Shadow's Light

by Nicola Claire

  Michel moved his body against mine, his lips trailing a path up my chest, throat, jaw and chin. I moaned as he kissed me passionately on the lips. Ate me from my mouth down. His hand coming down to find my breast again, rolling my nipples between two fingers, twisting, tweaking. Making me arch off the bed towards his touch. He growled against my mouth and moved his hand down to between my legs. His nose nestling into the curve of my neck, then moving down my chest to nuzzle between my breasts. He never could keep away from them for long.

  Michel groaned as his face lifted and he drew a deep breath in through his nose.

  I wanted this so badly. I wanted to feel what only Michel could make me feel. What I craved, what I pined for. But I became aware that this was no longer available to me and never would be again.

  I came to lying on the bed in my Copacabana apartment, Avery fully dressed off to the side and looking decidedly irate. And no Michel. The ache was all consuming.

  I had wanted to feel something other than the pain and heartache I'd been consumed in. I had wanted it all to go away and only feel bliss. I had allowed Avery's mind manipulation free rein. I'm not sure if a part of me had known it wasn't true. I'm not sure, because all I wanted was for it to be true. I wanted to forget reality and only float in the pure ecstasy of that moment in my mind. I realised Avery had used the illusion to control me, to hold me in place until he could fully recover from my blast of Light. He had fought back like any vampire would. And I felt like I had let him. For the few moments that the illusion played out in my mind, I had forgotten. And I didn't fight back.

  But for what good? The moment the illusion was shattered it all came tumbling back so much worse than before.

  I glared at the vampire standing across the room from me; anger, despair, guilt stampeding through my mind. Then without pausing, I half stumbled, half crawled to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind me, pushing the lock closed despite the fact that it wouldn't hold Avery out. Then fell to the floor by the door and screamed.

  My body ached. Physically, emotionally. Completely. My stomach was turned upside down. My heart cleaved in two. My head pounded and the world blurred and all I could do was scream. I hated this. I hated feeling so weak and destroyed and useless. I wanted Michel back so badly. I wanted his body to cover mine, his hands to brush my skin. His lips to kiss me. I hated that I had become easy prey to the vampire on the other side of the door. And, I realised with dawning horror, how much easier it was going to be for fairies to do exactly the same thing.

  They would use my deepest desire against me. And I would gladly let them create that moment of falsehood, simply to have another second with Michel.

  I always keep a weapon in each room. I have a butchers block of sharp knives in the kitchen. My stakes and silver knife in the main room. And in the bathroom, I have a dagger. I opened the cupboard under the sink, reached in beneath the towels stacked there and pulled the dagger out. I ran my finger down the edge of the blade. It wasn't as sharp as my silver knife. Or the kitchen knives either. But, it would do.

  I settled down on the floor, my back to the cupboards and took a deep breath in. I had responsibilities. I am the Prophesied. I have the power to close the portals and stop the Fey. I even have three vampires in my line I am responsible for. Not that I had shown them much care or attention lately. I had people relying on me to do what needed to be done.

  But, I couldn't do it. I was failing. I was alone and lost and so very tired of fighting the despair all the time. I shut my eyes and tried to talk to Nut. Asked for her forgiveness. Prayed that she would find someone else to fill my shoes. Someone more worthy, like Amisi. I'd always thought that Amisi should have been the chosen one. Not me. Nut didn't answer. I didn't even feel her Light. I think that's what did it. It made me realise she couldn't help me through this, I was truly on my own.

  If your own goddess, the mother of your people, can't save you, then who can?

  I took hold of the dagger in both shaking hands and pressed the tip against my chest, above my heart. I could have tried to slash my wrists, but bleeding out takes time. And besides, I know exactly where to place the tip of a knife to get to the heart unhindered.

  Michel, I'm coming.

  The door to the bathroom crashed open and I only had time to think, not again, you bastard, before the dagger was whacked from my hand and Avery hauled me to my feet before him. He shook all over, his eyes now not only filled with jade but rimmed in red.

