Dancing Dragon

by Nicola Claire

  I could feel his Light all over my body, his breath against my skin, his tongue tracing wet trails across my flesh. Flashes of white were blinding my vision, shots of adrenaline were thundering through my system, shocks of electricity were sparking under my skin and the fire was raging out of control. I was out of control. Or at least my body was, it was no longer mine. I clung to that thought, tried to disassociate myself from what Lutin was making me feel. Concentrated on that inner monologue screaming to fight back. But there was no fighting back from this, Lutin was the master of the charm, it responded to him in the same fashion that it had responded to Michel. Except with Michel, my mind and heart had acquiesced, with Lutin it didn't need their consent.

  “Tell me,” he demanded softly, his teeth delicately scraping down my neck. “Say it.” He licked above my pulse, like a vampire homing in on my life force, bringing my blood to the surface, letting the fire heat it to boiling. All I could hear in my head was a whimper, even my inner monologue was about to give up the fight. “Now,” he said.

  “I want to be your elska,” I heard myself say from a distance, my legs turning to jelly, bile already up my throat and in my mouth. I was mortified at the words spoken, but the fire just continued to burn out of control.

  “That is better,” he whispered. “You are mine.”

  He pushed me back against the marble façade of a shop building. His body trapping me, his Light engulfing mine. Panic had morphed inside me, already burst apart within and the shrapnel it created just causing a numb kind of pain. My mind was a seething cesspit of emotions, my body was a cauldron of heat about to explode. I felt torn in two, the jagged edges sharp slices through my psyche, piercing pain accompanying every single emotion that raged within.

  "Play with me, elska. Share your Light, dance with mine. We could create such beauty, you and I. All it would take is our Light."

  My mind said defiantly, No! My body just craved release, Lutin's spell had me in its grasp and was not letting go. But despite those fervent desires; one to escape, the other to seek my own pleasure, the part of me that is all Light sang with unbridled joy at how close to Lutin's I was too. If I had been torn in two before, now I was simply fracturing apart. Multiple rips in the fabric of my soul. My mind screaming in defiance and fear. My body writhing in a need for release. My Light singing a song of bitter-sweet magic, called forth by someone other than me, completely out of my control. I did not want to meld my Light with his, but the call of his Light was too strong. Something had to give.

  I desperately searched for an answer. I tried to separate myself from the physical onslaught of Lutin's spell and continuing magic. I knew somewhere inside there was a part of me that is still all hunter, refusing to release my Light when so close to his. I sought it, I stalked it, I used every ounce of my strength to find it. Maybe it was Nut, looking out for me, protecting me. Maybe it was just my time for some luck, but I found it. I almost whimpered in sheer delight. I clung to that hunter side of me, that part of me that knew if I shared my Light with Lutin all would be lost. I almost relinquished all strength again at that very thought. The need, the fervent hunger for his Light cried out in alarm that I wasn't satisfying either of us. I forced myself to concentrate on my new found hunter side, on my inner monologue instead, it had never failed me before, and all it was saying now was to fight the spell.

  “Remove the spell,” I managed to murmur to Lutin, my voice raw with conflicting emotions.

  “Why would I do that? It was a gift. Do you not enjoy seeking gratification?”

  I frantically raided my mind for a viable answer. “I'll sleep as soon as I come.” I hoped that was the case. At least when Michel had helped me out back at Samson's and I had orgasmed, sleep had been unavoidable, as though it was part of the charm.

  Lutin growled against me, but it wasn't the same growl as before, this one had a different musical accompaniment, I was beginning to understand the tones. This growl was appreciation, mixed with a little frustration. He knew I was right. I wasn't sure what removing the spell would do in the present situation to help me, but the need to be free of his influence in some form was so deeply seated within me, it was helping me find the strength within to override his current control of my mind and fight the desire to meld my Light with his. I relished that fact and clung to it even as my hands continued to scrunch his shirt giving the impression I was after so much more than just his Light.

