Forbidden Drink (17 page)

I passed him his coffee over the table and as I went to pull away he grabbed my wrist, not too hard, but firmly, so I couldn't move. I just looked down at his dark skin against my pale arm and struggled to think of something to say.

“Talk to me, my Kiwi.”

He released my hand slowly, when I didn't say anything straight away and I reached for my own coffee, then sat down next to him at the table, taking a fortifying sip.

“
I'm still a bit of a mess, Nero. You know, what we talked about in Cairo yesterday? Well, I've really fucked things up, one gigantic mistake after another. And so has Michel. But it's done now and we just have to live with it. My current solution is to avoid men altogether and that includes my
kindred
.”

He sat quietly for a while, sipping his coffee, watching me no doubt, but I couldn't be sure, I was looking at my hands in my lap.

“You are strong, Lucinda, you will get through this and you will do what is needed to survive, but consider this, your kindred is also a tool, something to give you power, to give you support. If you cannot be with him intimately and that is not always necessary as you are aware, then at least allow him some contact platonically. The longer you are both apart, the weaker you will become.”

I knew this, I had always known this. Nero and Nafrini, his kindred vampire, are like brother and sister, their relationship is not intimate in the slightest, but they maintain physical contact all the same. A brush of hands here, a touch there, all casual, all brief, nothing remotely sexual, but necessary in keeping their connection strong, their powers full.

But, Michel - I just wasn't sure I could have him that close and not get confused, or worse, cave in and make it intimate. It was too much to ask.

“What happens if I can't do that? What happens if we don't have that contact for some time?”

“You compromise yourselves, both of you, your strength, your power, your ability to focus, your Light. The joining is more than just a sharing of power, it allows both of you to balance the Light and the Dark within, without it one will prevail over the other.” He sighed when he saw the look of mortification and fear on my face. “Kiwi, you think by being separated from him you can do your task properly, fulfil your role in the Prophesy, but by
not
being near him, you weaken yourself to such a point that the Light may no longer be able to shine and then we have already lost.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up in spikes heading in all different directions. “I realise he is over protective, so some distance is necessary for you to be able to move freely when needed, if you are unable to come to a compromise, an understanding, that is. But, don't shut him out completely, you mustn't. Have that contact in neutral territory, or with whomever around you that you trust to keep you safe, but do not deny it. Ensure it continues, guard it as fiercely as you guard your independence.”

Well, didn't that just suck. Somehow the words
rock and hard place
sprang to mind.

We drank the rest of our coffee in silence.

“Amisi will be flying out tomorrow, she should be here your time Tuesday evening. I'll send the details of her flight through.”

Man, those Egyptians didn't muck around when they made their minds up, or maybe Nero knew how much I could do with a friend right now, either way, I'd have to let Michel know, I hadn't even run it past him yet. Shit.

“Text it for now, I haven't sorted out a new computer yet.”

“They smashed your computer?”

“They smashed everything apart from my stakes and my satellite phone, only because I hid those two.”

He nodded, as though that was exactly what he would have expected me to do. It was just lucky the chest fitted under my bed and the box the phone was in was at the back of my wardrobe. I hadn't planned on getting my flat trashed, so I was bloody lucky on those counts.

“How long can she stay?” I asked.

“We'll assess that after she has been here a week or two. She does require a new scene. She has only known Cairo and we already have three fully matured Nosferatin, it was always understood that she would have to move away. I just have trouble admitting she is old enough to do it.”

I smiled at him, he really did care for her like she was his own daughter or younger sister. It was nice to see this caring, selfless side of him, instead of the intense warrior that he so often portrayed.

“What about the shape shifters, are you worried about my current dangerous predicament?”

“I have discussed it with her and Nafrini and we all agree, this is something she would have to face elsewhere and maybe on her own, it is best she have you to help her and I will also visit when I can.”

I nodded and stood to remove the empty cups and rinse them in the sink.

“I am sorry if I have been harsh towards you, Kiwi.”

