“Is that an agreement that you will join as soon as possible and aid us in our war?”
I thought I already was aiding in a war. A war with the Dark and the Light. But, the Champion had never been too concerned about evil versus good. No, her emotional investment was in the survival of her race. With the portals open and the Fey pouring in, many vampires would die. She needed my power to somehow close the portals. I didn't know how and I sure as hell didn't really care, but if she would just get off my back and leave, I'd worry about it later.
“It means I'm open to suggestions.” I might be bereft right now, but I'm not dumb.
She laughed a little bitterly. “Perhaps, I can entice you with someone who may appeal.” She clicked her fingers and I waited for something magical to happen.
It didn't. But Gregor appeared at her side. “You called, Champion?”
“Yes. Test her with the name of her kind,” she commanded, her eyes not leaving me.
Gregor looked uncomfortable, uncertain how to proceed. Gregor and I had been intimate once, but we had both moved on. He had found Amisi and I had realised that no one could exist for me but Michel.
“What are you waiting for? We haven't got all night. I would like to get out of this God forsaken backwater and return to civilisation before the week is through.” The Champion had never really warmed to the Antipodes.
“With all due respect, Champion. I am not her kindred,” Gregor said in a level voice, his shoulders rigid waiting for the snake to strike.
“You are my Enforcer, are you not?”
He nodded stiffly.
“Then I should think this would fall under your job description. I wish to enforce this Nosferatin, before we lose her to something else. Lucinda is the key.”
In my former life, I would have fought back. Even with the all-scary, all-powerful leader of the Iunctio, I would have given her a run for her money. Instead I just stood there and waited for them to all get the hell on with it and leave me the hell alone.
Gregor flicked a look at me and the pain I saw in his face almost made me care. Maybe it was pain for what he was about to do. Commit us both to a joining we no longer wanted. Maybe he was thinking of Amisi and how he was about to give her up. Or maybe he was feeling pain at my thoughts. At my heartache. At my despair.
It didn't matter, because he was saved from taking that fateful step by Avery.
“Allow me, Champion, if the Enforcer is so bashful.”
The Champion's face lit up with glee, like a child about to be given an ice cream. I frowned at her reaction, remembering Michel saying that Avery had been disowned by the Iunctio due to his behaviour and actions in the past. It seemed the Champion was not of the same opinion as the rest of the council.
“By all means,” she said, a little breathlessly.
Avery turned to face me and stepped a little closer. My Nosferatin training prevented me from backing away and showing fear, but my mind was reeling. Back-peddling at an alarming speed. He probably would have seen the confusion and alarm on my face, I wasn't keeping that neutral mask in place nearly as well as I should have been. Or he was reading my mind.
“Ms. Monk,” he said calmly and took hold of one of my now cold hands in his. “This won't hurt,” he whispered, “little Nosferatin.”
His Sanguis Vitam slammed into me and I buckled at the knees, falling directly into his arms. His face came down to within an inch of my lips and his hot breath washed over my skin.
“I think we can safely say that we are compatible,” he said, loud enough for the Champion to hear.
She stood up and said, “Good. Make it so and don't delay. I want news of your joining within the week. We will have her power back or we will fall. It's as simple as that.” She leaned over both of us and whispered, “You do this, Avery and you will have your old position back.”
With that she disappeared. The Keeper followed quickly behind her and the Ambrosia not long after that. But, he did catch my eyes just before he vanished, I think his may have mirrored mine; so sad and full of grief.
Avery continued to hold me on the floor while Michel's vampires returned to their celebration of his death.
It was over. Michel was gone. And unless I did what the Champion wanted, I would be running for my life. I allowed myself the luxury of that thought for a moment; defying her and making them hunt me down. But, as much as I wanted to join Michel, I am a vampire hunter by birth. I can't switch that part of me off. It's ingrained, written upon my soul. I will always stand on the side of Light. I will always be drawn to help the Dark. And no matter what I pined for, what I wanted above all else, I would always be the Prophesied.
