kindred 08.6 - blood enchanted

by Nicola Claire

  But the fight in me had left now. Not because of his bite, but because I knew when I was beaten. My father would send more than just Alain next time. Alain had entertained me, fought because he knew I needed an outlet for my rage. He was being considerate. The next vampire - or vampires - my father sends would not be so accommodating.

  "A draw," I mouthed, the words like tar coating my throat and shutting off air.

  He chuckled. It sent ripples of movement through my frame, making me realise how close he still was. Chest to chest, almost cheek to cheek.

  "A draw?" He contemplated that for a second or two, then added, "I guess we landed equal blows." Humouring me again. My Sigillum flashed a deep red. Alain blinked slowly, not missing the colour change and significance it meant. "Of course, we both know my bite counts as greater points, arena rules or not," he murmured, only loud enough for me to hear.

  "Then in that regard," I whispered back, leaning in slightly, lowering my lashes and receiving a satisfying in-draw of breath from Alain, "my stake should level the score."

  The silver bit into his chest. He blinked, flashed fang lazily, and then leaned in farther, making small whorls of smoke rise up off his skin as it burnt.

  "A vampire hunter and her stake can be separated easily. Hardly an argument for intrinsic behaviour."

  Again, debatable. Had I not been wearing my holstered stakes, I would have used a piece of broken rebar or snapped joist instead. Not silver, so not a death blow, but incapacitating all the same. I cocked an eyebrow at him.

  "Would you like to test that theory?" I purred.

  His hold on my body tightened, I watched, stunned, as he swallowed visibly. Dear Goddess, it was not because of the threat. A level one Sanguis Vitam vampire does not baulk at such a challenge. But I had fallen for his reactions before. I would not now.

  "Call it a draw, Alain. Or we fight until one of us is unconscious. And then see how soon my father will be receiving me."

  He stared at me for a moment, his breaths a little faster than I would have expected. Vampires are strange creatures. Power, assertiveness, cunning. It turns them on. Regardless of the one conveying those emotions. I doubted Alain was attracted to me in that regard. I had been his master's daughter for too long. A child in his ancient eyes. I was not a woman to covet. Not even a kindred Nosferatin to covet until my father willed it so.

  But right now he was a millisecond away from making a move he would regret. I stayed still, unmoving, holding my breath. Willing my Sigillum to find a shadow of that peace he'd instilled in me from before.

  Nothing to see here. Nothing to want.

  He licked his lips, leaned in a fraction farther, making the stake, I still held against his chest, sink deeper. He snarled, crimson coating his eyes briefly, then disappearing to that deeper blue. A smile curved his lips, the tip of his fangs visible through the movement. He blinked, pulled back and released me.

  For a split second I felt the loss of heat. But awareness of those watching soon doused the memory of Alain's flames.

  "A draw," he murmured, his eyes coasting over my body from head to toe. When they reached my face they lingered on my lips.

  I'd inadvertently awoken something in Alain today. Something we would both pay for dearly, I was sure.

  "Come, Bébé," he said, knowing the nickname he used for me would return my earlier foul mood.

  I almost thanked him for it. This was familiar ground again.

  "A car awaits to take us to your father," he added, starting to walk toward the edge of the courtyard.

  I stared after him for a second, then sucked in a deep breath and cleared my head. Now was not the time to create more problems for myself. I'd pretend none of this happened, at least until I found Luc, destroyed Hakan Bahar for attempting such an unconscionable act, and faced my joining day. I still had two weeks up my sleeve.

  But did Luc?

  On that disturbing thought I jogged over to Gavin to retrieve my jacket and sword. He stood shuffling from foot to foot, excitement bubbling up inside him and pouring over the concrete at his feet. I could almost see it, he was consumed in elation.

  "He got you good, Ellie," he said under his breath, as he handed back the sword and sheath for me to dress.

  "I got a few decent shots in too," I pointed out.

  "Yeah but, Ellie, he bit you."

