Shadow's Light (27 page)

My parents' farm materialised around me in what felt like the instant I shut my eyes. Maybe it had. Maybe Michel had been waiting for me to fall asleep. I spun around and there he was, looking healthy and radiant and not the least bit like a prisoner should. I didn't waste any time, but threw myself into his arms the second I saw him. He spun me around clasping me tightly, his face buried against my neck.

“
Ma douce
,” he murmured, his hand caught up in my shortened hair, the other holding me close. “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine,” I answered, pulling back to get a good look at him. I searched his face for signs of pain or discomfort, but all I saw was relief. And love. He smiled under my scrutiny.

“I am fine also,
ma belle
.” His fingers brushed my cheek. “Where are you?”

“At home in New Zealand, the fairy came with me. Everybody is ecstatic to hear you are alive.” He chuckled quietly then, but didn't say anything. “What does the Champion want with you?”

“The usual. She is cautious by nature, my return has surprised her.”

“Good surprise or bad surprise?”

“It is difficult to say. But I cannot see her stalling much longer. She will lay her cards on the table before long.”

I must have looked concerned because his face softened further and he leaned in and kissed my forehead, whispering against my skin, “I am well versed with her tactics,
ma douce.
I have known her for centuries. She is a creature of habit. It is merely a game she must play and I am very good at such games. I will convince her I am trustworthy, but I cannot chance talking mind to mind with you right now. She is watching me closely.” The Champion could read minds with little to no effort at all. She didn't need a connection or Bond, she didn't need the thoughts to be projected. She didn't just pluck the odd one here and there. She was capable of reading every thought you ever had, if she so chose.

I pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Have you been hearing my thoughts?” I had been trying on and off since we returned to project my thoughts to him, when I had found him no longer with me.

“I heard your first attempt to contact me and then was forced to block the rest. The Champion would have heard them too.”

“So, why come to me in a dream?” Surely that was equally as dangerous.

“Her talent does not breach dreams, that is unique to me.”

I suddenly felt a weight lift off my shoulders. I hadn't realised how concerned I was that Michel had not been speaking in my mind. I couldn't understand that he could reach me from
Álfheimr
and then not be able to reach me from the
Iunctio's Palais
back in our realm. I relaxed against his chest and let him engulf me in his arms.

“You smell delightful,” he said softly, his face once again buried in my neck. “I want to devour you.” His lips started brushing against my skin, his teeth gently scraping. His tongue lay a wet line down my neck and then he suckled on my pulse point. “
Ma douce
,” he murmured. Such hunger and need and longing in those words.

I didn't argue when he lay me down on the grass and moulded himself against me. I didn't complain when his hands began smoothing over my bare legs beneath the flowing white dress he had me in, in this dream. I greedily accepted his lips on mine. His tongue wrapped around mine. My own hands finding a path up his back, over the white shirt he was wearing. Up into his long dark hair. Fingering every silken strand, relishing the softness and scent when I pulled his hair free of its clasp. It fanned around his face and brushed against the naked skin at my neck making tingles dance across my body in its wake.

In an instant he had the dress off me and I fumbled like a teenager with the buttons on his shirt in return. He chuckled at my haste, but didn't help me. Just kept laying kiss upon kiss across my flesh. His movements making it harder for me to unlatch each button. Eventually, frustration and my own hunger and need won out and I clasped the shirt in both hands and yanked it apart. The satisfying sound of material ripping and buttons popping met our ears. And finally I could trace the ridges across his abdomen and follow up to the muscles of his chest. I was lost.

I hadn't realised Michel had stopped kissing me. That he had moved back, allowing me room to explore and was watching my face intently.

“Such concentration,
ma douce
. Such devotion to the task. Do you like what you see?”

My eyes flicked up to his and were rewarded with a dazzling display of indigo and amethyst and a wicked smile playing on his mouth. I smiled back and licked my lips. My hands had stilled on his chest, but my fingers were softly moving over each nipple. They were hardening and the skin around them puckering under my touch. Michel's breath had hitched too.

“Yes,” I answered simply, keeping my eyes on his face and lifting myself closer to his body. My lips found his nipples, replacing my fingers and he shuddered beneath my nips and sucks and licks.

He let me work some magic on one nipple, then the other. And I even managed to make a path from there up his chest to beneath his chin, before he caved. Pulling away and stripping himself bare. His movements so fluid and fast and mesmerizing.

“I do not know how much time we have here,” he said breathlessly, positioning himself between my legs. His erection sitting straight and long and proud between us. “I am sorry, I cannot take the time to pleasure you , but if I do not sink myself inside you soon, I will surely burst.” The need to claim me was obvious. His vampire-within insisting he make me his.

