A sob escaped my lips, a pure sound of desperate unrelieved pain and fear.
I don't think Michel had expected my response. I could feel the confusion rolling off him, mixed with the anger and rage at me calling Avery's name in my head while I came. And the disgust at himself for being unable to pull out before coming when I had hurt him so. He hesitated, I felt him him sweeping my mind and then his arms were around me and he was cradling me to his chest, rocking me backward and forward and whispering, “It was only a dream, ma douce, he was not actually there. A projected image, nothing more.”
It felt more than a dream, more than just an image. My mind was still playing tricks. I could still smell him, almost feel his hand on me, in my head, in my mind, before my eyes and then I was heaving onto the hearth, bits of half digested scone and milky white coffee spilling to the floor, while Michel held my hair away and stroked my back, his Sanguis Vitam rising to surround us in a prickling cocoon of rage. No longer at me, definitely aimed at Avery and the images of what he had planned for the Dark vampire cascading through his and my mind.
"I will repay him for this, ma douce, you can be assured," Michel whispered vehemently against my cheek as he continued to hold me. I just clung to him, unable to utter sound.
I don't know how much time passed, but Michel didn't move us, didn't remove his arms from around my body, didn't stop rocking me, stroking me, supporting me. I didn't need to hear him say it again, I knew he had meant every word. Avery would pay and Michel would see to it. I held onto my kindred until the images faded, until his scent was the only smell I could decipher in the room, his touch the only sensation.
Eventually, although not fully recovered from Avery's assault, I had gained a little of me back. I was not going to give him that moment: the love Michel and I had shown one another through the worship of each others' body. I would not let Avery see how he had hurt me, by invading that very special and personal time. I would not show fear. I would not give an inch. And, by God, I would always stay on guard.
As calmness finally enveloped me, I slowly became aware of the anger boiling inside Michel. Not only anger, but through the Bond I could feel his frustration. And I was picking it was not isolated to today.
I gently pulled away from his embrace to look at him. Magenta and amethyst splashed a familiar combination in his eyes. He smiled at me; a small, sad smile. Brushed my hair back off my face tenderly with one hand and then his gaze skittered away from mine. A distant look stealing over his handsome face.
"Michel," I said softly. "It will be all right." I had no way of knowing if it would. It just had felt like the right thing to say. "We'll sort it out. We'll find a way to stop him from doing this again." Wishful thinking, but right then, I would have said anything to see a different look in those violet eyes.
Michel met my gaze, a pained look inside his eyes, and he sighed. "It is not just him, ma douce," he said after a lengthy pause.
I waited for more, but he just went back to staring into the distance and didn't utter a sound. Finally, unable to stand that haunting look any longer, I took hold of his hand and whispered, "You need to tell me. Please. Let me in."
He began slowly, haltingly at first. Each word painfully drawn from deep within.
"I wish... I have only one wish, ma douce." He took an unnecessary breath in. "That you be mine."
I shook my head in confusion. I was his, he knew this. Didn't he?
He squeezed my hand and smiled ruefully.
"I am unaccustomed to competition, ma douce," he said, surprising me in my confusion. "Were it just you and I in this world, life would be easy. I would, I think, not have to doubt." He was losing me, I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about at all. "But instead," he said whilst lifting my hand up to his mouth and then laying a kiss on the back delicately, "I must compete first with a Nosferatin trainer, then a master vampire who was once a brother to me." His voice lowered ominously. "Not to mention the King of the American Families, to now a Fey Prince and a Vampire ejected from the Iunctio due to - by his own admissions - being corrupted beyond redemption." He sighed again and let my hand fall back into my lap. "You are mine, yet I must battle for that right again and again. For once I would like you to exist only for me.”
He stood up in that fluid puppet-on-a-string motion vampires have and proceeded to get dressed in silence. I didn't move, I couldn't. For starters, I couldn't believe that he had such doubt. That he thought, for even a moment, that these other... men, meant anything to me. That they would take from him, my love, my desire, my ownership of him and therefore his ownership of me. I hadn't seen this coming. Michel is always so sure, steadfast, unflappable. But like a human - like me - he was not as confident of his own attraction, as I had thought him to be.
