Giver of Light (37 page)

“No. For now I am safe.” Or as safe as I can be.

Michel nodded and then sighed. “I have been a fool,
ma douce
.” He didn't elaborate, just looked around the barren cell, as though taking his environment in for the very first time. “You need to return to your body, conserve your energy and make a move when you can. If he drugs you, I will still find you. Do whatever you need to do to stay alive. I
will
find you.”

He kissed me hard and long, with a passion that said more than his words could ever convey. His tongue making a possessive sweep of my mouth, his arms crushing me to his chest.

“Now go,” he whispered huskily as he pulled me to my feet. “I am recovered and I will soon have my men free and be on my way back to you.” One last kiss and then he turned his attention to the door, his
Sanguis Vitam
building, pressing against my body, stealing the breath from my lungs. “Go,
ma douce
! Go now!”

I let my mind sink back down the connection, through a similar black nothingness void I usually travel when Dream Walking and woke up in the front seat of the Land Rover, Jonathan all up and in my face.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded, his fingers digging into my upper arms.

“Fainted,” I stammered, the first excuse that came to my mind. I did not want Jonathan to know Michel was breaking free of his vampires right now and that I had helped him.

He looked at me, a whole lot of
yeah ri-ight
written on his face, but didn't argue the point. Just turned back to the front of the vehicle and starting pulling us back onto the road. I noticed we had been parked up on the kerb. I couldn't quite tell where we were, but I was picking Mt Albert and I was pretty sure, given a few more kilometres we'd be hitting the South-Western Motorway, on a direct path to Auckland International Airport.

I could not let that happen.

I gave myself a mental check. Body intact, not too dizzy from Michel's feed, Light within touching distance, all systems go. I wanted to time this right and the fact that I wasn't wearing a seatbelt was also a little of a concern, but I'm not human, not by a long shot and what could prove fatal for a Norm, would just be a pain in the butt for me. Still, no one likes to intentionally hurt themselves, do they?

I waited until we were on a section of road without too many potential hazards, no other vehicles ahead, no late night pedestrians on the pavement and a stretch of road that had meant our speed had increased to above the legal limit. Perfect. Letting my Light build again inside me, I worked through the knowledge that I wasn't feeling entirely 100% and concentrated on the end goal. I wanted to fashion it into a weapon, to cause maximum pain, but the drain on my body from Michel's feed was greater than I had expected and my body was still recovering from the trip down Bond-Connection Lane, so I settled, reluctantly, on my natural fall-back position and let my Light build to a blinding cadence then slammed it against Jonathan in the driver's seat.

He hadn't even seen it coming, I'd obviously got good enough to contain it all within, not letting a beam escape around my body. The only warning he got, was a sudden blinding flash filling the cabin of the car, right before he shouted out in ecstasy, as my Light washed all over him, giving him, unfortunately, the best orgasm he would ever likely experience in his undead life. And making him lose complete concentration on the road. Why my natural born Light instinct has to be one of erotic pleasure and not bad ass pain, I do not know, but I took the opportunity it had provided, to lash out with my legs, twisting my body around in the seat, my hands still fastened above and behind me on the hand rail and kicked him hard in the head.

The vehicle swerved, uncontrollably, lurching over the centre island, taking out a road sign, narrowly avoiding a rock feature and then tipping over sideways, unable to stop the momentum carrying the top heavy bulk of the Land Rover over on its side. And then tumbling, over and over and over and over in a mad crash of shattering glass and wrenching and screeching metal and bangs and booms and a cacophony of noises that shrieked through my ears threatening to explode my ear drums and turn my brain to mush.

I felt the wrench and pull, my body lurching in a multitude of directions all at once, my head banging against the side beam of the vehicle's main cab, the smell of a stringent chemical as the air bags released around me - not really cushioning me, as so much as suffocating me - and then things got too crazy to take it all in. But I did know my hands had come free and were uselessly flailing around my head and body as the world tumbled by in a colourful frenzy accompanied by so much sound.