I reached up and wrapped my hands around his neck, pulling him closer for a deep and meaningful kiss. His whole body responded to my taste, jerking violently and then shuddering as the kiss deepened further. Both of us panting within seconds, so consumed by the other's mouth and tongue. Within a minute I could no longer breathe and my body was writhing beneath him. Who would have thought that a simple kiss could push you over the edge?

Michel was the one to end our torture, shifting slightly so the tip of his sex rested at my entrance and then with one slow roll of his hips he pushed his way inside. I screamed out as soon as I felt him fill and stretch me, his mouth came over mine again and drank down my cries. Then with a few more slow rolls of his hips I toppled over the edge and let my body fly.

By the time I came back to myself, panting and floating and feeling like I was surrounded in bliss, Michel's pace had increased. His own desire to reach climax overcoming any intentions he may have had to encourage a further orgasm from me. In short time I could see him nearing his own conclusion and because I could, because it was no longer cut off from me, I reached deep within and grabbed hold of my Light. And thrust it out at him as he came.

My Light hit first Michel, then bounced back to me and we both cried out in ecstasy as it swirled around our bodies lifting us higher and higher and higher, and then finally allowing us both to float back down to Earth. Had we not been in a dream, I think I would have marked him. Given him my
Sigillum
again. But as this
was
a dream, he only received my love. And bliss-filled Light.

“Hold that thought,” he whispered breathlessly against my cheek. “As soon as I have you back in my arms in reality, I will insist upon your mark.”

“You're reading my thoughts? Isn't that dangerous?” Wouldn't the Champion hear?

He kissed me in reply. Just a quick kiss. A brush of lips against each other. “Not in your dreams,
ma douce
. Here you are all mine.”

He collapsed on the ground beside me and wrapped me in his arms, holding tightly, almost crushing me to him. As if his words alone couldn't convince me I was his.

The last thing I remembered before drifting back to the unconsciousness of sleep, was the feel of his arms around me and the sound of his words in my head, telling me,
I was all his
.

I was all his. That thought never really does get old.

I woke before the shutters had a chance to rise and was feeling refreshed and more alive than I had done in weeks, as I walked down the stairs to the kitchen, still clad in my cotton pyjamas. One dream with Michel and my equilibrium was reset. Despite all of the worry that surrounded us right now, for the few brief moments upon waking I felt invincible. Cherished. Loved.

I was all his.

Silly really, that a few words whispered to me in my sleep could make me feel so alive.

I made myself some breakfast. Even though it was late in the day, having just got up out of bed, breakfast felt right. Toasted muesli, chopped fruit and yoghurt. Plus, of course, the obligatory frothy coffee. I was just finishing up when Samson walked in, already dressed for a night out on the town. Or at least at
Sensations
.

He had on taupe drill pants and an open neck, untucked, almost steel grey shirt. So simple, but with his blonde hair and deep chocolate brown eyes he looked stunning. He also smelt pretty damn good. A cologne I hadn't smelled on him before. I finished my cereal and sat back sipping my coffee, eyeing him over the rim of my
Bite Me
mug. He was making himself a Long Black coffee and looked bloody good from behind.

I shifted in my seat to get an uninterrupted view of his body. The pants fitted to perfection.

“Why are you checking me out?” he asked, not turning around.

I didn't miss a beat. “You look good. Why not?”

He laughed and turned to look at me as his coffee finished pouring. The look on his face was a mixture of bemusement and sadness. I couldn't figure out why. I held his gaze for a moment, but it was too intense. I was the first to look away, pretending my coffee needed a gentle blow to cool it.

He came and sat next to me. I was guessing it was on purpose. He could have sat on the other side of the table, but he chose the chair right by my side so he wouldn't have to look directly at me.

After a long silence, he said quietly, “You know, I would have sold my soul at one time to have you check me out like that.” I took a drink from my coffee, but didn't say anything. What was there to say? Samson had never been on my radar like that. Michel had always held my heart and always would. “You're a couple of weeks too late,” he whispered.

He finished his coffee and stood up from the table before his words even registered with me. He bent down and kissed the top of my head and then messed it up, like you would a little sister, before slipping from the room. I sat there quietly running his words over in my head. Samson had always known I wasn't going to pursue something with him. Hadn't he? And now I was too late?

I smiled quietly to myself. Samson had met someone who was important to him. I enjoyed that thought. Just who the hell was the mysterious woman from yesterday morning?

