Kiss of the Dragon

by Nicola Claire

  "Diviner, what connections do you see?" the Ambrosia finished.

  The Diviner made a show of looking closely at Nero, taking much longer than I think he really needed, just to make us wait. I hated him. I really did. But I hid it.

  "He is unconnected, Ambrosia," the Diviner finally announced, a little bitterly. "Although he shows strong interest in the immature Nosferatin. A solid joining could be found there."

  Sophie flamed red in the cheeks and Nero looked like he could barely contain his elation. The Ambrosia chuckled.

  "Delightful," he said, now rubbing his hands together as though excited. "Exactly what I had hoped." What? That Nero would join with Sophie, or that I hadn't become a threat he'd have to put down? - despite being the Champion's mate.

  "So, you would say, no influences on this Master at all, would you, Diviner?" the Ambrosia asked, turning his ancient eyes to the aristocratic vampire at his side. His face was not grandfatherly any longer, it looked hard and unforgiving. He was making a point.

  The Diviner hesitated, clearly angry at the turn of events. Finally, he mumbled out, "No influences, Ambrosia." His gaze locked on mine and for a moment I saw his hatred. It startled me, because although he had never shown me any favour, I had not expected this depth of enmity before.

  I felt his Sanguis Vitam slam into me in the next instant, an attack that was definitely unwarranted if ever I saw one, and although I could feel it battering my shields, it held no purchase. But slowly a magenta wash bathed the entire room. I realised it was from my eyes. Michel's dragon-within showing his power through my returning gaze. The Diviner flinched slightly, as though I'd burned him. He began rubbing his arms and immediately dropped his face towards the ground.

  The Ambrosia chuckled softly as though to himself. Then in a quiet voice, he said, "Beware the kiss of the dragon, it's as lethal as its flame."

  I swallowed painfully, wanting to be anywhere else but here right then. The Diviner was never a friend, but he was definitely a foe now.

  "Thank you, Diviner," the Ambrosia said loudly, his voice ringing in the high vaulted room. "Your services this evening shall not be forgotten." Another message? "You may go about your business this night."

  The Diviner knew he'd been dismissed as much as we knew he had. And I wondered just how far you could push a vampire like him before he snapped his fangs back at you. Both Michel's dragon-within and the Ambrosia had been pushing very hard tonight. But it wouldn't be them the Diviner retaliated against, would it?

  It would be me and mine.

  Chapter 20

  A Walk Down Memory Lane

  We all stood silently watching the Diviner leave the room. Some of Nero's guards followed to ensure he vacated the building. I realised that at some stage I'd stopped calling Amun by his former vampire name. At some stage I'd crossed a line and started calling him Nero in my head. There would be no going back now without suffering pain.

  My eyes flicked to the Ambrosia, the one vampire who could shed light on all of this, and I prayed to my Goddess that what he told me would be to my liking. No one wants to suffer pain. I think I had suffered enough as far as Nero is concerned. To suffer more now would just be cruel.

  "The world is a cruel place, child," the Ambrosia said softly, reminding me how easily he could read minds. Which made me wonder if he'd read mine earlier, when I'd doubted him. He didn't answer my unspoken words, but I was sure he'd heard them. Instead he took a seat on one of the white couches and crossed his legs. "Perhaps a drink, Master?" the ancient vampire asked pleasantly.

  Nero jumped at the suggestion, probably realising he was failing as a host. Vampires emerged almost instantly, with trays of drinks already poured.

  "Are we celebrating?" I asked, taking a champagne glass as it was offered and simply holding it between my hands. My stomach was queasy again. I was guessing because the Ambrosia was about to rock my world.

  "That depends," the Ambrosia said, taking a slow sip of his own champagne. He smacked his lips together a couple of times, clearly enjoying the vintage or just pushing my buttons. It was hard to tell. "The Master of London City is an independent entity again. That is cause enough for celebration."

  "Viktor Davydov," I said without thinking. I really needed to keep my thoughts to myself. Then I started laughing. There was no way, with the Ambrosia here, that my thoughts were my own.

