I am a mœðr, apparently, which means mother or mate in fey. I am one of very few human women who are capable of conceiving fey off-spring. As such, I am a potential hot commodity to those fey seeking to father an heir. Fairies have a notoriously low conception rate amongst themselves. Fertility is a huge issue for their kind. It's basically what has fuelled them from the start. Made them venture into out world in search of potential mates. If I bumped into a horny fey, he'd want a little something more than a candle lit dinner and conversation from me, that was for sure.
Then, on top of that, if any fey found me, they would soon provide that information to Lutin, Prince of Ljósálfar. Not only am I a mœðr, I am also, according to him, his elska. Or one true love. A fairy only has one elska in their lives. When they find them, they don't give them up easily. Lutin was no doubt hunting me as Avery had been. Hell, I was just one coveted little piece of arse, wasn't I?
Avery started laughing then and I remembered, belatedly, that he could read my mind. Or at the very least, pluck thoughts at random from it. I wasn't sure how extensive his talents came when dealing with me, but he had the annoying habit of trespassing on my thoughts unannounced.
He pushed a full glass across to me and said, still trying to rein in his laughter, “I think you need this one.”
I didn't argue and just tossed the drink back, relishing the burn this time. And the distraction from his knowing smile.
He tossed his own glass back, still keeping his eyes on me, and then refilled the glasses. That was not a good sign. He obviously had every attention of emptying that bottle. I wasn't sure how I would fare. I'm not much of a drinker. Back home, I'd have the odd Bacardi and Coke, but never more than two. Cachaça is about 48% alcohol. Bacardi, watered down with Coke, is a walk in the park in comparison to that.
“They will discover your hiding place, as I have done,” Avery continued with the conversation as though it hadn't been interrupted by his eavesdropping on my thoughts and a shared stiff drink. “You are not safe. I could help you.”
Help me? Yeah right, because keeping me safe was right up there with letting me go free. What Avery wanted was to slit my palm and then his own, and clasp our hands together, letting our blood bond us in a joining that would double his power and give the Iunctio some of mine. Keeping me safe was not top of the list. Getting my power first would have been.
“They are one and the same,” he answered casually, not even trying to hide the fact that he had been in my mind.
When I didn't say anything, but just continued to eyeball him he added, “I can teach you to recognise fey, before they get too close.”
Now that would be handy. I may be able to sense vampires throughout the world, but the Fey I can't get a complete handle on. I know they are not human, but I can't tell what. A bit like an oculus, I suppose.
“How?” I asked, despite my desire not to show any interest at all.
“I have a talent for detecting fey magic. You would be able to learn, I am sure. Your own talents lend themselves to it. I can teach you to be prepared. You are more than capable of defending yourself once you know what you are facing.”
“Why would you do this?” I couldn't see him doing this out of any kind of generosity. There had to be something he wanted in return.
“Your death or loss from this realm, should a fey take you to Álfheimr, would be detrimental.” Yeah, detrimental to the Iunctio. “The portals are expanding daily, Ms. Monk. It must be stopped.”
“I won't join with you, Avery.” He knew this, he knew I wouldn't fall for his charms.
“And I do not wish to force you.” He poured two new glasses full of Cachaça. “You will come to me of your own accord. By then, the world will be over-run with fey and you will see it as the only possible solution to our salvation.” He pushed my glass back towards me. “To truths and patience.” He drank his drink in one shot.
“To not getting what you want and Hell freezing over,” I said and downed my own glass.
OK, so two glasses of Cachaça had been potent. Three was slightly over the edge. I'm a cheap drunk, so sue me.
He refilled the glasses and I think my stomach did a flip. I couldn't do another shot. I could feel my face flushing, warm tingles brushing over the length of my body, just under the skin. The world was suddenly a little hazy, but at least it hadn't started tipping over sideways just yet. But, I wasn't feeling that heartache. Or sadness or loss. I was happily numb and for the first time in two months, I was happy to be alive.
