Forbidden Drink

by Nicola Claire

  “God,” I managed, as he held me up against his chest with one arm wrapped around my back. “That was unexpected.”

  He laughed, his chest rumbling with the sound, so deep and attractive.

  “Does that mean I win?” he whispered against my hair and then gently lay me back down on the bed, starting to move against me, almost subconsciously, his hips rubbing back and forward, his length sliding in and out. My body shuddering in an overload of sensations that just didn't seem to want to stop.

  I wanted to answer him, to make him pause so I could catch my breath, but he had found his rhythm and he just pulled me along with him, making all thought escape my head and my hands start to grab him, my fingers digging in as another orgasm built inside me and his pace picked up and his breathing became ragged. And then we both came at the same time, calling out in joy, clasping each other closely and collapsing back against the bed.

  “Oh God,” he said in a rush of air against my neck. “I had not intended to stop things just yet, but you seem to have caught me unaware.”

  I laughed, as his arm came over my chest, his face buried in my neck and he pulled me close. “Does that mean I win?”

  He shook his head. “Oh no, ma cherie, not on this. The challenge has been met and I am most decidedly the winner.”

  I let his words wash over me. I kept my breathing even, concentrated on my heartbeat, so it would not hitch and willed my body not to stiffen.

  The challenge. I had forgotten the challenge. I had even stupidly thought that the challenge no longer existed. But to Gregor, someone who has never lost a challenge in his long, long life, it would always have existed. He tricked me into the challenge. My escape from his chambers in Rome when I Dream Walked there, him calling off the Iunctio who were hot on my tail, for his right to court me, to seduce me.

  He had won all right and I had been a fool. And now I had more than the uninvited images of Michel swirling around in my head. Now, I had to contend with my revenge being manipulated by another too.

  Could nothing be because I designed it? Was I forever to be the pawn in someone else's game?

  Chapter 14

  Broken Hearts and Apple Tea

  Gregor fell asleep some time later, the covers pulled over us and the sun now, no doubt, high in the sky, but I couldn't sleep. I couldn't relax. I could hardly breathe.

  I silently slipped out of the bed, from under his arm and grabbed his shirt - the quickest thing available to cover my naked body - doing up the buttons automatically, while I watched him sleep so soundly, so peacefully in his bed. He was beautiful, that was no lie and I rarely spare time on regrets. I'd chosen to sleep with him, to feel his hard body against mine, to have him inside me, on top of me. For whatever reason, it had been a conscious, adult choice. I could blame no other but me.

  But, as I quietly stepped into the lounge, noticing the shutters were down tight and the room was awash in an unnatural dark, I also felt an overwhelming sense of confusion. For so long now, I've felt like my life was tumbling out of control. First, there was the whole vampires exist thing. The creatures under your bed, in your closet, when you were five years old, actually friggin' exist. There's loss of control right there, your universe turned upside down. Then there was the fact that I am not human. Not totally, anyway. But, on top of that, I would have died if I hadn't have joined with one of those creatures from under my bed, from inside my closet. I would have died if I didn't spend the rest of my now very long life tied to one. Some choice that. There was no choice. There was no control. It just was.

  Then of course, there's the whole vampire trying to control me issue. Michel always has, right from the start. But now, now that he loves me, it's worse. Sometimes, I can hardly breathe for the noose around my neck. It is what he is. Vampires spend their entire existence controlling others. Gregor did it too, tricking me into sharing Sigillum with him was a type of control. I had no choice. And now he has proven, yet again, that he is in control. Manipulating me through the challenge, taking away my revenge at Michel. Making it no longer just mine.

  Images flashed through my mind, taunting me. But no longer just images of Michel in French Pretty's arms, now they were overlaid with images of me in Gregor's. I had set out to achieve revenge, to take back control, but now I just felt at a loss.

  I rarely spare time on regrets, but I think I might just regret what had happened now.