  I ground my teeth as I tested the sword to make sure I could draw it smoothly. I reached for the jacket he held before answering, giving myself time to curb my tongue. Gavin was young and enthusiastic, and like most of the Norms in the wharves, enamoured with vamps.

  "My stake was a moment away from vampire dust," I managed eventually.

  "Tell yourself that, Ellie," Gavin said with a smirk, making sure to step back out of reach as he did it. "But me and everyone here saw the way your mark lit up like a firecracker when he sank those big beauties home."

  Fuck! If I could cut the damn thing out of my skin I would, but I feared it went deep enough to hit bone. And any healing I ever did at the site of my Sigillum, tended to return the design to perfection too. Not a good indication of being able to excise it from my life.

  I smiled, it was another of those borderline evil ones that teenagers should not have to see close up, but Gavin could handle it. Hell, he had one of his own on tap when needed.

  "Spread the word, Gavin," I said softly. "I let the vampire bite me."

  He frowned, shook his head and took a further step back.

  "Why'd ya do that, Ellie?"

  I flicked my hair out from beneath my collar and settled my jacket on my shoulders at last. Fully armed, fully clothed. The only things on display were those I wanted to be seen.

  I leant down, bringing my eyes to his level and said, "He is my kindred Nosferatu." I hated the words even as I used them to further my goal. "If any vampire out there wants to challenge that, they should think twice. I have already chosen."

  It was a risk and a lie. But something told me that Hakan Bahar would have eyes on this courtyard and would already be aware of what had gone down. And there was something in the way he had looked at me at Reggie's last night. Something that told me he was after more than just my brother. More than just my father's anger at history long forgotten.

  This was personal. I'd seen it in those hungry silver and ice-blue eyes. Personal and pertaining to me. I'm not sure how I knew that, but since maturing I've had an unsettling feeling inside my stomach, growing day by day. Filling me up and coating me in an unusual sensation of anticipation mixed with despair. I haven't figured out what it means, what each emotion connected to this gut deep feeling represents. For days I have wondered about it, but have been unable to figure this new development out.

  It was a talent, of that I was sure. A Nosferatin power gifted me by our Goddess Nut at the time I turned twenty-five. I just had to decipher it, learn what it meant, how it could be used. I didn't have the answers yet, but when I laid eyes on Hakan Bahar it had swelled, turned over inside me in a delightful sensation of expectation and promise, then settled into a humming of patience and desire.

  I hoped it was a desire to kill the vampire who had trapped Luc for, I was certain, nefarious reasons.

  But a part of me knew the truth even if my consciousness refused to acknowledge it yet.

  Hakan Bahar was meant to come into my life, and I think it was meant to be now. Right when I matured. Right before I joined. Why?

  I shook my head, offered a fist for Gavin to punch, and then turned and flashed across the courtyard to where Alain had been waiting, leaning nonchalantly against a crumbling brick wall. Legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded casually over his broad chest. Deep blue studying my every move and unlikely to look anywhere else for some time to come.

  "Spreading rumours, Bébé," he murmured, as he straightened and fell into step beside me.

  "Laying a trap, Patron," I threw back with a wicked grin.

  He didn't say anything until we slipped into the waiting limousine; blacked
out windows, human driver, a license plate that depicted it as one of my father's: PLAZA1. He didn't go for cutesy titles, my father was a perfunctory man.

  The door shut and Alain visibly relaxed, safe from the sun at last. As the car pulled away from the wharves he turned toward me, sitting sideways on the rear seat.

  "Now," he said, voice all business. "Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on with Lucien? Or do I really have to take you before your father?"

  Bastard. He'd done it again. He'd tricked me and I'd fallen right for the trap. Before I could open my mouth to snarl back at him he moved. Pulling me flush against his body as his hands wrapped around my frame; one splayed flat on my back at the base of my spine, the other tipping my head over sideways with fingers fisted in my hair. His face nuzzled into my neck, his fangs scraping the skin and drawing blood.

  He'd managed the move in less time it took for me to suck in a breath. So fast. So uncomprehendingly quick. I hadn't stood a chance.