I spun to look at him and found he was standing right behind me, I hadn't even heard him move. As a Nosferatin I should have been able to, just because he's Dream Walking, doesn't mean he is invisible to me.

“What do you mean?”

He reached up and pushed a lock of my hair behind my ear, resting his hand against my cheek. “Forcing you to be near your kindred when you so obviously do not wish it.”

“I know it's for the good of the Prophesy. I understand.”

His eyes flashed cinnamon and gold, I hadn't seen the gold before, only coffee, cinnamon and copper. The gold was mesmerising.

“It is for the good of you, Lucinda. My only thoughts are for you.”

I didn't know what to say, I felt trapped under the weight of his stare, the intense shine to his eyes, the feel of his thumb stroking my cheek. And then just as quickly as he had touched me, he smiled sadly, kissed my forehead and flickered out of sight.

Why was it I felt like things were changing, like quicksand all around me, I was just along for the ride.

Loss of  friggin' control.

I had a quick shower and once dressed in hunter gear, tried to decide whether a phone call to Michel would suffice. Shit. Platonic contact and all that. The best solution was a trip to
Sensations
and a meeting in his crowded bar. It was the only solution, albeit one that made my stomach flip and butterflies take up residence in my belly.

The sun had set by the time I hit the road and headed into town. I had my stereo up as loud as my ears could take it and sang along to
Fergie's Big Girls Don't Cry
trying to bolster myself up with some musical therapy. Fifteen minutes later I pulled into the underground carpark at the club and after a fortifying deep breath in, went through the coded doors and straight towards the bar. Ignoring the corridors to either side; one towards the vampires quarters, the other to Michel's.

I couldn't spot Michel at his usual table, maybe it was too early and he was still in his office. There was no way I was going there, so I headed over to the bar and waited for Doug to finish serving his customer.

“Good to see you, Luce,” he said sliding me a
Bacardi and Coke
across the bar. “It's been quiet without you here.”

“I was gone one night Doug and it was a Saturday, I'm sure the regular crowd made up for it.”

“Not the same,” he said and turned toward another customer at the other end of the long bar. Nice to feel wanted, I supposed.

“
You are wanted,
ma douce
. You are always wanted.” I turned at the sound of his voice, it was instinct, a habit, I almost uttered a curse as soon as I looked at him. Irresistible, gorgeous, perfect. I clamped my mouth shut and booted my inner monologue the hell out of my head before I embarrassed myself further.

He just smiled, hands in pockets, all perfectly at ease. When I didn't say anything he stepped towards the chair beside me.

“May I?” he asked, indicating the seat.

I actually hated that he was being so formal, so careful, I hated the false sense of unfamiliarity, the distance it created. I hated myself for creating it. But I sucked it up, it was for the best. I had chosen this path.

“Sure,” I managed without giving my inner turmoil away.

He slid in next to me and Doug immediately placed a glass of red wine in front of him, before heading back to paying customers.

“I trust everything is to your liking at the house. You are comfortable? Do you need anything else?”

I sighed, this was just crap.

“Is something wrong?” He had heard the sigh, of course.

Yes. Hell yes. Abso-fucking-lutely yes.

“No. I'm fine, everything's fine.”

He took another sip of his drink and watched me, so still, so quiet. I felt nothing coming from him, no predator hunger, no male desire, not even curiosity, he was locked down tighter than Fort Knox.

“Amisi is coming to stay for a while. Kind of like a Nosferatin student exchange, except there'll be no student heading over there, just her, here, with me. So, a one way student exchange, not two.” Bugger, now I had verbal diarrhoea. “Um, is that OK, if she stays with me at the house?” Drink, alcohol, that will make it all so much better. I downed most of my glass in one hit.

“Nafrini has been in touch, I have extended our heartfelt welcome towards Amisi.” Of course Nafrini had been in touch. How silly of me, any excuse for Nafrini to phone Michel. Being old friends and all that.

“Good. Well, that was all I had to say.” I finished the last of my drink with a slight grimace, I don't even think that took sixty seconds. Not healthy.

“Are you in a hurry to rush off? Would you care to drink your next drink and actually savour it,
ma douce,
rather than inhale it?”

