Book Read Free

Giver of Light

Page 40

by Nicola Claire


  He chuckled against me and began nuzzling my neck.

  “How hard do you want me to work for it, ma douce?” he whispered against my skin and followed it up with a wet lick over my pulse.

  A beautiful hot shiver ran down my spine and made me moan out loud.

  “Harder?” he husked and shifted so he could kiss across my chin and down my neckline. His hands beginning to explore beneath my T-Shirt, so softly, so slowly, so hot against my flesh.

  He looked beautiful beside me, the low glow coming from inside the house, blanketing us with light, making his golden cream coloured skin sparkle as though it was lit from within. His dark, dark hair falling over my breasts as he nuzzled and kissed and nipped his way between them. My body arched automatically, inviting him, enticing him further, my own hands moving to run through all that glorious hair. I loved his hair, it was so smooth and shiny and totally addictive. I would cry if he ever cut it.

  Without warning he lifted me on to his lap, so I was facing him, my legs either side of his, kneeling above him, but settled against his hard length. I shifted, rubbing myself along the length of him and watched him shut his eyes and throw back his head as a wave of heat washed over him. His face a beautiful mask of bliss. When his eyes opened they were ablaze with violets and amethysts, so dazzling, mesmerizing, so him.

  “You have stolen my heart, my body, my soul, ma douce. I am yours.”

  He hadn't talked again of my Sigillum since I had offered it before he left for America. Maybe he thought I had changed my mind, maybe he thought I had promised it in the heat of the moment, I couldn't tell, he never said. If that was the case, he was wrong. I had just been waiting for the right moment.

  Right here, in the dead of the night, at the home we shared, in the city we both loved, I couldn't think of a better place in time to give it. I didn't hesitate as I felt him stiffen against me, aware no doubt of where my thoughts had gone. I didn't pause with doubt, or indecision, this man was my life, I loved him more than the air I breathed, more than life itself.

  I was his, as he was mine.

  The Light built blindingly fast inside me, as though it too knew what was about to happen and had been waiting far too long for the moment to arrive. With a knowledge that this was so very right, so very special, but also so very true, I let the Light flow from me, my mouth claiming his in a passionate kiss, letting him feel everything I felt for him. My love, my hunger, my warmth, my respect, everything all at once and then when it met no resistance at his shields, just his welcome acceptance of my mark, my heart burst with a love so strong and pure, and the darkness of the night turned to day, my Light exploding around us and washing us with its warmth.

  It took a good few minutes to dissipate. God only knows what the neighbours thought had happened. And then I pulled back to see what mad colourful creation I had designed.

  I had expected to see something obvious, like on his face, around his eyes, like Gregor wore, but it wasn't, it was subtle, still visible, but perfectly placed. Michel watched my face for a hint of what I saw, a small smile of intrigue playing on the edges of his lips.

  When I started undoing the button of his shirt he laughed a little surprised, no doubt thinking I was about to devour him, not far from the truth, but my actual goal was following where my Sigillum went.

  The top part of it protruded above the collar of his shirt, up his neck, over his pulse, the point he usually fed from on me. It was colourful and intricate, I was quite certain from what little of it I could see, that it would also be magnificent. As I pulled the shirt back I wasn't disappointed.

  A beautiful colourful dancing dragon, the head of which covered his pulse point on his neck, with the dancing body finishing right over his heart. It was large, but only a small portion would be noticeable in his normal attire, but for me, when we were alone and naked, it would shine.

  “It's amazing,” I said with utter awe.

  Michel finally looked down at his bare chest and I heard a slight intake of breath. “What have you done, ma douce?” But his face was alight with happiness.

  “I think you need to see this,” I said slipping off his knees before he could reach for me and taking hold of his hand. In a movement similar to how he had led me to the mirror in his chambers at Sensations to see my new mark, I took him to the nearest mirror in our house, above the fireplace in the lounge.

  Turning him away from me so he could look in the mirror, I stepped to the side to catch his expression and held my breath.

  “Mon Dieu, c'est tres beau.” He looked at it for a moment, his fingers tracing the outline of his dragon, the icon of his family crest. The dragon he had gifted me and now I returned with all my love.

  “You are mine, Michel Durand,” I said with feeling, as he turned to take me in his arms.

