Dancing Dragon (26 page)

Finally, I admitted defeat and just made myself stand there and listen to the sounds of lives disappearing down the gullet of a vamp. My hand had naturally taken my stake out from my jacket, unbeknownst to me. I was fingering it, like it was a lifeline, centring myself from the whirlwind of emotions that were threatening to take me away.

It wasn't long, I knew it wouldn't be. That's why I hadn't reconsidered a different location  before he was through. It was a mere few seconds, less than a minute, but it felt like a lifetime. Well, at least four. I could sense the humans now, or at least smell their differing smells. Human bodies, as they die, don't smell nice. They lose their signature scents, more basic, perfunctory smells take over. Even though death by vampire can be horrific, messy and utter carnage, Alastair was swift and clean, precise and immaculate. He didn't waste blood in spillage, but despite that clean and swift death, there are other smells.

The body sweats as the adrenaline pumps in reaction to their imminent death. Major organs fail, before the heart eventually and unavoidably gives in. The bladder, the bowl, even the stomach can regurgitate. All manner of base smells indicating death.

I could smell them all and I didn't deny them access to my brain. I acknowledged each and every one of those scents. Noted them, filed them, accepted them. Four more humans dead and I hadn't done a thing to save them.

Alastair shifted below us on the ground and Avery's attention finally left me. But I knew instantly when he had disappeared. Like before, there one minute, gone the next. His Dark signature just vanished from under the awning. Gone.

I didn't say anything. I could sense he had gone from here, I was betting Avery could too. We just stood there in silence for a while. I wouldn't have called it companionable. Or awkward. Just reflective, I suppose.

“Well,” Avery finally said into the thick night air. “Talk of your skills has been greatly exaggerated.”

Don't push me, Plucker.

“No defence? Bad day? That time of the month? Fight with the boyfriend?”

I ignored his barbs and turned towards the door on top of the roof. I'd made it three paces when he swung me back towards him with a firm grip on my upper arm. I could feel his nails digging into my flesh, but I would not show him it hurt.

“Michel may let you operate below par, but I will not. I do not take kindly to being led on a wild goose chase.”

I bristled at that, more anger seeping in. “Fuck you!" I spat. "This wasn't a wild goose chase. I brought you to him. How was I to know there'd be something obstructing our view?”

“Do you think I even care for whatever pathetic excuse you dream up?" Avery said in a barely contained growl. "This is not a hobby club, this is real life. If you are unable to deliver the amulet, then you are of little use to me. I will only suffer fools once, Ms. Monk, you've had your turn. Now, perform or get the fuck out of my way.”

He released my arm abruptly and then simply flew up into the dark sky and disappeared. I was numb with shock, not from the flying routine, I've seen that enough times not to build a sweat, but the way he had talked to me. I don't think I had ever met a more arrogant man before in my life and that's saying something. I live surrounded by vampires, arrogance is their middle name. But Avery, took the cake on the arrogance front. He took it, ate it and licked the plate clean.

I stood there for a while longer, the smells of the dead humans still wafting up into the night air, surrounding me, bemoaning me, condemning me. The fact that I wasn't intending on actually coming to their rescue on this occasion was irrelevant. I had wanted to, but couldn't because we needed reconnaissance, intel', a plan of attack based on more information than we already had. But now, their deaths were in vain.

Now, we would have to try all over again, to assess the enemy, to identify and confirm. I would have to lead Avery to Alastair again tomorrow night and if I fucked up, he would make sure I knew it. Not that I would need reminding, but still, no one likes their failures to be flashed in their face. Avery had every intention of humiliating me and then some, I was sure.

But more than that, what really ate at my heart and mind right now, was the thought that four more humans would die tomorrow, because I had failed tonight. Could I stand by and let that happen a second night in a row? Could I dishonour Nut and Nosferatins worldwide, by simply watching from afar?

I let out a frustrated scream that floated away on the still night air.

Fuck Avery and his demanding arrogance. Fuck Alastair, the murdering piece of shit.

