Shadow's Light (8 page)

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Authors: Nicola Claire

BOOK: Shadow's Light
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Before I even knew what I was doing - my arms wrapped around my stomach as I rocked back and forth - I let a scream out at the top of my lungs. And along with that cry of anguish and heartache I sent out a blast of my Light at Avery. Fuck him. Fuck him to Hell and back.

He flew backwards through the air and landed in a heap against the bed, a shout escaping his lips as he crashed to the floor. His body writhed and bucked and then he rolled over and started rocking against the floor as an orgasm ripped through his body and rendered him totally spent. Then nothing. Just a still form covered in a sheen of sweat and smelling of sex.

He wasn't breathing. He wasn’t moving. I knew I hadn't killed him, he hadn't burst into dust. But, I might have blown his mind. Who knew what a Light induced orgasm could do at that sort of volume. I had my erotica-meter negligently turned up high when I pelted that baby out.

I watched him for a while and then began to feel a little worried. Avery might be a Dark vampire who could take advantage of me in an instant. Hell, he'd been playing me since he got here, I was sure. But, he had been trying to help me tonight. He'd also saved me from that fairy. Taken a beating at the hands of the Fey to get to me. And had even been trying to get me to fight back through the entire mind episode right now. To the point of yelling at me to fight and use my Light.

Ah shit. What had I done?

I crawled towards him across the bare floorboards and reached out a hand to roll him over on to his back. He thumped down on the wooden floor, a dead weight. He could be in that place vampires go when trying to heal. I hoped he was, because that would mean he would come back to me.

I tried shaking him. Shouting at him. Pinching him. Slapping him. Anything I could think of, save from my Light. He'd had enough of that. Nothing worked. He just lay there. Like a statue.

I could tell dawn was approaching, so I got up and shuttered the windows. I had a drink of water, but couldn't stomach any food. And then spent the next hour sitting next to Avery telling him my life story.

From when my parents died on that road in the South Island. How I had been the only survivor of the car crash that took them. Of my aunt and uncle who had raised me. The farm where I grew up, tending the little lambs. Of my job in the bank, counting coins and notes. How I loved fighting. I'd been obsessed with any form of martial arts growing up and had tried to master most of them. Not all successfully. How I loved Auckland, but truly could not see myself ever living there again.

When I reached my memories of Michel, I stopped. I couldn't voice them. They were still so raw. So, I sat in silence, listening to Rio de Janeiro waking for the day, until eventually I lay down beside his still form and fell sound asleep.

Warm, clean sheets and a soft bed enveloped me. Firm, strong arms around my body. A faltering heartbeat. A whisper of a kiss against my flesh. Michel?

Then fangs entering my skin at the base of my neck woke me completely from what was probably going to be a harrowing dream anyway.

Sorry
, Avery's voice mumbled in my head.
Need blood.

I came fully awake in his arms on top of the bed. He'd obviously shifted us there, but been able to do little else. I was sitting across his lap, both his arms around me and his head buried at my throat. Every pull of blood from my vein was accompanied by a growl from him. He was trying not to make it something more than a sense of warmth and safety. Not wanting me to panic. His need for blood must have been strong to take from me while I slept. The fact that he was controlling his influence over me was actually quite surprising, given the circumstances.

He was taking more than even he normally would. I'd blasted him with my Light and left him nearly dead. The least I could do was let him have my blood.

His purr was the last thing I heard before I fell back to sleep in his arms.

Chapter 6
Practise Makes Perfect

I woke wrapped up in a body. A warm, hard, big body. Arms protectively cradling me, a leg thrown over my own and a hot breath washing past my neck and chest. I tried to move away instinctively, but Avery's arms just tightened and pulled me closer to him. A low growl coming from the back of his throat. I didn't think he was awake. He had no idea what he was doing.

I lay there for a moment, convincing my heartbeat not to increase. If Avery had been near death and had fed from me for survival, his vampire-within probably saw me as essential to his existence. It would feel possessive and not want anyone else to get to me at all.

“Avery?” I whispered, trying not to frighten the predator.

Nothing, just an infinitesimal tightening of his arms. I really needed the bathroom. My throat was dry, my head was beginning to pound and I was sure that when I went to stand, the world would sway. Avery hadn't drained me dry, but he'd obviously needed a lot of sustenance. I could feel how weak and nauseous I was. Always a sure sign that the vampire had overfed.

Minutes ticked by. His breathing so steady and calm. His body against my own. Despite that, I felt a little chilled. The blanket had fallen down off the bed. Avery was dressed in his jeans, no top. His bare chest against me. I was still in my T-Shirt and shorts. Goose bumps had appeared on my legs. I was definitely low on blood.

I tried to rouse him again, a little more firmly and louder this time, but still nothing. I bit my lower lip and took a deep breath in. Avery was so far retreated into wherever it is vampires go when they rest, he had no idea at all that I was trapped by his hold. I couldn't budge him, he weighed a ton. Besides, strength seemed to fail me. The lack of blood, having not eaten a decent meal in God knows how long and the heaviness that simply would not budge from the centre of my chest, meant my efforts to dislodge the dead - excuse the pun - weight above me were ineffectual.

