Forbidden Drink

by Nicola Claire

I just glared at him as he bent to pull me to my feet and into his arms. We stared at each other for a long moment, he'd wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close, unable to look away. The thing with vampires is, they love confrontation. I'm not so good at it, I run whenever I can, but vampires, they love it. They also love shows of power and strength, and I had not only confronted all the vampires in this room, but shown them just how much mojo I really had. Michel was in heaven right now, luxuriating in my actions, like a cat rolling in the sun.

  Blondie coughed into her hand. It wasn't uncomfortable, just a sound to bring us out from the bubble Michel had created.

  “Ah yes, Erika. So good to see you made it.” Michel turned me in his arms to face the petite vampire. “Erika Anders, my kindred Nosferatin, Lucinda Monk.”

  Erika bowed at the waist, her fisted hand across her chest, the formal bow a vampire makes to their master, or another of equal standing.

  “I pledge my undying allegiance to my master's kindred Nosferatin.” Oh, here we go, I'd heard this one before. All of Michel's vampires had made the same proclamation when I joined with Michel, but I hadn't met Erika before, she was new to me. And the thought that she was one of Michel's made a small flutter of anxiety, no maybe jealousy, settle in the pit of my stomach. “But, if you ever pull a stunt like that again, Nosferatin, I will impale you. Not kill you, mind you, but maim. Definitely maim.”

  My mouth dropped open in utter surprise and I felt Michel begin to laugh, his body shaking as he held me against him.

  “Oh I have missed you, Erika. Welcome home.”

  “It's a pleasure to be here master.”

  Michel huffed. “Since when have you called me master?”

  “Since you joined with a powerful Nosferatin.”

  “Oh, am I finally worthy of your respect, little one?”

  She laughed and it was delicate but strong, a full throat laugh, that made the other male vampires in the club turn to watch her.

  Dangerous this one, I thought.

  Indeed, replied Michel. I just elbowed him in his solar plexus as a returning answer, receiving a satisfying grunt in reply.

  Erika smiled. I think she liked that I held my own with the master, clearly she wasn't one for conventional vampire hierarchy. Maybe we could get along after all.

  Michel led us over to a private booth, the club had opened up again, Norms returning none the wiser. The vampires peeling off into the night, only a handful remaining, socialising, guarding, whatever the hell they were meant to be doing. Doug, Michel's vampire barman, brought a tray of drinks over and surprisingly a plate of cheese and crackers for me. He just winked as he placed them in front of me, no words, he's a vamp of little words. And then he headed back to his station at the bar.

  I wasn't so sure I could stomach food after that little incident, my mind was still reeling from what I had done. Michel simply placed his arm over the back of our bench seat and gently stroked the back of my neck. The motion alone calming me, settling my stomach and allowing me to breathe.

  He can feel my emotions through the connection we have. He would have been able to tell what I was experiencing, the pain I was putting myself through, he was simply doing his part as my kindred and grounding me again. I picked up a cracker and began to nibble the edge.

  “So, how fares the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave?” Michel began to sip his Merlot, still stroking my neck, still giving me that connection to his calmer self.

  “Well, it's definitely brave, but for vampires, I'm not so sure of the free,” Erika replied, she flicked a glance at me and then continued. “But, nothing new to tell since my last report.”

  “You can speak freely in front of Lucinda, she is well aware of our relationship difficulties with the American Families,” Michel offered.

  I nodded. “I met a representative of the Council of Families once, we had a disagreement.” He'd appeared in Michel's bar one night when there was a private vampire function on, the type where the humans in attendance are all either part of the menu or part of the entertainment. I hadn't realised and walked right into it. He'd assumed I was dinner. I didn't much go for that.

  “Oh, that would be Jonathan.” Erika laughed, another one of those delicate but throaty peals. “That would also explain why he is fixated with you.”

  “Fixated with me?” I looked at Michel, he just did one of his shrugs that always seemed to be so elegant on him.

  “What is there not to be fixated with, ma douce?”

  I rolled my eyes at Erika, she chortled.