  He didn't do anything straight away. I knew he had desires that went well beyond sharing Light. Sure, sharing Light was at the top of that list, but whatever sharing Light actually meant, it meant more to him than just a melding of our core selves. I shuddered at that thought and swallowed back my fear, it tasted bitter. I did not want more, even if a part of me - against my will - wanted to have his Light.

  One second.

  Two.

  Three.

  An eternity.

  His growl grew louder, more musical, more divine, like a tuning fork it thrummed through me, the vibrations chasing the electrical impulses and fuelling the flames of the spell's fire.

  “The spell, Lutin,” I whimpered, adding for good measure, “One orgasm is not enough.”

  I had him, I knew it. He didn't want me to sleep so soon either. He wanted me to want more and my words had hit him hard. But they were just words. I was still fighting, still trying to claim ground, to get in a better position to escape, land a blow, end this. But it was as though there were two entirely different persons within me warring to gain control. The one: a girl desperate for personal relief, desperate for the Light inside this man in front of her to be combined with her own, even if against her mind's desire. And the other: a hunter, a fighter, who didn't relinquish control without a battle, without throwing the last of her soul into surviving at all costs. I was praying the hunter would win.

  “Tell me again, elska. How much do you want me?” I vaguely thought Lutin might just have confidence issues, but then quashed that with the knowledge he just wanted to preen under my words. To make me repeat it, to reinforce his control. I could play the game. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, I could see my escape.

  “I want you, right now and I... I want your Light to wash me, to bathe me, to smother me, until I can stand it no more. I want all of you, Lutin, now. Remove the spell.” Despite how close I felt I was to ending this, I was still so desperate, it came across in my voice, I only hoped he thought it was desperation to have all of him.

  The growl had turned to a chiming, an unusual combination of sounds that ricocheted off the walls around us and drummed into my body bringing me higher and higher and closer and closer to the spell's final crescendo. I whimpered against him, using all of my strength to deny my Light release, to remember exactly who and what I was. Sweat beaded my forehead, a raging headache had started behind my eyes, my stomach was in a knot of gnarled twisted tangles. I felt like a wreck, but I clung to that light at the end of the tunnel. To the possibility of my escape.

  I pictured Tewkesbury Abbey, the gravestone of my ancestor, the words written in a shining light. I am a Child of Nut, I am a Child of the Light. I told myself I would not sully that Light here and now with this creature. It was not his to command. It was given to me by divine right.

  “Lutin!” I cried, feeling a strength of conviction from the images in my head.

  He muttered some words in that strange language he uses, his Light weaving around me, while I still fought with all my strength to not release mine. Not to dance with his. Not to give in to a desire that could be so dangerous, even though it appeared, falsely, so beautiful, so right. The part of me no longer under my control defiantly whispered, what would be wrong with sharing Light? Another part, the hunter, the survivor, the warrior, screamed in anger and fear, that I would heed that seductive call, that I would give-in to this fairy, who was so obviously not human, who used magic to fulfil his desires. That I would not be strong enough to stand my ground.

  I am the Sanguis Vitam Cupi
tor, the Prohibitum Bibere and the Lux Lucis Tribuo. I do not cave that easily.

  I slumped against his body, cradled in his arms, as the last of the spell and his Light left me, leaving me feeling so naked and raw and bereft. I had been riding the thin edge of lust for so long, the fact that I had denied myself release just left me breathless and giddy. The resultant look must have been convincing, because Lutin sucked in a breath and let out a low groan.

  “Oh, elska,” he husked, his arms holding me still, his eyes taking all of me in, every emotion that flashed across my face as I tried to find equilibrium in his hold. “You are so beautiful.”

  I forced myself to look at him and sucked in a breath at what I saw. Hunger. Desire. Power. It was a mistake, his vivid green eyes trapped me, held me still in their gaze. When would I learn? How fucking stupid can I be? I had no idea of what was around us, it didn't matter, somehow I knew that both Lutin and I were in an altogether different place. Not physically, but psychologically we weren't on a paved street in Knightsbridge. We were simply in each other's arms, him about to satisfy a need so strong it overcame all reason and thought. I tensed, a small amount of clarity seeping into my brain. With it the fear that threatened to immobilise and the anger that pounded uselessly in my head.