  “I will not lose you, Ms. Monk,” he ground out between clenched teeth. “If I have to glue your arse to mine every second of the day to keep you alive, I will.”

  I shook my head and let the tears roll down my cheeks. “Let me go, Avery. Please. I can't do this anymore. Please.”

  He looked at me, so full of anger and rage at what I had attempted to do. And slowly, replacing those emotions; compassion, understanding. Sadness. None of which I had ever thought I'd see in Avery Rousseau.

  He pulled me into an embrace and kissed my head.

  “Luce,” he said simply. I'd never heard him use my nick-name before. “Let me help you through this.”

  By fucking with my mind, I thought.

  He sighed. "You need to learn to protect yourself against this type of attack," he replied, clearly having heard my thoughts. It figures he'd be in my head. My shields were shattered and my mind was a riot of shouted words.

  I sagged against him, unable to fight even him. His hand ran though my hair, petting me, comforting me, like a brother would a sister. Just right. Maybe I could lean on him. Probably not, given his nature. But, I could try for a while. Michel would want me to. He wouldn't want me to give up. To stop fighting. To turn my back on all that was left for me to do. And I really didn't think I could do that alone anymore.

  God damn you Michel. Why did you leave me so alone?

  Avery sighed again, but continued to stroke my head. After a while he released me and made me perch on the bench, while he checked the bathroom over with a fine tooth comb. No doubt looking for further weapons and then started a bath. He turned and looked at me. No emotion showing on his face. Hazel staring out behind those lashes.

  “I'll be in your head, Ms. Monk. So, don't try anything, or you're likely to find yourself on beach in the south of France, working on your tan. Have a bath and then come out and we'll talk.”

  He left, the dagger clutched in his hand and closed the door softly behind him.

  The relief of finally being able to pee washed all other emotions away briefly. Then the warm water of the bath managed to soothe the rest. I let myself drift off to sleep, my head resting on the edge of the bath as my body floated in the water.

  I didn't dream. I didn't think of anything. But when the water started to cool and I woke up again, I felt a little better. Not whole, still so very empty, but enough of a shell of a body to be able to get on with life for now.

  Avery was once again picture perfectly coiffed when I ventured out into the room. He looked up from where he had been sitting on the couch and watched me as I straightened the bed covers and then traipsed to the kitchen in search of food. After coffee and a quick sandwich I sat down on the edge of the bed and forced myself to look at him. His eyes met mine and held them. Neither of us moved an inch.

  Finally, he said, “Ms. Monk, if you can do what you did last night and just now with your Light, then you can do anything. I was shielded last night, prepared as your thoughts had already betrayed you, yet unable to stop your attack at all. This morning, I was physically incapacitated for some time, the only chance I had of holding you captive was to manipulate your mind. But I had been prepared. Others would not be. You'd get one shot and one shot only, but it may be enough. They would be as good as defenceless." He paused, letting that all sink in. "You don't need me to train you to use your Light as a shield. You just need to get the hell on and do it.”

  Easier said than done. When I didn't reply, but just sat there motionless staring at him, he went on. “I think
you need to take the night off from the bar and we'll work on convincing you just how powerful your Light can be.”

  I shook my head and flicked a glance at my wall clock. Still a couple of hours until I had to be at work.

  “You've got two hours, Rousseau, then I'm out of here.” I couldn't bear the thought of being in his presence longer than that. I needed a break. From him. From this flat. Hell, from life, but I'd settle for a change of scenery and a rowdy beach crowd of drunks.

  “If you haven't mastered it in two hours, then you don't go to work.” He said it like it was a fact. I just shrugged in reply, not having enough energy to bite back.

  His first attack wasn't subtle. Maybe he was letting me find my feet with the obvious. But, Pina Coladas on an obviously Hawaiian beach with the sun pelting down and the palm trees swaying in the breeze, wasn't hard to see for what it was. An illusion. I let Michel's naked body stalk closer to me for a moment, enjoying the scene and then slammed my shields home and pushed Avery from my mind with my Light. It wasn't instinctive, but I wouldn't have admitted that to him to save myself. I'd get better, with practice.

