I smiled up at him and nodded, letting him know from my look alone that I would be right there, by his side, helping him achieve this.
His face softened, he dipped his head down and gently brushed his lips against mine, then pulled back and whispered, "Everything."
Then in a flash he was gone and had disappeared into the night.
It took several seconds for me to turn towards the waiting vampires at my back. Even after all this time, Michel had a tendency to steal my breath away.
The old wooden gate to the Nosferatin house was opened before anyone had a chance to pull the brass bell hanging at its side. A man I had not met before greeted us. I didn't know him, but he definitely knew me. With a bow of his russet coloured head he ushered us inside the gate, through the garden and courtyard, and straight into the house.
Our group came up short when greeted with well over half a dozen Nosferatins in the front room. All of various shapes and sizes, but all matured and therefore joined. I could feel their vampires, their kindred, in a neighbouring room. I allowed myself a brief moment to seek out their Dark, relieved to find we hadn't walked into a trap and that those here were no doubt gathered on Yves' orders, prepared for the battle ahead. Still, they didn't look entirely welcoming.
Some wore expressions of curiosity, some offered a small smile in greeting, but they were all thrumming in Light. Sergei and Natalyia moved forward to back me, Samson immediately stepped up to my right hand side. Even M&M seemed a little on edge. I flicked my glance towards Amisi and Gregor. Amisi had her neutral mask in place, the one she uses when faced with a particularly nasty vampire, but Gregor met my eye.
"I'll leave this up to you, Lucinda. Your call," he remarked, but the flash of silver in his eyes let me know he was prepared for anything. It would only take one word from me and he'd drop the fangs and let the Sanguis Vitam out. I didn't think that was advisable with so many Nosferatins in one room. Not to mention their kindred ready to come when called as well.
"Where is Yves?" I asked, not bothering with a greeting, because none of them had bothered when we arrived.
"He has been detained," a Nosferatin male at the back of the group answered, but despite his position in the heart of those gathered and not at the front, I knew he was the one in charge.
I was pleased the answer wasn't 'he is dead'. Since Yves had rung off from our teleconference I'd been worried Sophie's betrothed kindred had done him in. But I didn't get a chance to let my relief show, or to come back with a pleasing reply, because another Nosferatin spoke.
"Where is Sophie?" I flicked my gaze to the Nosferatin who had asked, noting the physical resemblance to my petite French friend. A male, slight, but athletic in stature - like Sophie - with stunning blue eyes and short brown hair. He had Sophie's nose too. A relation, perhaps the Nosferatin in the generation before hers.
"She is with the Champion," I replied steadily, keeping a neutral expression on my face.
"Is it true she has joined to the Master of London City?" the same Nosferatin asked.
A trickle of unease washed down my spine at the question, adding to the tension I'd already started to feel as soon as we entered the room. There was definitely some anger in amongst the crowd. They'd forgone etiquette, failed to greet two Councillors of the Iunctio correctly, let alone the fact I am their Prophesied, and started barraging me with questions instead.
If Yves was here, despite what had happened with Sophie, he would be fuming mad.
"Yes, it is true," I replied, daring them to take this further. My own anger, at the less than pleasant greeting, starting to swell.
There were a few gasps and some whispered words that were hard to detect, and then finally the Nosferatin who had first spoken stepped between the crowd and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't look pleased. I tensed, ready to release my Light in warning, when the door behind us blew open and Yves strode in. Looking one hundred percent fit and healthy.
I let a relieved breath out at seeing him in one piece. Not to mention that his timing couldn't have been better, things had been definitely heating up.
"Ah, Lucinda. You have arrived," he said pleasantly, offering me a brief bow, as he always did, and stepping up to kiss me lightly on each cheek. "The streets are teaming with ghouls. If Rousseau isn't about to strike, I'll swallow my stake."
He glanced around the room and stiffened, clearly picking up on the atmosphere.
"You've met my Nosferatins, I take it," he said slowly.
"Not officially," I replied with a faux pleasant smile.