  The Ambrosia offered me a smile and a wink. It was kind of strange coming from him. Playful, but only in so much as a lion would play with a gazelle.

  "Viktor is no longer in my head," Nero confirmed. "That is indeed cause for celebration." He took a sip of his own champagne, but not before raising it in a salute to me. The movement was purposeful and completely lacked the frivolity of joy. Nero was as much on edge as me.

  "Ambrosia," I began, but he interrupted with a raised hand.

  "I know what you would ask, Prophesied. And it is so. Amun Nadeem is Nero Al-Suyuti."

  I waited for the sucker punch, but none followed. Amun was Nero. Evidenced by the Ambrosia's words.

  "Then I guess the next question is, how?" I asked into the stunned - and relieved - silence.

  "And this is where I must offer conjecture to some degree," the Ambrosia said, returning his half empty glass of champagne to a side table. "It has been millennia since I have seen or heard of this." He sat back in his seat and closed his eyes, as though trying to dreg up memories long forgotten in the eternity of his life. "Your Goddess is benevolent and fair, is she not?" he surprised me by saying.

  "I think so," I replied, my eyes never leaving his frame, but I noticed both Sophie and Nero nod in agreement in my periphery.

  "We are of the same ilk," he said softly, in the same voice he had used when he spoke of his warning to beware the kiss of the dragon.

  I had heard those exact words before, though. Michel had said them when he first told me of what I was. Nosferatu and Nosferatin were once of the same ilk. He couldn't explain it, but I had the feeling the Ambrosia just might.

  But he didn't speak further and for five or so minutes I waited as patiently as I could. But no one would ever say Lucinda Monk is patient.

  "What does it mean, Ambrosia?" I asked and received a roll of his eyes from Marcus. I rolled mine back at him.

  "You must understand," the Ambrosia said wearily. "I am very old. So old that I have lived too many lifetimes. Have too many memories. In order to survive, I have had to... compartmentalise, you might say. Memories of the dawn of time are vague."

  The dawn of time? As in the actual Dawn of Time? I flicked my gaze up to Matthias, he looked as shocked as me.

  "I felt the power change," the Ambrosia announced. "Something I have not felt in a very, very long time. Not many have been deserved of a Twin Soul rebirth. A second chance, you might say. For it to occur certain things must exist. I am hazy on what they are, but it is becoming clearer."

  He paused, rubbed a hand over his face in an action I had never seen the ancient vampire do before. It was very human and it made him look frail. But I knew this vampire, despite his vast age, would never be that. Could never be that.

  "We must all face our demise one day, Lucinda," he said.

  I shook my head. I was used to Michel answering my thoughts, but the Ambrosia and I did not have an intimate relationship. Having him in my mind just felt wrong.

  Sorry, I thought at him. It just is.

  "I understand," he said. Reminding me he liked to answer direct thought-questions aloud. He considered it rude to conduct a conversation non-verbally, when others were around. I kind of understood his position. I didn't think it would stop Michel and I, though.

  "I still don't see you kicking the bucket any time soon," I added. Matthias groaned, Marcus cringed and Sergei swore softly under his breath. Natalyia stifled a giggle-snort. Sophie just looked shocked and Nero grinned from ear to ear. He knew me the best.

  My smile slipped at that. Nero was back. I suddenly wanted to hug him. To hug my friend. Would it be r
ude to stop the conversation right now and run across the room to throw myself in his arms?

  "Go on then," the Ambrosia said, chuckling. I'm not sure if he was chuckling at my last statement or my thoughts, but I immediately felt shy.

  "Um, it's OK. It can wait."

  The Ambrosia just shrugged, in that elegant way older vampires can.

  "Twin Souls," he said, getting the conversation back on track. "Have any of you heard of this?" he asked the room at large. When no one answered in the positive, he went on. "I wouldn't have thought so. As I said, it has been millennia since I last heard of this occurring. It is a very rare event." He turned fully towards Nero, his gaze assessing. "You were a valiant and brave Nosferatin. Powerful as well, I believe."