Alcohol. What a wickedly, wickedly deceptive drink.
“You need me, Ms. Monk. Face it. Your decision to hide in South America was a sound one and you have done admirably. But, I found you and they will find you too. The Iunctio, the Fey. The Russian.” Oh, yeah let's not forget Viktor Davydov. He wanted my arse too. But, more in the killing of my arse, than coveting it. “Let's make a deal. I don't alert the Iunctio to your current location, give you time to come to the conclusion that joining with me is a sound idea, and you entertain me whilst we're here.”
“Entertain you?” I had sudden images of how exactly Avery likes to be entertained and neither of us were dressed in them. “Hey! Get out of my head Plucking Pervert!” Avery could manipulate other's minds. I was picking those images were all his.
He just laughed and pushed another full glass of Cachaça towards me. The bottle was almost empty. “One week, Ms. Monk, here in Copacabana. I teach you to detect fey, you come to the decision to join with me. Or not.”
I looked at the drink and then back up at him. “If I don't come to the decision you want?” I left the question hanging between us.
“Then I shall have to take what I want. What the Iunctio wants. What the world needs if it is to remain safe from the Dökkálfa.” I don't know if he had waited to mention the Dökkálfa, the Dark Fey, right until the end of our little quasi negotiations, but his timing was spot on. I feared the Dökkálfa and what they could do. Hell, everyone needed to fear them.
He pushed the drink closer towards me and sat back to watch. I could fight him now, or I could use him to prepare myself to battle the Fey. I wasn't agreeing to join with him, I was just agreeing to the time-frame and possibility of doing so. I couldn't imagine my desire to not join would change in that short length of time. And, I wasn't ready to leave Rio. Rio had somehow got itself settled in my soul. I was in love with the city already. And it needed me.
One more week. I picked up the drink and took a deep breath in, then slowly let the fire burn its path down my throat. Avery drank his and refilled the glasses.
I don't remember much of the rest of the night. We finished that bottle, alarmingly. Maybe because I was already drunk, or maybe because I was just letting go and letting someone else take charge for a change. To look after me for once. But, I think we may have opened another bottle as well as that first. I'm not sure, but the fact that I let Avery take me back to my studio apartment on Rua Duvivier and the fact that I let him accompany me into the tiny flat, leant itself to the thought that I had consumed more alcohol than was intelligently safe.
I remembered him laying me out on my bed. A double twin that takes up most of the small studio room. I did remember him throwing my jacket over the sofa, then removing my shoes. His hand at my waist as he removed my knife and its holder, then covered me in a blanket. The sound of the wooden shutters closing on the large window above the bed. The window that was the only redeeming quality of the pathetic little hole I called home. The view towards the beach down the street I lived is what sold me on the place. Not the décor or size, that's for sure. And then I heard the sound of the mattress squeaking under his weight as he lay down beside me.
“Go away,” I whispered, realising my head was now pounding and my stomach was churning and the room was on a high spin.
“One week, Ms. Monk. And I'm not going anywhere,” he replied, tucking the sides of the blanket in beneath me, making a cocoon on top of the bed. I realised then, he was on top of the covers
, not beneath them with me. A breath of air escaped my lungs in relief.
“I hope you don't snore,” he said in his deep voice. “Now sleep.”
His command must have been laced in Sanguis Vitam, because the next thing I knew I was dreaming.
Chapter 3
Hunter
Michel was there.
It was the first time I had dreamed of Michel since his death. That set the alarm bells ringing.
Then I noticed where we were, what I was wearing. We were on the hill over looking the lambs on my parents' farm and I was wearing a long, flowing white dress, that wrapped around my ankles and fanned my bare skin beneath.
If Avery was engineering this dream, why would he choose here? Michel knew how important my parents' farm was to me. He'd always known, but Avery hadn't. And I hadn't been thinking of my parents' farm when I fell asleep, so the chances of Avery being able to pluck this memory from my mind, just didn't seem possible.
“You cannot trust him.” The dream Michel's voice sounded remarkably real.
