Dancing Dragon

by Nicola Claire

“You know I enjoy it when you say please, Michel, but I think I would prefer on this occasion to hear Avery beg,” I answered, levelly.

  Michel sighed and Avery laughed. Just a little laugh, quiet, between him and me.

  It was the laugh that did it. Avery was enjoying this too. I didn't want him to be enjoying it. To be laughing at me. To think that I wasn't a threat. He had manipulated my mind into believing something horrific had happened. Something that he had been the centre of in my head. The stake slid in the last few centimetres, nicking the side of his heart. I held his body as it slumped down to the ground in an uncontrolled heap.

  I wasn't going for the final death. I had done this before. Staking a vampire, but missing the heart. So close though, that they were paralysed, unable to fight back and out of action for a good few days. It would require a level one master vampire to remove the stake. We had one of those. Avery wouldn't suffer for long. Well, only for a day or two.

  But, I had made my point and retaliated for the mind games he had played on me last night.

  Was I evil for doing this? Had I compromised my Light? I can't answer that. I am a product of my experiences and lately, they've been pretty Dark.

  I leant forward and brushed my lips against Avery's ear, then whispered, “Now we're even. You try to play me again and I won't miss.”

  “Touché,” he whispered in reply. Then he worked on controlling the pain he was no doubt receiving in spades.

  I stood up and stepped back as Michel brushed past me to aid Avery. His eyes were a mix of amethyst and magenta, they didn't meet mine. I watched for a moment, then decided I was starting to feel sick, so took the coward's way out and left the room. Antonio and Ricardo were outside the door, standing guard. They didn't meet my eyes either.

  I went in search of Samson and found him in his office playing an on-line video game of some sort. Lots of explosions, blood splatters and weaponry of fantastical designs flashing across the screen in quick succession.

  “You waste your IQ on that?” I asked, but my heart wasn't really in the taunt.

  He switched the the game off, returning his browser to its home page.

  “What have you just done, Luce?” he asked, swivelling his chair back towards me and crossing his legs.

  “What makes you think I've done something?” I asked, settling in to a settee in the corner of the airy room.

  “Apart from the lacklustre attack on my pastimes, the amount of Sanguis Vitam surging up the stairs means you've been up to something significant, requiring your kindred's intervention,” he replied casually, his brown eyes holding mine.

  I felt Michel's power then, undulating, wave upon wave swelling through the whole house. He was using a lot. I felt a moment of guilt at having placed him in this position, aware that this amount of Sanguis Vitam would be tiring to him. Then straightened my shoulders and sucked in a deep breath. I would face the consequences of my actions. I would not shy away.

  I smiled at Samson and told him what I had done.

  By the time he stopped laughing, brushing tears from his eyes, Michel's Sanguis Vitam had subsided. I guessed the emergency had passed and I could probably venture back down the stairs.

  “You are special, mistress,” Samson managed to get out finally. “It is an honour to be part of your line.” He meant it too. To a vampire there can be nothing better than a show of force, a confrontation you come away from as victor.

  It made me realise that if Michel wasn't too angry at me for harming the help, he'd probably be pretty impressed with me too. Shame I wasn't sure whether he was still angry or not. Michel after a show of my powers and force is something to see.

  Just then my cellphone rang. I fished it out of my pocket and glanced at the screen. It wasn't a number I recognised. I stared at it for a while, unsure if I should answer it or not. What if it was Viktor? Samson picked up on my fears and reached over, plucking the phone from my hand, then answered it.

  I couldn't hear what was being said on the other end of the line, but Samson finally pulled the phone from his ear and said, “He says it's Geoff and he wants to speak to the little Nosferatin with the Fey lust charm. I'm guessing that's you. Do you know him?”

  Geoff, head of the London Ghouls. I had forgotten he was trying to locate Citysider and the other missing Nosferatins. I still didn't know where they were, not in Vampire Central of the city though, but did I really need to know that anymore? I wasn't sure that finding them mattered now, it wasn't going to stop the inevitable, but I had entered into an agreement with a ghoul. I had asked him to locate Citysider and in return he was expecting to be paid. It may not have been a formal arrangement like an alliance or an accord, but you never go back on a verbal agreement with a ghoul. You just don't. It is not good business etiquette and was definitely hazardous to your health.

