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Authors: Nicola Claire

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

Giver of Light (19 page)

BOOK: Giver of Light
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It took me a second to register what he was doing, I was too wrapped up in the primal need he was displaying. The not so sensual, as explosive, desire he was pumping through my body, but finally his words reached me through the blissful haze he had created,
mine, mine, mine, mine
. They didn't surprise me, I'd certainly heard them enough times recently, but the
Sanguis Vitam
that accompanied them did. When you mark someone, it requires a little power of your own to send it home, but that's not all, the person being marked has to accept it as well. Gregor had tricked me into giving him my mark and into accepting his in return, I had no idea what I was doing or how personal and permanent that was. Michel has marked me twice and made no bones about the fact that he would continue to mark me many times over until I got the message that I was his. It sounds very Neanderthal, possessive to the extreme, but is also so very precious in the vampyre world. To be claimed as belonging to someone is a big deal, an honour, a privilege. It is not viewed as oppressive or controlling, the mark merely tells the world that you have accepted that person to be your advocate, your ambassador, your spouse.

I had decided after Gregor, that I would not share my mark with anyone ever again unless I really, truly meant it. It was permanent, it was personal and it was not given easily.

So, the fact that Michel was trying to mark me for the third time was kind of a surprise, but then again, not. He had warned me he would keep trying and if the position of where he had chosen to try to place this mark meant anything, he was trying to remove Gregor's completely from my skin. Normally, I would have denied Michel this right, he's marked me enough, he's proved his point adequately I think, but two things changed my mind right then.

One, I loved him, undeniably, unequivocally and although I wasn't sure
I
could mark
him
just yet and open myself up that far and let the world see how much he had me; mind, body, and soul, I did want him to know I was his and no one else's. And two, I so wanted Gregor's mark gone once and for all. I had no idea if it would work, but I lowered my shields and sent a bit of my power out to meet Michel's, hoping together they could eradicate Gregor's mark from my neck once and for all.

Michel's eyes already so brightly magenta flashed an even more vibrant colour, making the small hallway we were in dance in an amazing display of violets and purples and mauves. He kept drinking for a few moments longer, his power wrapped closely with mine, wending in and out around each other, brushing along the sides of our bodies, curving between our legs and wrapping back around heads until they burst apart in a shower of purple sparks raining down all around us.

His fangs retracted and he gently licked his puncture marks and pulled back slightly to see what he had created. He didn't say anything for a moment and I wondered whether we'd really stuffed things up and I now had a hideous combination of marks on my neck more obvious than they had ever been before.

“Well,” he said, licking his lips and then clearing his throat. “I don't think we need to worry about Gregor's mark any more.”

I reached up and felt where Michel had bitten me, it felt no different from any other bite. It shouldn't anyway, a normal bite and a mark look the same, it's just that a bite will disappear pretty quickly and a mark, or
Sigillum,
will stay for good.

Michel watched me with a little smile playing on his lips.

“What is it? Is it OK?”

“It's beautiful,” he whispered and pulled me towards his chamber and through to his bathroom, switching on lights with a flick of his wrist.

He stood me in front of him and kissed my forehead and then slowly turned me back towards the mirror. I expected something else, he had called it beautiful, but I hadn't really believed him. Michel's bite is unique, but it's just a bite. Vampires can recognise who's bite belongs to whom, but they all look pretty much the same to me. This bite however was not. I could see Michel's mark, his two tiny points, evenly spaced, a certain shape and size and distance from each other that all means him. But around them, interwoven through them, covering any other mark that may have hidden below was a beautiful colourful spectrum of colours, a geometrical design, laced with flourishes and swirls, similar to a light and pretty tattoo, that is unique to me. My Light. My
Sigillum
. Shit. Had I just marked myself?

“That's a bit kinky isn't it?” I asked Michel, thinking marking yourself was just a bit too narcissistic.

