Blood Life Seeker (24 page)

Read Blood Life Seeker Online

Authors: Nicola Claire

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban

BOOK: Blood Life Seeker
11.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Hmm. Late night caller, human and at my door. Well, I'm not too scared of humans any more, I can kind of hold my own, but the hour of the visit was strange. Then again, maybe his car had broken down and mine was the only light on in the building and he needed to borrow a phone. Then again, we're in Auckland and petrol stations abound and who the hell doesn't have a cell phone any more?

Ah hell. I opened the door, but kept it on the little dinky chain. Anyone could probably rush it and snap the thing, but it would give me time to draw a knife.

“Yes?” My voice was even, non threatening, calm.

“Hello. I'm sorry to call so late, I've been waiting for you to come home. I hadn't realised it would be in the middle of the night, but I'm here now so I thought I'd just knock. I've been waiting so long to meet you, I simply couldn't wait any longer.”

I looked at him through the gap in the door. He was slightly taller than me, maybe 5'8” high. He had dark brown, short, thick hair, matching dark brown eyes and a tan over well toned muscular arms and no doubt the rest of him. But he was wearing loose fitting jeans and a loose fitting T-Shirt, so I could only make out his bare arms, not the rest. He seemed harmless, in a casual sort of way, and was kind of good looking. But why was he here?

“Um. Who are you?” I asked.

“Oh sorry, sorry. I got so excited to finally meet you, I haven't even introduced myself, have I? I'm Tim, um, Timothy Baxter.”

Baxter. That was my father's name.

“You're my cousin, aren't you?”

He nodded vigorously. “Yeah, we're cousins. Your father was my uncle.”

“Do you carry the gene?” The Nosferatin Gene.

“No. My father is your father's younger brother. The third born is free of the gene.”

Yeah, that's right. The first born is the Nosferatin, or vampire hunter. That would be my older uncle, whom I have never met or know anything about. The second born carries the gene and passes it on. That's my father and I'm the Nosferatin he passed the gene on to. Had my parents had another child after me, that child would have been the carrier of the gene. The third born, or any others after that, are free from the curse/gift.

“But you know all about it?” I guessed.

He nodded again, more slowly this time. “I know it's late, but can I come in?”

“It's not just late, Tim, it's damn near morning and I've got to work tomorrow and I've kind of had a shit of a day.”

He looked like he might cry, he seemed really young in that moment. Ah shit.

“How about we meet for lunch tomorrow? You hanging around for a bit?”

“Yes, yes. I came to meet you. I'd really like to meet for lunch.”

His head was bobbing up and down like one of those toy dogs on the back seat of a car.

“OK, I work at the BNZ on Queen Street, meet me there at 12.30, I'll take you to lunch.”

“OK, OK, that's great, thank you, Lucinda, I'll meet you then.”

His face beamed at me as he waved goodbye and turned to run back down the drive towards the street. For someone who had scared Pete into telling me to be careful, he seemed pretty damn near harmless, if not a little mouse.

Just what was Timothy really?

I guess I'd find out soon enough.

Chapter 25
Heartache

I didn't think I'd ever fall asleep, but around 3am I somehow managed to, knowing I'd be getting up again in little over four hours time. It felt like I had only just drifted off when the dream coalesced around me. My parents' farm. Before it even finished fully forming I was turning to scan the surroundings.

“You may as well show yourself, Michel, I know this is your doing.”

“Was it the location or the dress,
ma douce
?” He walked out of the nearby trees, sauntering in his lovely black outfit, hands in pockets, beguiling smile on lips.

I glanced down at what I was wearing; a long softly flowing apricot coloured dress, low neckline, full skirt, with bare feet. I wasn't sure apricot was my colour, but Michel had a tendency to pick colours well. This choice was either for my benefit, I love orange and in any shade, or I actually could get away with wearing it.

“Nice, but the location did it,” I replied.

“I shall have to branch out a bit more in future then.”

“Why are you here, you know I said don't push?”

“You said a lot of things,
ma douce
and then you ran.”

I sighed. “So, this is your answer, trap me?”

He spread his hands out in a semi shrug, semi signal of peace.

“You can leave any time you wish,” he answered.

I turned away from him and took in the view. The lambs were always only a week or two old in my dreams. I'm sure Michel knew they would grow bigger before actual slaughter, but he never let them get to that point here. He somehow knew how much I loved them at this age; tail still long, waggling their last few times before docking.

He came to stand beside me, but didn't look at the view, his eyes were all for me. I let him stare, he called this dream, I'd let him have his moment. I think he needed it and truthfully, I was feeling guilty.

“Are you angry with me?” My voice was soft. I had actually started looking at the ground just in front of me, as though I was starting to pull myself in tight. I forced my chin up and gazed again at the the distant lambs.