He sat down on the couch and picked up his nearly empty Scotch, downing it in one gulp and then fingering the glass, clearly trying to decide if another shot was required. I sat up slowly, wrapping a blanket from the sofa around my body and just studied him. I wanted to reassure him, but somehow words just felt hollow right now. So, I just watched him walk to the drinks cabinet and pour another drink and then down that drink, and then another and then when I thought perhaps he was just going to get falling down drunk, he poured three fingers in his glass and turned to look at me, just holding the tumbler, no longer drinking from it.
“The Champion believes my sire is alive and well and in London." I was momentarily surprised he was changing the topic so. Granted we needed to discuss these pressing matters, why he was here, why Avery was helping him, but he caught me unprepared. Again. "He hasn't been seen nor heard from since I took his life four hundred and fifty-one years ago, but she is adamant that he has returned, from whatever hell hole he has been hiding in and as such, it is my responsibility that he goes back there. For good.” A sip of his drink. A grimace. “He wasn't easy to kill the first time, now I fear he may well be damn near impossible.” He paused, looked at the drink in his hand as though he hadn't realised he was even holding it and then downed the rest in one swift tip of his head.
I was on my feet and in front of him in a second, grabbing his wrist as he reached for the near empty bottle of Scotch on the bench.
“Don't,” I said, softly.
He paused, a small smile curving his mouth as he looked down at me. “Why?”
“Because it's wasted energy. You don't need it. You're better than this.”
His free hand came up and stroked my cheek, I felt myself lean in to his touch, his thumb slowly caressing my jaw.
“You always did see more in me than I ever could.”
We stared at each other for a good minute and then he took hold of my hand and turned his back on the booze, leading me to the couch. I wrapped myself tighter in the blanket, just lacking the energy to get dressed right now. We settled down side by side, his hand still holding mine, small circles being traced on the back of mine by his thumb. So familiar, so Michel.
“This is my London base. I have hardly ever come here, so I never felt the desire to redecorate. It is hideous, is it not? Poor Christopher has had to endure it for more than a century, but the location is good, the tunnels beneath it essential and it serves its purpose even if I despise its style. I had no intention of ever bringing you here. I would have found an hotel more suited to your beauty, had this trip been better planned. But here we are.” His hand waved out through the space in front of us indicating the room, the entire house, as he spoke those last words. I was getting the feeling that Michel wasn't quite himself right then.
“As soon as you told me about Alastair and your Dream Walks I had Alain and Daniel investigate. Having not heard through the Iunctio that London had a new master, it seemed only fitting. They have been trying to ascertain more information since then and now it seems, that that is closely related to what the Champion has now asked me to do.”
“You think Alastair may be Amicus?” I asked, still a little surprised at the idea. Why wouldn't he just call himself
by his real name, he didn't seem like the type to hide behind anonymity.
“In all honesty, I am not sure. I cannot believe that Amicus survived, but then, the amulet...” He trailed off there.
“What is the amulet? You called it a fey relic: the taufr. What does that mean?”
“The taufr is a talisman created by the Fey. It is unknown exactly what powers it possesses, but it is believed to be able to cheat death.” He let a breath of air out in a huff. “Cheat death. We do it daily by merely existing, I cannot see the worth of an amulet that would tie you to the Fey, because that is what it would be. The Fey do not part with their powers willingly, to give someone of our world something so powerful from theirs, there would be payback of some description involved." He grimaced slightly. "And that brings us to your prince.”
“He's not my prince,” I replied, getting a little bit sick of everyone saying otherwise.
“Your prince, his elska, the same thing. The two of you are connected and now the amulet has been spotted and Amicus is believed to live.” He did not sound happy with any of that.
“So, where does Avery fit into this?” I asked, trying to just get this over and done with and then maybe we could somehow move on.
