I blinked at his phrase. Not many people called us that. We are of course, Children of Nut, Children of the Light, but only those in Egypt had ever called me that. Nero had. I took a second look at Geoff. He was pasty pale, the typical English cream skin, so no Egyptian heritage that I could see, but there was something, an age old weariness that clung to his frame. Geoff had been around for a while. I nodded back, downed my drink and slipped off the stool.
By the time I reached the door, Geoff was serving, several ghouls had vanished into the night and no one was paying me an ounce of attention. I wouldn't have been surprised if none of the Norms had even seen me. I had the feeling I had been shielded from their view the moment I entered the pub. Geoff was a powerful ghoul, I really did not want to piss him off.
I forced the unease at having to divulge more information to the man down and took a deep breath in of the cold London night air.
The sun had well and truly retreated for another day and the sky was cloudy and black. I don't even think a star would have been recognisable in the night sky, London just gave off way too much ambient light. And not necessarily the good kind either.
I started my trek back towards Kensington and Samson, thinking a solid meal was the order of the day, maybe I'd grab some bacon and eggs on the way home, some tomatoes, a few hash browns and have a decent fry up. English weather just brought out the stodgy in me.
Despite the chill air, it was actually pleasant walking amongst the crowd, Notting Hill was popular with the tourists and people spilled out of restaurants and upscale bars along the way. I was a third of the way back to Samson's when I felt it. It didn't surprise me, I had kind of been waiting for it since the sun had set. The pull. The evil-lurks-in-my-city pull. The one thing that truly makes me what I am. A vampire hunter.
This one was strong and also familiar. I huffed a laugh out under my breath. I was beginning to think that perhaps he was the only vampire in the city to be breaking the rules. Or maybe the only one to be feeding. I certainly hadn't been called to another for quite some time, so what did that tell you about him?
Alastair was leaving his calling card and I had just picked it up from the silver plated tray.
Alastair, Master of the City, requests the pleasure of your attendance. Dress warm, carry silver and don't be late.
Chapter 18
Lutin Induced Spells
He was back in Knightsbridge, so the other side of Kensington. A fair distance, more than I would normally have had to tackle back in Auckland, but I am fast when I want to be. I dug deep into that Nosferatin part of me and flashed through the streets following that undeniable pull. Like being reeled in on a line, attracted to a powerful magnet, I let the sensation, the pull, carry me forward and just followed my nose.
I didn't need a map, I didn't need to think about where I was going, what the shortest route to my destination would be, I simply ran. The path was laid out before me the moment the vampire began to hunt. Usually I make it there before they have bitten, but I had no illusions that would be the case tonight. Besides the distance I had to run, this was Alastair, he'd have a couple of humans lined up and he wouldn't have wasted a second tucking in.
I rounded the corner on another paved lane in Knightsbridge, just in time to see the first human fall to the ground dead. I didn't hesitate. Not only was I not Dream Walking, so he could smell and sense me if he was paying attention, but my patience with this vampire had well and truly run out. I kept my pace on, not slowing and pulled my stake from the inside pocket of my jacket.
I knew within the next three seconds, he would either be dust, or we would be fighting for our lives.
I didn't even make one. A thick, strong arm shot out and around my chest, pulling me off my feet and hard against a broad chest. A breath of air escaped my lips as I slapped back against that rock wall of muscle, my feet flying out in front and then thumping back down on the ground before me. Alastair slowly turned and flashed me his angry red eyes, but didn't stop draining his meal.
I struggled for a moment against my captor's grip and then simply drove my stake into his side, under my arm. I knew he wasn't a vampire, I think I actually knew who he was all along, but I was beyond pissed off, for many reasons and I just didn't give a flying fuck any more.
Alastair had finished his second human and discarded him unceremoniously to the ground and was reaching for a third. Two dead humans, two more to go and I, the Sanguis Vitam Cupitor, the Prohibitum Bibere and the Lux Lucis Tribuo could do fuck-all to stop the killing. This was wrong, so wrong and I would not tolerate it anymore. Besides, my anger wasn't just fuelled by the injustice of it all, it was fuelled by the fact that the fairy behind me had cast a spell and taken away my rights. I was sick and tired of having my actions commanded by another. I was a person, I had my own mind, I would not be someone's puppet.