I am the Sanguis Vitam Cupitor. The Prohibitum Bibere. And the Lux Lucis Tribuo. I couldn't hand it off to someone else. It was all mine.
And I didn't have it in me to fight anymore.
But, I could do my job from anywhere in the world. I could do it whilst on the run.
I stood up slowly with Avery's assistance and took one last look around the room. The vampires I had come to call my family. The club which was a second home.
Doug the barman was there, serving drinks with his supernatural speed and a shining smile. Shane Smith's bright white curly head of hair stood out in the corner, conversing with a group of visiting vampires. He's the liaison for all new vamps joining the line. I didn't think these were new and the line no longer existed, although talk of Jett taking over was in the wind. But Shane liked to make visitors feel welcome. He was just that kind of guy. Gregor was in the corner with Amisi, head to head talking of something only they would want to know. Marcus and Matthias were slamming back tequila. I guess they were taking the whole celebration thing to the extreme. And Jett was watching it all with his fierce eyes and crooked nose and loyal heart of gold.
I would miss them, but not as much as I will miss Michel. Michel was a missing part of my very heart and soul.
I took a deep breath in and sent a jolt of my Light out through the room. Just enough to give them happiness, a sense of wellbeing, of being cherished. And maybe, because I can't really help it, a little euphoric bliss.
I turned my back on them all, while they recovered from my blast and walked right out of Sensations and right away from my life.
I had two silver stakes and a silver knife on me. My dancing dragon necklace hidden under the top of my dress. My passport and the last of my savings.
Plus a ticket to South America on a 4am flight.
Chapter 1
Rio
The sun was just dipping below the horizon, casting its golden glow across the pristine white sand and letting the night life know it was time to come out and play. Not that some hadn't already started early. They didn't need the dark to envelope the sky before they started to celebrate life. I'd been pouring Caipirinhas non-stop since four this afternoon. Rum mixed with sugar and lime and coupled with an over exposure to the sun can have disastrous effects on humans. The group in the corner - farthest from the bar thankfully, but not far enough away - were making a right spectacle of themselves.
Bikini clad females and bare chested males were dirty dancing on the tables. And they all made me feel over dressed in my too short shorts and cropped singlet top. And way too sober as well. What I wouldn't give to get drunk. But, I was working and although my shift at A Praia Mocambo - literal translation The Beach Hut - was due to finish in little over one hour's time, my work would not be done.
No, from ten at night until four in the morning, I would be hunting.
This had been my routine for the past seven weeks. I'd start at four each afternoon at the beachside bar on the Copacabana, stash my little black barmaid's apron at ten and swap it for a sleeveless jacket with two silver stakes hidden inside. My silver knife was in a holster at my hip. That I wore even when serving annoying drunk tourists and over zealous locals at the bar. It's not uncommon to go armed in Rio de Janeiro, so my knife was an acceptable accompaniment. My stakes not so much. Well, not until the vampir
es came out to play.
Monday to Sunday, four in the afternoon until four in the morning, I would be busy. Rio is a popular tourist resort and Copacabana a Mecca for those on the prowl. Both human and the Nosferatu. The humans just want to have fun. Drink their limit, flirt to the extreme and hopefully get lucky. The vampires just want blood. Well, blood and a little sex on the side. And because this is South America, practically fallen off the Iunctio's radar, then the chances of a vampire's lust spilling over from blood and sex to something more nefarious, such as death, is high.
I take care of the humans' desires. Well, at least I serve them the booze, they can look after the rest. And then when I knock off at 10pm, I look after the Nosferatu. I'm a vampire hunter by birth, it's what I do. When a vamp chooses to feed off an innocent, a Norm who doesn't consent, then they have to answer to me. Usually, vamps are fairly well behaved. They've had to be, otherwise detection would have been too easy over the years. But, Brazil and all of South America in fact, is different. The Iunctio has not been able to get a handle on the situation. So, vampires who want to fly outside of the rules come here.
And they feast. Man, do they ever feast.