Yves was silent for a few seconds. "I see," he said, obviously understanding the situation at once. Then he sighed and ran a hand through his cropped hair, similar to the weary motion he'd made on the screen earlier. "It has been a long night."
"For all of us," I remarked. Damned if I was going to let some bullying French Nosferatins get away with being rude.
Yves swung back towards me, his eyes trailing over my frame. I got the sense that he understood I wasn't well at once too. Somehow he seemed very in-tune with everything around him. He didn't say anything, I was thinking that was for my benefit. He just turned back to his Nosferatins and without warning lashed out with his Light.
Every Nosferatin can command Light to some degree. Usually when dealing with a Dark vampire. On a basic level, our Light calls to the Dark in each Nosferatu. But, not many Nosferatins can manipulate Light like I can. To wash others in its glow, either in pain or in pleasure. I had seen Nero use his Light before, for minor things, like opening a locked door. But Yves' command of his Light right now was impressive. And for the first time I saw how others must view me, when I wield my Light as a weapon.
I reacted instinctively. I'm not sure why. They'd been rude and objectionable, and it had been entirely directed at me. But the moment I realised Yves' Light was about to slam into them, giving them Goddess knows what sort of metaphysical zap, I reached out with mine. I didn't strike Yves, I simply used my Light as a buffer against his. A barrier of bright white standing from floor to ceiling between Yves and his team. I think I was as surprised as the rest of them.
Shocked sounds sprang up from their side of the Light barrier, followed by a smirk forming on Yves' lips. Yet again, he astounded me. He knew I'd react to protect them, it had all been a show to get them back on my side.
I didn't have time to make a snarky remark, because suddenly I felt my stomach dropping out from beneath me. My legs buckled and any food I'd managed to consume threatened to spill up my throat. I swallowed back bile, saw black spots before my eyes and reached out blindly for support. Samson's hand found mine immediately, squeezing gently, as his other arm wrapped around my shoulders, taking all of my weight. Sergei and Natalyia moved in to shield me from the curious expressions of the Nosferatins, and I felt Marcus and Matthias move to cover my back.
But through all of this I was aware I wasn't the only one suffering, although my reaction was far greater than his. Gregor was leaning against the fireplace mantle, his face ashen, his hand rubbing above his chest. He closed his eyes briefly, a look of sheer pain and loss covering his face. Amisi hovered beside him, concern evident in her eyes, her hand resting lightly on Gregor's arm.
But other than a small squeeze of her fingers with his larger ones, he almost ignored her and turned his attention to me.
"Are you all right, Prophesied?" he asked. My official title sounding strange on his lips, but giving me a hint of what I had just experienced.
"Who was it?" I asked, praying it was Avery, or at the very least one of his Councillors who had just died.
"The Scribe," Gregor said, having to clear his throat at voicing the name of the Councillor who had just left the Iunctio Council and this life.
My legs did crumple then, Samson helping me into a chair. I didn't know the Scribe very well, but I knew him better than most. I pictured his shining, long brown hair, that always seemed as though he'd brushed it for hours each night. His immaculate and modern dress, desp
ite being well over six-hundred years old and the historian for the Iunctio. And his powder blue eyes, as they flashed an unusual paler blue, while he offered what little support he could in the Great Dining Hall of the Palais.
No one else had come to my defence when the former Champion decided to play with me. But he did. A vampire I didn't even know, who would have had to suffer her wrath afterwards. And since then, he has always been on my side. And now he was lost to us. Six-hundred years gone in the blink of an eye.
I was panting slightly and tears had started slowly streaming down my face. Samson cradled me in his arms as the Nosferatins watched on with sad looks on their faces. At least that was something, with my defence of them against Yves' 'pretend' attack and my reaction to the death of an Iunctio Councillor, they no longer looked like they didn't want to play 'friends'.
And Gregor's next words proved one more thing too.
"It has begun. The Interrogator is attacking the Palais."
It was time to put my big girl shoes on, and go face my ex-kindred...
...and put a stake through his undead heart.