  I let the nausea of that realisation wash over me until it started to fade and I was left shivering in a curled up ball on the couch. If there had been no challenge and I hadn't been so desperately trying to take control of my life, if those images hadn't invaded my mind uninvited, would I have slept with Gregor? And with that thought came the others, the ones I'd been denying myself feeling, the ones that allowed me to crumble, to admit a weakness, to really, truly, regret. Michel.

  What have I done? I am not a vampire. A vampire will do anything to survive. Anything at all. Michel fed off French Pretty because I denied him my blood. Denied him sustenance when he needed it most. And feeding is sensual to a vampire. Coupled with a powerful spell placed on him by the Nemesis, how could Michel have behaved otherwise? But me? I am better than this, I am not a vampire. I do not have an excuse, other than revenge.

  I didn't realise I had started crying, those damn sneaky tears. I didn't realise I was moaning, a soft whimpering sound, so awful, so not me. I let it all come out, every emotion, every chastisement, every curse for the stupidity I had committed and then when I thought I could not take it any more, I felt him. He hadn't been there before, he'd only just come to me now, sensing my pain, hearing my curses, cursing myself to hell and back, feeling my regret.

  Michel's power rushed through the Bond to me, trying to comfort me, trying to take away the pain, but he didn't know why I was feeling this way, he didn't know what I had done. If he knew he wouldn't have tried to help me, to take care of me. He needed to know before he offered that unconditional support. So, I opened my mind to him, not showing what I had done, that would have been cruel, but letting him see my thoughts, the reason behind my grief and anguish.

  His power fluctuated briefly, as he realised what it was that I had done and then I felt the backlash of his pain and despair and anger, and before he could strike out I shut the door. I deserved his anger, I deserved everything he threw at me, but I simply was not brave enough to take it. I was a coward and a cheat and an absolute useless piece of crap who couldn't even take control back over her life without screwing it up some more. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me straight down into hell.

  I heard a sound at the door and glanced over. Erika came and knelt down beside me, brushing my hair from my eyes, shushing my sobs, rubbing my back. I couldn't hear what she was saying at first, too hung up in my misery to listen, but finally I quieted enough to catch her words.

  “He still loves you. He forgives you. Let's go home.”

  I sat up slowly and looked at her, shaking my head. “I don't deserve his forgiveness. I will not except it.”

  “He has offered it, chica. He will not take it back. You need never think of what happened here today again, it is forgotten.”

  I stared at her, incredulously. "How can he forgive me? I can barely forgive him." She opened her mouth to say something, but I pushed her away with a wave of my hand and a shake of my head. "No. He can't forgive me. I did this to hurt him. To teach him a lesson. I did it intentionally. He should be in pain. I know he is in pain, I felt it. He can't have forgiven me. Not that easily. That makes no sense."

  Erika shrugged her shoulders as if to say, but he has and I just felt angrier. The fury rolling around inside me like a caged tiger. It wanted out. First Gregor steals my moment of revenge, taking my control away. Now Michel has the gall to forgive me for something that should not be forgiven so easily. Hell, he had a reason for betraying my trust in Paris and I still find it hard to forgive. There was no way he should be forgiving me this transgression at all.

  "No, Erika.
No." My head was shaking from side to side, my fists were clenched and my heartbeat racing in preparation for some battle that seemed just out of my reach. "Why?" I said it almost to myself, but Erika snorted. Just softly, I don't even think she realised she had reacted to my words. But, I reacted to her.

  I spun around on my seat and grabbed her shoulders, staring her hard in the eyes. "Why would Michel forgive my infidelity so easily. Why, Erika, why?"

  She replied woodenly, automatically, compulsively. "He set you up to fail. He wanted the balance back between you. He was unfaithful, he wanted you to see how easy it was to make that mistake."

  I think I had stopped breathing. I had stopped moving, my fingers a permanent addition to Erika's shoulders. My grip rock solid, my knuckles turned to white. I vaguely acknowledged I had glazed Erika without even being aware of what I was doing. But, it was too late now. I'd opened up Pandora's Box and created an evil that could not be undone.