“Avery and I have shared an alliance for centuries. He owes me. I helped him out with a sticky situation some time ago and now I intend to use his unique skills in obtaining something I desire.”
“What exactly are his unique skills, Michel?”
“Avery is every inch the assassin Amicus once was. He is cunning, lethal, single minded and as you witnessed this day, capable of powerful mental persuasion. I have no intention of facing Amicus again, Avery will do it for me.”
I thought about that for a minute. OK, so Avery was powerful and could obviously kill quite well, but then so could Michel and I had never seen Michel turn his back on a challenge before. The Champion had challenged him to kill Amicus, to rid the world of him once and for all, so why wouldn't he just go out there and do it himself? Why rely on another, crazy, loony, borderline functioning psychotic killer such as Avery, when he was more than powerful in his own right to carry out the task?
Michel shifted next to me and reached out to cup my chin, pulling my head around to face him.
“I will not lose you, Lucinda, you know this. I will do anything in my power to keep you safe. I may resent the fact that I have to battle for your affections, but I will battle. To the death if need be, for you.”
I shook my head, it still didn't make any sense.
He smiled, that lovely, young boy smile he occasionally, very rarely, lets me see.
“Fighting Amicus again, attempting even to kill him, would seal our fates. I cannot allow that to happen.”
“I still don't understand, Michel. Why can't you fight him?” A strange question in itself, because any excuse to keep him from the front lines, seemed like a good one to me.
“Because when I took his life last time a portal to the Fey world was opened, due to his wearing the taufr. At the time, I didn't understand its significance, but in retrospect and in light of everything that is transpiring now, it makes more sense.”
He saw the utter look of confusion on my face, replicating the confusion in my mind and went on.
“By opening that portal I allowed a fairy to slip through to our world, just briefly, but long enough for her to curse me, to lay a fey spell. The Queen of the Dökkálfa whispered in my ear, that I would be faced with my sire's execution again and when that time came, I would release the Dökkálfa from their prison and they would take from me that which I prized most precious. It was ridiculous and made absolutely no sense at all, Amicus was dead and I did not have anything left that I prized most precious, so I ignored it.” He laughed at himself. “And here we are. Amicus is believed alive again, the Fey have opened a portal already and I cannot imagine a world without you by my side.”
I really didn't know what to say to that. I'd only just got my head around fairies and spells, Lutin's lust charm had clinched the deal on those beliefs, but now this? I can be practical when needed. The Fey exist, spells are possible, so why not believe Amicus is alive and Michel killing him could mean my death. But he would die too, wouldn't he?
“No,” he answered my thoughts. “They would simply take you from this world. Take your life from me, as I took Amicus's from him.”
“Why is he so important to the Fey?”
“I do not know, but I cannot risk facing him, so I have called on an old favour and alliance.”
Avery. And he needed me to lead Avery to Alastair. Or was that Amicus?
“Yes,” Michel whispered, pulling me tightly into an embrace and kissing the top of my head.
Please forgive me, ma douce, please forgive me. But I will not lose you to the Fey, even if I have to make you walk through the lion's den to achieve it.
His words were a soft whisper in my mind, his arms warm bands of promises around my body. I could feel his fear at the thought of losing me, I could feel his frustration at having to deal with those uninvited... suitors - for want of a better word. But, although I couldn't assuage his fear right then, I could do something for his frustration. For even if there are always those who covet me, I am not naive, they covet my Light, my power, not me. In no way are they a temptation. In no way would they take me from him.
I turned in his arms to face him, placed my hands upon his cheeks and looked him in the eyes. Then I opened my mind, lowered my shields, sent my thoughts across the space between us and invited him inside. In a cascade of images, a tumble of fervent words and a beautiful combination of emotions, I showed him exactly what I felt.
I am yours, Michel Durand, and don't you forget it.
Wonder. Adoration. Belief. Joy. It all came crashing into me, received with open arms. Tears rained down my cheeks and for the second time only, in my association with this powerful, potent and intense man, I watched him cry. Then welcomed his embrace and kiss giving everything I could of myself back, as he sought to show me again his love.
