Shadow's Light

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Shadow's Light Page 27

by Nicola Claire


  Jett crouched down in front of me and took hold of both my hands. He smiled, an indulgent smile, as though he was about to talk to a little child.

  “Luce. None of us is bound to him by blood anymore, but that does not mean we are not his. Just because you no longer share a joining and Bond with Michel, does not mean you are not his kindred. As we will always be his vampires, you will always be Michel's kindred.”

  I'm not sure what it was. His words. Words which vampires always believe hold more strength than any human would consider. Words that carry weight. But, as soon as he spoke them, I knew they were true. I'm no vampire, what I perceive is not necessarily true. But to vampires, it is.

  I was Michel's kindred no matter whether we were joined or not. And they were his vampires, mine by right to command.

  “This is going to be complicated, what with you being the Master of the City and all,” I said in reply and Jett chuckled.

  “When has life not been complicated with you in it, Luce?”

  True. But still.

  The phone in the kitchen rang and Matthias went to answer it. At the same time my cellphone rang and I fished it up off the side table to check who it was. Amisi.

  I answered at the same time Matthias did. He was walking back in the room with the cordless to his ear.

  Amisi didn't wait for a hello, she launched right in.

  “Michel's at the Iunctio's Palais in Paris,” Amisi said right as Matthias announced, “The Champion has got him.”

  I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or scared. He was here in our realm, but within my scariest nightmare’s grasp.

  The Champion did not play nicely and by the way Matthias had said it, I was betting she didn't want to share.

  Too bad. Michel was mine. I don't share either.

  Chapter 23

  Mine

  “We have to go to him.” Freshly brewed coffee in hand, I was barely able to sit still on the couch and drink it. The idea that Michel was being held by the Champion in Paris was too frightening. The desire to go to him immediately, overwhelming.

  “Let's think about this for a minute,” Jett said from an armchair opposite me. He was also drinking a coffee made by Nataliya. I was going to have to let Nataliya know how essential she was to my wellbeing and stable state of mind. She always seemed to deal with the small background issues, like food and comfort. Without her, I would surely never eat or drink at all.

  It was surprising, Nataliya certainly didn't look like the nurturing kind. She looked lethal and threatening, just like her brother. Only a feminine version of the dark swarthy skinned, dark haired, square jawed and harshly handsome features Sergei bore. Both were capable warriors, but both were fiercely protective of me. It hadn't always been that way, when I first met them, they were prepared to kill me.

  Now, Sergei organised my protection squad, commanding Marcus and Matthias, organising their roles around my life. And Nataliya had taken it upon herself to care for my human needs. Ensuring my good health, while her brother ensured my safety. Both had missed me in my absence, like Samson had. But neither had chastised nor had shown disappointment on my return. Well at least, not yet. They had simply fallen back into the roles they had created for themselves in my line.

  I was truly blessed.

  I looked back at Jett, trying to decipher his meaning. “What is there to think about?” I asked. “He's being held by the Champion, he needs to be rescued.”

  Jett glanced at Samson. “What does Alain say?”

  “Michel is comfortable, but confined to quarters. He is unsure why. His team is investigating. He has contacts in the Iunctio's Palais. He will advise what he knows as soon as he can.”

  “Why would she hold him?” Matthias asked.

  Why wouldn't she? I thought bitterly. There could be any number of reasons, least of which the Champion has had her eye on Michel for some time. My guess, it was personal, but there is also a calculated business side to the Champion which is never switched off. Everything she does is done for more than one reason. Having Michel within her clutches would satisfy the woman in her, but he would be there for more than just her lust.

  “The official reason will be to investigate his supposed death. What danger he could pose the Iunctio,” I said quietly, garnering surprised looks from those vampires in the room. All of which had not expected me to analyse the situation so accurately. Or at all. “The unofficial reason could be anything. Her whim. Her desire to use him in some way. She had offered him a job before he was taken by the Dökkálfa. We were hoping it was still available. Maybe she is toying with that.”