And then, nothing, but silence.

Complete and utter stillness. Not even a rolling hub cap, or steaming head gasket, just a void of noise that made my ears ring.

I don't know how long it took me to get my bearings, but eventually noise began to filter back in, as did cognitive thought. We were upside down, the engine was still running and Jonathan was out cold at my side.

Yippee fucking ki-yay!

I scrambled out the side window that was no more and landed in a pile of shattered glass and tiny scraps of twisted metal beside the car. I could hear Norms approaching, someone saying they had called an ambulance, someone else trying to wrap a blanket around me. I knew I couldn't stay. I'd escaped, but I wasn't yet free. Jonathan would come round all too quickly and if I didn't get away now, it would be too late.

I took a shattering deep breath in, feeling the pull of torn muscles and no doubt a couple of fractured ribs, but before I could allow my body to focus on the aches and pains, I staggered to my feet. A person next to me tried to push me back down into a sitting position, telling me to
take it easy, help was on the way
, but I'm stronger than the average 25 year old female and he didn't stand a chance. After the world stopped spinning, I patted him on the shoulder and said, a little unevenly, “The car is stolen. The driver is on drugs.” And ran.

Shouts and a few pounding feet followed me, but I kicked it into Nosferatin gear, dug deeper than I have ever had to dig before and just zoned out the chasers and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other at maximum velocity. I knew I wasn't at my top performance level, but even now, hurt and drained of energy, I would have been little less than a flash to those houses I passed and people I skirted around to avoid.

After running at top speed for ten minutes, I allowed myself a slower pace, using some of the freed up Nosferatin powers to scan my environments for threats. No vampires, no ghouls, no Taniwhas, nothing untoward. I slowed to a walking pace and tried to figure out where the hell I was.

After a few heart pounding seconds I came up on a round-a-bout, the busiest in Auckland City, although not so busy at this time of night. Royal Oak. I took Campbell Road at the intersection and picked up my pace before my body had a chance to collapse. I needed shelter, but I didn't have the strength to make it back to the CBD. Breaking and entering is not my kind of thing, so natural shelter was the best I could hope for.

I entered Cornwall Park at the main entrance and weaved my way across the grass and carpark and playground, towards the trees in the centre. I'd had a memorable practice session with Nero in these trees. I knew them well. Sliding down a large trunk, my back to the bark, a stake already out and settled in my hand, I let my body crumple and I slowly assessed my injuries.

Head hurt. Back. Neck. Chest, no doubt ribs. Hip on the right side. Right knee. And both wrists. I looked at the hand cuffs still attached, the chain broken somewhere in between and rubbed gingerly underneath the metal. My skin had been gouged raw on both sides, the metal practically cutting through to the bone. Thank God I didn't remember the actual moment the chain busted and my hands came free, the aftershock was bad enough.

At least I was conscious, breathing and alive. And as I let my senses flow out about me, alone. I wasn't sure if Jonathan could track me, he'd have to have come to and got away from the Norms. Not a hard task, but hopefully someone had called the cops after my little disclosure about car theft and drugs, and a Taser or two could hold him in his place. For now, I was marginally safe, but it wouldn't last.

I allowed myself a moment to check on Michel. I could feel him strong and sure down the Bond connection now, not even muted in the slightest. I had a feeling he was holding himself open to me, maybe sending me some of his power, maybe using some of mine. I couldn't tell, but I did know he was focused and healthy and extremely irate. Whatever had got him angry was now receiving the full blast of a level one joined Master Vampire. I could only imagine he was still fighting Jonathan's men, his battle wasn't over, even though I got the feeling he had everything well under control. That reassurance allowed me some modicum of peace, so I withdrew and concentrated on my own little battle at hand.