Ha. Ha. Very funny, but there really was no point in staying longer, just stand up, touch his hand or something briefly, get the contact thing out of the way and leave.

I sat still, unmoving. Doug slid another drink in front of me, I forced myself not to reach for it.

Michel sighed. “Come sit with me and have a meal, my dear. You have lost weight, you are fading away. I do worry you are not taking care of yourself. Let my chefs prepare something you will like. We need not talk, being close would do for contact to start with, we can worry about touch another time.”

I looked at him then. “Have you been reading my mind?” Or was he spying on me at his house, had he heard the conversation I had with Nero.

“You forget,
ma douce
, I know you well. You could have picked up a phone to ask me about Amisi's visit, but instead you have willingly entered the lion's den and with such courage, yet such fear. Doing what is right has always been your greatest character trait and your greatest downfall.”

He stood then and picked up both our drinks, heading to his favourite spot in the corner. It allowed him to watch the club floor, but not have anyone at his back. I dutifully followed, I really wanted that drink.

We sat opposite each other, but despite a fervent desire to
inhale
that
Bacardi and Coke
I made damn sure I didn't touch it. I decided one alcoholic drink would be my new standard, I did have to drive now. Before, when two was my limit, I relied on my own steam to get around. Now, with a six cylinder twin turbo 225 KW engine at my control, I thought a little reserve would go a long way. I drummed my fingers on the top of the table for a while and then couldn't stop myself.

“
I'm just going to go ask Doug for a
Coke
.” I started sliding out of the booth.

“
He is already bringing you one.” I glanced towards the bar and sure enough, Doug was coming over with a tall glass of
Coke
. He plopped it down in front of me and took the
Bacardi
away. Bless him. Bless him most dearly. I sipped the
Coke
.

You know how you're supposed to feel comfortable sitting with the one you love in silence, how there shouldn't be any awkward moments, long stretches of discomfort? Well, it's a lie. A big fat what-a-crock-of-shit lie. My legs were bouncing up and down, just small movements, nothing monumental, but it made my fingers drum restlessly on the table top and my heart start to pick up speed. Where was that dinner? Because, sure as eggs, Michel would have telepathically placed the order even before he suggested the meal. So, why was it taking an eternity to get here?

That's it. I'd had enough. I could eat at home, grab McD's on the way back. I know I have a full container of
Kapiti White Chocolate Raspberry Ice Cream
in the freezer at the house. That could prove the answer to all my prayers. I'd just placed my palm flat down on the table to make the statement that I was off, when Michel reached forward and covered it with his own. I stopped breathing and slowly looked up at his eyes.

“Don't run,” he whispered, his eyes deep pools of blue, pleading with me not to move, not to make the shift that would bring me to my feet and pull me from his grasp.

I slowly let the air I was holding out and he took his hand away, sitting back against the seat and just looked at me, his chest rising and falling slightly, just as breathless as I was. We stared at each other for a moment and then his chef arrived with a plate of roast lamb shanks in mint sauce, baby potatoes and carrots on the side. Simple, Kiwi fare and not what they normally serve in the club. I glanced up at the white-frocked guy, he was a human, they all are in the kitchen, can't blame the vampires for avoiding that job.

“
It's special order, just for you.” He smiled, nodded to Michel and walked away. I stared at the food and tried to blink the tears away.

“Why are you being so nice?” My voice was tiny, I couldn't help it. “Do you think it will change things?” OK, that was a bit stronger, a bit more like me.

“Not at all, you are too stubborn for that.” He paused, considering his words carefully. “I need to provide for you, Lucinda. I need to make you happy.” He sighed. “It is difficult for me to step back, but I am trying, please believe me. I am trying.”

"And I suppose it wouldn't hurt to smooth over your own mistakes?" I asked a little bitterly.

He stared at me, I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but he didn't say a word.

The smell of the lamb had permeated the space in front of me, I was tempted to push it away, but I was so damn hungry. I hadn't realised I'd been skipping so many meals and it was lamb. Lamb! I can't resist lamb.

