the spine in a puddle of material. No bra. She hadn't been joking.

  “I'm not as tall as you, Amisi, this will swamp me,” I said, removing my bra and letting her pull the material over my head and settle it in place.

  “This dress is designed to come to my mid shin, a Marilyn Monroe knock off, except hers had been cream, so on you, it'll reach your ankles.” She was right, it did and everywhere else it fitted like a glove.

  There were no long slits on the side, it was all wads of glorious fabric, designed to flow with the wearer, entice the admirer, but not give too much away. Exactly what Michel would adore. The colour couldn't have been more perfect either, it matched the colour of his eyes, a deep, deep blue like the ocean, bottomless. I turned in front of her mirror and admired the effect of the dress swaying in my wake. It was mesmerizing. Dresses had no right to look so damn good.

  “How much did it cost?” I asked, fingering the soft, silky fabric at my sides.

  Amisi adjusted the cowl neckline, exposing way too much flesh and then went around the back to do the same. “I have no idea, Gregor bought it for me. I have never worn it. Nor the fifteen other dresses he has gifted me and are hanging in my closest.”

  That's my girl, never give an inch.

  She curled my hair and applied a smattering of make-up briefly then stood back to survey her work. All of this had taken no more than fifteen minutes. Amisi could work fast.

  “Where's your dancing dragon necklace?” she asked, cocking her head at me.

  Michel had given me my dancing dragon necklace, it's beautiful, on a long platinum chain. It has a blue diamond as an eye and white diamonds slicing a lightning bolt across its heart. It's Michel's family crest, with my Light through his heart. It was a precious gift, one I didn't wear much anymore, but I always carried it on me. Fool that I was, I couldn't let it go.

  I pulled it out of my discarded jacket pocket and numbly handed it to Amisi. She didn't say anything, just took it from my hands and then clasped it about my neck. Turning me around slowly to face the mirror and see how utterly perfect the dragon looked against my skin, complementing the colour and shape of the dress.

  “There. You're ready. Go claim back what is yours, sister.”

  If only it were that easy.

  Chapter 5

  Remember Me?

  I spent the entire flight back from Wellington spinning my wedding band around my finger. Michel and I weren't married, not in the human or Norm sense. We'd never visited a Registrar's Office, of exchange vows in front of a Minister, there was no paper to proclaim we were man and wife. No, we were just joined, Bonded and shared Sigillum, to vampires we were kindred, mates and husband and wife. There was no denying it, that's how they perceived it to be.

  Michel, however, had insisted on me wearing a wedding band, so the humans - and in particular my parents - would know we were together, married. It was a plain white gold band, but covering the entire internal circumference was Michel's blue diamonds, hidden from prying eyes. It was his way of reminding me that what we shared was between us, personal, sacred, ours. No one else's. Time to put that theory to practice.

  The plane taxied to a stop at Michel's hangar. I glanced at the clock on the wall of the cabin, just after 2am. Still early in vampire terms. It seemed like this night was going to last forever. I'd arrived in Wellington right on dusk, spent several hours with friends and then somehow made it home to Auckland with hours to spare. Enough time to get the deed done or make an utter fool of myself.

  I slowly walked down the stairs after the co-pilot had opened the door and was met by the grinning faces of my own personal shadows.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked with a sigh, already guessing where this was going.

  Matthias held up his cellphone and waggled it at me between his fingers. “Amisi,” he offered, nothing else.

  Great. She was mothering me now. Super. But if they were here, then Michel knew I was back. No chance of sneaking
up on him unawares then.

  I stiffened my shoulders and walked across to my waiting car, all shiny and sleek black. Another gift from Michel, this one I would never give back.

  “Well you can follow, I'm not fitting you two in the back of my BMW.”

  “We've got a Land Rover, we'll shadow you in.”

  I stopped before I slid into the open door of my car. “In?”

  “You're going to Sensations, aren't you? Showing the boss who's boss.” This from Marcus, a devious grin spreading across his broad face.

  Both vampires looked like line-backers, big broad shoulders, muscles everywhere and fiercely hard eyes. Matthias was dark and brooding, Marcus blonde and cunning. Both though, handsome, in that vampire way, but laced with unbridled energy, danger screamed whenever they were near. But, they were loyal to Michel and as such, in theory, loyal to me. I didn't need to fear them. Well, as long as I didn't intend on harming Michel, that is.

  “Did Amisi tell you that?” I'd kill her, I really would.

  “Nah,” Marcus answered and then ran his eyes over my outfit slowly, returning them to look me in the face. “You're dressed to impress and wearing his dragon. You either have a death wish by looking as hot as you do while courting someone else, or more likely, you've finally woken up to the fact that Michel needs a stake up his arse and you're going to do something about it. About fucking time.”

  Matthias sighed, a pained sound. He was most definitely the more diplomatic of the two.

  “What he means, Luce,” - he flashed fang at Marcus and then turned a smile to me - “is we are glad our mistress has returned and will support you in any manner you choose fit.”

  What was he saying? They'd back me over Michel? Not bloody likely.

  He must have seen the look of disbelief on my face, because he added, “We've been waiting for you to... put some sense back into the master. He's needed you and we will assist you in whichever way you require in order to reach him.”

  He was serious, no joking, no teasing and by the look on Marcus's face, they both felt the same way. Things had not been good in the inner circles of the Durand family line and I had been too busy nursing my broken heart to notice. If I had felt the weight of the task on my shoulders before, I sure as hell felt it now. This was more important than mending a rift between me and Michel, this may well be essential to the survival of the line. If Michel was compromised in any way, challenges would arise.