And fuck me, for being responsible for the deaths of four more humans this night.

Fuck. Me.

I found myself on the doorstep of a church. I don't know why. Churches are for Christians. I'm a Christian, or at least I was. My aunt used to take me to the Anglican church in Cambridge, a big old white building on the corner of the main thoroughfare. Lovely old style English eaves, stained glass windows and a well tended garden surrounding a peaceful shining beacon of faith.

Nowadays, I don't attend regularly. What's the point when I tend to pray to Nut more than Jesus or God. Maybe God does exist, maybe he's up there next to Nut, for the Norms, for the regular humans. But I'm not regular. I'm a Nosferatin and therefore Nut is my goddess now.

But old habits die hard and here I was sitting on the cold concrete steps of a big sandstone building, with commanding arches and huge stained glass windows. The door was locked, being after dark, I wasn't surprised, but just being near it was enough. I leaned my back against the double oak doors and sucked in a deep breath.

Returning to Michel's London based home was not an option right now. I couldn't face him, to see the disappointment on his face. To feel the humiliation Avery had already witnessed, taunted, provoked. I just couldn't. But more so, because I wasn't sure I could lie to him either and get away with it. It would be expected that I try again tomorrow and lead Avery to Alastair and again I would be expected to not intervene, but watch from afar as he killed four more humans.

I couldn't. I knew it. I couldn't stand by for a second time and not try to save the innocent lives he consumed so recklessly, so easily. I just couldn't, but Michel would argue, his points would sound so reasonable, make so much sense and I would be forced to concede, to agree to his terms, his plan. But I can't. So, I would have to lie and right now I lacked any ability to maintain a façade at all.

I sat there on those bitterly cold stone steps, because I lacked the courage to face my kindred and stand up for what I believed was right. I sat there because I knew I couldn't hide my emotions from him, because I knew he'd read me like a book and right now my page was open on the chapter that read: She places a stake through the Dark vampire's heart and saves the humans' lives.

But I am not stupid. I have learnt a thing or two and when Antonio and Ricardo appeared on the pathway before me, I just sighed. I needed all the help and protection I could get. Being alone in London was not a wise move right now. The reason behind Citysider's absence still puzzled my mind and sent a warning through my bones. And then there was Alastair and Lutin. I hadn't been able to get the better of them yet and I didn't think I'd be doing it alone any time soon.

I got up stiffly from my cold position on the steps and stretched my body, easing out the dull ache that had taken up residence with the cold. I walked down towards my shadow guards, my hands in my jacket pockets, fingering my stakes. Not that I wanted to stake them, but that familiar cool metal helped soothe my mind and soul.

When I stood before their passive faces, I said, "I need to walk. Can we just walk for a bit?"

They both nodded in unison, a small smattering of relief shining in their eyes. They had thought I'd refuse their protection. Well, in a past life I might have, I could hardly blame them their response.

I had no idea where I would go to, but I was determined to bypass Michel's. After several minutes I found myself walking through an almost deserted Hyde Park, my shadows hidden seamlessly with the night. The air was crisp and cool, the sounds of London in the middle of the night, a drone of ambient noise. I was getting used to it, but it still was louder than Auckland had ever been. More people, more lights, more noise. How was the city surviving without Citysider? Why had I not had another pull other than those to Alastair?

My mind kept skipping from one thing to the next. Citysider. Alastair. Lutin. Avery. So much turmoil in my mind and I didn't have a solution to any of the problems they presented. I said a little prayer to Nut asking for guidance, but received nothing in reply.

Then, before I even realised it, I found myself on the doorstep to Samson's home. My feet, or Nut, had brought me here. I was relieved, the cold had started to seep in and I needed to see my vampire. Hopefully, he would back me on the whole having to kill Alastair plan. Unlike Michel and Avery, surely Samson would see it my way?

I turned to find my shadows, they bled out from the dark edges of the street to meet my gaze. Antonio saluted, Ricardo nodded, and then they disappeared. It was a little freaky, but I knew they hadn't truly gone, just hidden; watching, protecting. I'd come a long way from when I first entered this night time scene, having to rely on vampires as guards was not something I would have condoned. But now? Yeah, life has changed all right.