“You stupid fucking fairy!” I screamed, as he still held on to my body with one large hand clasped around my wrist, the other having removed the stake from his side and thrown it a few feet away.
He grimaced and tried to stem the flow of blood at his side. I had no idea if silver was fatal to the Fey, I kind of wished it was right then, I kind of wished he'd turn to dust and just float away and then I could pick up my stake and kill the evil undead creature who had just started on his fourth human for the night.
I ignored the musical growl that came from the back of Lutin's throat and tried futilely to remove his grip. His hand had melded to my wrist, there would be no extrication now. So, I turned back to Alastair and swore under my breath as the last human available fell lifeless to the ground.
“You fucking glutton!” I yelled, glaring at him as he casually wiped blood off his lips with a handkerchief, then returned it to his jacket pocket. “You'll be halving the population of London within a month. Then what? Move on to Birmingham, Liverpool, Leeds? Why stop with England, there's Glasgow waiting or Cardiff, maybe Belfast? Work your way through the entire United Kingdom, no one seems to be around to stop you. But I will. Watch your back, Alastair, because Tinker Bell won't always be around to do it for you.”
Lutin spluttered. “Tinker Bell?” His grip on my wrist tightened, making me fall to my knees painfully at his feet.
Alastair started chuckling, which only added fuel to the flame. Did he think I didn't mean it? Did he honestly think I wouldn't make it my life's goal to hunt him down and stop this reign of death? He was deluded if he thought for a moment I wouldn't keep coming after him. He may have scared Citysider off, but he wouldn't scare me.
“Would you care to reverse your request for her safe passage in my city, Lutin? I could rid you of her impetuous existence in an instant,” Alastair said conversationally, keeping his eyes focused on me however.
“I could also rid myself of her impetuous existence in an instant, Alastair, I have no need for you to discipline my elska. I am quite capable of reining her in,” Lutin replied through gritted teeth.
“Then I suggest you do, Princeling, because she is getting on my nerves. We had an agreement, you have yet to fulfil your end.”
With that Alastair vanished, leaving the dead bodies littering the eerily quiet cobblestoned lane. I took in their pale and lifeless forms and bit back a sob. Once again I had failed. Once again Lutin had prevented me from doing my job.
His grip on my wrist eased and he spun me to look at him. His face was pale, but rigid, blood covered his side where I had stabbed him with the stake. I wasn't sure if he had stopped bleeding, I really couldn't have cared less right then. He was really beginning to piss me off.
“You are making my job very difficult, elska. I do not have time to fight you and keep Alastair in line.”
I laughed, a sharp bark of a laugh. “Fine job you're doing there, chum. Four more dead humans.” I pointed towards the bodies on the ground.
“I do not care for the humans,” he spat in return. “My only concerns are for those of my realm. Without Alastair's assistance all will be lost.”
&nbs
p; “What do you mean?” I had a horrible feeling this was not what I would want to hear.
Lutin flashed a look of anger at me, but didn't offer up an answer, instead he stumbled slightly and then collapsed to the pavement, still clutching my hand. He looked as white as a ghost and a small sheen of sweat had started beading above his upper lip.
“Your Light, Lucinda. Give me some of your Light.”
His own Light had started to swell around him, but it looked strange, flickering, unstable. Despite its wavering glow, I felt drawn towards it, an undeniable pull. He tugged me closer and wrapped an arm around my body, his lips against my ear, his hot breath across my skin making an unwanted shiver rake my body.
“You caught me off guard, elska, it will not happen again. I can heal myself, but with your Light it will be faster.”
I pulled away from his mouth, but he wouldn't let me get far. For someone bleeding profusely and requiring a little help from my Light to heal, he sure as hell had a firm grip on my wrist.
