Shadow's Light

by Nicola Claire

  I closed the door behind us and flicked the lock. Not that it would do much good against any fey trying to chase me down, but the vampires would be all out for the count, hiding from the sun right now. Time though, was still of the essence. I needed to grab my stash and get us the hell outta Dodge.

  I flicked a glance at Aliath, he was taking in the sparse furnishings in my little flat, totally unimpressed. It certainly didn't compare to the plush surroundings of the Dökkálfa Court. I shrugged and headed toward the bed, getting down on my hands and knees to shimmy underneath it and pry loose the floorboard above my emergency cache of goodies.

  My two silver stakes and silver knife were with Avery in São Paulo. Or at least I hoped he still had them, they cost a bomb and replacing stakes was not an easy activity. But, I was taught to be prepared. Nero, my former Nosferatin trainer, had insisted on back-ups. Not that I think he had ever envisaged me hiding out in South America on the run from the Iunctio and the Fey.

  The floorboard finally came loose and I reached awkwardly inside fishing out a spare silver stake, silver dagger and my dancing dragon necklace. I reached back in and found the two hundred US dollars I had also hidden and the cheap pre-paid cellphone I had stashed there as a last thought. I backed out from under the bed, aware that I now had dust all over my Dökkálfa dress, but it wasn't something I was particularly worried about. The dress was about to be lost for good.

  I sat down on the edge of my bed and looked at my hidden hoard of precious life-saving equipment. The stake and dagger were invaluable. I had picked them up in my travels. Not Egyptian made, like my usual gear, but fairly well constructed all the same. They would to the job anyway and that's all that mattered. If I made it back to New Zealand I could restock with the real deal. I'd been surprised to find the stake in Lima. Who knew Peru would have an underground vampire staking business? No Nosferatins, but very aware and cautious Norms. Their folklore was eerily correct and I had spent longer with the group of frighteningly cognizant humans in that city than I had intended. It was through them that most of my diversions were established. Somehow they had known a little of what I was and were determined to help me out.

  I had made a mental note to send a care parcel back to them one day with good quality silverware, but the thought of involving more Norms in the underworld battle with the Nosferatu was a little scary. Then again, who else was here to keep their loved ones safe? South America was a black hole on the Iunctio's map and Nosferatins were non-existent in these lands.

  I switched the cellphone on and waited for a signal. While it booted up I fingered Michel's dancing dragon necklace. I hadn't worn it since I had left New Zealand. Too painful a reminder of what I had lost. A small smile played on the edges of my lips as my finger ran over the lightning bolt of diamonds across the dragon's heart. Michel was alive. There could be no better emotion than what I felt at that knowledge.

  Avery had once said to me, at the moment of Michel's death in fact, when I had been wrought with grief, that: For there to be shadows, there must also be Light. I had not believed him, of course, too deep in a pit of shadowy despair. But, the Light was shining brightly in this small apartment on Rua Duvivier today. Very brightly indeed.

  The cellphone chirped and I picked it up and checked the date and time. I'd been in Álfheimr for close to one week. My cellphone screen told me that three weeks had actually passed in this realm. My last paid rent was about to run out in the next day or so. Luck had been on my side. I looked up at Aliath, who stood very still, not touching a single thing. The look on his face was hostile. He wasn't happy to be here and I don't think he had appreciated my brief side trip down memory lane.

  “You're going to have to use some glamour if you want to blend in,” I offered, punching in a number on the cellphone as I spoke.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Silver is not a common colour for hair and you're a little too pretty for the average male in this realm. Tone it all down a bit.” I waved a hand at him indicating a downward motion as I spoke that last. His lips quirked ever so slightly at the edges. Maybe he did have an emotional response, other than 'nasty', somewhere deep within after all?

  The phone rang twice before it was answered at the other end. The crisp English accent of my favourite vampire full of my Light came over the line.

  “Who is this?” Samson demanded.

  For a moment I couldn't say a thing. I swallowed twice and finally managed a croaky, “Hey.”