Back in New Zealand I'd be lucky to stumble upon a Dark vampire every couple of days or so. Here, I'm taking down at least two per night. Sometimes more. It's been good. Cathartic even. I've needed to keep busy. I've needed a goal. And I've made the cleaning up of Rio's streets my sole purpose in life.
Oh, and that of fulfilling my role as the Prophesied. But, that's just a side issue. I can balance out the Light in Dark vampires any time. Sooner or later they will all come to me. And when they do, I'm ready. A little flash of my inner Light and they get a choice. Good versus Bad. Dark versus Light. If they choose wrong, I stake them. If they mend their ways, I let them head off into the night.
The Prophesy I am a part of says: The Light will capture the Dark and will hold it dear. I am the Light. The one Nosferatin born to balance the world. It's the one part of my life that actually makes sense at the moment.
When I first came to South America I spent a week travelling from one over populated city to another, laying false trails, setting up time dependent traps for those who hunted me. I may be a hunter by birth, but I am also very much prey. For the next six months anyone trying to find me will be led on a wild goose chase courtesy of some friends I made when I first arrived. It cost me my entire savings, but it has been worth it. For two months now I have been unhindered. I am starting to even feel safe.
Rio is a big place and even though I work, live and hunt in Copacabana, there's a lot of shadows to hide behind. I'm good at blending into the Dark. I feel at home in the shadows even if I abhor them.
But, I know sooner or later they will catch up with me. Because not only am I the Prophesied, I am also a little unique as far as Nosferatins go. Unjoined, but a mature Nosferatin with all of my joined powers still intact.
When Lutin reversed my joining, he denied the Iunctio my powers. With the portals to Álfheimr opening, the Iunctio need my power back, in order to close those portals.
I am not so sure. In fact, I am pretty much adamant myself, that I will not join with another. Hence, hiding out in an Iunctio dead spot for the past two months.
“Aquele testamento ser dez real, por favor.” I pushed my fiftieth Caipirinha towards the guy across the bar from me. He was one of the barely-dressed hotties from table fifteen.
My Brazilian Portuguese is not perfect, but I'm learning. Besides, most of my customers are Brits or Yanks. With the odd Aussie thrown in. The fact that I could speak English was actually why my boss hired me. That and I can handle a bar brawl or two.
I shoved his note in the till and watched him sway and stagger back towards the group. They'd all flake out before too much longer and go sleep it off on the beach. Not the safest of spots. Vampires aren't afraid of the sand.
“Busy night, huh?” A deeply masculine voice came from over my shoulder, behind the bar.
I spun and smiled at my boss's son, Gabriel. He's about twenty-eight years old, short thick black hair, tanned and well defined body and a sweet innocent smile. He kept me at arms' length for the first two weeks I worked here. I'm guessing it was because of the wedding ring I wear. I won't ever take it off. But when no one showed up claiming me or the ring, he grew bolder. I don't mind. A little flirting never hurt anyone. Not that I have any desire to take it further, but if I ever did get myself back in that saddle, a human male would be my choice. I've had it with the supernatural. I need normal. I need a Norm.
Tonight, however, like every night before it since I left my life in New Zealand, is not the night to jump back in the saddle.
“Keeps me out of mischief,” I answered and started wiping down the bar.
“And when you knock off in...” he looked at his watch and whistled, “fifteen minutes, will you get into mischief then?”
“Always.” I winked at him and went out to clear a few tables.
I could feel his eyes on my back the whole time I scooted between drunks and happy, cheery tourists. The whole time it took me to wipe twenty-six tables and return the empty bottles and glasses to the kitchen. It would do him no good. He starts his shift at 10, right when I finish mine. And then, the mischief I was going to get up to, involved a silver stake and an undead heart. Or two. Certainly not what Gabriel would have had in mind.
I returned to the bar and stowed my apron, pulling my black vest out from the same spot. It was heavy, that was the stakes, but once I had it on you wouldn't be able to tell there was a weapon of death underneath at all. I'd had to make it myself. My normal jackets were just too hot for Brazil's late summer. I was pleased with the result. I could hunt and still look harmless. Although, the knife at my hip did manage to send a don't-fuck-with-me message to the Norms.