“Not until I get a few answers, Lutin. Just what are you doing with Alastair exactly?” I demanded, refusing to give in to his request. He could bleed out for all I cared right now.
His growl in my ear was mind numbing. His feeble Light right now though, was another thing altogether. It not only sent a shiver down my spine, but did things to my body that I didn't want to acknowledge. I resented this reaction he manipulated in me. I resented him. Lutin was danger all right. Danger wrapped up in a pretty package. But not at all human. I've been around my fair share of inhuman things, but at the very least, a vampire was once human, so was a ghoul. And a Taniwha is part human too. They all have roots somewhere in humanity. I can see it, if I look deep. Some hide it well, others have all but lost the final connection to their humane selves, but all have, at one time or another, been human.
But as Samson said, not the Fey. They are from another world and although there may be those that have been born from human and fey dalliances, the bulk are other. I was betting Lutin was completely other, no ounce of human in him to be found.
I should have felt scared at that realisation. Lutin was an unknown quantity. What did I truly know about the Fey other than fairy tales and what Marcus, Matthias and Samson had told me. I knew so little and here I was trapped in the arms of an injured and angry fairy. What could he do? Who knew, but I wasn't scared, I just fingered my spare stake inside my jacket and waited for him to answer.
“Your Light, Lucinda. I need it.” This time his request was more of a plea. I had the feeling he had been hiding how injured he actually was, his own Light had still failed to accumulate, more and more blood was pooling beside us on the pavers. I had really hurt Lutin. It gave me strength and courage against the unknown. “I will answer your questions once I am healed.”
A small smile spread across my lips, I was betting it wasn't pretty. I was getting some sort of perverse pleasure seeing him suffer, seeing him beg for my help. I am not a bad person, I am too filled with Light, but Lutin is not good, in any possible way. He may be full of a Light that inexplicably calls to me, but the man himself repels. I felt no desire to aid him. In fact, I wanted to watch him slowly die. Then at least, the next time I faced Alistair I'd succeed in ridding the world of his Dark evil once and for all. Lutin was all that stood between me and that goal. Right now I was happy for him to cease to exist.
My eyes met his and I know he saw it, whatever it is that lets you know, you're on your own. He was aware he was going to get no help from me. I would not share my Light, I would not give him what he wanted. He tried again to make his Light entice me, it was a feeble attempt, but even so my body responded on a basic level, my own Light threatening to rise. But he was in no fit state to call mine forth, so I just laughed, a little mirthlessly, swatting the desire to meld my Light with his aside.
He made a sound, a strange ringing with a dull clanging in the background. I hadn't heard that before, I was thinking perhaps it was desperation. Still smiling I lifted my eyes to his and was swamped with every shade of green you could imagine. From seconds before, when I had last looked at his eyes, they had transformed into a maelstrom of magical hues; verdant grassy green, icy glacial green, iridescent neon green and a candy apple green I swear I could almost taste. I licked my lips and leaned in closer, my inner monologue shouting a warning in my head.
I didn't need to hear it to know I was in trouble. How stupid could I have been? To look a fairy in the eyes. I had assumed, because his Light was so depleted, he would have little energy for magic of any other form. But his eyes, I had forgotten his eyes, and even though I had thought him incapable of performing fairy magic on me, I should have remembered his eyes. Stupid. Idiotic. And now I was trapped, held in his gaze as surely as a master vampire holds their human prey with their eyes.
I can fight a vampire glaze, I cannot fight Lutin's.
My Light was pulled from me, stolen without consent. I cried out in surprise at how easily he took it, like taking candy from a baby, he stripped me of my Light, and used it to repair his body. Despite his own Light still failing to grow and shine its brightest, he used mine instead and within a minute, maybe two, he released me and sat back on his knees on the ground, his eyes taking me all in. As soon as his arms had fallen from my body, I had moved away and sat crouched a few feet distant from his body, watching him in return, feeling violated. I was shaking with rage. I hated this fairy, but right now, I feared him even more.