He laughed and shook his head. “It is beautiful. It shows everyone who sees it, that you not only accepted my mark, but welcomed it as your own. And” - he said, lowering his lips to kiss above the spot - “it lets Gregor know he is completely out of luck. His mark is no more.”

Wow, he was right. I looked closer and there was only one bite mark evident under the iridescent swirls. Not two and my brightly bizarre tattoo-like mark. Gregor's mark had simply vanished. Exactly what I wanted.

But how the hell was I going to go to work at the bank with
that
on my neck?

Ah shit.

Chapter 18
Gregor

“I guess this well and truly covers any privileges you wanted to take this evening.”

We were still standing in the bathroom of Michel's chamber, neither of us able to stop looking at what was most definitely the prettiest mark I had ever seen. I mean, Gregor wears my mark, but it was given under duress and kind of when I was angry, so it's colourful, but a bit gaudy in an amazing sort of way. And also in an in-your-face literally kind of way, as he wears it around his eyes. His eyes had caught my attention at the time and I guess that's where my
Sigillum
decided to go.

Michel wound his arms about me and began nuzzling my neck, laying kiss upon kiss above the new mark. He simply couldn't get enough of it.

“Do you have any idea how happy I am right now,
ma douce
?” His voice was muffled against my skin. I couldn't help but smile.

I'd honestly never meant to hurt Michel when I came back from Dream Walking to Gregor with his mark on my neck. I'd had no idea what I had done, let alone the pain it would have caused my kindred. But, now, finally, I felt like I had made amends for that mistake. I was thrilled Michel was happy.

“I love you,” I said simply. His eyes came up to look at me in the mirror.


Je t'aime trop, ma douce.

We looked at each other for a moment longer and then he straightened and popped one of his austere vampire looks on his face.

“So, now I have shouted to all and sundry that you are mine and no one else's, you can go talk with Gregor. I shall allow it.” He winked as he said the last, I just gave him a quick shove back and placed my hands on my hips.

“Don't get any ideas of grandeur, lover boy. Just because you have three marks on my body does not mean you own me.” I joked in return, but really, I meant it.

“Lucinda. Would I ever think anything like that?” he asked in mock shock, offering me his arm to escort me back to the party.

I just sighed and took what was offered allowing him to gloat all the way back down the hall. Once we came through the door and took in the party scene before us he spun me back towards him and kissed me hard and long. His hands possessively roaming all over my body in full view of the room.

“There's not been enough public displays of affection,
ma douce
. Just in case you forgot the other part of our deal.”

I shook my head and went to step away, only to receive a short slap to my rear that made me jump and glare at him. He just smiled and shrugged, that elegant shoulder movement he makes seem so sexy. He really was in a jovial mood though, wasn't he?

I ignored all the delighted faces of his vamps who not only took in the kiss and affectionate butt slap, but also were well and truly glowing at the new mark on my neck and headed over to Gregor's booth. As I slid in next to him Doug pushed a
Bacardi and Coke
along the table to me and after taking in my mark, smiled and walked away.

I took a sip, registering that it was a 50/50 mix, Doug obviously felt I needed bolstering and then finally met Gregor's eyes.

I knew I'd get a reaction, but I wasn't expecting this.

“What have you done,
ma cherie
?” His hand was over his heart and I don't think he was play acting.

I watched him for a moment unable to think of what to say,
sorry
? I wasn't, not really, he'd tricked me into his mark in the beginning and I really wanted it gone, so I wasn't sorry it was no longer there. Still, I hated seeing him hurt, even Gregor held a place in my heart.

“Can you forgive me, my friend?” I asked quietly.

His eyes lifted from the new mark to meet mine and he sighed, a weighted sigh.