Still no sign of approaching threats, so what now? I could rest a while, then try to move on. But, where to? I couldn't go back to
Sensations
and I wasn't strong enough to face the Queen of Darkness, whom I hadn't even attempted to locate out of fear of giving myself away. I had battened down the hatches, all metaphysical doors inside my mind bolted and padlocked shut. The only pathway open was directly to my kindred, I wasn't risking a
Prohibitum Bibere
episode, that was for sure. I'd feel the evil-lurks-in-my-city pull, if one happened to come along, but even though it would pain me, I could ignore it, fight it, resist it. So, where to? I had no human friends I could turn to outside of the CBD and really, I wouldn't have wanted to get them involved. And the longer I sat here, the more it became apparent that I was shattered, beaten and in no state to move at all.

Shit. This was not good. A crop of trees was hardly protection and even though there was probably only two hours of darkness left, even the sun could not guarantee my safety. Jonathan or the Queen could use humans, hell Jonathan had used them already on me when I had been taken that first time.

I shook my head in frustration, letting my mind wander to those vampires I left behind in
Sensations
, wondering if Doug was all right. And Shane Smith. Whether Pete and the ghouls had made it out OK. A sudden thought occurred to me, if Pete was free he could come to me. I fished inside my jacket for my cellphone, only to find its screen shattered and the thing as dead as a dodo. It had obviously come between a stake in my jacket and my chest, in the helter skelter that had been the Land Rover equivalent of a spin dryer set on high. I blew out a breath almost admitting defeat, then remembered Samson. My vampire. My line.

If Michel could telepathically talk to his vampires, could I? I wasn't a vampire, but in theory I was a master. I hadn't felt the urge to try it before now and Samson certainly hadn't given it a whirl, but it was about my only possible chance left of getting myself out of this sparse wooded area and somewhere a little more secure. I calmed myself down with a little Nosferatin meditation, homing in on the black nothingness that usually took me Dream Walking, but not allowing myself to get that far. I'd already supposedly Dream Walked once tonight, all I needed was to be comatose in Cornwall Park for three whole days after a second Dream Walk.  And then I sent my senses out to Samson.

I felt him immediately, as though he was standing at the end of a taut line, pulling back against my tug, responding to my poke. I tried to talk to him, to call his name, to ask a question, to shout inside my head. I even spoke aloud, but got nothing back to indicate he had heard me, or understood a damn word I had said. But, I did keep getting that pull, that tug against the line and although I had no idea what it meant it was a kind of reassurance, so I settled back to rest and recuperate and just held on to the end of that connection, letting the random tugs from Samson settle my nerves and provide a false sense of safety.

After about half an hour I felt stronger and even a little rested, but more surprisingly, the tugs were more frequent and a hell of a lot more powerful. I started paying attention to them and could actually sense them get faster, more vigorous, more forceful, until I was sure it was becoming one long tug and not just a series of them anymore. My heart had started beating harder and with a sudden jolt of panic, I shot my senses out and felt him nearby. He was alone and approaching cautiously. I'd been so wrapped up in concentrating on Samson's connection, I had stopped paying attention to my surroundings at all. Idiot.

I rolled my stake around in my palm, not quite ready to jump to my feet, but waiting until he showed himself and I could be absolutely certain. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, but was probably nothing more than a minute or two, he stepped out of the trees opposite me. Eyes darting left and right, nose sniffing the air for threats, fists held in a loose but ready position for attack.

“Mistress. You are alone?”

I smiled and let a breath out that I had been holding. “I told you to call me Luce. And yes, I am alone.”

“Well done,” he said with a smile. “Did you stake him?”

I shook my head and painfully got to my feet. God everything ached. Samson was beside me in a flash, lending his arm for support and steadying my shoddy balance. “Unfortunately, no, but he's going to have a bitch of a headache.”

“Excellent,” he replied and swept me up in his arms. “I think it best I carry you, we will need to move quickly, if we are to cover our tracks.”

He was running in an instant, the trees just blurs as they flashed by in the dim light of the overhead moon.

“Where are we going?” I asked, battling against fatigue.