He was still covered in blood, a stake sized hole in the side of his white T-Shirt, dark red patches down his faded denim jeans. He noticed me looking at it all and simply rolled his shoulders, flexed his back and by the time the movement finished, he was pristine once again.
I cocked my head, unable to fathom what I had just seen. An illusion? Or really a change of clothes.
“Are you even real?” I breathed, my voice sounding as shaky as my hands, my stomach threatening to expel all contents right then and there. If I never saw another piece of fairy magic ever again, I would be one very relieved vampire hunter.
“What is real, elska? Something you can see and touch and smell? Can you see and touch and smell me? Am I therefore not real?”
“A powerful illusion could be all of those things and it's not real.” The shaking had stopped, but my stomach still roiled.
“Isn't it? If it exists, is it not real, no matter what form it takes?”
I shook my head and clenched my fists. I wasn't really in the mood for a philosophical debate and I was getting the feeling that Lutin could easily counter any argument I had on this topic, even if I was up to bantering with him. Anyway, what did it matter if he was real or not, he wasn't a figment of my imagination, I could see and touch and smell him, he could use magic on me in a whim, therefore real or not, he was a danger. Something to be wary of, something that could harm.
When you break it all down, that's all that matters really. I attempted a shrug, trying to hide how unsettled I was feeling, and reached for my stake, the one Lutin had discarded, wiping it on my black skirt and returning it to my jacket pocket. I felt infinitely better feeling its weight next to my body, knowing I could use it again on him if I got the chance.
“Did you really need to stake me, elska?” His voice was level, showing no emotion whatsoever.
“Did you really need to stop me from doing my job, Lutin?” I countered through gritted teeth. Two could play at the answering questions with a question game.
“I could not let you kill him. He is still valuable to me.”
“And I am valuable too, right?” I said sarcastically, if my words had been weapons they would have been layered in spikes. Shame I couldn't just talk him to death.
“You are my elska, I would not let any harm come to you. Ever.”
“Even if I don't want nor intend to be your elska?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him and feeling my nails dig into my palms.
His returning smile was disarming, totally. The world brightened the moment his lips cu
rved. It was the thick of night, but I felt like the sun was shining on me, dazzling me, wrapping me in its heat and warmth. I shook my head, vehemently and willed the unwanted reactions away. I hated fairy magic. I hated and feared it in equal measure.
He stood fluidly and gracefully stalked toward me. I tried to take a step backwards, I tried to pull my eyes from his, but realised he hadn't released me from their grip yet. And I acknowledged with dawning horror, that I hadn't even been trying to get away. I did now, I tried to close my lids, to turn my head to the side. Nothing worked and a small sound of complete and utter terror slipped from my lips. Like a deer in headlights, I was frozen to the spot. Enchanted by the creature, the man, who walked toward me. But not in a fairy tale kind of way, purely caught in the spell of his eyes, an unwanted participant in his games. Anger boiled inside me, but it was drowning in my fear.
My breath caught, my heartbeat stumbled and I found myself reaching up towards his gathering Light. My mind was racing, my inner monologue screaming a warning, but still I reached for his Light. Fuck! He lifted me off the ground and wrapped his arms around my body, pressing me hard against the firm length of him.
His mouth whispered light kisses across my cheek - my stomach lurched - his lips coasted down my jaw, my neck - bile rose up my throat, burning a path - his breath heated the skin along my clavicle - a tear escaped my eye and trailed down my cheek. I tried to turn my body away, but it was a futile attempt at avoidance. And then, as if my life couldn't have been fucked up enough on its own, the spell erupted in a ball of fire, deep in the pit of my body it burst into unrelenting flames. Licking up along my skin, making me feverish, dancing beneath my flesh, sending wave after wave of electric shocks throughout my body. I moulded myself to him, my mind screaming, no!, my hands fisted in his T-Shirt, my inner monologue shrieking in panic. My mouth trying to mimic its cries, but no sound breached my lips.
He whispered against my teeth and tongue, “Tell me you want to be my elska.”
Dancing Dragon Page 20