  There was pause and then a long breath out. “Mistress?” He sounded so hopeful, I let my own breath of air out in a slight sob and covered it with a laugh.

  “Who else would be phoning this number, Samson? Or have you been giving out your private line more generously since I left?” Samson was a very private vampire. He kept this particular phone number for only a select few. That's how I had known I'd find him, no matter where he was now in the world.

  “Luce,” he said softly and I heard the rustle of sheets in the background.

  “Did I wake you up?” I asked and looked at the clock on the wall above the kitchen sink. It said 3 pm, but I had no idea where Samson was. “What time is it where you are?”

  “It's seven in the morning. I was having a sleep in, if you must know.”

  “Where are you, Samson? Are you still in Auckland?”

  “Of course. This is my home and I had hoped you would return here when you got your wander-lust out of your system.” He paused for a second. “You are returning here aren't you, Luce?”

  “Ah, yeah.” My mind was reeling, there was just so much to tell him.

  Plus, there was obviously a hell of a lot for him to tell me, for starters, where was he staying in Auckland? When Michel 'died', all of his assets were handed over to the line. As Jett was set to take over the line, he would have also taken over the assets. Including our house in St Helier's Bay. There had been no provision for the kindred Nosferatin left behind. Simply because I was not meant to have been left behind at all. I had known that I and my line would have to move out of the house eventually, I just hadn't stuck around to face it.

  “Where are you staying?” I asked. First things first, was he safe and cared for? I may have abandoned them, but I still felt responsible for them. Guilt was starting its evil trek back into my heart.

  “At home,” he replied, then must have understood where I was coming from, because he added, “Jett wrote the house in St. Helier's over to you. As well as a Land Rover and your car. They are all in your name. Sergei and Nataliya and I have been staying here. Oh, and Marcus and Matthias haven't shifted out either. They were hoping you would return too. The house in Taupo was signed over to Matthew and Kathleen as well. As was the house in London to Christopher. Jett offered us all more, but we just took what we thought you would have wanted.”

  Wow. Jett hadn't needed to do that. But then, that was Jett. Scary as hell in person, but underneath all that stark and lethal threat was a marshmallow. He had looked after the people I should have looked after. He had taken care of my business, while I had been AWOL. I'd have to thank him and then I thought of the problems about to surface with Michel's return. Jett was now the official Master of Auckland City. Theoretically you couldn't stand down from that role. You couldn't simply hand it over to another. To lose it, you had to die.

  First things first. “OK, that's great, glad to hear you haven't been turfed out on your arse.” I took a deep breath. “Samson, Michel's alive.”

  There was a soft sound in the background, from down the line. I have excellent hearing. I can hear conversations carried out in the room of the person I am talking to on the phone. There hadn't been one now, but I had heard an intact of soft air. Not Samson's, but someone else's. Samson had a bed mate with him. My face broke into a smile. Samson rarely shared his bed. Or if he did, he kept it very private. I don't think he'd had an open liaison since I had known him.

  I decided not to call him out on his companion, but until I knew who it was, I wanted to be caut
ious. I placed the phone on mute and looked back over at Aliath. He was still in the same position, not touching a thing. But his eyes were all on me. He had taken my advice and down shifted the Fey visionary magnetism, his hair a soft silvery blonde, his features handsome but not overly done. His eyes a soft green, no longer as bright. He looked almost human. To a Norm, he'd just seem scrummy, but believably so. I tried to break the glamour. I had thought having known it was there and known what he looked like before hand, it would be easier. But, I couldn't even tell he was expending any effort or fey magic at all. He still looked like Aliath, but just not as omnipresent.

  “Can you shift through space? You know, take us anywhere in the world we want to go like Lutin can?” I asked, still holding the phone in my hand, but knowing Samson would not be able to hear my conversation now.

  “Of course I can.” I just nodded at his supercilious expression. I guess he didn't like the idea that I had questioned whether he could do something the Ljósálfar Prince had been able to do.