  “What job?” Jett asked. I looked directly at him, but didn't answer. He just nodded after a prolonged silent second. He wasn't stupid. A job I couldn't voice was undoubtedly a powerful one. And also a controversial one. Keeping it quiet seemed the right thing to do.

  “I need to convince her he isn't a threat. He needs to take that job. If she doubts him, she may not give him the access he will need and then, should I be forced to join with a vampire, the portals will be closed.”

  Jett flicked a glance at the statue-like fairy in the corner, who was listening to everything, but not offering any comment at all. “Forgive me for asking the obvious,” he drawled, “but maybe the closure of the portals is in fact the wisest course of action.”

  I couldn't argue with him about it being wise. At least wise from a humanity point of view. But, my freedom was on the line. I hadn't gone into detail on the accord Sofiq had made with us, purposely brushing over my charm. I shook my head at Jett. “No. If Michel fails to keep the portals open, I will be spirited away to Álfheimr.”

  “Charmed?” Jett asked, but didn't wait for a reply. “Then you going to the Palais would undoubtedly be a mistake.”

  “How so?” I demanded sitting up straighter in my seat.

  “The Champion will force your joining as soon as you arrive. If we keep you here in New Zealand, we can at least give you adequate protection from any would-be kindred who wishes to join with you. The longer we avoid that outcome, the safer you will be.” He saw the look of mortified comprehension on my face. Every cell of my body wanted to go to Michel, denying it was more than just painful. It was tearing me up inside. “Michel is not without his own skills in situations such as these, Luce. He will win the Champion over, but we need to give him time. Besides, Alain will not desert him. He is not alone.”

  I understood, in theory, what he was saying. I needed to stay unjoined for as long as possible. Until Michel was in a position to thwart the Iunctio's ability to use the power they would gain, from me joining with a Nosferatu, to close the portals. I understood it, but I didn't like it.

  Perhaps I could still go to him. Perhaps I could Dream Walk. But, even though I can't be seen or sensed in a Dream Walking state, I can be harmed when captured. I was sure that being forced to join would still work even if I was only present as a phantom. I slouched back down into the couch cushions in defeat.

  I couldn't go to Michel. I couldn't even talk to him in his mind from this distance for some reason. I certainly couldn't feel him down a connection that no longer existed. I was his kindred in name, but little else.

  The vampires all felt my sorrow. Or smelt it on the air. I couldn't hide it from any of them. I didn't feel the need to. They were my friends, they'd understand.

  “So,” Jett said, trying to bring everyone back to a constructive conversation, “what about Lutin? How are you going to lure him here?”

  Aliath stepped forward, finally deciding to enter the conversation. “The Ljósálfar Prince will find her anywhere. She is his elska. As long as she stays in one location long enough, he will be called to her side.”

  Yet another supporter of the Keep Lucinda in Auckland approach. I glared at the fairy, but he didn't even spare me a glance. This pretty much sucked. It all made perfectly good sense, but I didn't have to like it. I was hurting and aching from days and days of unrest. I was frustrated and disappointed, that I cou
ldn't go to Michel and be with him. The few days we'd had in Álfheimr were not nearly enough to make up for the two months of thinking him dead.

  I hadn't slept in hours, but although my body felt tired, I knew I would not be able to sleep now. Daylight out, I couldn't venture far, as my personal guards would not be able to follow. I wasn't so stupid as to consider going anywhere on my own. Either Sergei or Nataliya would have to be with me 24/7, to help protect against the Fey. And Marcus and Matthias wouldn't be a bad idea at my side either.

  So, wait for Lutin to arrive, avoid any fairies who want me to conceive their young and stay away from vampires who want to join and use my power. Not a bad To Do List, but I wasn't going to sit around in a room numbly waiting for fate to play its hand.

  “OK,” I said, standing up and stretching. “You all know how to protect me, we'll make sure I'm never alone, but I will return to my duties as Auckland's Nosferatin. In the meantime, I need some semblance of normality. I'm going to workout in the gym and then catch some sleep. Then when night falls, I'm heading in to Sensations to catch up with the line.”