  "He wanted me to sleep with Gregor?" I said it slowly and more to myself than her, but whatever glaze I had given before was still in effect. Or Erika felt a need to divulge more, because she answered.

  "He didn't think you would follow through. He just wanted you to see how easy it would be to fail. How easy it was for him to fail. He wanted balance."

  I couldn't take this in. “I need a shower,” I whispered, pushing past her and going to find my bag.

  It had been placed in a spare room, so I used the bathroom there to scrub myself raw, scrubbing away my mistakes. Scrubbing away the foul stench of Michel's manipulation. But it didn't make me feel better, the pain of the rough loofah against my skin was a distraction, but as soon as I stopped, the guilt and confusion was back. I stayed under the spray of the shower for a long time, trying to sort my feelings out, trying to organise my thoughts. Why had I done it? Why had I been so determined to seek revenge? That was not me, I am not like that. Petty, vengeful, evil. If I had allowed myself to see what Michel had done without emotion, I would have accepted it eventually. But I didn't allow myself, I clung to those unwanted images, I let them fester and grow. And then I acted like a vampire and struck out.

  And Michel? Oh God, Michel. He had let me come to Wellington, he had planned for me to be tempted by Gregor. He had manipulated me, controlled me. Set me up to fail. I let a huff of indignant air out. He had not expected me to follow through. That's what Erika had said. He wanted to open my eyes, he thought he knew me. He thought that would be enough to even the balance out in our relationship. He didn't know me well. Neither did I, it would seem.

  I dressed in a haze in the bathroom, but felt more in control of myself when I was fully clothed in my familiar hunter gear. My jacket was out in the lounge, so I could grab that and head out the door as soon as night fell. With any luck, Gregor was a sound and long sleeper and I could escape without a confrontation, my worst nightmare after last night.

  I shouldn't have been shocked or surprised when I exited the bathroom. I had been in there quite a while and this was Gregor, but I jumped when I noticed him sitting on the bed, waiting. His elbows on his knees, his head forward staring at the floor. He sat up straighter when the door clicked shut behind me, his face carefully neutral, but his shoulders slightly tight.

  “I woke and you were gone, ma cherie. The bed was colder without you there. I missed you.”

  I just started at him. He would have seen it on my face: regret. My usual rigid control of my facial features simply lost to me right now. Loss of control, very familiar pattern in my life right now.

  “Do not regret this, Lucinda, please.” He didn't stand up, just kept looking at me, willing me to agree. I couldn't.

  “I love Michel. I shouldn't have done this. This was not me.” I was a fucking idiot.

  He ran a hand through his dark hair in obvious frustration. Then stood and walked toward me.

  He stopped a foot away, no closer and just watched me. So tall and dark and handsome, taking up more space than he had any right to take. I kept my eyes on the blue bedspread to the side and behind him, determined not to look him in the face.

  His hand reached up and fingers cupped my chin, bringing my eyes reluctantly to his.

  “Do not regret what we just shared, it was beautiful. It was a gift and one I have every intention of sharing with you again, my sweet little Hunter.”

  “You won't feel that way once you've slept on it. This time tomorrow you'll realise, it was just the challenge. You've won, Gregor, it's over. You can let me go.”

  "To a vampyre there can be no greater thrill than the pursuit of one's desire. I desire you, Lucinda. You desire me. What is so wrong with fulfilling one's desires?"

  I stood there silently, unable to form a sentence. In a nutshell, Gregor had summed himself up. I had always known he was a hedonist. Michel had warned me and now I had irrefutable proof. Gregor didn't love me, not really. I think perhaps he loved the game, the challenge I represented. But it wasn't love for me.

  I had cheated on my relationship - a relationship with someone who did love me - with someone who only wanted to win me. To win the game. I have forsaken all that I am for this?

  “I have to go, Gregor.”

  “The sun has not yet set. Erika cannot go out.”

  I didn't really give a damn. I had to leave, now. I know it was running. I know it was leaving the horrible mess I had created piled high and still tangled, but I had get away from him.