  I replayed our last meeting over in my head, reminding myself what I had promised the ghoul when I set him the challenge of locating the missing Nosferatin. I had asked him; “You know who I am?” He had known my official titles and then I had promised him; “Well, I'm more than that. Not even Pete knows. You find Citysider for me, I'll tell you what else I am.”

  I cringed at the exchange. Now I was going to have to pay up for something I no longer valued, with something priceless. The fact that I am also Lutin's elska, a mœðr to the Fey. This was definitely something I would rather not have too many people know. I could only see it getting me into trouble. I wondered if I could slip a different payment in, in its place. Then sighed. Of course I couldn't, Geoff was a ghoul.

  I held my hand out for the cellphone and prepared to bare my soul.

  “Geoff,” I said, keeping my voice casual and at ease. Samson raised his eyebrows at me, he could read my body language and it wasn't matching my tone.

  “Lucinda Monk. I have tha' information you requested and also a message. You know where I am. The pub will close soon, but I'll be 'ere.”

  The cellphone went dead. He expected me to go to The Genie's Bottle right now. I glanced at Samson's clock on his computer, it was almost 2am. I did not want to head out into the night, it already felt like a lifetime had passed this evening. First the aborted effort hunting Alastair with a grumpy Avery in tow, then the couple of hours lost to the Russian vampire.

  I still had to communicate the discussion, but I guessed Avery wouldn't be up to it yet, so it didn't really matter. But, I didn't fancy traipsing about the city with the Russian vampire out there who could steal more of my time. Plus, how was Michel going to respond to me leaving the house?

  Ah crap.

  “Come on,” I said to Samson as I stood, shoving the cellphone back in my pocket. “Let's go convince Michel we need to go out.”

  Samson had heard what Geoff had said on the phone, he'd already put two and two together and just followed me out the door.

  Michel was back in the front room having a stiff drink and when we entered, I found that Avery was there too. Reclining on the couch. I stopped just inside the door and frowned at the sight of him there. I don't know why, but I had just assumed he would be gone. Not done and dusted gone, but at least gone from this house and recuperating elsewhere.

  “How do you suppose he be moved, ma douce? He is recovering from a silver stake to the heart.” Michel's voice was dripping in anger. I guess he hadn't made it to the impressed part yet.

  “Would it have been easier if I hadn't missed?” I asked breezily, as I continued on into the room. Never show fear.

  Michel swallowed the last of his drink and sank heavily into an armchair. Ignoring my question he said, “He needs to feed, ma douce.”

  I just stood there staring at Michel, like some frozen shop manikin in a window. I couldn't quite fathom what he was saying.

  “I shall organize some take-out,” Samson offered into the heavy air, not waiting for an answer and just leaving the room to place the call. Take-out to a vampire is just that. Ordering Norm food over the line and when the human turns up to deliver it, glazing them
and feeding from them instead. Not something I approve of, but what other option is there? I wasn't going to feed him.

  “I need to feed too,” Michel said in a quieter voice.

  I noticed then how tired he looked, how drawn and pale. More so than I had seen him for quite some time. Whatever he had to do to remove that stake and prevent Avery from turning to dust, had obviously been extreme. And now he was exhausted.

  I didn't hesitate, I went straight to him and sat down on the armrest of his chair, offering my wrist. He looked up at me and let a small amount of indigo seep into his eyes. We stared at each other for a few seconds, my arm hanging between us, then Avery drawled, “If you don't take her bloody vein, Michel, I will.”

  Michel growled and pulled me into his lap, turning my body and pushing my hair over my shoulder to bare my neck. He would normally not feed from my wrist, but I had offered it as we had guests and when he fed from my neck, well, let's just say, he could easily get carried away.