“No, not at all. You were right. I did plan for you to be in my bed, not just by my side, but I will not apologise for it,
ma douce
. I wanted you like I have never wanted another. I still do.” His voice was like velvet, it coated me in ways I didn't think his power ever could. I felt tears sting my eyes and my breath catch in my throat.

“You're making this hard.” My voice did hitch a bit there, but I no longer cared. He could see what he was doing to me already.

“I am glad, it should be hard. It should not be easy to walk away from someone you love.”

I turned to look at him then and that was definitely a mistake. I had to force myself not to go to him. I'd always had trouble here, in my dreams. He had always seemed so much more to me, his call to me stronger, his effect on me so much deeper.

He was only a couple of feet away, but I felt myself swaying towards him. He didn't move in response, just watched me with steady eyes of deep blue and indigo swirls.

“How do I know that it's real?” It was a plea, no two ways about it. And I guess, that it's also the crux of it all right there. I could be pulled to him, drawn to him, want him as much as I liked, but was it real?

He sighed and closed his eyes. “Only you can answer that,
ma douce
. Only you.”

I shook my head and felt the tears fall.
No. I didn't want to feel this confusion, I wanted it back how it was. I wanted him, I wanted to love him and I wanted him to love me back.

“Is that not your answer,
ma belle
?” His eyes were open again and looking at me, I just kept shaking my head.


I can't do this right right now, I just can't. Too much has happened, too much
is
happening. I just can't do this Michel. Please. Leave. Just leave.” I think I did sob the last out. It wasn't too audible, but I think he got the message. He looked pained, sad, desperate even. I sobbed a little harder at that.

Finally he nodded. “As you wish,
ma douce
.” And vanished, the dream disappeared and I woke up in bed crying and couldn't stop.

I bawled, for I don't know how long, but eventually there were no more tears, just sounds. And after even longer they went away, to be replaced with a numbness so complete I think I truly felt I no longer existed at all.

Facing work was a challenge and a relief. I stumbled out of bed, showered and grabbed a coffee to go. Walking briskly to the branch, sipping fortifying caffeine and stomping away my worries. The morning was slower than usual, which didn't help. My mind playing over last night, from what Gregor had told me when I was still tied to that chair, to the battle they fought, to the proposition on the couch at St Helier's, to the dream. Bouncing around from one to the next, to the next, to the next. My concentration was shot, my customers frustrated, my boss a little annoyed and my co-workers perplexed. I was normally much more orderly and in control than this, they all knew something was wrong.

I didn't get into trouble, but my boss did hover. She even asked if I was all right, but what could I say?
No, the vampire head honcho wants me dead, two vampires are fighting over my affections and I don't know which one to choose and my heart is breaking into a million pieces.
Somehow I didn't think that would help my cause. At around noon I received a call, luckily my boss was out the back and I didn't have any customers, because it was personal and today just wasn't a take-a-personal-call kind of day.

“Hey, Lucinda, it's Jerome, sorry to get you at work, but we need to talk.”

Ah shit, I thought at least this could sit on the back burner for a little longer. He heard my sigh.

“Is it a bad time?”

“Would it matter?” A bit rude, I know and Jerome didn't really deserve it, but I was stretched pretty thin right now, so I didn't apologise.

“I wish it would, you know that, but we need to talk.”

I glanced around the branch, everyone was occupied. I grabbed some slips out of my drawer and pretended to be checking them whilst holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder.

“All right, Jerome, what's up?”

“Rick has made a challenge for Hapū leader.”

I dropped the phone and it took me a couple of seconds to get it back up to my ear. The deposit slips disregarded for now.

“What does that mean, Jerome?”

“It means he will fight me for the position and only one of us will remain alive to take it.” So matter of fact, so unemotional.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. This could not be happening. Not now, not when my life was so much a fucked up mess, not the Taniwhas, not them too. I was panting, I didn't think I had any tears left to shed, but I was in a panic, like I had never been in before in my life. This just seemed to be the last thing my mind could handle, the last straw, so they say. I felt the world tilt slightly and then slid down the drawers behind my counter, out of sight of the customers, but garnering a concerned look from one of my colleagues just off to the side.

“Lucinda. You still there?”

“Ah huh.” I couldn't manage any more.

“I'm sorry if I've scared you,” he went on in his low, gruff voice. “But you have to know. I can't refuse his challenge and even though I'm quite sure I could win, I won't kill him. He's like a son to me, so I guess, what I'm saying is, I'm going to let him win and when he does, Lucinda, you need to be prepared. He has it in his head that we should be fighting for the night, taking it back from the vamps. He plans to make it the Hapū's sole focus and he sees you as standing in his way.”

Oh dear God.