The house began to stir and knowing the shutters would be rising soon, I scooted off to the bathroom to shower and change. I almost dressed in my old familiar hunter gear. Short, short mini skirt and tight fitting Tee. But, Michel was still on my mind. Or at least the feel of Michel moving inside me, kissing me, touching me. The dream from last night. So I reached for one of the designer dresses he had bought me, with a matching jacket. All in black. The dancing dragon necklace lay perfectly over the top of the scooped neckline.

After a brief brush of my stupidly short hair – it didn't need more attention than that and I really didn't want to give it any – I headed to the office and opened the safe. Grabbing two new silver stakes and a silver dagger and slipping them into their respective slots in the jacket. The familiar weight of my Nosferatin tools settled my heartbeat and allowed me a moment of clear thought.

Lutin could appear tonight. Or Avery. At this point in time, I would prefer the fairy. At least we had a plan as far as he went. I had no idea if Avery was still alive, I assumed so. Lutin had left him unconscious in that hotel room in São Paulo. Sooner or later he would hunt me down. But Lutin hung over my head like an axe, waiting for the right moment to strike. I hated playing bait. Who doesn't? The need to have this over with was astounding.

I came out to the hallway, just as the shutters rose for the night. The air in the house seemed to lift with anticipation. The vampires all coming out of their shells. I could feel the increase in
Sanguis Vitam
. I could smell their hunger and desire. It's not that they turn into a ravaging beast as soon as the sun sets. But, the knowledge that they could hunt now if they chose, was enough to get any vamp excited.

Fairy blood is intoxicating to a vampire. So, being the only human, or in my case half-human, in the house was always a little bizarre. Not that I expected any of them to jump me and suck back a pint. But, I couldn't help noticing how their eyes at this time of the night, automatically roamed over my neck. I don't think they even realised they were doing it. It was just a natural predatory instinct.

I rolled my shoulders and turned to see the fairy coming down the stairs. He seemed oblivious to the increase in vampire power in the space surrounding us. Or he was good at ignoring it. He was also dressed differently, still cloaked in glamour, but now attired similar to Samson. An outfit any human would have worn. He was either a quick learner, or deception was natural to the Fey. He'd fit in, in our world, even if he didn't belong at all.

I studied him for a moment and wondered again, just what would he take from a Norm? As a Grey Lord he was obviously powerful and also harking from the upper echelons of their society. Would he steal someone's hope? Their courage? Their ability to love? The
Dökkálfa
didn't steal our babies, like the
Ljósálfar
were prone to do. They were capable of mating with a
mœðr
, but they had a strong belief that their lines should remain pure.

It was part of that whole rituals and rules thing they had going on. They had been imprisoned, cut off from all other influences for so long, they couldn't openly contemplate mixing human blood with fey as a natural course of action. Their solitary nature hadn't changed just because their prison walls had crumbled.

Aliath stared back at me without emotion. If he knew what I was thinking, he didn't show it. I held his gaze for a moment longer and then allowed myself the thought that
Sensations
would be free from Norms this evening and chances of Aliath preying on a mortal were slim. My gaze flicked to Samson and he nodded at me. He knew what I was thinking and he'd keep an eye on the fairy all night. I nodded in return and headed out the door.

Aliath joined me in my car, plus Nataliya and Samson. Sergei, Marcus and Matthias followed my BMW in the Land Rover at a safe distance. It was a little surreal to be behind the wheel of my car again and cruising along Tamaki Drive. Familiar, yet because so much had happened since I last drove it and abandoned it at Auckland Airport, strange. Once again my life had changed beyond recognition in a very short period of time. I ran my hands over the steering wheel and pressed the accelerator down a little harder, making the engine purr to life. Letting myself sink into the familiar of pushing the car and myself, not to mention the occupants with me, to the very edge.

By the time we reached
Sensations
' underground car park, Aliath was a little pale and Samson had shut his eyes. Only Nataliya held my gaze in the rear view mirror, a small smirk playing on her lips. My parking space was empty. I was relieved, but couldn't help feeling that possibly Jett had arranged for it to be so. I wasn't the only one who had been through many changes since I was last here. My car park is right by the door, under the security camera and lights. A prime parking location. I was sure it hadn't been wasted in my absence. But, I was happy it was now once again mine.

At least it was until Jett took over the line completely. There was still a chance that he would play the Master of the City card and force Michel out. I shook my head to clear that uncharitable thought from my mind and led the others in through the internal door to the club beyond.

Sensations
looked the same. Sleek, dark wood. Lush furnishings in brown, gold and red. Dim, but perfectly placed lighting. The smell of furniture polish and the faint whiff of something edible. Maybe beef or lamb.
Sensations
has a kitchen, staffed during business hours for the Norms who frequent the bar. It would be closed now, as only vampires were present.