  One minute I was breaking free from him, the next being drawn inextricably further in. I had to get away. I had to get away. I had to get away. I don't think I had ever felt as scared of an opponent as I did right then. Nor have I ever felt so alone.

  He continued to just look at me, but the hunger was escalating, the desire about to breach the edges of his control. I knew what would come next. I knew it, I feared it and the part of me that was trapped, just waited for it to arrive.

  “You are mine, elska. You will give me an heir.” His voice was rough and guttural, yet softly rasping with a longed for need.

  I felt his hand brush over my hot cheek - my heart stuttered to a complete stop - slide down the length of my over-sensitive body - I no longer dared to breathe - and then come to rest at the top of my skirt. This was it and I had nothing left to fight with. His fingers began to undo the top button - No! - his Light began to accumulate again - No! - and one beautiful swirl of apple green and chartreuse in his eyes and I was neck deep in trouble - again.

  Without the spell I had a measure of control over my body, but that call he created, to make me want to play with his Light, to meld mine with his, combined with the power of his eyes - a power I hadn't quite managed to determine - was turning the tables and time was running out. Panic engulfed me, familiar and so unwanted. My body threatened to shut down. I swallowed past the outright fear at that thought - what could happen if my body ceased to fight back - and struggled to stop myself reaching for him, releasing my already barely contained Light. Giving in.

  It was too late and I knew it. I was lost and he had won.

  Chapter 19

  Thunderbolts and Lightning

  Suddenly, I felt my butt hit the cold pavement beneath me and my breath leave me in a rush. Cold infused my body, an aching emptiness raced through my veins and the sounds of a battle broke through my subconscious mind.

  Then the harsh realisation of what had just about happened had me leaning over and emptying my stomach on the ground at my side.

  Fucking fairy. I hated him. I despised him. I was. So. Damn. Scared. Of him.

  I would fucking kill him.

  My silver knife was in my hand and I entered the brawl before me without a second thought.

  If I had wondered what powers a member of the Fey had before, I was under no illusion now. Light filled the small lane we were in, flashes of lightning shot down from above, rolling storm clouds covered the night sky and clashes of thunder deafened the air. A mini tornado twisted through the space, barely missing Michel, crashing into a shop window, shattering the glass and devouring the shop owner's wares inside.

  Rain began to pour, huge droplets of hissing water, splashing into ankle deep puddles that hadn't been there a second ago, drenching our clothes, blinding our vision and steaming and bubbling as lightning continued to barrage the lane, sizzling off pools of liquid electricity beneath our toes. The air was alive with the power of the weather, a force beyond any imagining I had ever seen before. I knew storms could be deadly, but this was on a whole other plane.

  Michel simply flew through the air to avoid the missiles, but unable to land a blow against a being that controlled the elements. It all happened so fast, from the moment I had got to my feet and had taken in the disastrous scene before me, until the earth shattering second Lutin's lightning pinned Michel to a wrought iron fence some distance down the road, like a butterfly in a display case, arms spread wide, body immobile, waiting for Lutin to end it all.

  Did the fairy know that if he killed Michel, he would be killing me? Would that knowledge save my kindred?

  I took a step forward to yell at Lutin, but was stopped in my tracks by the appearance of several more vampires, all dark shadows in the night, all meticulously avoiding the electrical puddles, dancing from one spot to the next, homing in on the fairy. Michel's security detail, coming to his aid. A little late boys, I thought numbly, side stepping a lightning bolt meant for a vamp who had jumped out of the way at the last second.

  Michel remained pinned in agony, as electricity rippled through his body holding him fast to the six foot fence. His skin began to glow, his muscles contorted, his face locked in a grimace of immeasurable pain, his hair a static wave of midnight strands crackling around his head. I didn't have time to soothe the ache in my chest, I didn't have time swallow the fear, I didn't have time to think, just act. Must get to Michel, must save my kindred.