“When?” My voice was barely a whisper.

“Two week's time. Friday night after next; the
Rākaunui
. All challenges must be met on the night of the Full Moon.”

“Is there no way to stop this?”

“No.” And that one word was weighted with so much pain, so much heartache, so much fear and pride and love and strength. So much Taniwha, I couldn't breathe.

“I'm sorry, Lucinda, I tried to talk to him, to make him see sense. I have failed our alliance, I have dishonoured our treaty. I beg your forgiveness.”

I started crying then. Who knew I had more tears in me? “No, Jerome, you have nothing to apologise for, this isn't your fault. There has to be something we can do, something I can do. I'll go to him, I'll make him see.”

“No! You mustn't. He will kill you, Lucinda. Please promise me, you'll stay away. On the
Rākaunui
too. Once the Hapū witnesses the fight, they will not be able to stop the change. They would tear you apart. Just let this happen, there's nothing to be done for it now. Just tell your vamps and get prepared. Please.”

I was shaking my head. My supervisor; my boss, was crouching down next to me, trying to get my attention, trying to pat my shoulder. I couldn't stop the tears, I couldn't stop the pain. I couldn't stop Rick from making the biggest mistake of his life and killing his mentor, his idol, his kin.

“OK,” I whispered.


Kia kaha, Kaitiaki, kia kaha
.” He rang off with those words; Maori for
be strong
and
Kaitiaki,
the name he called my kind.

My boss bundled me up and pushed me towards the staff room. I couldn't tell her what was wrong. She offered to call someone for me, to come and get me and take me home, I was in no fit state to work. I shook my head. Who could she call? All the vampires in my life were tucked up in bed, all the Taniwhas were preparing for a leadership challenge and the humans, well parents, lived over two hours away by car. There was no one else.

As I was sitting there trying to get myself under control, one of my co-workers came in and said my cousin was waiting for me out the front. I'd forgotten all about Tim. My boss took this as a sign from on high, someone to care for me and it was family to boot. I didn't even get the chance to stop her, before she raced out and escorted him to the staff room. Great. My cousin, who I didn't even know, sees me in a tear streaked mess. Bloody great.

Tim just jumped in as though he'd known me all his life. Promising to take good care of me, telling them he'd drive me home, that I'd be all right. He put his arm around my shoulder, like he'd done it a thousand times before while we were growing up and he cuddled me out the door. For the life of me, I couldn't resist and he was family after all. He was silent on the short drive to my flat, he parked in a spare car park on the property and came round and opened my door, cuddling my shoulder again as he led me to my apartment. I managed to get my key in the door and he placed me on the sofa while he went and familiarised himself with the coffee machine. He had to get the instruction manual out, its got so many bells and whistles even a qualified barista would have had to read the instructions first.

Finally he sat next to me with a near perfect fluffy coffee, a little cinnamon scattered on top. My life began to settle on the first sip.

“Bad day, huh?” he said quietly, sipping his own coffee.

“Thanks for the lift home. For the coffee.” My voice was scratchy from too much crying. I really didn't think it would ever recover after the past 24 hours.

“No worries. That's what family is for.” He smiled broadly, I didn't smile back.

“We don't even know each other, Tim, we're hardly family.”

“But, we're blood, Lucinda. We come from the same ancestors. You may be the Nosferatin of our generation, but I have Nosferatin blood in me. I don't carry the gene, but what flows through my veins, can't be that different from yours.”

I cocked my head at him and tried to get a handle on this guy.

“Is that why you're here? You have a fantasy about what we are? Do you want to hunt vampires too?”

He laughed and it was a young boy laugh, all innocent and carefree. This guy had probably never even met a creature of the night.


Nah, but I'd like to know more about what we are, where we've come from. My parents keep pretty hush, hush about it all, actually. I only found out because of some hidden stuff in a box in our attic. I don't even think my father knows that it's there. I think it was my uncle's, you know
our
uncle's, Uncle Jeff. Our fathers' older brother, the Nosferatin.”

“What happened to him?” I think I knew the answer, but I wasn't really prepared to hear it.

“He died when he was 25.”

One month past his 25
th
birthday I was betting.

“Same age as me.”

Tim nodded and took another sip of his drink.

“Are you expecting me to die too, Tim?” I don't know why I asked that, gut instinct, I don't know, but I still couldn't get a handle on this boy, no, man. He was a man, just young and naïve.

He wouldn't look me in the eyes, just kept staring into his half empty coffee mug. Finally, he said in a quiet voice, “Will you?”

“Why do you think he died?”

Other books

Weavers of War by David B. Coe
Off Her Game by Suzan Butler
Winter Song by James Hanley
Sixty Acres and a Bride by Regina Jennings
The Penny Pony by Patricia Gilkerson