You were always his, Lucinda. Even when you slept with me, you were still his.” He ran a hand through his hair, making the glorious black strands come loose at his clip. He roughly grabbed the clip and tossed it down on the table, ignoring where it landed. “The great Gregor Morel finally lost a prize.” His voice was a little bitter. I wanted to interrupt, but I felt he needed to get this off his chest and nothing I would say would make it better. The next time he spoke it was quiet, reflective even. “You know? This is the first time in centuries that I have felt remotely human.” His eyes returned to me. “I always thought you would be my saviour.” He laughed briefly. “I had just assumed it would be that you would bring me the final death, but maybe that was wrong.”

I had forgotten how suicidal Gregor was when I first met him, how Dark and desperate for release he had been. He had hated himself, he said he hated what he had become, but as far as I could see, he was just like any other vampire. He had a choice to let that Dark in or let the Light prevail, he'd just chosen the wrong team.

“You have already brought the Light back. I thought it had long forsaken me, but no, I feel it again, because of you. And now, I wonder, if you have made me more human too. And is that not a type of saving?” He took a long drink from his glass and shuddered slightly. I was thinking that was more to do with the conversation than the alcohol, Gregor wasn't one unable to handle his drink.

“You have always appeared human to me, Gregor.” Well, human laced with a very cunning, devious and delectable vampire thrown into the mix.

He smiled. “You are unique, to most I am the epitome of vampyre.”

He took another long sip of his drink and waved the empty glass in the air. Within seconds it was replaced with a full one. At least no one could complain about the service at
Sensations
.


I told you once that one day I would divulge my past to you, perhaps now is as good as ever. You seem a little lost,
ma petite chasseuse
, perhaps this is my chance to give you something in return.”

I really had no idea where this was heading. Gregor had always been a troubled soul, but he seemed like he was on the brink of destruction here and it worried me. He seemed even more screwed up than me. Maybe talking about it would help him and when that was done, we could talk about what bothered me.

“Why do you think Nosferatin blood calls to me?”

Whoa. I hadn't expected that question. “I don't know.”

“Hazard a guess.”

“I'm no good at guessing,” I replied automatically.

“Humour me, Lucinda. What could it possibly be about Nosferatins that attracts me so?”

“Their power?”

He nodded. “A good assumption. Compared to a human, Nosferatins do have stronger blood, more powerful and those of your calibre are quite delicious, but no. That would mean all vampires would be attracted to your blood. It is good when tasted, don't get me wrong, but it is not addictive.”

“Then why?”

“I was once Nosferatin.”

Four simple words, so quietly spoken, so softly whispered, no one but me would have heard them. The room disappeared as I contemplated those four simple words. It was just me
and Gregor. And two now forgotten glasses of booze.

“How is that possible?”

He smiled. “Yes. It is unusual.”

“Unusual? Gregor, Nosferatins can't be turned.” It was something Michel had told me at the beginning, when he had first disclosed what I was. Nosferatin and Nosferatu were of the same ilk, but had separated centuries ago. One into the night, one into the day, evil versus good, Dark versus Light. We could never be brought back as one again. You can't reverse evolution, not intentionally nor by accident, the rift, the break, was final. The only way we could be together again was side by side, as Michel and I are now.

“Yes, you are right, but I am the exception.”

I wondered then if Gregor had lost it, I was suddenly a little scared. A crazy vampire is an unpredictable vampire. I didn't like where this was going.

Are you all right, ma douce? Do you need me?

Michel had obviously picked up on my sudden emotional shift. I tamped down my fear and decided I needed to see this through to the end, for me, for Gregor. Maybe for all Nosferatin.

I'm OK, Gregor just said something I wasn't prepared to hear.

I felt him brush my mind in support and disappear. I looked back at Gregor. “Explain.”

“I was a mature unjoined Nosferatin in Paris in the late 16
th
century. My 25
th
birthday had already passed and I had barely days until my demise, but I had found a suitable vampire to join with. On the day of my joining however, his court was ransacked, totally destroyed, while they all lay in their day time beds. By the time I made it there at night fall, they were all dust and she was waiting for me. Crying, so desperately sad at the loss.