  “So, you live in America?” I asked her, realising I was about to chomp into my fourth cracker and cheese. So much for my conscience having an effect on my appetite.

  “Lived. I guess I'm setting up home here now.”

  I frowned. “Why?”

  Erika looked pointedly at Michel. “You haven't told her?”

  Michel didn't look uncomfortable when I glanced at him, just relaxed, sipping his wine. “Why don't you, little one.”

  I don't know what sort of relationship Michel and Erika had, but the fact that he had a pet name for her said something. I hadn't decided if it was something worthy of my jealousy or not yet, I was tending towards not. I liked her, I figured the pet name was more of a tease than an endearment and I felt her struggling not to rise to the bait.

  “I'm to be your trainer.” Erika smiled at me as she said it, as though this should have been the best news I'd had all week. Not hard, considering the week I'd had, but still.

  “I already have a trainer.”

  “A Nosferatin trainer who can teach you how to kill vampires. I think your troubles have increased a little from just the solitary night time fanged variety. Or so I hear.”

  “You mean the Taniwhas?”

  She nodded. “Silver will harm them, but getting a stake anywhere near them may prove fatal to you. Somehow I don't think Michel would go for that.” She flicked a smile at Michel and winked. Actually winked. I don't think I'd seen anyone wink at Michel before.

  He shook his head in admonishment and turned more towards me. “Erika is my Sword, among other things, but she has been recalled here to me to help train you. I think it is time for you to expand your weapon base. A sword will have a far greater chance against the Taniwhas, than your usual arsenal and let us not forget the multitudes of vampires currently on their way now.”

  No, how could we forget those? As we were flying back from Paris last week I received another Nosferatin power. Although calling this a power would mean it would help me in some way, but from what I can tell so far, it's not going to help, but hinder. I am the Sanguis Vitam Cupitor or Blood Life Seeker, which basically means I can seek out all the Dark or evil vampires in the world and see where they are, what they're doing and how many there happen to be. Now, with this new power, they can suddenly see me. And the sense I got when they realised this, was that they wanted to meet me in person, fang to face.

  Nero has not been helpful in unravelling this new mystery. At first he seemed surprised, shocked even, but now he just avoids talking about it at all cost. I don't know what he's hiding, but I trust Nero implicitly. I'll wait until he's ready to divulge, but in the meantime, I keep a constant tab on those Dark vampires, almost seeking every few hours or so, just to see how close they have come. Right now, they're reticent, unsure what will happen when they do come, but I feel their need, I feel their hunger. They will come. It's just a matter of time. And when they do, I need to be ready. Maybe carrying a sword would not be a bad thing after all.

  “So, you just gave up your life in America and came home to your master?” I'd turned back to Erika. I wanted to know how happy she was about this new environmental change in her life. How happy she was to be training me.

  She shrugged, another elegant movement that only vampires can seem to master. “He calls, I come running. It's just how it is.”

  “It doesn't bother you?” Michel was staying very quiet through all of this, just sipping his
wine, stroking my neck. Damn, but if he couldn't be casual when the shit might be hitting the fan.

  “I would rather be serving here than in America. They are different from us, they are fiercer and yet more controlled. The families are run like an American gangster movie. The punishment for disobedience, of any kind, is fatal.”

  “Not something our Erika can tolerate with ease,” Michel decided to add.

  She smiled crookedly at him. “No. I have trouble with toe-ing the line sometimes, but I know my place.” Then she shook her head. “But America, it's different. Even I was scared.”

  “How long had you been there?” Me again.

  “Ten years.”

  Wow. Ten years and just like that she's called home and comes running. I shook my head, I just didn't get vampires sometimes.

  Erika leaned forward over the table towards me, registering my confusion. “It's not just that he commands, Lucinda, it's that we want to serve him. It's the blood bond, there is nowhere I would rather be than near my master and serving a purpose he needs.”

  I turned to Michel. “And this doesn't seem creepy to you? Not allowing them to have a choice?”

  He stopped stroking my neck and just looked at me. “We are vampyre, my dear.”

  Nothing else, just that.

