Forbidden Drink

by Nicola Claire

  I decided all I could give her was time and I ended up being the one to make pancakes and bake blueberry muffins and force feed my friend. Out of desperation, when we hit the two week mark, I called Gregor. His human vigilante problem had been fixed, there didn't seem to be any of them left alive. So, now I really was an orphan. Other than my Aunt and Uncle, who are really the only ones who count anyway, I have no relatives. Well, none that I'm aware of. I still have questions about my father, about what happened on that South Island road when they were killed, but I have no one to ask. My Aunt and Uncle wouldn't know. They didn't even know I was a half breed supernatural, how would they know about my heritage at all?

  With Michel's permission I invited Gregor to Auckland. I was grasping at straws, but Amisi had promised she would take on the role of Nosferatin in Wellington once the war had been won, despite the fact that she didn't accompany me when I went there once a week, to hunt. Gregor and I had developed a kind of easy relationship. He'd still flirt, but he rarely touched. I think he had finally got the message when it was only Michel who could calm me after Nero died. Apparently Gregor had tried, to no avail. That's why he had allowed Michel to enter his city. He couldn't bear to watch me so distraught.

  Gregor turned up on a stormy Spring night and I left him to Amisi and the house and took a walk along the beach under the solemn gaze of the moon. I asked Nut if the pain would ever leave me, if I could accept what had happened to my friend. She didn't answer, but the wind died down and just caressed, no longer battering me with sea spray, but warming me with a soft touch here and a gentle sweep there. I felt desolate, but not alone and I knew Nero was with her, with our Nut. And that she was taking good care of him until I arrived and could apologise for the final words I never managed to say. That I loved him, maybe not the way he had wanted, but in a way that meant more to me than just a friend.

  I hadn't been able to tell he was there, I was on a beach and he always smells of fresh sea salt spray to me, so his scent had been covered by nature, but the fresh smell of clean cut grass did cross my mind briefly. It wasn't until he stepped out in front of me though, hands in his black trousers, open neck black shirt rolled up his beautifully sculptured arms, his lovely long near-black hair blowing in the gentle breeze, that I noticed him at all. He smiled and took my breath away, as he always does. As he has always done.

  “I thought you might like some company, ma douce.”

  “I'd love some.”

  He came and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, kissed my forehead and starting walking slowly with me in the sand. No one else was around, just us, the waves, the odd seagull taking a late night dip and the moon.

  “Do you think Gregor can reach her?”

  “I don't know. I hope so," I replied, leaning my body against the length of his. "At this point I'm prepared to bring in anyone if it will make a difference. He is going to be her Master of the City and I get the impression, there's something more there too.”

  “Ah.” He laughed quietly. “You are hoping for a trigger other than work, to flip our Amisi back to life. I do hope you are right, ma douce. For many reasons.”

  I could just imagine what other reasons Michel would have. If Gregor showed a romantic interest in Amisi, wouldn't it just make Michel's day?

  “I do still care for him, ma douce. It is not all business.”

  Yeah, right.

  He squeezed my shoulders at that come back.

  We walked on silently for a while. Enjoying the setting, enjoying each other.

  “We should do this more often. I do not think we stop to breathe enough, you and I.”

  “It's a bit hard, Michel, with a war and crazy shape shifters and idiotic humans and a Dark goddess who isn't dead, but just biding her time before she can take another shot at me.”

  He stopped me and turned me towards himself, wrapping both arms around my shoulders and lying his forehead against mine. This is one of his favourite positions, head to head as it were. He likes it, I think, because he can smell me, can feel my breath against his skin, where it hits his throat just below his chin. He brought one hand back around to tip my chin up and studied my face for a moment, taking all of me in. The colour of his eyes was hard to ascertain in the moon light, I was guessing still a deep blue, nothing else, but when he whispered against my lips, “We should make time.” Then gently brushed his own mouth against mine and slipped his tongue inside, I was guessing a little indigo, maybe amethyst was starting to build there, in the depths, changing the deep blue to something altogether different and just as beautiful.

  We kissed slowly at first, then more deeply. He pulled my body against his, moulding me with his own, wrapping me up in his arms in a beautiful blanket of Michel, something beyond intimate, beyond perfect and all mine. His hands drifted lower, down my spine, into the dip at the base of my back, cupping both my buttocks, lifting me off the ground and forcing my legs to wrap around him. I could feel his response to me then, hard and firm and long, straining against his trousers, pleading to be released.

  I thought he might very well take this further, right here, right now. You know how he is with public displays of affection and you couldn't get more public than the beach, despite it being after midnight. And he was still very much on the claiming wagon, no changes there, despite the fact that we were spending every day together and practically every night. How the claiming had not yet been satisfied, I do not know, but I guess I was still holding something back, I just wish I knew what it was. Michel never complained though, he just took what he could get and kept giving in return. And was I really that upset about being claimed? Not a chance, this is Michel. I could never say no, even at the beginning and definitely not now.