“She was beautiful, surrounded in bright white light. Dark skin and fine features, high cheek bones and long black hair. But it's her eyes I remember the most. Big, round pools of lava, a bright, bright gold. She was so sad, so very sad at the loss of so many Nosferatu”

He paused to take another gulp of his drink, but I didn't need the break in his monologue to mull over the description, because I had met her too. Nut. Gregor had met Nut. But, why was Nut at the scene of massacred Nosferatu and why was she so distraught?

“Paris was not the haven of sophistication and awareness of which we see today," he went on. "It was a cesspit of degradation. Vampires flocked there for easy prey, it was full of the Dark. She told me I would not find another Nosferatu to join with who was worthy, that time was not on my side, so she raised one of those who had not yet turned to dust but was moments from it and made him change me. She said she could not do it alone and once it was done my sire burst into dust and was no more.

“I was alone in the cesspit and I did not know why she had done it.”

“She never told you?” I asked incredulously. Surely Nut had a plan.

“She vanished during my turning and was not there when I awoke.”

“You know who it was, don't you?” I asked carefully. I wasn't sure he knew at all.

He looked at me with a far away cast to his eyes. “It was Nut,” he answered simply. “My goddess had forsaken me, I was now a creature that I despised and she had made it so.”

I didn't know what to say. To be turned into a vampire, when we are made to hunt them and kill them, would have been horrific. Talk about your culture shocks. It's one thing for a human to turn, but they're not going against everything they are born to be. Not that all vampires fall into the category of stake fodder, take Michel, I could no further consider staking him, or having to hunt him, than grow fangs myself. OK, maybe that wasn't a good analogy considering the former Nosferatin sitting opposite me now sporting a nice set of long sharp incisors, but you get the picture. This was big and it didn't make complete sense.

Some of it did though. “She was saving you, you would have died without a Nosferatu to join with.”

“Then why didn't she let me? I would rather have died an innocent than become what I did.”

It's hard to argue that train of thought and even suggesting to Gregor that he'd had a choice, to be a nice vampire or a nasty one, wouldn't have helped. Vampires are all nasty at their core, it's their strength of will which allows them to fight that Dark within. Gregor had lost his the moment he had been turned. It's not easy to stay perky when you've become the thing you fear the most.

But, there must have been a reason why Nut did this. Not just to save a life. If that were the case, then hundreds of my kind would not have died needlessly over the centuries when we pulled away from the Nosferatu, denying them our power. So why?

“Did she never tell you why? Give you a hint or anything?”

Gregor smiled at me, it was so full of sadness. Memories of a life lived against his will, of a trust broken by something which should never have let him down.

“She did return once, in a dream, about a century later. I had accumulated all of my power by then and had a line of my own. I'm not sure if she returned to tell me off, to get me to return to the Light, I had strayed a fair way by that stage, but she did come back. Most of what she said went over my head, made little sense at all, but one thing did remain. She said, we all have our paths laid out for us prior to our birth and that those paths are crossed by others, choices are always made; which branch to take, left or right. But no matter how we get there, we always end up where we are meant to be. The destination was determined before we were even conceived. Fatalistic, no?”

He took another sip of his drink and stared off into the distance, not even taking in the room around us. I played his words over in my head, if Nut had said them, then they meant something. So, Gregor was not meant to have died at that massacre, that's why she intervened and he is here now, with me. Why? If she had not had him turned, he would not be sitting opposite me telling me about his past, helping me to see a way through my pain to reach my end goal. And that's it, isn't it? I've been so hung up on Nero's death, so deep within my own grief, that I've been endangering myself, endangering the path I am on, maybe even changing my future because of that weakness. And really, why grieve? Sure, he is dead and I miss him, but if Nut is right, he had reached the end of his path anyway. If he hadn't, wouldn't she have stepped in? She didn't, he died saving me. No matter how he got there, he was meant to be there at the end, he was meant to save me.

BOOK: Giver of Light
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