  Nero didn't confirm or deny it, but he had been the most beautiful hunter I had ever met. In strength and morals. In conviction and dedication to the task. I had seen him do truly miraculous things, that I do not believe all Nosferatin can do. He was epitome of vampire hunter. He should have been the Prophesied. I still don't understand why he was not.

  "That is simple, child," the Ambrosia said, half turning towards me again. "Nut chose you for a reason. Just like she allowed Nero to return with his Twin Soul, for a reason as well."

  I wasn't sure which question to ask first. There were just so many. I needed to sit down, my legs were shaking and my stomach was rolling. I think I was about to pass out. Natalyia was beside me in an instant, assisting me to a seat Sergei had brought closer to us both. I gratefully took the offered chair and allowed myself to show a little weakness. I think for now I could believe I was amongst friends.

  Although I never could fully trust the Ambrosia in the past, like calling Amun: Nero, I had crossed a line where the ancient vampire was concerned. He inclined his head slowly towards me, in acknowledgement of my thoughts.

  "You should take better care of yourself, Lucinda, others depend upon you now," he admonished softly. I waved his concern off with a shake of my hand. I was simply tired from all the emotional events of the past few days. Hell, anyone would be.

  "Twin Souls?" I asked, finally picking one of the questions in my head.

  "Yes, indeed," the Ambrosia replied. "We each have them, of course," he said casually. I wasn't the only one to raise my eyebrows in question. "It is becoming clearer," he added, as though to himself. Then he suddenly perked up. "What came first?" he said excitedly. "The chicken or the egg?"

  I heard Marcus stifle a laugh behind me, and then Matthias's swat of his huge hand on the back of Marcus's head. We all pretended to ignore them.

  "I have no idea," I answered. I was sure everyone was leaving the conversation up to just the Ambrosia and me.

  "The Nosferatin," the Ambrosia answered with a broad smile. "We all come from one Nosferatin created by Nut."

  I had never really considered it. I'd had a hard enough time coming to terms with what I was, let alone where I came from. My father, the parent with the Nosferatin blood, was dead. My uncles, on his side, were now dead too. There was no one in my family to trace back our family tree. But I don't think I was alone in that predicament. Nero looked lost, as did Sophie, just as much as me.

  "The first vampyre," the Ambrosia said, and we all literally sat forward in our chairs expectantly, "was a powerful Nosferatin that died and came back as Nosferatu." His smile turned secretive.

  And I got it. Holy fucking shit, I got it. I stared at him, incredulously. Then I stared at him with not just a little awe. Then I stared at him some more, because words failed me. I was in the presence of the first vampyre ever created.

  Holy fucking shit.

  "No, child. I am not the first." Oh. Big downer there. I sat back in my chair feeling a blush rise up my cheeks. "But my Sire was," he added, again with a wink. "He then went on to create more Nosferatu in the fashion we are familiar with today."

  Oh, wow. That was still kind of cool.

  "What happened to him?" I was thinking battle, maybe killed by a hunter when he finally went bat shit crazy with age, or something. The Ambrosia scoffed at my thoughts. The blush returned with a vengeance.

  "He embraced the sun." The Ambrosia didn't elaborate and I didn't feel my questions on this would be answered.

  So, if the Ambrosia was not the first vampire, why was he called father? His sepia toned eyes lifted to mine and crinkled slightly at the edges.

  "A nickname, nothing more."

  Nut had called him that. Was it a nickname she gave him? His smile widened, so I was going with a yes.

  "Back to the souls," the Ambrosia directed, but his voice was light. He was enjoying this little walk down memory lane. "We each have them. Well those of us not returned, such as Nero do." He turned to look at Nero directly again. "You now just have one."

  "What has happened to my... other soul?" Nero asked.

  "Your Nosferatin soul awaits you in Elysium."

  All my breath left me in a rush. Elysium awaited Nosferatu and Nosferatin. I had never truly known the answer to that question. My father had left me a letter once, mentioning that he and my mother were waiting for me in Elysium, but at that point I only believed Elysium was the final resting place of the vampires - the eternal dead. I did not believe it was the same place I had visited Nut in, where children laughed, playing in a playground in the sky.