  Luckily, he wasn't ready to pull the plug on this little adventure down insanity lane.

  The next attack was less blatant. In fact I was several minutes into it, making out with Michel in his chamber in Sensations when it occurred to me, Michel was dead. I bit back a cry of pain and sent my Light out at the source of the illusion like a whip. I came to in my Copacabana flat with Avery rolling around on the floor, holding his hands to his head.

  He continued to writhe on the floor in agony, so I wasn't prepared for the third attack, expecting him to need to recover before launching in on my mind again. This one felt real. Avery must have put more oomph into it or something, because I didn't fight it, like I had started to the rest. I accepted Michel sitting across from me at Sensations, him drinking his Scotch straight, me with my Bacardi and Coke. Doug was even there, bringing me a sandwich on a silver tray. Michel was making jokes, telling me about his night. Sharing his evening's conversations, his business plans, his optimism over a contract he was about to sign. His eyes were shining an amazing combination of colours; indigo, violet, amethyst. All the shades I had come to adore.

  He was attentive and entertaining. I felt so loved and complete and... home. He stood and took my hand, asking me to dance. Michel was such a wonderful dancer, it always felt like I was flying when wrapped up in his arms. Several beautiful moments passed as I was cradled next to him and twirled around the dance floor, then his head bent slowly, his eyes holding onto mine, a glint of hunger and desire flashing in their depths. I craved what was about to happen, the clubroom fell away, only Michel in close proximity, his heat, his feather-like touch, his fangs.

  I floated on the sensations he was sending me through the connection of his bite. I barely registered he'd moved us to his chamber, stripped our clothes and laid me on the bed. He licked his fang marks closed, his eyes coming up to hold my gaze and then slowly entered me. I revelled in the feel of his body inside mine, the move of his naked skin against my feverish flesh. The build of one orgasm, followed by another and another. The increase in speed, his breathing becoming uneven, his moans of pleasure louder, his muscled thighs between mine. His beautifully moulded butt in my hands. Then finally, I celebrated his release, wanting nothing more than Michel to be as wrapped up in the moment as I was, as sated as he had made me.

  That beautiful scene in Michel's chamber slowly disintegrated around me and with it the last of my happiness and hope.

  Avery was sitting very still across from me in a chair opposite my couch, in Copacabana. His rapid breathing and steely gaze the only indication that he had witnessed what I had. My own breath had stilled. I was as tight as a bow string, ready to break at a single touch.

  “They will use any ruse necessary to convince you of what is happening,” he said, a little roughly. “They will even take the time to seduce you. Time is irrelevant to them. They are practically immortal. A half hour, an hour, they will gladly attempt to make you more pliable. The Dökkálfa will take your courage, love, hope and happiness - whatever emotion the illusion creates they will consume - and they will enjoy every ounce of pain that they leave in their wake. The Ljósálfar will make love to you through your mind and then spirit you away to Álfheimr to hand you over to your Ljósálfar Prince, if you are lucky. Or simply pillage your body themselves while you are no longer aware.”

  I ran a hand through my hair and glanced up at the clock. We'd only been at this for an hour, but I was already exhausted. My emotions a mixed up bag of raw nerves. But, I wouldn't let this better me. I wouldn't hide away in my flat, alter my routine because I was scared. I'd been hiding from a lot of things lately. I was getting a little tired of it, truth be told.

  Before I even had a chance to answer Avery, he hit my mind again. This time he made me believe I was in bed dreaming. The sheets wrapped around my naked thighs. I could feel the soft breeze coming through the windows and hear the slow tick of my wall clock in the room. He'd found a memory, one I didn't want him to have. But, because he had never seen it before, I initially couldn't put what was happening down to Avery. It felt like a dream. I was dreaming. And Michel was making love to me on the hill above my parents' farm.

  I don't know what tipped me off that this wasn't real. Wasn't even a dream. But, something instinctive did kick in. Maybe the low hum from the back of mind. My inner monologue finally making some noise after being absent for the past two months. The humming a reminder that life was not as I knew it right now and to stay on guard.