The door was unlocked, so I let myself in, the sound of deep, masculine voices greeted me as I closed the door at my back. They were coming from Samson's front room. I recognised Samson's, but the other male with him was not familiar. I walked in, pasting a smile on my face to hide my disappointment that Samson was not alone. I had really hoped for a cuddle and compassion. Having a vampire in my line had its benefits, but tonight luck, clearly, wasn't on my side.

"Hey, Luce!" Samson greeted me with a wide smile. His cheeks were rosy, his brown eyes glistened in the low lights of the room, he had a tumbler of clear liquid in his hands. "Come meet a friend of mine," he said, waving a hand at the other vampire in the room.

He was well dressed in a finely tailored grey pinstripe suit, maroon silk tie and silver coloured shirt. A long, black woollen trench coat lay draped over the arm of the sofa he sat at, it would have been floor length when worn. His matching Italian-made shoes shined as though they were polished within an inch of their life. Gold rings adorned his fingers and I was guessing, matched a chain at his neck - he just had that kind of look. He had slightly darker skin, which was obvious, even in the dim parlour room lights and his dark hair came to his chin, loose and straight, parted in the middle of his forehead, curved slightly outwards at the tips of the strands.

His eyes when he looked up at me were black. No colour I could ascertain, but that may have been the lack of light in the room, I couldn't be sure, but when I glanced at his face, determined not to look directly in those perturbing colourless eyes, his smile was welcome and friendly. His stance indicating the same level of ease and relaxation his facial expression displayed. I turned my attention back to Samson, but smiled politely in reply to the vampire's silent greeting.

"This is Viktor Davydov," Samson said. "Boris, the former Master of London City's brother."

I had never met Boris, so couldn't tell if this vampire resembled his sibling in any way. But Samson had said he had worked for the former Master of the City, so it fitted that he would know this stranger, even though he had never mentioned him before.

Viktor Davydov smiled again, looked at me for a suspended moment, then spoke in a slightly accented - Russian I'd guess - and deeply smooth voice.

“Lucinda Monk, I presume.”

It wasn't a question, so I didn't answer, but just took the offered chair Samson indicated off to the side of the room. I noticed Viktor was also drinking a clear liquid and as Samson stood to go to the drinks cabinet, it became obvious what that was. Vodka. I was guessing Russian and a gift from this new vampire.

"Care for a drink, mistress?" Samson asked, already pouring a generous amount into a fresh glass.

I'd had a shit of night, I had hoped when I arrived here, that Samson could offer some support. Viktor being present hadn't counted in my plans, but as he was and there was nothing I could do about it - and I certainly couldn't talk to Samson about what had happened tonight now - the vodka sounded like a good idea. I nodded and accepted the drink Samson had just poured. He returned to the cabinet and topped up both his and Viktor's drinks. The bottle was half empty. Viktor had been here for a while.

"We were just catching up on old times," Viktor offered casually, taking a sip of his newly filled glass. "It has been a while since I returned to London, I had not realised Samson had moved home."

Not only moved home, but become Lighter, lost his blood bond to his Master and now came under the
Lux Lucis Tribuo's
line. I didn't think for a minute that Viktor wasn't aware of all of this. I wondered what he thought of that and if he had been
friendly
with Samson's former Master. I took a sip of my drink in preparation for the imagined onslaught ahead. The vodka went down smoothly and I immediately followed the first sip with another. I could get used to top shelf Russian liquor.

"It is a relief to see he is out from under Rosemonde's control," Viktor said in that smooth Russian accent, almost a lullaby in and of itself.

"Anyone would be pleased to be out from under her," Samson added. Samson never mentioned his former Master. In fact, this was the first time I realised he was a she. I noticed how relaxed he was around Viktor, the fact that he had replied to Viktor's statement about Rosemonde was proof enough of that. If he had trouble mentioning his former life in front of me, he must indeed be comfortable with this vampire to entertain the direction of the conversation now. I relaxed into my seat and took another sip of my drink.

