Forbidden Drink (8 page)

“You're late, Nosferatin. That will cost you dearly.”

Oh great, Erika was one of
those
task masters then. Just flippin' great.

“
Kind of got held up by the master. You know how he is....” I let that trail off, it also provided a few more knowing chuckles around the room. Maybe I could at least dazzle them with my wit. It was my usual fall back when uncomfortable.

Erika just looked me up and down, taking in my tight fitting yoga pants and tight fitting T-Shirt. I really thought she'd have little to complain about, you could definitely see my muscles move in this outfit, so I had to force myself not to bite when she finished assessing my outfit and said, “Take the top off, leave the pants, but I need to see your arms, your abdomen, your back. I can't with the T-Shirt on.” Her tone brokered no argument, it was a command, one I think she had used on others she had trained in the past. I was getting the feeling that Erika was a warrior first and foremost, a well trained, highly experienced and highly ranked warrior. I would not show fear.

I had a sports bra on underneath, that covered me quite adequately, so much to the surprise of several vamps nearby I just did what she asked, without complaint. They all knew me better. Had Michel demanded, I would have thrown a hissy fit. Erika just smiled and it wasn't a knowing smile, just a
you go girl
smile. We may have been still sizing each other up, but I think Erika might just have had a little respect for me already, like I did her.

I came and knelt down next to her on the mat, mirroring her stance.

“We will use
bokken
when we spar each other, but for starters I want you to practice the Weapon Dance, so as we won't be sparring off against each other, the real deal will do.”

“Weapon Dance?” It sounded something like a performance, not too hands on at all. That I could handle.

“We are using traditional Swedish style swords, but a combination of Swedish fighting methods and Japanese kendo moves. When practised repeatedly, your body begins to memorise the muscles needed, the motions required, to carry out the actions of brandishing a sword. Eventually, they will become second nature, you will not even have to think of the action itself when fighting, just follow your muscles' memories to combat your enemy.”

OK, so pretend moves repeated. How bad could it be?

I will never ask that question again in my entire long eternal life. Erika had me practising the same moves over and over and over again for more than four hours straight. She barely let me take a breather to rehydrate, only allowing a marathon runner swig from a bottle between one set move and the next. My muscles ached, still not having been
healed
by Michel since yesterday, my limbs were fatigued, my head pounded and still she kept shouting, “Again!”

Most of the vampires had given up after an hour or so, some of the more staunch supporters - or sadists, I'm not sure which - stuck around a lot longer. Shane Smith offering me sips from water bottles every now and then, bless him. And Bruno playing poker with Jett and a couple of others quietly in the corner. Occasionally slipping a glance my way. I guessed he was there on Michel's orders, making sure Erika toed the line.

When I thought I couldn't possibly last another second she called a halt to the proceeding and took away the sword. Re-sheathing it while I stood shaking and swaying on the mat. I was so relieved I could almost have cried. Finally I could go take a soak in the bath.

I went to walk off the mat and she growled. Vampire growl.

“Not yet, Lucinda.” I almost went to say, you can call me Luce, but I am so, so glad I held my tongue, because this woman did not deserve to call me by my nick name. “Now, we spar.”

Oh fuck!

“I don't think I have it in me, Erika.” I couldn't deny it any longer, I could almost feel myself sinking into sleep.

She grinned menacingly. “You giving up on me, Nosferatin?”

I didn't want to agree with her, but I was knackered, and that's KNACKERED in capital letters. But just then, out to the side of the room, in a gap left by the recently deserting vampires, a flicker of light started and then within seconds the form of my
other
trainer, - the Nosferatin one - Nero, appeared. Nero can Dream Walk, that's how he trains me from all the way over in Cairo where he lives.

He took a slow look around the room, taking in the training arena, the few vamps sitting wearily in the corner and the sight of my sweat soaked, slowly swaying self on the centre of the mat and smiled.

Nero's gorgeous. He's my trainer and I have a completely professional relationship with him, but I still can't help noticing his thick short black hair, the fine lines on his chiselled face, his deep golden brown skin flashing from beneath his cream coloured linen top, his well-toned muscles under his rolled up sleeves and long, lithe physique. But best of all, Nero's eyes shine like a vampires, with coffee coloured swirls and cinnamon flecks in a deep brown well of sheer brilliance. He's the only other human, well half human-half Nosferatin, who has eyes like a vampire. It could be to do with the fact that he is as old as Michel. Immortality must have its perks after 500 years or so.

He didn't say a word, just took a seat and crossed his legs at his ankles, put his hands behind his head - the usual Nero comfortable sitting position - and inclined his head. So, here's the thing. I could quite possibly have let Erika get the better of me and caved due to fatigue, but with Nero now watching. Not a bloody chance.

I rolled my shoulders and shook out my limbs, limbering up as best I could.

“All right, Blondie, bring it on!”