I desperately tried to think of an out. Being held by Avery was not life threatening, well at least not at the moment, but tell that to my bladder. I didn't want to do it, I still felt utterly guilty about the effects of my Light on him last night, but I had no other weapon at my mercy. My jacket was strewn over the armrest of the couch, in it my stakes. My knife had been removed, along with its sheath at my waist. All that was left were my abilities. My powers.

I am stronger than an average human, but not when exhausted like now. And even at top form, Avery would probably be stronger. So, after much internal debate and to-ing and fro-ing, I let the smallest concentration of Light I could manage out, directly at Avery's chest.

He responded. A slight shift of his body closer. A purr beginning to start in his chest. The vibration coming through him right into me. That vampire purr, Michel had purred too, Goddess, I missed Michel so much.

I took a deep breath in, frowning, but tried to get thoughts of Michel out of my head. Avery needed to wake up and then I'd know just how much he was in control of himself. Or how much his vampire had taken over.

“Wake up Plucking Pervert," I said to test the waters, he had responded after all. "You're pressing on my bladder and I gotta pee.” Subtlety had deserted me, though, fifteen minutes earlier. I crossed my legs and tried to think of dry, moisture-less places.

It didn't help, nor had my statements. Avery was still a granite shaped weight above me. Immobile, immutable, unforgiving.

Several minutes passed, my bladder fit to burst and the realisation that this could go on all day settling into my mind like a scratchy old horse blanket. Unwanted and uncomfortable. And definitely not nice. A small blast of my Light had done nothing, other than make his vampire hold on to me tighter than before. I was going to have to resort to drastic measures. And although part of me was grateful that Avery had not yet proven to be as Dark as I was all too well aware - he
had
helped me escape those fairies, he had also
not
taken advantage of my drunken behaviour, or my fey mind-manipulation episode - I still felt escape was the only sensible thing to do. Avery was a connection to my past, but he was still Avery. After only that which would further his own needs. He was using me and if I stayed, or allowed him to remain near, I would become trapped.

I didn't do trapped. I wasn't going to entertain the notion now.

I gathered my Light, thinking the best way to incapacitate Avery was a repeat of last night. I should have escaped then, I shouldn't have let my emotions, my sentimentality, my moral compass, get in the way. I should have packed a bag and silently screamed as I ran from the apartment. But now I had another chance.

My Light hit him in the chest, dead centre, but I knew immediately that it was different from last night. I had thrown it at him with as much emotion as then, not necessarily anger this time, but desperation and fear can be as equally powerful in their own right. It wasn't my Light that was drastically different however, it was Avery's response to it. Even with his vampire so close to the surface, he was in control of how he reacted to my blast. Vampires are adaptable, don't believe the old fairy tales that depict an ancient creature unable to modernise and evolve. They learn from their mistakes, they create protection based on experiences of pain and hurt. I had harmed Avery last night, his vampire had learned his lesson and adapted well.

My Light blasted into him, but was somehow unable to exact the desired result. It
did
hurt, but he wasn't knocked unconscious, instead he fought back.

Suddenly my body was slick with sweat, my breaths uneven, almost panting, an ache pressed in to my centre, heat spiralling out of control. Michel's chuckle, as he flicked his hot, wet tongue around my nipple, rumbled through his chest and fuelled the fire burning inside of me out of control. I was in heaven and Michel was my God.

Michel moved his body against mine, his lips trailing a path up my chest, throat, jaw and chin. I moaned as he kissed me passionately on the lips. Ate me from my mouth down. His hand coming down to find my breast again, rolling my nipples between two fingers, twisting, tweaking. Making me arch off the bed towards his touch. He growled against my mouth and moved his hand down to between my legs. His nose nestling into the curve of my neck, then moving down my chest to nuzzle between my breasts. He never could keep away from them for long.

Michel groaned as his face lifted and he drew a deep breath in through his nose.

I wanted this so badly. I wanted to feel what only Michel could make me feel. What I craved, what I pined for. But I became aware that this was no longer available to me and never would be again.

I came to lying on the bed in my Copacabana apartment, Avery fully dressed off to the side and looking decidedly irate. And no Michel. The ache was all consuming.

I had wanted to feel something other than the pain and heartache I'd been consumed in. I had wanted it all to go away and only feel bliss. I had allowed Avery's mind manipulation free rein. I'm not sure if a part of me had known it wasn't true. I'm not sure, because all I wanted was for it to
be
true. I wanted to forget reality and only float in the pure ecstasy of that moment in my mind. I realised Avery had used the illusion to control me, to hold me in place until he could fully recover from my blast of Light. He had fought back like any vampire would. And I felt like I had let him. For the few moments that the illusion played out in my mind, I
had
forgotten. And I didn't fight back.