"I hear she has gone to Asia," Viktor was saying. "Decided to try her hand at controlling a city there."

"I wasn't aware," Samson replied, sipping his drink between words. "She could fall off the face of the Earth, for all I care." His words were a little bitter, but Viktor only laughed in response to his tone. It was a deep, but charming laugh, I couldn't help smiling at the way it made his whole body shake. This was a man who found delight in many things and didn't mind showing it.

"I think half the Nosferatu would agree with you there, Samson. She always did have too high an opinion of herself. I do hope she meets a worthy Nosferatin in Singapore, to bring her down a peg or two."

I perked up at the name of the city she had chosen to inhabit. I had spoken to the Nosferatin in Singapore on Nero's website. Islander was quite capable from all accounts. I took another sip of my drink, enjoying the story unfolding, fascinated in learning something more of the vampire who came under my line.

"Do you fear she will seek retribution?" Viktor asked, turning his glass in hand as it rested on his crossed knee. He was nervous asking the question, unsure how Samson would reply. I wondered if he was in fact, nervous for Samson should this Rosemonde seek revenge for the break in blood bond between them. Viktor rose in my estimation of him, just then.

Samson took a large gulp of his drink before answering. "To be honest, Rosemonde and I never truly got along. I think she found my resistance to her plans frustrating. She had more sycophants surrounding her than a fourteenth century King. My loss would not have been felt keenly. In fact, I am sure she was relieved."

Viktor relaxed at his words, confirming he had been concerned for Samson's safety. "That is good," he said quietly, studying the reflection of the lights in his drink. "I, however, would not be as forgiving, should one of mine be taken without consent."

I shivered at his words, although spoken softly and directed at his glass and not at me, I knew those words were indeed for my ears. It had been me, after all, who had stolen Samson from Rosemonde. But this vampire had nothing to fear. I thought I'd join the conversation and prove that to him now.

"Viktor," his head shot up to mine, I focused on the dimple in his chin. I was fairly sure he wouldn't glaze me, but old habits die hard. "This vodka is from your home? It's exceptionally pleasant." I took another drink and he smiled, a warm smile that lit up his face and finally allowed a colour to seep into his eyes.
A liquid charcoal with speckles of slate grey, washed over the black, but soon disappeared. I felt momentarily relieved that he had a colour in there at all, straight black is unnerving, I don't know why, but it just is.

"I shall be sure to have more delivered, Lucinda, it would be my pleasure to know you are enjoying one of my brews."

"You made this?" I asked, genuinely impressed. It hadn't been a label I recognised, but it was a very fine drop. I'm a
Bacardi
girl, but I was thinking I might have just found my new drink of choice.

"Yes, it is from one of several distilleries I own, but by far and away my favourite."

"I think it shall be mine also," I declared and received a blinding smile in return.

The conversation turned to more pleasant things, Viktor's home in St. Petersburg. The beauty of the city and architecture. The Neva River which ran through the city's borders, the Gulf of Finland, of which it is at the head and the Baltic Sea. He talked of the buildings and parks, the Hermitage and history. He insisted we should visit, that our welcome would be assured. He made the city sound alluring, magical in its appearance and intriguing in its past. I was sure he'd had a hand in much of St. Petersburg's bygone times. I thought perhaps, he had enjoyed the battles fought on its soil in particular.

Samson had refilled my glass once already and when I came to the end of the second, I was tempted to have another. My limit had always been two, but the company was charming, interesting and intelligent. I enjoyed Viktor's stories and Samson seemed relaxed and at ease with the vampire's presence in his home. I decided a third drink would be acceptable in present company. Besides, Alastair had fed already tonight, and if the past few nights were any indication, he would be the only one to cause the pull. I don't know why, but other than Alastair, all the rogue vampires in London were behaving themselves right now - thankfully. The rest of my evening could be enjoyed, I didn't need to fear combating a vampire again tonight.