  I had to get away from me.

  “Leave me please. I'll just sleep in here until the sun sets. I need to be alone.”

  He stood up, his hands running up my sides, from my hips to my upper arms as he rose. He didn't say anything, just leaned down and kissed the top of my head and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  I laid myself down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. I must have laid like that for half an hour, finally allowing my body to relax, then closing my eyes and doing the only thing I could think of that would get me out of this sun kissed prison. I needed guidance. I needed a friend. So, I Dream Walked to Nero.

  I came to standing in the corner of his training room, he was fighting Amisi, demonstrating moves, correcting her posture. She was good, at only 19 she had the skills I only recently acquired at 25. Amisi was one of Nero's extended family, an immature Nosferatin. She could fight, hold her own against the vampires, but she wouldn't come into her Nosferatin powers until she was 25 and joined with a vampire. She was going to be formidable.

  Recently, she had been kidnapped by some very nasty vampires intent on taking over the world. Nero and I had rescued her, I almost died doing it, since then she's been a fan. I've even had the odd training session with her, she can't Dream Walk, but I come to Cairo occasionally when I Walk. It's nice for a change of scene.

  They hadn't noticed me appearing, something of a novelty, usually I poof into existence right in the middle of the mat, almost getting bowled over by whatever move they are currently practising, so this was a nice surprise. I sat down cross legged on the floor, quietly, and settled in to watch the show. I could take a moment to enjoy Nero move and Amisi dazzle and then I would sort my chaotic thoughts out.

  They had maybe been going for another fifteen minutes before Amisi tripped whilst trying to execute and Crescent Kick, falling flat on her stomach and looking at me. She went red in the face and jumped to her feet.

  “No fair, Lucinda! How long have you been watching him kicking my butt?” Amisi has a lovely thick Egyptian accent, but speaks English to perfection, recently improving it even further with my choice word selection and carefully scripted guidance. There's just no point speaking a second language if you don't know the slang.

  I laughed - surprising myself with the sound - at her outrage, knowing she'd calm in a moment, nothing riles Amisi for long. I flicked a glance at Nero, standing still, so intense, watching me.

  “You honour us with your presence, Kiwi. Have you come to train?”

  I attempted a smile back at him, trying t
o elicit a grin out of that strictly set face. It worked, his lips twitched slightly at the corners, but his brow furrowed in direct contrast to the action.

  “I needed a distraction and what better way to be distracted than by my two favourite Nosferatins.”

  Amisi jumped up and down, she was still so young, but looked so much older. The world she had grown up in was not safe, was not always kind. She was surrounded by love of course, but evil lurks out there and she knew her nightmares were real.

  “I'll grab some apple tea. We were going to break now anyway, weren't we, Nero?”

  Nero just sighed at her and shot me a pointed glance. Disrupting his training sessions was not something he tolerated lightly.

  “All right, Amisi, you know how much Kiwi loves our apple tea.”

  She scooted off and Nero headed to the other corner where a pile of cushions were scattered on the floor. I got up and joined him. I'd only recently learned the knack of falling gracefully onto Egyptian cushions. Prior to mastering the move, I had been an embarrassment to my sex. Short skirts are just not lounging wear. Not that I would wear this outfit if I was actually in Egypt, I know not to offend, but when Dream Walking it's only Nero and Amisi who can see me. She doesn't care and Nero has never complained, often glancing at me right when I sit, trying no doubt to cop a flash. He is a man after all.

  “So, what is on your mind, Kiwi?” he said as he settled back against the brightly coloured cushions, his white linen top making the dark colour of his skin simply gorgeous. I have always wanted to reach out and touch his skin, to make sure it didn't rub off, to make sure it wasn't fake, but I had enough boy problems right now, overstepping the boundaries with Nero was not one of them.

  “Nothing. I just fancied a visit.”

  He huffed at me. “I know you too well, Lucinda. You seek a distraction because you are running from a problem.”

  I frowned at him. What the hell? Why am I such an easy book to read.?