  It was like pushing through a forcefield, or at least what I thought pushing through a forcefield would feel like. Sharp stabs of pain as the electrical impulses bombarded my skin, thick walls of invisible power, engulfing my body, stealing my breath, hammering into my head and chest and torso. I shielded with my arms as best I could and forged on through the near impenetrable wall before me. My only thought to reach Michel, to somehow pull him down off that fence, out of that electrical maelstrom of pain and torture. I had no thought of what touching him or the metal would do to me, just an undeniable urge to free him, to hold him, to touch him.

  Stay back, ma douce. His thoughts were stabbing knives in my skull. I don't know if that was because he was unable to shield his own suffering as he threw that thought to me, or if he was simply lashing out instinctively and unaware his thoughts were slicing into my skull.

  I fell to my knees and held my head tight, barely aware of the battle raging around me, the storm building above me, the lightning crackling in ever faster flashes, the thunder now a continuous roar, the rain bullets from the sky. I had to close my eyes for a moment, just to stop from fainting from the throb inside my head. I swallowed slowly, thickly, pushed against the wall of pain and managed to get a handle on the agony in my mind. I took a deep breath in and opened my eyes in time to see two vampires get fried by the lightning and burst into dust.

  There were puddles of greyish muck all over the road, not clear pools of water, but thick sludge ridden mounds of vampire residue, mixed with rain. How many of Michel's vampires had met the final death? Only four remained, I couldn't remember how many had turned up to rescue their master, but too many goopy puddles abounded for my liking. I flicked a glance at Michel, whose eyes had closed and who looked to be no longer breathing. He'd closed in on himself, in that preternatural place that vampires go to; to heal, to find peace, to escape.

  I'd seen it before, it was nothing new. Usually a short lived moment, but never longer than a few minutes. I watched as time slid painfully by, vampires fighting for their lives, no longer just their master's and a fairy prince coolly controlling the mayhem surrounding him. Orchestrating the moves, directing the show and from the look of dazzling light sparkling in his eyes and the mirthless grin on his lips, enjoying every second of it. And still Michel did not move, did
not breathe, did not fight back, did not escape his electrical trap.

  Lutin would kill every vampire here, including Michel. That would kill me too. I had always calmed myself with the knowledge that when Michel died, I would also. Neither of us would have to go on living without the other. I even convinced myself that we would meet up in Elysium, the afterlife, together. That our time on Earth was only part of what lay ahead for us both. We would always be together, him and I, and despite recent events, I never, ever wanted it to be any other way.

  If Lutin killed Michel, I would not have to face the world without my kindred. Without the man I loved. Truly loved. I realised in that instant that he was my world. To hell with vampire dominance, possessiveness and ridiculous punishment urges and anger control issues. Michel was mine.

  I felt this in the bottom of my soul, so much a part of who and what I am I could no longer distinguish between my love for Michel and my inherent desire to breathe, to hunt when the pull called, to live. They were not mutually exclusive. I may come to my senses and argue for freedom, for release from his control, but I would never stop loving this man. I would enter the fires of hell, I would destroy the world, I would make a deal with the devil, if it meant Michel lived.

  The four remaining vampires were holding their own, which meant they were avoiding the lightning, the electrically charged puddles of water and the mini tornadoes streaming through the space between us. I realised that none of those dangers were reaching me. I was still on my knees on the ground where I had fallen from Michel's pain-filled thoughts in my head, but somehow Lutin was protecting me from the fallout that engulfed everyone else. Even through a battle, he protected his elska, the mœðr who would provide him an heir.

  Bastard. He had no idea how important these vampires were to me. I fingered my silver knife, but Lutin was flashing so quickly from spot to spot, avoiding the vampires who doggedly continued to attack, albeit futilely, so landing a blade on a target with that sort of speed was impossible. But I had other means of taking an enemy out and make no mistake, Lutin was my enemy. If he hadn't truly have been before, he was now. He had attacked my kindred. This was now war.