  I immediately threw my Light around me and came to back on the couch.

  “Very good, Ms. Monk,” Avery said casually, unaware of just how much he had hurt me by seeing that memory at all.

  The next few illusions he threw at me, my inner monologue became faster at identifying. All of them featured Michel, but were so varied and familiar, my immediate thought was always, this is right. But, for some reason, my inner monologue had finally woken up and all of a sudden I had a defence. It didn't work every time. Of the twelve more mind manipulations featuring Michel that Avery attempted, he succeeded in only two. Two out of twelve. Not ideal, but considering where I had come from it gave me an unbelievable high.

  I skipped around the room as I got ready for work and Avery sat quietly on the couch. Just before I left for the start of my shift at the bar, he entered my mind one more time.

  I hadn't expected it. We'd stopped practising a quarter of an hour earlier, but my inner monologue piped up the minute the room changed scene, despite the fact that my mind felt like it had been there, on the bed with Michel above me, all along. I slipped into the illusion like a well worn glove. Michel so familiar, so magnificent above me. His fully aroused body on display. He was brilliant, sweat glistened his skin. Every ridge of his body, every defined line of his muscles, stood out in the low lights of the room. The image was mesmerising. And a total turn on. I arched up against him, begging for him to take me. The humming in mind distracting though and for a moment, almost enough to shatter what was surely a dream. It didn't matter, the humming was too late, as soon as the room coalesced around me Michel thrust inside in one hard movement and had me coming in the next instant as he pounded in and out.

  My mind was blinded by my orgasm, too distracted by the pure bliss to consider that this wasn't real. I knew it wasn't, I knew Michel was dead and this was a mind manipulation managed by Avery. I couldn't, for the life of me, throw up a shield, let alone think of my Light. Avery made me keep coming again and again for several minutes until Michel spilled himself inside with one hard final thrust.

  I came to with Avery beside me on the couch. His eyes full of jade and rimmed in red. His fangs down and a low growl coming from between his lips. His intention to bite me was apparent. Before he got the chance, I blasted him with Light. Just enough to get him to back the fuck off, just enough to pay him back for the pain he had caused me, the hurt he had
dug up. But not enough to actually incapacitate, a part of me aware he had, in fact, helped me today. He had taught me, albeit most harshly, to defend myself against the Fey.

  “Fuck,” he said with meaning, the jade slowly ebbing from his eyes. “Fuck!”

  Chapter 7

  Found

  “Oh fuck,” Avery said one more time for good measure. “I... fuck!”

  “Relax, Avery,” I said, surprised it was me who now seemed the one in control. Avery had breached each newly learnt defence and managed to get close enough for an attack. “I seriously doubt the Fey will know how to circumvent my shields and Light. You've had two hours to test them, your vampire knew exactly how to break down my defences in the end. You did what any vampire would do.”

  He swallowed painfully and just kept staring at me. I expected his vampire to pounce at any moment, yet for some reason, I wasn't actually afraid.

  He didn't move, he just kept looking at me, waiting for something, but I don't know what. This was Avery. The Plucking Pervert. The Darkest vampire I have ever spent any time with. But he had helped me. He had been trying to teach me new skills, skills that would make me safer, protect me from harm. How could a Dark vampire do that?

  Because he wants something in return, my inner voice quietly, softly whispered in my mind. It was right. Avery wanted my cooperation, wanted me to join with him without duress.

  Had I moved on in my grief enough not to be angered by what had just transpired? Avery had used my heartache and loss over Michel to lower my barricades and slip within an inch of draining me dry. I had seen the hunger and possession on his face. His desire to feed from me, to make me his.

  I felt a tear slowly track down the side of my cheek. It felt like the weight, the entire mass of all my pain was trapped inside that little drop. It was hot and at the same time so ice cold. It was tiny, but at the same time full of so much grief it should have encompassed the entire room. It was all alone. It represented everything I hated about my life. It represented my loss.