Chapter 32
The Palais
What greeted us, as we crossed the Pont Neuf Bridge, was utterly unexpected. In the short amount of time it had taken us to get from Monmartre to the Île de la Cité, the Palais had been ruined. I wasn't the only one to stand there in complete and consuming shock, seeing the rubble of the centuries old structure shrouded in a cloud of masonry dust.
I searched in vain for something familiar to turn the bricks and debris into what I remembered of the impressive, but perfunctory, fort-style Palais. Even the enormous, heavily carved, wooden doors were unrecognisable. Bits of wood evident amongst the destruction, but the horrible images they once proudly displayed were gone. Not that I'd miss them. Those carvings of vampires at brutal war had always unnerved me. Exactly what the vampires in the Palais had been going for.
It was difficult to tell, but I was certain that some of that masonry dust was mixed with vampire residue. Dust is dust, even what is left of a vampire when they meet the final death. But the eerie, spine tingling feeling I had, let me know that the dust that continued to doggedly clog the still night air, was full of lost vampires. Avery's or ours, I couldn’t tell, but many lives had been ended here. Not just the symbol of Iunctio power.
"Mon Dieu," a Nosferatin whispered off to my side. Several others adding their expletives to his.
"Can you sense our vampires, Lucinda?" Gregor asked, shifting into command mode, getting us all to focus on the battle and not the devastation that met our eyes. I was certain he wasn't unfeeling about the Palais being destroyed along with an undisclosed number of Nosferatu. A muscle jumped along the edge of his jaw as he spoke, but Gregor was a battle-worn warrior. He knew the fight had only just begun, and losing concentration now could prove fatal.
I let myself sink into that black nothingness I use to seek, and sifted through the number of vampires in the area, homing in on their Sanguis Vitam, both Dark and Light. It would be easy to assume all of Avery's vampires were Dark, but just because he had become so much Darker than before, did not mean those beneath him displayed the same amount of evil. And if any of them were like Viktor Davydov, they could simply not register on my Sanguis Vitam Cupitor powers at all. Although, I was fiercely telling myself, that Viktor was unique.
Despite the possibility of huge loss of life due to the collapse of the Palais, I could still see so many Nosferatu throughout the area. Michel shone like a brilliant beacon, our Bond making him the first I sought, despite not consciously doing so. He was surrounded by vampires, whose signatures I recognised as his. As well as Nero's. Battling against a vampire, whose signature I also recognised. The Diviner. And his vampire guards. I forced myself to move on from that confrontation and seek out the location of all the rest. Michel was more than capable of holding his own against the Diviner. Plus, he had Nero at his side, a formerly well trained Nosferatin, who had recently doubled his Nosferatu Sanguis Vitam by joining with Sophie. I had to believe my interference would not improve their odds.
Still, sweat coated my brow and ran freely down my spine, and my stomach clenched as painfully as my heart. I used every ounce of Nosferatin courage I could call on to continue to seek out the rest. I found the Ambrosia and his group off to the side fighting vampires whose signatures did not appear familiar. No Council member came against him and I briefly wondered if that was due to who he was, or just chance.
I moved on, cataloguing their location and number, continuing my Sanguis Vitam Cupitor search. The Creator and Foreteller were tag-teaming it against the Imposter and Nemesis. Finding them in one group improved my optimism, even though the numbers on the oppositions side out numbered those on ours. Despite the disadvantage, the Creator and Foreteller were just holding their own. Reinforcements would need to be sent their way soon. I relayed that information to Gregor, even as I continued to search for the two vampires I dreaded confronting the most.
Michel had recently increased my mental shields, using some of the Iunctio's combined joining power. So, Viktor Davydov did not scare me as much as he used to. He was still a formidable vampire even without his use of mind manipulation. But I hadn't ruled out the fact that he could manipulate the minds of those around me, turning friend into foe instead. Amisi had probably received the same boost in protection from Gregor that I had from Michel, so I was sure they would be safe. But my vampires, M&M, and Yves' team of Parisian Nosferatins could be harmed. It left an uneasy feeling in the pit of my belly, but for now there was nothing I could do.