But for what good? The moment the illusion was shattered it all came tumbling back so much worse than before.

I glared at the vampire standing across the room from me; anger, despair, guilt stampeding through my mind. Then without pausing, I half stumbled, half crawled to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind me, pushing the lock closed despite the fact that it wouldn't hold Avery out. Then fell to the floor by the door and screamed.

My body ached. Physically, emotionally. Completely. My stomach was turned upside down. My heart cleaved in two. My head pounded and the world blurred and all I could do was scream. I hated this. I hated feeling so weak and destroyed and useless. I wanted Michel back so badly. I wanted his body to cover mine, his hands to brush my skin. His lips to kiss me. I hated that I had become easy prey to the vampire on the other side of the door. And, I realised with dawning horror, how much easier it was going to be for fairies to do exactly the same thing.

They would use my deepest desire against me. And I would gladly let them create that moment of falsehood, simply to have another second with Michel.

I always keep a weapon in each room. I have a butchers block of sharp knives in the kitchen. My stakes and silver knife in the main room. And in the bathroom, I have a dagger. I opened the cupboard under the sink, reached in beneath the towels stacked there and pulled the dagger out. I ran my finger down the edge of the blade. It wasn't as sharp as my silver knife. Or the kitchen knives either. But, it would do.

I settled down on the floor, my back to the cupboards and took a deep breath in. I had responsibilities. I am the Prophesied. I have the power to close the portals and stop the Fey. I even have three vampires in my line I am responsible for. Not that I had shown them much care or attention lately. I had people relying on me to do what needed to be done.

But, I couldn't do it. I was failing. I was alone and lost and so very tired of fighting the despair all the time. I shut my eyes and tried to talk to Nut. Asked for her forgiveness. Prayed that she would find someone else to fill my shoes. Someone more worthy, like Amisi. I'd always thought that Amisi should have been the chosen one. Not me. Nut didn't answer. I didn't even feel her Light. I think that's what did it. It made me realise she couldn't help me through this, I was truly on my own.

If your own goddess, the mother of your people, can't save you, then who can?

I took hold of the dagger in both shaking hands and pressed the tip against my chest, above my heart. I could have tried to slash my wrists, but bleeding out takes time. And besides, I know exactly where to place the tip of a knife to get to the heart unhindered.

Michel, I'm coming.

The door to the bathroom crashed open and I only had time to think,
not again, you bastard,
before the dagger was whacked from my hand and Avery hauled me to my feet before him. He shook all over, his eyes now not only filled with jade but rimmed in red.

“I will not lose you, Ms. Monk,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “If I have to glue your arse to mine every second of the day to keep you alive, I will.”

I shook my head and let the tears roll down my cheeks. “Let me go, Avery. Please. I can't do this anymore. Please.”

He looked at me, so full of anger and rage at what I had attempted to do. And slowly, replacing those emotions; compassion, understanding. Sadness. None of which I had ever thought I'd see in Avery Rousseau.

He pulled me into an embrace and kissed my head.

“Luce,” he said simply. I'd never heard him use my nick-name before. “Let me help you through this.”

By fucking with my mind, I thought.

He sighed. "You need to learn to protect yourself against this type of attack," he replied, clearly having heard my thoughts. It figures he'd be in my head. My shields were shattered and my mind was a riot of shouted words.

I sagged against him, unable to fight even him. His hand ran though my hair, petting me, comforting me, like a brother would a sister. Just right. Maybe I
could
lean on him. Probably not, given his nature. But, I could try for a while. Michel would want me to. He wouldn't want me to give up. To stop fighting. To turn my back on all that was left for me to do. And I really didn't think I could do that alone anymore.

God damn you Michel. Why did you leave me so alone?

Avery sighed again, but continued to stroke my head. After a while he released me and made me perch on the bench, while he checked the bathroom over with a fine tooth comb. No doubt looking for further weapons and then started a bath. He turned and looked at me. No emotion showing on his face. Hazel staring out behind those lashes.

“I'll be in your head, Ms. Monk. So, don't try anything, or you're likely to find yourself on beach in the south of France, working on your tan. Have a bath and then come out and we'll talk.”

He left, the dagger clutched in his hand and closed the door softly behind him.

The relief of finally being able to pee washed all other emotions away briefly. Then the warm water of the bath managed to soothe the rest. I let myself drift off to sleep, my head resting on the edge of the bath as my body floated in the water.

I didn't dream. I didn't think of anything. But when the water started to cool and I woke up again, I felt a little better. Not whole, still so very empty, but enough of a shell of a body to be able to get on with life for now.

Avery was once again picture perfectly coiffed when I ventured out into the room. He looked up from where he had been sitting on the couch and watched me as I straightened the bed covers and then traipsed to the kitchen in search of food. After coffee and a quick sandwich I sat down on the edge of the bed and forced myself to look at him. His eyes met mine and held them. Neither of us moved an inch.

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