  He had walked us over to a low stone wall that surrounds the beach and propped me up on it, still kissing, still touching, still rubbing that beautiful length of his against me. Teasing, letting me know exactly what he was planning to do. I was giving everything I had back too.

  Just when I thought he couldn't hold out any further I felt it. At first I thought it was my seeking ability, some sort of call from a vampire in the CBD. They still didn't seem to want to meet me out in St. Helier's Bay, it was always a knock on the metaphysical door and off to the city I went. I think that's why Michel was stalling on my apartment, he liked me having that warning. I didn't really complain. Where would I fit Amisi, a chest full of scrolls, Erika, who was equally part of my home life and Michel's gym in my one bedroom apartment? I think he may well have won the move-in-with-me argument. Even if it wasn't Sensations it was still his home.

  But, it wasn't my Prohibitum Bibere powers that called right now, it was something else altogether. It was another bright light, they always are, they always start that way. I knew it was a power, I'd received a few by now, I knew what they felt like. And I knew Michel was aware too, still in my thoughts, still with me. How many more powers, though, could there be? Wasn't I done already? Hadn't I got my cup full of mojo by now? It seemed not.

  Rather than fight it, as I had done so in the past, I just let it wash all over me. I was vaguely aware of a shot of light shooting straight up to the stars, kind of like those huge search lights they have on tall buildings in the city at New Years Eve, strobing across the galaxy, blinding aliens in the Milky Way. I think Michel might have said something, something that sounded pretty much like, “Merde!” But I couldn't do anything about it, I was at its beck and call, not the other way around. Kind of familiar. Nut always gives me powers that I have absolutely no control over for at least the first few weeks, why should his one be any different?

  When it finally subsided, I don't know how long it took, but it felt like a week, I collapsed against Michel's chest, his firm arms holding me tight and we both held our breaths to see what monster would peek out from behind a closed door. When nothing happened for at least ten minutes we began to relax, incrementally, slowly, uncertainly. Still nothing went boo!

  “Wow. That was anti-climactic,” I said into
the still night air.

  “With you, ma douce, nothing is anti-climactic.”

  “What do you think it is?”

  He brushed my hair out of my eyes, returned his head to his favourite position and inhaled deeply.

  “No matter what it is, my love, we will face it together.”

  And I knew he was right. We would. It wouldn't be easy, it wouldn't nice, this Prophesy was no picnic, no slow walk in the park. It was not about comfort, but I knew I would have him beside me and that's all that mattered.

  Right now, that's all that mattered to me.

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  Read on for a sneak peek at Michel's view...

  Chapter 23 Forbidden Drink (Kindred, Book 3)

  The Spy

  From Michel's Point of View

  The wind howls in the trees and nips at our coats like a hungry wolf. A more appropriate scene I can not imagine for our undertaking tonight. Neither of us speak, just allow our preternatural senses to roam. Sorting sensations out one by one.

  Heartbeats, several. The Hapū is all home tonight it would seem. I hadn't expected anything less. They knew we were coming, they would be prepared. I roll my shoulders, but the unease of the situation does not dissipate. We are downwind, so I do not fear they can scent us, but I can scent them. Earthy, a wet woollen smell that crinkles the nose. I stop inhaling.

  "I do not like this." My Second's voice off to my side.

  "I agree." But what choice do I have?

  "They outnumber us twenty to one."

  I interrupt before he gets going. Bruno has a tendency to state the obvious. "It will not come to that. We are here to talk. Nothing more."

  "And you trust them?" He sounds incredulous. I hardly blame him. Rick has made it quite clear he will not cooperate. For the first time in my life I am acting as a man, not as a politician.

  "I trust no one," I reply, hiding my concern from him.

  He grunts. Always so eloquent.

  "How do you wish to play this then?"

  "We drive in, we talk, we drive out." And I held a position on the Iunctio Council for over three centuries? Astounding. Where has the tactician gone?

  Bruno obviously agrees.

  "This is ridiculous, Michel. You are thinking with a different head from the one on your shoulders."

  I round on him in an instant, hand to throat. He does not respond. He expected nothing less.

  "You know I am right," he says roughly. My hand is rigid at his throat.

  If it were anyone else, other than Bruno, I would punish them. But Bruno has long since gained a position of trust. He is one of only a handful who can speak to me in this fashion. My hand releases and I step back.

  "I must try," I say, looking back towards the woods that surround the Hapū land. They are still bleak, still dark, still foreboding.

  Bruno is quiet for a moment, then softly asks, "When did you last see her?"

  I sigh. "Three days."

  "Call this off, Michel. You are not..."

  I don't know what he was about to say, the strong scent of Taniwha interrupts our conversation. Someone approaches.

  We flash away before they catch our own scents. They may be expecting us, but we do not want them to be aware of our presence until we are ready for them to be so.

  The warmth of the Land Rover is a welcome relief from the wind. Bruno doesn't pick up the conversation where it had been stopped, just sits brooding next to me.