  Even after all of this time, even after practically living with him for the past two months, I still didn't really understand them.

  I suppressed a shiver. “Well, I'm glad I'm not a vampire then.”

  “So am I,” Michel whispered.

  Chapter 4

  Shall We Dance?

  That did it for my appetite though, I pushed the remaining crackers and cheese aside and folded my arms across my chest. OK. So, it might have been a bit petulant, but still, call and come running just didn't sit well with me. Especially for this vivacious, smart mouthed blonde vamp, who seemed to be able to tease Michel and hold her own on equal footing. I suddenly felt like she needed protection from him. Somehow, I think she would have disagreed.

  Michel laughed quietly, he could read me like a book.

  “I think it might be time to demonstrate to my kindred just how capable you are, Erika and therefore how important you are to me.” He paused long enough for me to unfold my arms and turn to look at him

  “Shall we dance, little one?” He was looking at Erika.

  My head shot towards her to see her response. She just slowly smiled. “It has been a while since I kicked your butt, Michel. Let's see if you've forgotten any of what I've taught you.”

  He laughed out loud at that, obviously thinking it was riotously funny, but slid out of the bench seat we were on and offered me his hand, still laughing, chuckling. This was going to be entertaining, whatever the hell it was going to be.

  We walked towards the second private area to branch off Sensations main club rooms, this was where the bar had a storeroom and the sleeping quarters for some of Michel's vampires could be found. It also had a very large room which had been turned into a daytime retreat for the vamps. Complete with private bar facilities, couches and at the moment a big expanse of nothing. I think the plan was to bring in a pool table, some other entertainment, maybe a large flat screen T.V. Even vampires need something to do during the day. But I was guessing we were heading there for the large expanse of nothing and not to play poker on the little table in the corner.

  There were a couple of vamps in the room when we entered, but they just nodded and left as soon as we arrived. No doubt Michel had given them direction through that telepathic link he has with all of his vampires. So, it was just Michel, me and Erika with a large long bag. She dropped the bag on the floor and proceeded to pull out wrapped lengths, which on closer inspection turned out to be swords. Wickedly sharp, shiny swords.

  She pulled one from its sheath, or scabbard and brandished it in the air, twisting it one way then the other, catching the light in the room every now and then. It was a little longer than the one she had used on me earlier, with a diamond shape at the base of its hilt and a curved cross bar separating hilt from blade. The hilt was wrapped in a bronze type covering, very plain and simple, almost utilitarian. Both hilt and blade together were about four feet long, the blade about two inches wide, tapering to a tip at the end. It looked like it would be heavy, but she brandished it like it weighed mere ounces.

  “This,” she said looking at me, “is a Svante Sword. The sword of the viceroy. It is from my ancestral home. Not an original, I've had it altered slightly; better materials, lighter weight, but its design is original Svante. It is a good, strong weapon. One that calls on the history of the warrior diplomat who first wielded it. I won't train you with this one exactly, but one based on its design. But, for tonight's demonstration,” - She turned and smiled at Michel. - “it will do nicely.”

  Michel had stripped off his Armani jacket and crisp white shirt while Erika had been talking and now stood opposite her on the bare mat that had been placed on the large rec room floor. He was naked from waist up, making it hard for me to look anywhere else but his deep cream coloured torso. I licked my lips self-consciously and willed myself to behave.

  Erika pulled a second Svante Sword from her bag and walked towards Michel, handing him one with both hands on either end of the sword, bending at the waist, like you'd expect a Japanese swordsman to hand over a Katana. He accepted the blade with two hands and the same bow at the waist. She returned to her other sword and lifted it, then settled herself into a fighting stance, legs scissored, sword raised only slightly in front. Michel mimicked her pose.

  “Let's dance,” she whispered. Michel nodded his head slowly in agreement.

  I don't know what I had expected to see, the swords looked large and slightly cumbersome, even though they both wielded them with such ease, but it was a dance of sorts. It was beautiful and graceful and the only sounds initially were the clanging of the blades, that ringed around the room. Their bodies glistened in the lights, Erika had stripped to just her jeans and tank top, she had removed her boots and socks and was in bare feet. Michel still had his shoes on, but his body shone in the glow of the bulbs overhead, almost luminous. They moved like dancers, swirling and turning, ducking and diving, but all of it was exquisite, elegant, surreal and fast. Very fast. Vampire fast.