  I un-muted the phone and brought it to my ear. Samson had been talking, but I'd missed it all. I didn't bother to get him to repeat it, I just said, “I'll be there soon. I can't feel Michel, we're no longer connected, but he is somewhere back in this realm.” I'd tried to talk to him in my head, but he hadn't answered. Whether that was because we were too far away or our talking ability was not as strong as it used to be, I didn't know. Part of me was concerned though. Michel had talked in my mind from Álfheimr, that would indicate our mind talking ability was fairly strong. The fact that we couldn't now was definitely a worry. Was he actually in this world or not? “See if you can locate him. I'll explain everything when I return. Oh, you better let Jett know. I'll be there as soon as I can.”

  I ended the call mid-way through Samson's frantic questions. It was a little unfair of me. I'd dropped an atomic sized bomb on him and run the other way. But, I couldn't spare the time. I wanted to get out of this apartment as quickly as I could. Although I wanted Lutin to find me, I didn't want to be unprepared and my life here in Copacabana had been compromised. I was done hiding and I was ready to use the resources I had. That included Samson and the Russian siblings, Sergei and Nataliya, of my line. And by the sound of it, Marcus and Matthias, my two personal bodyguards. They hadn't been of my line, they were Michel's. But, they had been part of my family anyway. I was remarkably happy to hear they had stuck around.

  I started stripping off the god-awful Dökkálfa dress as I walked to my drawers for more clothes. The buttons on the back were impossible to reach, but I was giving it my best shot. Eventually, having taken pity on me for some reason, Aliath stepped forward and undid the rest. As soon as the dress gaped open he stepped back and turned away. Either he was shy or he really didn't like me. I was going with the latter.

  I rummaged through my underwear, grabbing what I needed, then paused over my short shorts and cropped singlet tops. They had been my uniform here in South America. I didn't have my old hunting uniform with me, the short mini skirt and tight fitting black Tee, but I did have my stretchy dress and matching jacket. The one I had been wearing at Michel's wake and when I arrived here. It had also been a gift from Michel. I grabbed both the dress and jacket and high-tailed it into the bathroom.

  One look at myself in the mirror made me stop. The hair-do wasn't as bad as I had thought. It wasn't, in fact, uneven as I had first presumed. Just rather blunt. But, the shortness of the almost chin-length bob had made my hair seem thicker. I ran a hand through the shorter lengths and marvelled at the full body the style gave me. Finally my dead straight hair had a bit of oomph. Personally, I liked the longer style I'd had, but at least this wasn't a disaster.

  I turned the shower on and jumped in before it fully heated up. My familiar shampoo and conditioner, followed by a full body wash, had me smelling more like myself. I didn't muck around though, I wanted us on our way. I dressed quickly, ran a hand through my new do and returned to the main room. A quick stash of my stake and dagger on one side of the fitted jacket and the cell phone and cash on the other and I was evened out. No one would be able to tell I was packing silver, the cellphone filled the gap my second stake would have taken well.

  I reached down and with a sigh of delight and contentment, placed Michel's dancing dragon necklace over my head. It settled perfectly between my breasts. Just where Michel liked to be. I was worried, I didn't know where he was, but I was valiantly trying to not let the fear rule me. I'd find him again, of that much, I was sure.

  I turned to Aliath who was watching me closely. There wasn't too much emotion to discern on his face, but at least when his eyes roamed over my outfit, it didn't show contempt. He was, if I had to guess, intrigued. My clothing has always been on the darker side. Black on black is my signature style. Despite the designs of the dresses back in the Dökkálfa Court, the colours had been right up my alley. The outfit I now wore was jet black. The dress fitted my curves, from the scooped neckline, over my adequately sized bust and flat stomach. It also hugged my hips and came to rest an inch or two above my knees. A little longer than my mini skirts had been, but the style had more chic to it than the skirts ever did. Michel had chosen well. I looked expensively attired in the simple but well made ensemble. The jacket made to measure and fitting snugly over the dress. Its hem at exactly the edge of the dress skirt. Both items made with a slightly elastic fabric, making movement unhindered in a fight.