Chapter 22
Entering The Lion's Den
Samson turned up, not long after the shutters whirled away for the night, with a change of clothes for me. Whether he knew where Michel had a house or was contacted by one of Michel's vampires, I didn't know, I was just grateful for a full complement of my own clothes to face what was undoubtedly going to be a hellish night.
Every night for the past three or four, Alastair had fed on multiple humans, I didn't think that tonight would be any different. Sooner or later I'd feel the pull. For some reason my Sanguis Vitam Cupitor powers were tuned in to the ancient vampire. Maybe it was because no other Nosferatins were around, or maybe it was because he was feeding and killing more than one human in one sitting. Who knew, but for whatever reason, I had a direct dial line to Alastair and that was what Michel was counting on.
By the time Avery came back in the room, I had managed to eat, again, had showered and was dressed in my usual hunter gear, complete with my two new beautiful sterling silver stakes and a long sterling silver knife hidden away in my fitted black jacket. All of which I was just so damn itching to use on him.
It wasn't me that made the first move however, but Michel. Avery glided into the room and went directly to the drinks cabinet to pour himself a Scotch. Daniel and Alain were in the corner by the fireplace talking quietly, Christopher had just removed my tray of food and was still in the kitchen and Michel was on his cellphone sitting in an armchair to the side, catching up with Jett in New Zealand. Samson and I were having a quiet chat on the sofa, bringing him up to speed on Michel's plan to track Alastair. He hadn't been impressed with the idea of me having to work with Avery, but then I wasn't either, so I didn't put up a fight to his arguments. Same book, same bloody page.
I had stiffened when Avery came in the room, but I was buggered if I was going to show him he had upset me. Vampires like him liked the chase, the game, if they felt their prey's fear it was impossible to resist. He h
ad overstepped the mark though, we all knew it, but he'd still be quite prepared to rub it in, just to see my reaction. I wanted to lash out, I really did. Standing up to the bully was the only course of action, otherwise he'd just do it all over again. But doing it in front of Alain and Daniel, who did not know what had actually transpired, was not an audience I was happy with, so I was sitting on my hands, refusing to grab my stake and just biding my time until I could bite back.
Michel, however, had other thoughts entirely. Without even ringing off his call to Jett, he simply thrust out a hand toward where Avery was pouring his drink, with a minimal amount of Sanguis Vitam behind it, making it only evident that he was about to do something right at the last second. Alain and Daniel's heads shot up, two sets of blue eyes flashing cyan and turquoise, and then Avery was on the floor gasping with pain.
I think I might have yelped, embarrassingly, but it was so fast and so unexpected that it caught me off guard. Avery writhed around on the floor for a good few minutes, but no one went to his aid. Michel simply went back to his conversation with Jett on the phone as though nothing had happened, Alain and Daniel, though, kept themselves vampire still. Watching the room, Avery, Michel, everyone, no doubt trying to figure out what exactly Avery had done to piss their master off.
How did I feel about Michel attacking Avery? Good. Bloody good in fact. Had he not done anything, what would it have said? I was still going to have to go out the door with Avery when the pull called, I was still going to have to lead him to Alastair, but Michel had not let what had happened slip. I had no doubt Michel would not say a word to Avery when he recovered though. He didn't need to, the punishment could only be for one thing. Avery would have known, hell, he'd have probably been expecting it.
Would it stop him from trying something else on me? Somehow, I doubted that, but I'd be prepared. I was working hard to keep my shields at full strength.
Finally, Avery stopped writhing and just lay there on the floor, his eyes closed, his hands clasped together across his chest, breathing deeply, evenly, slowly. Almost as though he was taking a nap. I couldn't help watching him, expecting at any moment that he would jump up and attack us all in a fit worthy of Dr Jekyll's Mr Hyde. But, the longer it took for him to move, the more relaxed Alain and Daniel seemed to get. Michel was simply unaffected by him, one way or the other. Me, on the other hand? I was getting more and more strung out, waiting for the inevitable strike from the sleeping cobra.
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