“You sure you don't want to stop for a drink, Luce?” Gabriel asked. He asks it every night.
And every night I answer, “Maybe later I'll stop by.” I never do. Later I'll be hunting and after that I'll sit and stare out of my apartment window and wait for the sun to rise. Praying that my heart will one day heal.
I vary my hunting routine every night. Sometimes I head inland towards the shops, hotels and restaurants. Others, like tonight I start on the beach. I don't just go out looking for trouble, it will find me. Or at least, the pull will. When I feel it, I just follow that tug which leads me directly to a vampire about to feed off an innocent and reeking of Dark. For a while there, I contemplated just hunting willy-nilly. Find any old vampire out on the town. My anger was so great that I was almost blind to it.
The first time I followed my nose and not my pull, and killed a vampire who was not all Dark, I felt a piece of me break off and die. It was tempting to do it again the next night. To slowly kill myself that way. But, somehow, I don't really know how, I found my way out of that pit of despair. Maybe, it was Gabriel, he called on me the very next day - the first time he had ever done that - and took me to meet his sisters. He has six of them. All loud and boisterous and loving and full of life. And Light.
For humans they were extremely full of Light. I'd never noticed Light in a Norm before, so I'm guessing they've got some Nosferatin in their blood. But, I have yet to see a Nosferatin hunting the streets in Rio like me. That morning spent with his family though, seemed to flick a switch in me. It righted something inside, or maybe just reminded me of who I was. I am not a heartless killer. I am not a goddess who metes out someone's fate. I am a vampire hunter. I hunt the Dark.
I never thanked Gabriel for that visit. He's never done it again since. He's never had to.
I'd made it about five hundred metres along the beach, white sand spraying over my flat strappy sandals, the gentle wash of waves beside me keeping me calm, when I felt the first pull of the night. It never did take long. The sun went down at about eight here and by just after ten the first hungry vampire would strike. I'd had one strike before the end of my shift and had to beg off sick to get away, but lu
ckily it hadn't happened again. So there was no need to lie more than I already had to Gabriel and his dad.
I started heading in the direction of the pull. I call it my evil-lurks-in-my-city pull. At the moment Rio is my city. Every Nosferatin has that pull. The vampire was off the beach, up near the Copacabana Palace Hotel. A beautiful white moulded concrete building, eight stories high. A bit like a wedding cake. All blocky and regal and pure. The streets behind it would be ideal for a vampire on the hunt.
I made a mad dash across the Avenida Atlântica, dodging traffic and ignoring pedestrian road rules and skirted the side of the hotel. Squeezing between a bus and a delivery truck and picking up my pace on the other side. Usually I can make it to a vampire before he strikes. There's just something about our hunting skills that allow us to get going before the vampire does. It's handy, I gotta say. Without it and considering the size of the area we have to cover, it would be a lost cause.
I rounded the rear of the white behemoth that is the hotel and found what I was looking for. A Dark vampire about to feed off a lost tourist. I could tell the victim was a tourist by the look of his backpack hanging off one arm and the camera dangling round the front of his neck. It never fails to amaze me that tourists don't try to blend in. It's not just the vampires you have to watch out for you know. Humans can be just as Dark. A tourist who stands out might as well have a sign above his head saying: Pick me!
“Hey!” I shouted and heard my words bounce off the walls all around us. Normally I don't give them a heads up, but this guy looked like he was in a hurry to feed.
The vampire spun toward me, wrapping a dirty looking hand around the startled and frightened neck of his catch. He wasn't squeezing too hard, but the tourist had enough for one night and started squealing like a scared little piglet.
“Calm down!” I shot at the tourist, hoping he spoke English, then to the vampire said, “Inglês ou Português?”
He snarled and showed me a nice set of lengthened fangs. His blue eyes turning an unattractive purple. A result of an angry red mixing in with the blue. Michel had blue eyes. When he got excited, for whatever reason, they'd turn first indigo, then amethyst, then magenta. This guy's eyes were a pale imitation. But, close enough to make me gasp.
Shadow's Light Page 2