  He'd let me land those blows in the courtyard. He'd let me believe I held my own. But Alain Dupont had been hiding his strength and powers for some time I'd guess. From me. From everyone.

  I just wondered if he'd been hiding them from my father as well. And if he had, then he was more dangerous than I had ever considered before. That new ability deep inside my centre stirred. Stretched its head and gazed around, alert. Waiting.

  For what, I did not know.

  But it was about time I started to figure it out, because something told me I needed all of my talents and skills to solve this puzzle.

  First Hakan Bahar. Now Alain Dupont. Could my life get any more complicated?

  5

  Hello, Nosferatin

  "Do you think I don't know you," Alain whispered, hot breath against the healing skin on my neck, "Nosferatin."

  My fingers curled on his shoulders as my Sigillum, still hidden beneath the sleeve of my jacket, burned. It had only ever burned once before; when Alain used his Sanguis Vitam to test our kindred compatibility. If a Nosferatu knows how, they can use their power when saying the name of our kind. The reaction we give is indicative of the strength of kindred joining to be expected.

  I didn't need to know what colours my Sigillum would be spinning right now. The burn told me my reaction to Alain had not changed in five years. The colours would be vibrant... and telling. Rich mauves, deep crimsons, lush greens, vibrant yellows, and chilling blues. Every emotional response I could have displayed in a dizzying array of swiftly turning colours. The only other time my Sigillum displays such an awesome show is when I channel my Light.

  Power.

  My joining to Alain would be powerful. My father had beamed at the time, elated with the prospect of his daughter finding a compatible kindred he not only trusted, but believed would provide for me in a way a Nosferatu understood best.

  Power.

  My mother, in contrast, had looked sad. Whether she argued the betrothal or not, I don't know. If she did, it was behind their closed doors and my father won.

  I knew why she was sad, because I felt it too. I didn't swoon when Alain tested our compatibility. I didn't mould myself to him or offer a sigh of content. And I didn't defend against him either. The pulling of a stake is always a bad sign when kindred test their connection pre-joining. But I couldn't even respond in that way. I just flashed colours, every freaking colour of the rainbow, mimicking my most powerful tool; Light.

  Power. We would have it to spare, Alain and I. For what strengthens me, will strengthen my kindred Nosferatu. Alain would become powerful too. My father wasn't alarmed at that prospect. He trusted Alain with his - with my - life. I wondered if it was a blind faith.

  "Damn you, Dupont," I managed to get out between gritted teeth. Testing of a kindred joining was not to be undertaken lightly. Yes, we already knew what ours would entail, but to repeat the action in such a cavalier attitude was disrespectful.

  To the joining. To me.

  I pushed against his chest, he shifted back. Hard to tell if it was my own strength or his willingness to comply.

  "I merely wished to see if things had changed," he murmured, and for a second I thought I saw contrition on his face. "It would not be prudent to attempt the joining without being certain again."

  He was right, which only grated.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him.

  "You've changed," I said quietly, watching for a reaction.

  "Ah, but so have you, Bébé."

  "I'm just the same old me," I offered, with a shrug of my shoulders. "Just older." A wasted breath emphasising my age to this man.

  "And a bit more battle worn," he added.

  There was that too.

  "Have you been fighting?" he asked, settling back into his side of the car seat, more like the Alain Dupont I had known, than this new unpredictable creature he'd shown me today.

  "Not recently."

  "Because you seek your brother."

  I shouldn't have been surprised he'd known. Alain was the top spy master in the industry. Second in command in the Champion of the Iunctio's personal line. He'd only grown stronger, faster and more devious the longer he'd held that position at my father's side. That could account for some of the increase in speed I saw tonight, but I wasn't certain. And that's what scared me.

  "What have you heard?" I asked, resigned to this conversation now. Berating myself for the foolish notion I could have hidden anything from this man.

  "That you're terrorising ghouls for information on his whereabouts."

  I snorted. It wasn't ladylike in the slightest. It earned me a raised eyebrow in reproach.

  "Terrorising? I broke a couple of fingers. He'll heal the next time he eats."