“I know,” I said, allowing myself the opportunity to drink him all in with my eyes.
He looked paler than usual. More gaunt. Shadows were tracing patterns beneath his eyes. He was tired and not well. His shoulder length, near-black hair didn't shine. It usual shone brilliantly to me. If my subconscious had dreamt this up, what was it telling me?
“I cannot stay long,” he said, as he traced a finger down my cheek. His skin was cold. “The portals will be wide open within the week and then nothing will stop them. The Dökkálfa have already broken free. I am doing what I can to stop them crossing, but it may not be enough.”
He shuddered then and looked over his shoulder at something I couldn't see. “I must go, ma belle. Stay strong. And remember,” he started growing transparent, drifting further away, “I will always come back to you.”
I knew I was crying in my sleep. I knew the tears were trailing down my cheeks and pooling on my pillow. But, when Avery woke me with hushed words to soothe, I couldn't remember why.
Somehow I managed to drift off to sleep again and when I woke the room was stuffy and hot and day had definitely arrived. I kicked the blankets off me and lay in the heat of the room, trying to get a handle on what I had dreamt about. I couldn't, no matter what I did to relive the memory. It was just out of reach. My head felt fuzzy, my throat was dry and memories of drinking with Avery last night engulfed me. I groaned and rolled over onto my stomach, only to come in to contact with the vampire watching me to my side.
I yelped and sprang back from his outstretched hand and landed flat on my back on the floor.
“Good morning, Ms. Monk. Pleasant dreams?” Avery's drawl reached me from above and when I opened my eyes he was staring down at me, from on top of the bed. His hazel eyes glowing a soft amber tinge on the edges. His hair was slightly messy, like he had slept the entire time I had too. But, I was betting he didn't have the killer headache I did.
I let my head fall back on the floorboards softly and groaned again.
Avery sprang off the bed, leaping over my body in a fluid motion and came back seconds later with a bottle of chilled water and a couple of aspirins.
“Here,” he said, thrusting both into my hands and walking over to the little two seater sofa a few feet away. He sat down in a lazy glide and watched me with curious eyes.
I swallowed the pills and drank half the water before attempting to sit upright. Leaning against the bed I let my head fall back and closed my eyes as I contemplated just how hungover I actually felt. Crap, but this was not nice. I wondered briefly if I should just be stationing myself in the bathroom near the toilet bowl for the duration of the day. My stomach was not a happy camper.
“How many bottles did we get through?” I asked finally, just to fill the silent space between us.
“One and a bit,” he answered. “The unfinished bottle is on the bench, if you'd like to go another round.”
I clutched my stomach and willed the Cachaça to stay down. After the nausea passed, I realised my top had ridden up and barely covered my breasts. I hastily pulled it back down into place and made sure I still had my shorts on. Yep. Fully dressed, if a little dishevelled and no doubt pale.
“So. You plan on staying here the whole week?” I asked as Avery seemed content to just watch me and not make conversation at all. I needed to have something other than my churning stomach to concentrate on.
“That is the plan.”
“There's not enough room here for two, if you hadn't already noticed.” I waved a hand around at the tiny space that is my apartment. Little more than a four metre by four metre box. A teeny, tiny kitchen and bathroom running off one wall. The window on the other, above the bed. It was clean and tidy, but the paint peeling on the window ledge and the damp stain running down the wall near the ceiling didn't scream high rent.
I was sure Avery would be used to something altogether better than this.
“Do you plan on sharing it with another? Perhaps the oculus stays over on occasion?” Avery asked, casually.
I huffed a breath out in reply. As if I'd share my bed with anyone. Michel had only been dead two months. Hunting wasn't the only reason why I wore all black.
“No?” Avery murmured. “Then there is space for me. You won't even know I am here, Ms. Monk.”
That I hardly believed. He just laughed.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. “I have to go to work in an hour,” I said, struggling to my feet and waiting for the world to stop spinning.