“Pete has a safe house, Michel's men are all there. I will take the long route, to be sure you have not been tracked. Sleep,” he paused, then added softly, “Luce. I will not let anything happen to you, I swear.”

I took his advice and let the blanket of sleep envelope me. When I awoke, it was to an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar house, surrounded by very familiar vampires. I slowly sat up on the couch I had been lying on, hoping the stench of beer and beef jerky hadn't yet seeped into my skin. The place was a pigsty, so definitely not Pete's home, but it had the distinct whiff of ghoul to it, so no doubt an associate at least.

Rubbish spewed out of a bin in the corner, filthy dishes were piled high in the sink next to the bin, the table in front of that was covered in wrappers and bottles and various other consumed and discarded paraphernalia. And the rest of the place wasn't much better. The sun's light outside, at least, well hidden behind shutters, but the curtains in front all tattered and torn. The couch I was on wasn't the only one to have been perfumed either, looking at the state of the mismatched armchairs and settees that dotted the rest of the place. But whereas the kitchen hadn't been touched, the seats and couches were clear of junk and just laden with buff and alert vampires. All of which had showered and looked ready to face an army of Jonathan's men. 

“Where are we?” I croaked and then had to clear my voice.

“Eden Terrace. One of Pete's extended family's shit hole of a house,” Marcus offered and received a huge smile of relief from me when I spotted him in the corner, scrunched between Matthias - thank God he was back - and Shane Smith.

“You're alive?” was all I could manage. I had really thought the Queen of Darkness had had her evil way with Marcus, considering how close he had come to her at Aotea Square.

“Of course I'm bloody alive. I do have skills you know.”

“And he knows when to run like a Nancy from a bigger threat than a rogue,” Matthias added, dodging the fist that went straight for his head.

“Oh. I get it. You saw the Queen and skedaddled,” I said.

“Skedaddled?” Marcus asked, eyebrows raised. “Who uses skedaddled?”

“Give me a break,” I muttered. “I'm hungry, sore, tired and a little bit pissed off. I can use whatever god-damned language I like.”

“True,” he simply answered.

“We don't have any food for you, sorry, Luce.” This was from Doug, who I was also extremely pleased to see and also note that he looked fully recovered. Somewhere from
Sensations
to here, he had fed. I didn't really want to figure out how he managed that one, some things are better left unsaid. “Considering this is a ghoul's house," he went on, “it's surprising, but I think it has been uninhabited for some time. So, no edible food.”

Bugger. I was starving. “Is there at least water?” I asked resting my head in my hands. Someone thrust a cleanish glass in my hand with what had to be tap water. I gratefully accepted it and thanked my lucky stars I lived in a country where tap water was drinkable if not always palatable. I felt inordinately better after downing that.

“So, what's the plan?” I finally asked, knowing damn well we weren't out of the woods just yet.

“Michel is on his way, with most of our line, he should be here on night fall,” Doug answered.

Oh thank God. I hadn't tested the Bond connection again since nearly collapsing at Cornwall Park when Samson found me and I wasn't sure I could do it in front of all of Michel's men. It just seemed a little personal and I was way too close to the edge right now not to make a scene.

“OK, that's good. What else do we know?”

Doug seemed to be the one in charge, which didn't surprise me actually. Although he had always been the quiet one behind the bar at the club, he was also the one who knew the most of what was happening at any given time. I had never seen Michel give him any more attention than any of the others, but the way Michel conversed with Doug, always made me think there was more between them than meets the eye. I was thinking now, that perhaps Doug was Michel's secret weapon. A quiet, observant, friendly face, watching from the sidelines, but more than capable of taking up the reins when the need arose.

“Jonathan is an unknown. Samson said, when he arrived with you, that you had injured him. How badly?”

“Not nearly enough to slow him down. I should think he would be free by now and planning his next attack.”

“
OK, we can assume he has
Sensations
under surveillance and that his own lair would be nearby, in the CBD. He would expect you to return there to face the Queen, who we believe has commandeered the Town Hall.”