  Jett stood up smiling. “Sounds like an ideal plan.” He turned to the door, obviously intending to return to the city even though it was daylight out. I supposed if he could make it here in the sun, he could make it back again unscathed. He stopped at the threshold to the room and turned back to look at me. “It's good to see you, Luce. The bar will be closed for just the line tonight. I'll spread the word.” And then he was gone.

  Closing Sensations to the Norms would mean the vampires in Michel's line could commune with me unhindered. There would be no need to hide their Nosferatu sides from humans who wouldn't understand. It would mean a loss of income for the club, but I was sure it was just as profitable now as it had been when Michel ran it. Doug would have made sure of that. One night off from human patronage would not break the bank.

  I changed quickly into some yoga pants and a T-Shirt, taking a moment to glance around the bedroom Michel and I had shared before he was taken from me to Álfheimr. Nothing had changed. Samson, who had been looking after the place, had kept it clean from dust, but untouched. It no longer smelled of Michel though. It had a faint scent that belonged to me, but Michel had been gone too long now, for the room to remember him.

  By the time I made it to the state-of-the-art gym downstairs, Nataliya was already running on the treadmill. I took the stair climber and set myself a steady pace beside her. I was sure that part of her being in the room was to keep me safe and I would have baulked at that in the past. Michel had a tendency to overprotect me, but I had long outgrown the need to cling to my independence. To prove I was capable on my own. So much had happened recently, that proved I wasn't immune to mistakes and capture and harm. I am good at what I do, but strength can be found in more places than one's own self worth.

  Strength can be found in the ability to ask for and accept help from others. I was no longer above taking help where I could find it. Besides, I'd spent a good portion of the past two months on my own. Even though Nataliya and I didn't speak, a comfortable companionship wrapped around us. I may not have known everything there was to know about the Russian who had recently joined my line, but she was family none-the-less.

  We worked out together for the remainder of the morning, then by noon we mutually and silently agreed that was enough. I went and took a shower and when I entered the kitchen to grab a bite to eat before hitting the hay, Nataliya had already prepared some lunch for me. She'd left by the time I got there, but Samson was sitting reading from a tablet computer in her stead.

  “She's going to spoil me,” I said as I bit into a club sandwich; three different types of meat and salad and a dressing that tasted divine.

  “You need feeding up again, Luce,” Samson offered, lowering his tablet and watching me eat. My diet had always been an ongoing argument with Michel and me. I barely ate and consequently never put on weight. And when life was chaotic and challenging, the weight would drop off me. Feeding me up was a much favoured pastime of Michel's, before he had disappeared.

  I hoped he'd return to pick up that pastime again soon.

  “How have you been?” I asked Samson between mouthfuls.

  “I've missed you.” He didn't bother to hide how he felt, reaching over and brushing my hair back behind my ear. “You were gone a long time.” His hand hovered by my cheek, then he slowly pulled back and smiled. A flash of chocolate and taupe swirling in his deep brown eyes. Samson could charm the most hardened woman with that smile.

  I smiled back and held his gaze while I finished my mouthful. “I'm sure you kept yourself busy,” I offered once I had finished up the sandwich. Still fishing for information on the mystery bed partner from that morning. He didn't fall for it.

  “Jett has made some changes to the business while Michel has been gone,” he replied, but hastily added, “nothing too dramatic. But it has required a little fine tuning of the line's computers and security systems.” Samson handled all the IT for the line, including the technicalities of security. “I've been spending a lot of time at Sensations.” Sensations was the hub of the Durand line, the seat for the Master of the City. It belonged to Michel, but would have been handed over to Jett by default. I wondered what would happen now.

  There was so much to sort out, so many unusual difficulties to overcome. But despite the potential for territorial issues ahead, I couldn't help thinking it was all minor compared to Michel's current predicament. The Champion was a real threat. Jett, although holding a position that should still belong to Michel, was not. I didn't think either he or Michel would let the complications of Michel's return from 'death' cause irreversible problems for the line. But, the Champion was another ball game entirely. Just what did she want with Michel?