  "Elysium is for all of Nut's creatures. Which includes descendants from the first Nosferatin. And those, of course, who choose to love them," the Ambrosia said softly.

  My parents waited for me. Both of them. And now Nero's Nosferatin soul waited for him. I let a little breath out on a laugh. Man, this was freaky.

  "Yes," the Ambrosia agreed sagely. "Freaky." Just like when Michel repeated something I said that sounded alien on his tongue, I laughed. Thankfully, the Ambrosia laughed with me.

  "So," I said, my turn to get us back on track. "Nero's Nosferatin soul has died, but he has returned with his Nosferatu soul intact. How does that work again?"

  "This is where it gets a little complicated, if my returning memories serve me correctly," the Ambrosia said, leaning forward in his seat eagerly. His enjoyment was palpable. He obviously loved a good puzzle mixed with a good history lesson. "As I have said, we each have Twin Souls. A Nosferatu has a human soul and a vampyre soul. However, when they meet the final death, their human soul, which has remained with them throughout their turning and undead life, goes with their twin; their vampyre soul, directly to Elysium. Dark takes over upon turning, upon becoming Nosferatu, and Dark does not allow a further chance at life upon final death."

  "Light creates, Dark destroys," Sophie said softly from the corner, the first time she'd entered the conversation at all. My eyes flicked to her blue ones, surprised to see Nero standing at her side, where she sat. He hadn't been that close before. I smiled at them both instantly.

  "Exactly," the Ambrosia agreed happily, offering her his grandfatherly smile. "With Light, much can be accomplished. Or created. You would do well to remember that, Lucinda," he threw in there, making me jump a little in my seat. Why did he always have to single me out? Why not someone else? "But with Dark," he went on, ignoring my mental ramblings, "much instead is destroyed. A Nosferatu has already lived one lifetime before they are turned, but they have not forsaken that human soul upon becoming a vampyre. They have instead taken on Twin Souls." And that answers the question of whether vamps have souls. They have two in fact. So, no excuse to call them soulless demons then, I guess. "In theory one could argue they are already on their second chance at life. But in reality, the failure for vampyre Twin Soul reincarnation to occur has everything to do with their lack of Light after turning and nothing to do with their former human existence.

  "Now, the Nosferatin," the Ambrosia added, settling into his chair again, getting quite comfortable, I think, "has Twin Souls, but also a chance to live twin lives because of their Light. Unfortunately though, this is not guaranteed. Whereas a vampyre upon final death does not possess enough Light to create a second chanc
e from their Twin Souls, a Nosferatin does. But a Nosferatin only gets a chance at more than one Twin Soul life. It takes power or Light. And lots of it in their Nosferatin life, to receive that second chance."

  I froze in my seat, dreading where he was going with this. I was powerful too. Full of Light. Way more powerful than Nero ever was. And he had always said I was the brightest Light he'd ever met. Did that mean when I died, or Michel died and then my Nosferatin soul died too, I would come back as a vampire?

  I stood abruptly from my seat, fear and panic racing through my veins and thundering in my chest. I didn't want to die. Whoever did, really? But I had always known, that being joined to Michel meant if I died, he'd die and vice versa. And then we'd both be in Elysium together. I could handle death if it meant an eternity with Michel in the afterlife. But if I returned as a Nosferatu to walk this plane, I think I'd lose all hope.

  And being Dark, like Nero was when he came back as Nosferatu. And having forgotten all of my previous life, like Nero did when he came back as Nosferatu. I wouldn't know what I was missing, so I wouldn't do a thing to aid my cause and return to Michel in Elysium.

  The implications were diabolical and I couldn't see an out.

  Because as sure as Nero returned due to his power, I knew I would too.

  And I would lose the one thing that meant the most to me, above all else in the world. Even above my Light. I would lose Michel. My kindred. Possibly for eternity.

  ...I burst into inconsolable tears.

  Chapter 21

  Sealing The Deal

  What...was wrong...with me? I was bawling about a possibility that may never occur. Michel and I could live this life forever. It may be a moot point. But I felt so emotional, so torn up by this prospect. The pain of loss felt real, even though it was just a vague outline in the distance in actuality.