Well, vampires, a vampire hunter and one human girl. My eyes were drawn to her immediately. Sometimes at private functions there would be humans attending too. But, usually they were aware of their role in vampire society. Food or entertainment, or both.
Sensations
was slightly better than some vampire haunts I had been to. But, as she was the only human in the room, it seemed illogical that she would be here for the vampires' needs. Certainly offering one solitary human in amongst all of the vampires in attendance, was asking for trouble.

My natural Nosferatin instincts clicked in and the urge to protect the innocent and get her away from harm was quickly drowning any urge to go to the familiar vampire faces in the room and catch up. She looked about mid-twenties, or there about, had long platinum blonde hair tied up in a pony tail, pale white skin and light, bright blue eyes. Cerulean blue, I think they are called. She smiled at the vampires who she was standing with as though she knew them. It was then I noticed she had on an apron, over top of her tight black jeans. She was untying it from around her waist as though she had just finished a shift behind the bar.

I took a step towards her direction, intending to tell her to get the hell out of here fast, when Samson overtook me and walked straight up to her. The urgency in his movements led me to believe he felt the same way as me. He shot a look at Doug, the barman who also ran the place when Michel was away. A look that I was sure was all censure. Then leant down and said something to the girl. Her face brightened immediately and he accompanied her from the room, towards the staff quarters.

Once she had left the clubroom floor, I relaxed. Samson would make sure she was safe and out of here before any of the vampires got too drunk or hungry for blood. I returned my attention to the room. Only a few vampires had noticed our entrance, none of them I was particularly close to. But, the one I really wanted to say hello to had. Doug smiled at me from across the floor and began to pour a
Bacardi and Coke
.

I walked over and returned the smile, genuinely happy to see my old friend and former boss. I had worked a total of two shifts here behind the bar, before I had run away to South America. I was sure Doug didn't hold it against me, but I was picking he had, at the very least, replaced me with that human girl. The bar opened before the sun set, so a non-vampire was needed to get things started.

I slid into a bar stool and accepted the proffered drink with a smile. Doug smiled back, his brown eyes sparkling in the dim light of the bar. And then ran a hand through his trim goatee, leaning forward to rest on the bar top.

“Lucinda,” he said with genuine affection obvious in his voice. “You're looking good.” My hand reached up reflexively to my short butchered hair. “Fancied a change, did you? I like it. It suits you.”

“You're just saying that to make me feel better. The
Dökkálfa
Queen was proving a point.” I shot a glance over my shoulder at Aliath. He stood within a couple of feet of me, not touching a thing or a soul.

Doug hissed and stood up straighter, glaring at the Grey Lord. “You would look good no matter what, mistress,” he said evenly, not removing his eyes off the fairy. The use of my title threw me momentarily. I had never got used to any of Michel's vampires calling me that. Whenever he had been away in the past and I had been left behind in Auckland, as his kindred Nosferatin, I took on the role of head of the line. The fact that there was no longer a line or that I was no longer his kindred Nosferatin, didn't seem to matter to Doug. Just as Jett had implied.

I had always been uncomfortable in the past with being called mistress. Now I just felt sad.

Doug returned, not long after that, to serve waiting customers. He had never been one for long drawn out conversations. Preferring instead to offer companionable silence when tending the bar. I swung around on my stool to search for more faces I knew. I did know most of the vampires here. At least by their looks, if not their names. But there were certainly a few who were closer to me than others.

Shane Smith was the first to approach. His short curly white blonde hair standing out in a room full of long haired gorgeous looking people. Shane is a younger vampire, less than fifty years old. And as such hasn't come into his full
Sanguis Vitam
powers yet. Although, with Shane, it's difficult to tell if he will become a master at all. He just seemed to lack the motivation or desire, quite happy to remain the gopher for the line. Shane was the message boy, the go-to man for minor tasks and deeds. He was also in charge of helping new vamps assimilate into the line. A recent promotion that had garnered a little more respect from the likes of Jett.

Shane knew how to play the game even if he wasn't one of the top players. He was also my friend.

I spent the next hour talking quietly with him and a few other vampires who meant something to me. Unlike previous gatherings, where Michel's vampires have needed to touch me in some way to rekindle a connection with him, this time few did. Several approached and asked questions of their former master's survival, but most were done so in a stilted, formal manner. I found myself pining for their touch. An unusual turn-around, as I had always been the one overwhelmed by their need for tactile moments. The absence of that need in them only reinforced how much things had changed.