  As far as Nosferatins go, I was one high street fashioned hunter, that was for sure. Looking at Aliath now, I couldn't tell if he appreciated the colour choice or the style of the dress. He would have been used to copious amounts of fabric, but if his reaction to the bikini clad teenagers on the street was anything to go by, I was betting he liked a little less skirt.

  “So,” I said to him, taking one last look around my pitiful Copacabana life, “Auckland, New Zealand. Preferably right outside my house. Can you manage that?”

  His eyes came up from their continued perusal of my legs and he nodded briefly. I took the offered hand he extended pushing past any lingering hatred of touching the Fey. I expected an instant transport, like Lutin had managed in the past. But, Aliath just tightened his grip on my hand painfully and looked down at me, the hostility returned to his face at last.

  “If you are planning on delaying our capture of the Prince, I will make you suffer,” he whispered, harshly.

  I held his gaze, but didn't bother to reply. He could kiss my high-street covered arse for all I cared. I wasn't going to sit around and wait for Lutin to find me. He'd track me down, he'd managed before. But, I sure as hell wasn't going to wait for the inevitable without amassing some protection along the way. I would not be captured and spirited off to Álfheimr for a second time. I was home in my world and I sure as hell planned to stay.

  I waited patiently and silently for Aliath to realise I wasn't playing his game and then without warning felt the world around me shift, blur and then instantly reform to a overcast morning on the shore of St. Helier's Bay. I glanced around, my breath in my throat and took in the scene.

  Early morning joggers running in two's and three's, the odd dog on a lead at their side, down the wide footpath of Tamaki Drive. The sound of seagulls on the air and the fresh sea salt spray of the Hauraki Gulf filtering in through my nose. So similar to Michel, but not exactly right. It wasn't Michel's scent I was smelling, but Auckland City in the Bays on an early winter's morning. The sound of traffic fighting for the right to be heard over the sound of lapping waves and squawking birds. I was home.

  I turned slowly, Aliath's hand still firmly clasping mine and took in the home Michel and I had shared. It hadn't changed much in the almost three months I had been gone. Samson had been making sure the gardeners maintained the lawns and hedging. The shutters were already down on the pristine and cared-for, grey weather-boarded house. The large expanse of glass in the lounge front window fully clothed in a dull cream metallic shield, blocking out the UV killing rays of the early morning sun.


  There were no cars in the paved driveway, I was picking my BMW was locked in the double garage off to the side with the Land Rover Samson had mentioned Jett had given us. The house looked neat and tidy, but most of all, it looked like home.

  I released Aliath's hand and jogged up the stairs to the front door. My hand was a little sweaty as I turned the unlocked handle, but I didn't take the care to wipe it dry on my clothes. The door swung open onto a vestibule, designed to keep the vampires shielded from any stray sunlight. I waved Aliath in with me and shut the door behind.

  As soon as the outer door clicked shut, the inner door swung open and I was pulled into a tight, almost suffocating embrace. Strong arms wrapped around me, Samson's head buried in the curve of my neck as he inhaled my scent. I let him take his time. Being part of a line required frequent touching to reinforce the bond we shared. He'd had over two months of not touching me, I had expected this reaction to my return. I noticed Sergei and Nataliya hovering behind and further back both the M&M's.

  Samson finally pulled back to look at me, his star shaped Sigillum shining in the dim light of the entranceway on his cheek. My Light mark indicating he was mine. I smiled sheepishly at him as his eyes roamed over my body and returned to my face.

  “What the fuck have you done to your hair?” he demanded, when his eyes finally reached their goal.

  Yeah, I was home.

  Chapter 22

  Family

  “So,” I said to the room at large, as I sat on the sofa in my lounge. Samson sat opposite me in an armchair, Sergei and Nataliya on either side of me, having had their fill of touching, but unable to pull away. Marcus and Matthias were leaning nonchalantly against a far wall, but both had eyes only for Aliath, who stood stock still off to the side of the room. Once again not touching a single thing and still cloaked in glamour. He'd taken my advice to heart. “No one else in the house?” I asked.