Avery, though, did scare me. Not because he is particularly powerful. Not because he has gained access to my mind in the past and could bypass Michel's improved security. But because of his depth of hatred towards me. His unreasonable and irreparable belief that I was to blame for all of his woes. Avery and I may not have been close friends in the past, but because of circumstances, we had been close.
I have never enjoyed fighting someone I have befriended. Who does? But for me there can be no greater treachery than friendship and trust lost.
I could not find the Keeper either, and as yet, I was unsure whose side that vampire was on. I started to feel a little light-headed, when I had been seeking for five minutes or more. When I opened my eyes to inform Gregor of my inability to locate the Keeper, the Interrogator or Viktor Davydov, I thought I had started hallucinating due to lack of blood to the brain. I felt extremely dizzy and the desire to sit down on the ground was so acute, that I leaned against Samson's arm for support in an effort to prevent myself face-planting into rubble.
Which is why I questioned the wings blocking out the moon in the sky. It took precious seconds for me to understand what I was seeing. The time taken to register the meaning much longer than it ever would have been in the past. That fact left me reeling, because a Nosferatin should identify hazards in a blink of an eye. And my skills in that department had improved since rejoining with Michel. But for several seconds the flapping wings above me made no sense at all.
Precious time that could have been used against me. I had guards who picked up any slack I showed, but that did not make me feel any better, knowing I was working well below par right now. Thankfully, the wings were attached to dragons, which meant Sebastian Cole and his Nathair-Sgiathach had arrived. According to Michel, they were most assuredly on our side. He didn't explain further, wouldn't even acknowledge my queries about it in the past, but the dragon shifter's allegiance to the Champion was secure.
The moon's glow silhouetted the large form of a dragon as it landed lightly on clawed feet several metres away. Its twelve foot wide wing span stretching over the road we were standing on, blocking the Palais' rubble and the fighting vampires briefly from sight. I can't tell one dragon from another, but within the blink of an eye the dragon shifted back to human form. Green scales shimmered in a colourful wash of shifting magic, and the enormous shape of a dragon downsized to that of a human man.
&
nbsp; A shifter changing is beautiful, but at the moment I couldn't spare a thought on appreciating supernatural forces and miraculous body changes. We were in the middle of a battle and I couldn't shake the knowledge that as yet Avery and Viktor had not shown.
"Prophesied. Enforcer," Sebastian said with a formal bow, similar to those the vampires effect. "I have twelve of my teaghlach here, ready to assist. The Champion has requested you utilise us as necessary. His belief is that you would be more aware of strategic areas requiring our skill-set."
Michel may be the vampire every one deferred to, but he was not above using those on his side to their best advantage. As the Sanguis Vitam Cupitor I could see where everyone was. Whereas Michel could only sense level one and two Masters, I could see all levels and pinpoint exactly where they were at. Except Viktor, of course. But I was sure it wasn't just my abilities as the Prophesied which Michel was taking into account. By assigning me the task of overseeing strategic locations for attack, he was keeping me out of the fray. I was no longer a front-line warrior. I was back with the generals giving the commands.
Part of me wanted to rebel, but right now my head told me to ignore my heart. Michel needed to fight, he was the Champion, the most skilled and powerful of us all. And he couldn't do that when distracted by me. If I was in danger, his concentration would break. For his safety - and sanity - I had to do as he had engineered. Sneaky vampire.
"All right," I said, taking the reins Sebastian had just handed me. "Let's move further back, we're close enough to garner attention here, and if I'm going to be seeking, I need to be somewhere you lot can defend."
The look on Gregor's face was comical. Bemusement, shock, disbelief and a sudden relaxing of his entire frame. He nodded swiftly, scanned the area behind us and then indicated the Pont Saint-Michel and an ornate white brickwork building just this side of it. The roof of the structure would provide a decent overview of the Palais rubble-strewn end of the island, and take us far enough away not to accidentally get caught up in the melee. I also liked the name of the bridge. It seemed fitting.
Kiss of the Dragon Page 31