  "Quite," Alain murmured. Then, "You pulled your sword."

  Ah, that explained it. My sword was used in battle, or in the arena. I tended to go for stakes or my fists out on the streets.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to spill it all, to let Alain in. Let him take over the search for Luc. But I had been raised better than that. My mother's number one mantra. Never show fear. Never give an inch. Always stay on guard.

  Luc had asked her if she still did that with Papa. She'd smiled. It was wistful and full of love and trust and understanding and a hint of the passion she only ever displayed when she thought she was alone with her kindred Nosferatu. It was beautiful. It was the reason why I fought my joining to Alain.

  "Your father and I have an unusual joining," she'd murmured. "It cannot be compared to any other." She hadn't been naive when she’d said that. Their joining had been influenced by many outside factors, including our Goddess Nut, and a very ancient and powerful vampire called the Ambrosia, who was otherwise known as the Father Of Eternal Life.

  For a long time now I have known I cannot have what my parents have.

  But that does not stop me from wanting it.

  "He was reneging on an info exchange," I said instead, as defence for drawing my sword unexpectedly.

  "So you broke three fingers, drew blood on the tip of your sword, and scared a ghoul enough to tattle on you to Frank."

  Ah-oh.

  "He was a cowardly bastard," I muttered.

  "And you have become rash and undisciplined."

  And here was the lecture. Somehow we always ended up in the roles of sanctimonious teacher and reprimanded student.

  As Alain waxed lyrical about maintaining a level of decorum and setting an example for all vampire hunters to attain, I wondered if he ever doubted how our joining would fare. Oh, he cared for me. I knew this. Beyond his title of Michel Durand's Second. It had been Alain who had fetched me when I was sucked in too deeply in the writhing rioting crowd of anti-vampire protesters, having thought it a good idea to gather intel on my own. It had been Alain who had offered a shoulder to cry on when my Prom date - a human, I was going through a I-want-to-be-as-normal-as-possible stage - had stood me up having found out I was connected to the Nosferatu. It had been Alain who had
been the first of my trainers, other than my mother, to draw blood. Teaching me the valuable lesson of pain. He hadn't held back, he'd made me push harder. He’d stood there as tears welled up in my eyes and said, "Éliane, use the pain to focus your rage. Strike back."

  No one had dared harm the daughter of the Champion. But Alain did, because he knew it was a lesson I had to master.

  And now this. Alain finding out about Luc being missing and once again turning up out of the blue to offer.... what? His help? His shoulder to cry on? Or the lesson of drawing blood and using the consequent pain to survive?

  "Are you quite done?" I asked, when he wound down from his tirade, having noticed my blank stare in answer.

  "Not nearly. But I guess it can wait for another day."

  My lips curled in a small smile.

  "How long do you think?" he asked. I understood the question immediately. How long had Luc been missing.

  "One week."

  "Are you sure?"

  "We had a date the night after our birthdays."

  He let a slow breath of air out.

  "You both disappeared that night." He didn't need to say it, I could see the knowledge in his eyes. When our Light flared and our Nosferatin talents were received. This explained his need to retest our compatibility for joining. He'd been concerned by the power on display before Luc and I managed to escape.

  I knew he wanted to ask. I could see the desire in his eyes, a lighter blue imbuing the deeper tone usually there. A smattering of Sanguis Vitam relaying his need to find the answer. What talents had I received?

  Even my mother and father did not know. Strangely they'd allowed me some time to adjust privately. That time would be running out now.

  But I would not tell this vampire before I divulged my secrets to my parents. Even if my father trusted him, I did not.

  "What have you heard?" I repeated my earlier question.

  He didn't repeat his answer of before. "He started fighting in the arenas the night of your party."

  My heart clenched. Luc was not a fighter. He was a politician, a talker, a lover, a smooth operator. He could hold a sword and palm a stake. He was Nosferatin so had inborn skills. But he had not taken to the cut-throat arenas like I had. He supported my desires from afar. I think I could count on one hand how many times I've seen my brother in the stands at a fight.