  They blurred here and there, then stilled to parry a blow, thrust the sword, block a strike. The clanging of the blades got faster, more rhythmic in nature, as if they were both giving themselves over to the moment and dancing to their own combined beat. It was beautiful. It was mesmerizing. It was a dangerous dance for devils alone. Neither landing a blow, making that first cut and although they were only demonstrating the captivating beauty of swordsmanship, I knew they were also playing for keeps.

  I'd been watching both of them as a unit, one moving forward the other retreating, then counter attacking, the to and fro between them dazzling, but my natural pull towards my kindred meant my gaze somehow shifted there of its own accord. I found myself unable to look away from his body as it flexed and twisted, stretched and moved in a motion that was simply hypnotic. His bare torso showing every minute muscular movement, the ripple of his upper chest, the curve of his waist, the flight of his body in full battle. It was obvious Michel knew how to wield a sword, second nature, something he had done for centuries and he was breathtaking.

  “You're being cruel Michel.” Erika spoke between warding off a strike and returning with another thrust of her sword towards his abdomen. He dodged it easily and repositioned for further contact.

  “Whatever do you mean, Erika?” he casually replied.

  “Her heartbeat has trebled, she can't take much more of watching you like this.”

  “I am well aware of what my kindred's heartbeat is doing.” His voice was level, but held a slight amusement.

  I felt the blush creep up my face and was unable to stop it. I willed my heartbeat to lower, even closed my eyes to stop looking at the magnificent male in front of me, but the damage had already been don
e. Great. Does everyone know I lust after him?

  Erika laughed, no doubt at my discomfort, but Michel took advantage of her lowered guard and sliced a line from the neck of her tank top to her waist, making the fabric gape in the front. She flashed electric blue eyes, threaded with shades of cyan and turquoise, at him.

  “Now look whose heartbeat has climbed?” Michel quietly offered.

  She rallied and increased her speed and all of a sudden what had seemed a fast and furious, but friendly fight, turned into a maelstrom of slashes and parries and clanging metal against metal, in a whirlwind of colour that was blinding. I held my breath, unable to tell who was landing blows and who wasn't, until finally Erika's sword went flying through the air, arcing across the expanse of space, glinting in the lights, to clatter against the far wall. Michel held his sword to her neck, just as she had held hers earlier against mine in the club.

  “Do you concede, little one?” he asked, barely out of breath.

  She glared at him briefly then nodded. He removed his sword and bowed towards her slowly. She followed suit rubbing her neck, where he had pricked her skin, as she stood up.

  “So, have I passed the test?” Michel asked as he walked over to the fridge in the corner and pulled out a bottle of water, taking a long drink.

  “You always do, Michel, but one day, one day I'll win.” She said it with such defiance, he laughed. A low rumble in his chest.

  “I would expect nothing less.”

  His eyes flicked to me. I still hadn't managed to get my breathing entirely under control, but my heart rate had quieted.

  “Your turn,” he said, holding my gaze and smiling wickedly. Then he went to sit down on the couch, settling in to watch.

  “Wh..what?” I stammered. You have got to be joking, I couldn't wield a sword at this woman to save myself.

  “It's all right, chica, you can use your stake. I just want to get a feel for what I'm working with, that's all.”

  Erika had replaced her sword in its scabbard and had ripped her ruined tank top off and stood in a sports bra and jeans. Not in the least bit self-conscious. She looked me over. I was wearing my usual evening hunter gear; short black mini skirt, black tights and boots, fitted black Tee and a custom made black jacket. Custom made to hide two silver stakes and a silver knife. You wouldn't even know they were there unless you knew me. I never went anywhere without my stakes. I even slept with one under my pillow, although Michel had refused that notion when I shared his bed. I couldn't blame him, even I would have baulked at that, had I been a vampire.