  He kissed above my pulse point and then I felt the sting of his bite as his fangs slid in. A small moan escaped from the back of his throat before he remembered to temper the pain with something else. He chose love and I was surprised... pride. He could have used the opportunity to punish me. The Michel of recent weeks would have, but I had forgotten I had my Michel back again. He wanted me to know he loved me and that he had been impressed with what I had done.

  I contained the laughter that threatened to bubble up and out and settled for just a smile instead.

  When he was finished and had sealed his bite marks closed, he pulled back and kissed me with such fierceness and with such commitment to the task I couldn't breathe. I could taste my blood on his tongue, an unusual sensation, not something humans enjoy, but when Michel kissed me, still tasting of me, it never seemed gross. It was always erotic.

  He hadn't made the bite anything more than the purist of loves, he hadn't let it escalate into anything I would be embarrassed by in present company. But, he forgot about the kiss.

  My hands went to his hair and immediately got tangled in it, my tongue went half way down his throat and if he had made a small moan before, mine was impossible to mistake. I was practically climbing into his body through his lips and would have taken it further if Avery hadn't managed to spoil the moment and thankfully bring me back to the present.

  “Damn. I wish I had insisted on her vein after all.”

  Avery, the Plucking Pervert, the Dark One, and now the bucket of ice cold water.

  Chapter 27

  The Ghoul

  Michel was grinning like a Cheshire cat. Public displays of affection have always been welcomed by Michel. Well at least, public displays of affection with me. He wouldn't let me get up off his lap, tightening his hold when I began to move. That may have been because he was somewhat aroused. And he wouldn't let me turn my head away, to flash Avery a glare. He grabbed hold of my face, using both of his hands along my jaw and kissed me again with a demanding need.

  Michel! I chastised in his head.

  Quoi? he replied in my mind.

  Stop it, you're embarrassing me.

  Arrêter ce que? came his ridiculous reply. Ridiculous because he was clearly not thinking straight, everything was in French.

  English, I moaned the thought back at him. Yes, you can moan in your head. His kiss had taken on a whole new meaning. That and his hands now up and under my top.

  He laughed against me, like some drunken teenager.

  He'd heard my thought. I am drunk, ma douce. On my love of you.

  Oh, now you're just being corny, I shot back at him, not bothering to stop where his lips had trailed to. Then I had an idea. If Avery could be a cold bucket of water, then surely I could create one too. I have to go out to meet a ghoul.

  Oh yeah, cold bucket of water. He pushed me back to look at my face.

  “You are jesting,” he said, evenly.

  I couldn't help the smile that graced my lips. Not necessarily the healthiest of responses, but his sudden change of mood was quite entertaining. Nothing could turn a vampire off more than their hatred of ghouls.

  “Pete's informant has news of Citysider.” I didn't mention the message, I had no idea what it would mean.

  “Do you think it wise to be out on the streets?” he asked calmly. Almost too calmly.

  “No, but I'll take Samson and the shadow goons.” Michel forehead creased at my tag-name for his shadow guards. “Besides,” I went on, “we need to know what Citysider knows. It may help us.”

  He didn't acknowledge that, but I knew he wouldn't disagree. I had thought finding out where Citysider had got to wouldn't be useful any more, but in retrospect it probably would be worthwhile to find out what the Nosferatin knew.

  Instead Michel said, “We need to find out what you and Viktor discussed. Acting on anything else without first discovering what has happened is not only dangerous, but reckless. You could be walking into a trap.”

  I turned in his lap to look at Avery. He looked like crap. Staking a vampire anywhere can be detrimental to their health, staking them within millimetres of their heart was just plain bad. He was pale, sweating, gaunt and had shadows and hollows in places no normal human would ever have. He looked like he had just been released from one of those prisoner of war camps, after a good twelve months of captivity. He wouldn't be helping me any time soon.

  “Shit,” I breathed out quietly. Avery's eyes opened and looked directly at me. There was a slight look of amusement in them.

  “Don't ruin the effect your actions have had with sympathy, Ms. Monk. It will only lower my opinion of you and you worked so hard to improve it.”