I think she was momentarily surprised. I think she really thought she had me, but she recovered quickly enough and went and got what I guessed were the
bokken;
two wooden swords in the same shape as the Svante replicas we had been using for the Weapon Dance and when I hefted one, about the same weight too. I did a few of the practice moves and was surprised at how realistic it felt. So similar, but not quite as deadly. I'm sure though, that a well placed whack from one of these wooden ones would still smart. Here's hoping I could avoid that.

Of course, I wasn't as smooth as Erika and I was quite sure she was holding back, letting me get the feel of sword on sword, but I kind of held my own. The dance moves she had instilled in me over the past four hours had actually sunk in. Possibly not to the point of intrinsic movements, but, with a focused determination, I could pull them off when needed. Changing my way of thought from repetitive movements, to utilising the strokes I had practised on the fly. Choosing the best action to counter whatever move Erika made.

She started out making a move and instructing me at the same time on what Weapon Dance action was needed to counter it, but within twenty minutes, she had stopped directing and just let me get on with it. Somehow, I was a natural. I have never picked up a sword before in my life, this was my first training session with a blade or
bokken
, but it felt like I had done this for years, decades even. I was a bit jerky to start with and the aches were distracting, but I found my groove, I sunk into the rhythm and I began to move with more and more grace. Our combined speed increased with each minute that passed and I vaguely realised that more and more vampires were returning to the room to watch.

I couldn't better her, there was no chance of that right now, but I knew, just knew, with practice that was not going to always be the case. I'm not sure if this new found skill with a blade was a natural balance, sporting confidence or hard fought from fitness. Or if it was just because of genetics, my Nosferatin fighting skills, blending with those of the traditional Nosferatu. I could tell Erika was surprised, but she was also holding back and when the room was back to capacity, she'd had enough of entertaining me. Quite frankly, I'm amazed she lasted that long. Vampires don't like being shown up. They are natural predators, they crave confrontation and they are always ready to fight.

She started landing the odd whack of the wooden blade against my side and when that didn't deter me or slow me, she began to jab me with its point. I, on the other hand, hadn't landed a single blow, just managed to stave off most of the attacks, holding my own and no doubt looking good for the part, but not actually closing the deal. The more whacks Erika got in, the more determined she was to make me beg for release, to beg to stop the spectacle it was becoming.

I noticed Nero now standing at the edge of the mat, I could tell he wasn't happy. I've fought a lot with Nero, side by side against the bad guys of the night and together sparring like I was right now with Erika. And I can tell a lot by the way he holds himself. His arms were now crossed over his chest, his legs spread shoulder length apart, his gaze intense and following every move Erika made. He was sizing her up, looking for a weakness and not impressed she was pushing me to this level. Not impressed at all, that she was using the opportunity to beat me to a pulp.

For me, there was no going back. I had committed to this to the end. I was not going to show fear. I was not going to give an inch. I would fight this to the bitter conclusion, which I was becoming more and more aware, was going to be me unconscious on the mat.

Finally, Nero must have had enough, because I caught the glint of his silver stake as it appeared in his hand and watched out of the corner of my eyes as he stepped onto the mat.

“No,” I breathed out between clenched teeth. “Stand down.”

Erika cocked her head. “Stand down? Why would I do that, Nosferatin, when I am winning?” Of course, she couldn't see Nero Dream Walking, she had no idea who I was talking to. I just shook my head and kept focusing on warding off her blows. Nero had heard though and reluctantly nodded his head and stepped back off the mat. This was my battle, he would let me fight it how I saw fit.

He did however make sure I could see him from where I was battling across the mat and he raised an eyebrow and mouthed, “Spin.”

I had been battling this like a vampire, using strength and speed, agility and endurance as my only weapons. I had not even considered calling on my Nosferatin powers to aid in the battle, it had somehow felt like cheating. But now I realised that that was not the case. Erika had been a swordsman for centuries, I'd had five or six hours training, there was no way I could win a battle against her with that limited amount of experience, so what was I doing? Holding my own, just, but content to let her wear me down until she won and I capitulated in a heap of jelly-like mess on the floor? I don't think so. I never enter a fight unless I intend on winning. What would be the point of that?

It took me several more minutes to centre myself sufficiently to attempt the move, in the meantime Erika had managed a few more choice bruises to my shins - and fuck doesn't that hurt? - and back. And Michel had decided to join the show. He did not look impressed at all. I have no idea if that was because I was failing miserably and I didn't have time to consider the ramifications of that thought just then, because I'd found my zone. Erika came at me with an overhead swing, which I anticipated might have been her killing, or at least knocking unconscious, move and I spun.

I danced up in my Nosferatin spin away from her
bokken
, away from the bruising glance of her strike, around the back of her and landed with the sword at her neck, coming in from an angle, showing the intent was clear: a decapitation with one blow.

“Bang, bang, you're dead.” Wrong weapon, but hell I was spent.