“This is not consent of your actions, I'm just hungry,” I said, picking up my knife and fork and starting in on the meal.

“And it is lamb,” Michel added drily.

I just shot him a glare and then forgot about what we were discussing altogether as the succulent and delicious taste of mint, rosemary and lamb met my taste buds. I let a little moan out and then realised what I was doing.

Michel just laughed. “The chef will be pleased you like it,
ma douce
.”

I couldn't answer, my mouth was full with a second bite. Before I even realised, I'd polished off the entire meal. I hadn't felt this full in ages. Someone came and took the plate away, I just leaned back in my chair, tempted to loosen the button on my skirt, so my distended belly could relax too, but a girl's gotta have some pride. However,
Coke
just wasn't cutting it with lamb and without even thinking I reached over and took a sip of Michel's Merlot, to wash the lamb away. An easy slip, I'd often drunk from his glass, but now it just felt wrong.

“Oh God, I'm sorry. How rude of me.” I quickly pushed the glass back towards him. He probably didn't want it now though, considering it was full of my saliva, but he just kept his eyes on me and slowly lifted the glass to his lips, turning it in his fingers so the rim, where I had drunk from, was now facing him. He touched his lips to the exact same spot as mine, closed his eyes - I think he might have inhaled - and then tipped the drink back and finished it. When his eyes opened again they were aglow with indigo and amethyst swirls.

Okey dokey, not concerned about sharing glasses then. I had trouble pulling my gaze away from his though, but finally managed it when a plate of
Kapiti White Chocolate Raspberry Ice Cream
was placed in front of me. I glanced back up at Michel.

“
I may have cheated a little on that one,” he said with a wicked smile. “Your thoughts were rather loud, I don't think you realised you were projecting.” He shrugged his shoulders as if to say,
what else would I have done?

I just looked at him, now I was really confused. He was being so kind, so thoughtful. Was it because he wanted to make me feel forgiven? Was it because he couldn't help providing for me as he had suggested? Or was it because he wanted to wash away my anger at his
manipulation?

"Why are you being so nice?" I asked for the second time.

He cocked his head at me in puzzlement. "Because I love you."

I shook my head back at him. "Michel, I slept with someone else." I was going to add something to that, but the flash of magenta in his eyes and the look of pain that fluttered over his face made me pause. He may have been acting like he had forgiven me, but he was hurting all the same. I closed my eyes. Then shook my head again and took a deep breath in. He had forgiven me because he had made what happened possible. He felt responsible. "You set me up," I said as I opened my eyes to look at him.

"I... what?" Michel didn't usually have trouble forming sentences. I'd caught him off guard.

"You only let me go to Wellington so I would be faced with how easy it would be to make such a mistake. Like the mistake you made in Paris." He looked mortified, shocked. He was utterly speechless that I had figured it out. Of course, I'd had help; glazing Erika, Nero's guidance. "You should know, I understand," I went on. "I've accepted what happened in Paris." Well, sort of. "I even understand why you sent me to Wellington to fail. I don't like it." I shook my head and frowned at my hands clasped on my lap. "But, it didn't go the way you intended, did it?" I looked back up at him then. "I
did
fail, I didn't just come close and then realise how easy it would have been for you when you made the same mistake. I actually fucked up." I squared my shoulders and straightened my back, then looked him in the eyes. "So, I ask again, why are you being so nice?"

Michel had stopped breathing, blinking, but I was sure he had not stopped thinking. If I could have read his mind right then, I think it would have contained a few expletives. We sat like that, in silence, for several minutes, then he slowly began to relax. First his shoulders, then his back, then forehead, lips, eyes and lastly he began to breathe again.

"I owe you an apology." I hadn't expected that. "I forget how well you know me." He sighed. "When I am with you, it is not so Dark. I hurt you in Paris and even though I was fighting a spell, I knew you expected better of me." Had I? Yeah, I guess I had. Michel is the Master of Control. Add to that, the Master of Manipulation. But, I had expected more from him back then and I guess, I hadn't been hiding that fact.