  I huffed and turned my back on him. Michel raised his eyebrows at me in a question. “So, ma douce? You will not go see this ghoul?” He had asked it, not demanded it, so I didn't get all stroppy on him, I just stood up and straightened my skirt. Brushing myself all clean. It wasn't necessary, I wasn't dirty, just a spill over from my hunting days. A self conscious move designed to prepare myself for further battle.

  “I have to, Michel. I entered into a verbal agreement with him, I can't go back on my word.”

  Vampires may not have a lot to do with ghouls if they can help it, but they knew how ghouls worked. Michel just stared at me for a moment, then said, “I trust you know what you are doing as far as the ghoul is concerned, Lucinda. But, I will be coming with you, not Samson.”

  I didn't ask him if he was well enough. You just don't ask a vampire that in front of another, so I just said, “OK.”

  Michel stood up with all the grace of a five hundred year old vampire having just fed. So, that was beautifully and smoothly and altogether too sexily, but I was guessing he was putting that last one in for me and not for Avery's benefit. Samson came back in the room and quickly cottoned on to the change of plans. He didn't look surprised, so I guess he expected Michel to have wanted to come with me all along. Avery just watched us like a hawk.

  We left Samson to nursemaid the sick vampire and went out to a Range Rover in a steel grey with dark tinted windows. It looked and smelled brand new. Michel opened the passenger door for me and was around the driver's side before I had finished buckling my seatbelt. Chocolate brown leather seats, walnut wood trim dash board and every button and gadget a boy could desire lit up as he started the engine.

  “Test driving a new car?” I asked, as he pulled out onto the one way street that Samson's house was situated in.

  “The Discoverys need replacing.” He flashed me a smile.

  I'd always quite liked the Land Rovers Michel's crew drove back home, but there was something a little special about Land Rover's top of the line Range Rover, that was for sure. Somehow it just matched Michel to a tee.

  “Tell me, ma douce, what do you intend to trade with the ghoul?” Michel had been with me when I had bartered information with my ghoul contact in Auckland, Pete. He knew how the game was played and if I gave away my price now, I was sure Michel would find a way to stop me. He
wouldn't want too many people knowing I was Lutin's elska. But, I had agreed to tell Geoff what I was, besides the Sanguis Vitam Cupitor and the Prohibitum Bibere and the Lux Lucis Tribuo. What else was there besides that?

  I hedged with, “I'll think of something.”

  Of course I should have known Michel better. “You already have, Lucinda. You never go to a meeting with a ghoul without being prepared.” He didn't sound angry, having caught me out in a bluff, just normal, neutral.

  “I offered to tell him what I am.” Maybe, he'd let it go.

  “He would already know you are the Prophesied. So, what exactly are you intending to tell him?” Now there was a hint of anger and a flash of magenta to boot. Great.

  “I need to know where Citysider is. OK, Michel? I need to find out what he knows.”

  “That wasn't an answer,” he said, simply. “You plan on telling him about your relationship with the Imp Prince.” His attention was all for the road, just the odd flash of magenta and the way he held on so tightly to the steering wheel let me know how close to the edge he was. But he was controlling his Sanguis Vitam well.

  “A deal is a deal with the ghouls, Michel. At the time of striking the bargain, I didn't have anything else to trade.”

  He was silent for a while, negotiating the late night traffic that always seems to be as busy as the middle of the day in London.

  I expected him to argue further, maybe just to offer an alternative to give in exchange for the information, but he just remained silent. After a while I let my mind wander, taking in the flashes of bright lights that passed us and little else. What would Geoff do with the knowledge that I was a Fey Prince's chosen elska? I still felt like I didn't have all the information to answer that question accurately. It could be harmless letting him know this, or it could come back and bite me on the arse. Pete, my ghoul on the ground in Auckland is also somewhat of a friend. I could trust Pete to a certain extent not to abuse the information. At the very least he would charge an enormous amount to pass it on to another, he'd practically price it out of the market.