A round of raucous applause and hoots and cries of
Well done, Luce! Knew you could do it!
Yeah right, on that last one. And Erika dropped her sword in defeat.

I slowly sunk to my knees in utter exhaustion and glanced up at Nero to mouth, “Thank you”. He smiled, nodded his head and flickered out of sight. My hero, come to add support and guidance even when I didn't realise I needed him. Nero and I are connected, not like Michel and I, or even Gregor and I, Nero is my Nosferatin Herald. He is part of the Prophesy I am also part of. I am the
Sanguis Vitam Cupitor
, the first key to the Prophesy and he is the one to unlock it, pulling all the relevant parts together to complete its task. So far, I'm the only one to appear, we're still waiting on the rest of them, but in the meantime, he comes when I call, even if I don't realise I've called.

“Well, you took your time, Lucinda.” Erika said turning to look at me. She was breathless and covered in as much sweat as me, but she was smiling. “I wondered when you'd realise you had more in your arsenal than just guts.”

Bugger me! Even Erika had expected me to use my Nosferatin skills. I was still trying to catch my breath, so it took a couple of efforts before I could counter her statement.

“I was trying to go easy on you.”

She laughed and stepped forward to hold out her hand. I took it and we shook. Hers firm and commanding, but not so firm she was trying to make a point. She leaned in and said, “You are amazing, you know?” Then winked.

Michel stepped onto the mat then and came to stand next to me.

“Well, if you have finished completely exhausting my Nosferatin, I will now try and make her recovered enough for your trip in a few hours.” His voice was not at all pleasant. I don't think he liked how far Erika had taken this training session.

She just straightened her shoulders and raised her chin towards him. “She is not as fragile or delicate as you suspect, Michel. She is more than capable of holding her own.”

I appreciated the vote of confidence, really I did, but right now I couldn't move a muscle and Michel kind of had a point. Still, Erika, the evil task master that she undoubtedly is, and I, were going to get along quite fine. Quite fine indeed. Somehow, I just knew, she had my back. And in that moment I knew also, that I had hers. I looked up at her and smiled, it was all I was capable of, but it was enough to let her know I'd heard her defence of me and I liked it.

Michel's fists, however, were clenched and I'm betting there was a fair amount of magenta in his eyes, although I couldn't turn my head enough to see right then. His voice when he did speak again was all icy chill. “You will remember your place, vampyre, or I will teach you it.”

The atmosphere in the room had shifted in that instant. The vampires watching almost pulling in on themselves, trying to vanish from sight, to not get noticed by their now reeking
Sanguis Vitam
master. Michel, unfortunately, had a bit of Dark in him too and when threatened or pushed to the limit, it crept out of whatever corner it usually hid in and started to play. My job as his kindred, was to temper that Dark, to call him back to the Light, but I also knew shows of power, strength and dominance were all part of the political game of a master of a line. Most ruled by fear and strength alone, Michel had also earned respect, but he was still a vampire and would always revert to one when angry.

I was guessing, right now, his anger was because of the state I was in. Regardless of whether I sometimes wondered if Michel cared for me, loved me even, moments like this made me realise if nothing else, I was precious to him, important enough to him, to get so riled up over such a stupid event. I was tired and a little bruised, sure, but I was generally OK. But, part of me also acknowledged that I was a tool in his arsenal and his concern could also have been for the damage of a valuable asset. I sighed. I couldn't very well make a move publicly in front of his vampires, I don't think he'd listen to thoughts projected to him right now either - sometimes even he is too far gone - but what I could do was send him my emotions.

So, I concentrated on what I felt and it was a combination of exhaustion, but the type of exhaustion you get after a really good, really hard workout and pride at what I had achieved in such a short amount of training time. And elation at having succeeded to land the end blow and gratefulness to Erika for letting me do it under truly just circumstances, for not holding any punches, for making me work for it - something a vampire could understand. And then I sent it out towards him with my love and appreciation for his standing up for me, for his caring enough for me - for whatever reason, be it true affection or political gain - to confront his kin with such strength on my behalf.

He turned slowly towards me, looked down at where I sat, still crumpled on the floor and looked at me with such amazement on his face, such utter respect and understanding. And for a brief moment there, I saw love; unadulterated love for me. And it stilled my heart.

He suddenly came to his knees at my side and reached up to cup my face in his, looking at the surprise that must have graced my features. His fingers running along my jaw, his eyes taking in every part of me, a thumb stroking my cheek.

“You still do not accept what I feel for you,
ma douce
. You do not believe it possible. Look at me and tell me I do not love you.”

I couldn't believe he was saying this in front of his line. I felt a little uncomfortable, but the vampires had all, including Erika, gone still; that preternatural calm they do, sinking into themselves, no breathing, no blinking, no heartbeat. I'm sure they continue to be very aware of their surroundings, but they were offering up what privacy they could, given the circumstances.