  “Where's the fairy?” I asked, trying to steer away from a headache.

  “I've put him in the guest room. I think he's a little overcome with our realm. He didn't refuse the hospitality, but insisted he accompany us this evening when we head into Sensations.” I had expected little else. Aliath wouldn't let me out of his sights for fear that Lutin would appear and he'd miss him. The Dökkálfa were keen to get their hands on the Ljósálfar Prince.

  I stifled a yawn, but Samson spotted it and waved me off to bed, insisting a catch up session could be held after I had some sleep. I didn't argue. There was just so many variables in our life right now, concentrating on any of them for too long made my head hurt. I shuffled up to bed and climbed in between crisp, clean sheets. I was asleep within minutes.

  I should have realised what sleeping would do. I should have insisted I go to bed as soon as I arrived. It just hadn't occurred to me that he'd reach me in my dreams. For some reason, because none of us had been able to get a hold of him through conventional methods, I'd just assumed non-conventional methods would be equally as useless.

  My parents' farm materialised around me in what felt like the instant I shut my eyes. Maybe it had. Maybe Michel had been waiting for me to fall asleep. I spun around and there he was, looking healthy and radiant and not the least bit like a prisoner should. I didn't waste any time, but threw myself into his arms the second I saw him. He spun me around clasping me tightly, his face buried against my neck.

  “Ma douce,” he murmured, his hand caught up in my shortened hair, the other holding me close. “Are you all right?”

  “I'm fine,” I answered, pulling back to get a good look at him. I searched his face for signs of pain or discomfort, but all I saw was relief. And love. He smiled under my scrutiny.

  “I am fine also, ma belle.” His fingers brushed my cheek. “Where are you?”

  “At home in New Zealand, the fairy came with me. Everybody is ecstatic to hear you are alive.” He chuckled quietly then, but didn't say anything. “What does the Champion want with you?”

  “The usual. She is cautious by nature, my return has surprised her.”

  “Good surprise or bad surprise?”

  “It is difficult to
say. But I cannot see her stalling much longer. She will lay her cards on the table before long.”

  I must have looked concerned because his face softened further and he leaned in and kissed my forehead, whispering against my skin, “I am well versed with her tactics, ma douce. I have known her for centuries. She is a creature of habit. It is merely a game she must play and I am very good at such games. I will convince her I am trustworthy, but I cannot chance talking mind to mind with you right now. She is watching me closely.” The Champion could read minds with little to no effort at all. She didn't need a connection or Bond, she didn't need the thoughts to be projected. She didn't just pluck the odd one here and there. She was capable of reading every thought you ever had, if she so chose.

  I pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Have you been hearing my thoughts?” I had been trying on and off since we returned to project my thoughts to him, when I had found him no longer with me.

  “I heard your first attempt to contact me and then was forced to block the rest. The Champion would have heard them too.”

  “So, why come to me in a dream?” Surely that was equally as dangerous.

  “Her talent does not breach dreams, that is unique to me.”

  I suddenly felt a weight lift off my shoulders. I hadn't realised how concerned I was that Michel had not been speaking in my mind. I couldn't understand that he could reach me from Álfheimr and then not be able to reach me from the Iunctio's Palais back in our realm. I relaxed against his chest and let him engulf me in his arms.

  “You smell delightful,” he said softly, his face once again buried in my neck. “I want to devour you.” His lips started brushing against my skin, his teeth gently scraping. His tongue lay a wet line down my neck and then he suckled on my pulse point. “Ma douce,” he murmured. Such hunger and need and longing in those words.

  I didn't argue when he lay me down on the grass and moulded himself against me. I didn't complain when his hands began smoothing over my bare legs beneath the flowing white dress he had me in, in this dream. I greedily accepted his lips on mine. His tongue wrapped around mine. My own hands finding a path up his back, over the white shirt he was wearing. Up into his long dark hair. Fingering every silken strand, relishing the softness and scent when I pulled his hair free of its clasp. It fanned around his face and brushed against the naked skin at my neck making tingles dance across my body in its wake.

 

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