“Do you think that is wise, in your current state?”
“The rent doesn't pay itself, Avery. I need to work, unlike some of us,” I muttered in reply.
He was in front of me in a flash, halting my progress towards the bathroom. “I can take care of all your financial needs, Ms. Monk. You do not need to work.”
“Yes I do,” I replied, swaying slightly to prevent myself from touching him. He reached out and steadied me anyway. His hot hands a brand against my skin. “Let me go, Avery. I need to shower. I'll be OK after that and a coffee. Maybe something to eat. I'm going to work and that's final.”
He stepped back after only a moment's hesitation and let me proceed to the bathroom unhindered.
I felt a hell of a lot better after a hot shower and brushing my teeth and when I came out, fully clothed in a new clean outfit, similar to the one I had on last night, the smell of coffee met me. Avery was trying hard to show he cared. I wasn't sure why he was bothering. We both knew the only thing Avery cared about was himself.
I drank the coffee in silence, not taking the time or effort to thank him, and made myself a sandwich. The aspirin had done its thing and the world seemed only mildly irritating. So, ten minutes to four I slipped into my jacket after sheathing my knife at my waist and headed for the door.
“I cannot protect you until sundown,” Avery said from the corner of the room where he sat preternaturally still.
“I don't need your protection. I'm quite capable of looking after myself.” My hand already on the doorknob.
“I don't doubt it, Ms. Monk, but if the Fey have ventured to this continent, you will not recognise them in time. Until I can teach you to sense them, you are vulnerable.”
“I promise to stay behind the bar until you get there,” I said, sarcastically.
He ignored the tone. “Good, I will be there just after sundown.”
Great, I thought to myself as I stomped down the stairs from my flat, altering my heavy footfalls to something more quiet when my head began to threaten to pound. Now I had a babysitter. I could imagine what Gabriel would say when he turned up tonight.
The four hours to sunset went remarkably fast. I didn't have a chance to feel sick. Even pouring Caipirinhas didn't make me want to hurl or cringe. Maybe my stomach was made of sterner stuff than I had thought. Until Avery turned up.
Dressed the same as last night, this time his leather jacket had been left behind at my flat, so his broad should
ers and well-toned chest was more noticeable than usual. The eyes of several females turned and watched him glide towards the bar. If I had thought vampires could ooze predatory hunger, I hadn't met a Brazilian lady on the prowl.
“You better watch out,” I said, as he slid into a seat in front of me. “You've already been marked and target-locked by at least six.”
Avery looked over his shoulder casually, taking in the six women I had spotted and then a few more. He turned slowly back to me, a smile on his lips that made him look even more gorgeous than before. “Are you jealous, Ms. Monk?”
“Hardly,” I snorted and handed a customer their drink. Avery watched me as I dealt with the guy's change. Smiling at the tourist when he complimented the speed of service. Lame, but I gotta make them happy. Jorge, Gabriel's father, insisted on making the customers feel welcome. That way they'd spend more money of course. This chap would definitely be back.
I turned back to Avery and found his eyes intently staring at me. Hints of amber and ochre in their depths. “Perhaps, it should be me who is jealous,” he whispered, only loud enough for me to hear.
“What would like to drink?” I said, wiping down the bar and ignoring his tone.
“Oh, I think you know what I would like, Ms. Monk,” Avery said softly, purposely looking at my neck.
I poured him a Caipirinha and thrust it towards him with a false smile. “Not on the menu,” I said equally as softly and then turned my back on him and set to serving the queue that had formed since he arrived.
By the time I had made it through the crowd, Avery had long since finished his drink and was chatting up a local couple, teenagers, in the corner of the bar. I itched to make him leave them alone, but that would show I cared. He'd take it as jealousy, when really I just wanted to protect the young girl and her boyfriend from the fangs of a master vampire. He'd no doubt obey the rules, glaze them and only take what he needed and no more. Avery may be Dark, but he also knew how to stay under the radar. But, the thought of him hunting on my turf just rankled.
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