  Two centuries I have known this man. Two centuries of offering the words I need to hear, but no one has the courage to deliver. His job has been one borne of difficulties. Too many Masters have surrounded themselves with men who only say what they think their Master would want to hear. I have not. I am thankful for his steadfast presence in my life, but I have no choice here.

  "I have to try, Bruno. She would never forgive me if we went in there and killed them all without trying. If this fails, if they cannot meet us halfway, then we return with the line and do it your way."

  I expect an argument. Bruno has never shied away from a conflict before. But all I get is a low chuckle. I flick my gaze to him out of the corner of my eye. He is shaking his head.

  "She has you wrapped around her little finger, Michel. There isn't a thing you wouldn't do for her love."

  I slowly smile and meet his eyes. I cannot deny it. She is my world. We both end up laughing.

  Bruno knows me better than anyone else. We have been through many experiences together. Even before I turned him, he followed me everywhere I went. His father was a faithful servant, a descendant of many before him just the same. A family I could trust. The least I could do was turn him, when his father begged me to save his son.

  Bittersweet memories of trips to my private residence in the south of France invade my mind. My retreat was my haven. My refuge from the political machinations of the Iunctio Council. I would not have lasted as long as I did, if not for that home. And Giani was a human anchor in my otherwise undead life.

  Bruno was nineteen years old when the illness hit. A strong boy on the brink of adulthood. It was unexpected. They were all unprepared. Their only son, who was proudly following in his father's footsteps. He had committed his life to me the summer before. Sworn to uphold the family's traditions, to keep my secrets, to serve when required, to defend when needed. Every vampyre relies on a contingent of human servants they can trust. I trusted Giani with my life.

  In return I saved the life of his only son from Typhoid Fever.

  We buried Giani - beside his wife, Bruno's mother - on a warm summer's eve. Side by side, shoulder to shoulder, Bruno and I said our farewells. He has been at my shoulder ever since.

  Bruno is watching me when my mind returns to the present, a small smile playing on his lips.

  "Let's go negotiate with some shifters," he offers into the space between us. "Then, God willing, we can beat the crap out of 'em afterwards."

  I start the car and head towards the front entrance of the Hapū land. The minute we cross over the threshold, I can sense them surrounding us. Flanked on all sides, almost as though they are herding us in. For a peaceful meeting, a sharing of words, this is already too confrontational. I fear my hopes have all been in vain.

  My thoughts drift to Lucinda, as the vehicle battles the pot holes and rocks. How many times has she driven this stretch of dirt road? How many times has she been welcomed onto this sacred Taniwha land? I am her kindred Nosferatu. I am Bonded to her. She wears my Sigillum. She is mine. Yet my welcome here will not compare. And now, sadly, neither would hers.

  I want to make this right for her. I want to fix this problem. To strike one thing off that long list she faces every day. The Taniwhas have been growing restless, their threat more of a concern as time passes by. If I can come to an understanding with them, a truce, then Lucinda will sleep easy. No more nightmares about fighting her former best friend. No more looking over her shoulder when a shape shifter is nearby. I want peace for my little Hunter. I want to see that smile on her face which has been missing since this all began.

  The clearing approaches and Bruno sucks in a short breath. He has seen it too. We have a welcoming party. Twenty in Taniwha form, twenty or so on the edges, still human. All in a readying stance. Able to pounce at the drop of a hat. Those not yet transformed, able to change in the blink of an eye. This is not good.

  Do we leave? he asks in my mind, switching to telepathy as we always do in battle.

  I watch with bated breath. No one moves, but the threat has already been made. I cannot see Rick. Is he even here?

  This is n
ot good, Michel. I say we pull out now, regroup and try again another day.

  I am not one to run from confrontation. Neither is Bruno. And him saying this, should make me pause. But all I can see is Lucinda. Worry etching lines into her beautiful face. I cannot walk away from this.

  We stay on guard. He sighs, doesn't even try to hide his disagreement. If things look bad, we run, but not before we try, at least.

  I know he wants to say more, to labour the point. To keep me safe. But, I would walk through the flames of Hell for Lucinda. I open my door to the Land Rover and prepare for some form of scorching. It does not come. The Taniwha hold their ground. Perhaps this will not be Hell after all.

  Bruno walks around my side of the vehicle and stands just behind my right shoulder. How many times have we stood like this, facing off against an opponent? I wait, calmly, patiently. Let them come to me.

  Several minutes tick by, I could stand like this for hours. It is of no consequence to me. But he appears, out of the darkness of surrounding trees. I hear him before I see him. His heartbeat is a little fast. He is excited. Confrontation or trap? I wait, this is his game I play.

  "You are either extremely confident or stupid, Master of the City." Not many men would be brave enough to call me stupid to my face. Rick's statement says more about him than me.

  "Do I have reason to believe this was a poor move, Alpha? We agreed to a meeting, a chance to come to an understanding. Do you go back on your word?" If he knows anything of my kind, he will know words have more meaning than they appear. If he goes back on his word now, I will kill him.

  I let a little of my vampyre out, amethyst glows in the night air lending the space before me an unnatural hue. Several heartbeats in the clearing begin to race.