  He looked down at me with complete faith. No more questions. No more sadness tingeing the love in his eyes. Just a knowledge that I was right. That this was true. When he spoke it was full of requited love.

  “And you are also mine, Lucinda Monk.”

  And then he kissed me.

  If you enjoyed reading Giver Of Light please tell others about this book.

  Share on Facebook.

  Tweet on Twitter.

  Write a Review.

  It all helps, and I would be extremely grateful for the support.

  Giver Of Light at Amazon

  Giver Of Light at GoodReads

  Find out more about Nicola Claire books at:

  nicolaclairebooks.blogspot.com

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

  Chapter 2 Giver of Light (Kindred, Book 4)

  Pick-Up Lines

  From Michel's Point of View

  My mind is not on the conversation before me. I manage to provide the correct responses when required, but my heart is not in it. My heart is aching. I half-heartedly listen to Erika's report, while I play over this morning's events. Another nightmare. When will they stop?

  I had never thought this would continue for so long, but I cannot condemn her for the response. I feel it with her. I have no choice in the matter, we are too connected now for me to switch off that part of us. I only wish I could help her through this, to make the dreams, the nightmares, go away.

  For a moment there, I think I did help, but she still does not reach for me. She still holds a part of herself back. I crave that last contact. I crave her. I am selfish in this regard. I cannot help it, but I long for her touch, her attention, her care. Anything she can give me I will ravish with delight. Anything at all.

  "Michel, are you even listening?" Erika's disgruntled voice interrupts my musings, perhaps I have not been responding as well as I thought. "Did you hear a single word I said?" she demands. She's been very demanding lately, I have been too busy with my own problems to offer my little one comfort and support.

  "Yes, I am listening, little one. What has got you so riled tonight?"

  "What do you mean? I'm not riled." An automatic female response.

  "Erika, I have known you for close to two centuries, I know when you are unhappy." I may not always acknowledge it, but I do care for this petite blonde warrior. I care greatly.

  She hesitates, it's almost as though I can see the cogs turning in her head. I smile, amused at her response. When has Erika ever thought before she has spoken before?

  "Jett and I are fighting," she offers with a demure flick of her blue eyes.

  I don't know what to say. I am no Agony Aunt. I feel a little uncomfortable. Erika is like a sister to me, a little sister I do not see in any way being sexual. The thought of having to discuss her personal life with her makes me cringe.

  I man up. "Well... that... ah... is unfortunate."

  She puts me out of my misery. "I don't want to talk about it, OK?"

  Thank the merciful gods. I nod and pull the piece of paper she has been waving in front of my eyes for the past ten minutes towards me. It's a copy of an email message from one of the American Families. I hav
e been avoiding dealing with this issue, but no time like the present. Erika and I both need a distraction.

  "Manuel has taken to placing his demands in writing, it would seem. Why the sudden change of tactics?"

  Erika visibly relaxes. Unusual. This is not a topic I would have thought would engender relaxation, but she seems relieved to discuss it. I mentally shrug my shoulders, Erika has never been usual.

  "He is escalating the battle."

  "The battle? I did not know we are at war," I say, intrigued at her choice of words.

  She shakes her head. "It is always a battle as far as the Families are concerned. Any correspondence between them is considered a precursor to more."

  I consider her words for a moment. "What would Manuel want other than a piece of my pie?" I ask the question more of myself, but Erika answers.

  "You have grown strong, Michel. Something to either covet or fear. Manuel and Tomas fear very little, so what they want is you. Or at the very least, to have you as part of their entourage."

  "They are delusional. I will not be part of anyone's entourage."

  "Why not?" she asks, making me pause in my movements to crush the piece of paper before me. "An alliance with an American Family could prove beneficial."

  "In what way, Erika? There is nothing in America I desire. I have all I want here."

  "You can't tell me that you have grown complacent with life, Michel. You were the one who taught me the more we seek, the more we will enjoy our extended lives. To become complacent is to take the first step towards the final death."

  I bristle at her answer. I am not complacent. Merely content. Being happy with what one has achieved cannot be construed as being conceited or unconcerned.

  "You misjudge contentment for complacency, little one." I brush her concerns aside.

  But she will not drop this. "You have grown tired, Michel. You have lost your charisma and purpose in life. You used to be fun."

  The paper gets crushed. Better that than her neck.

  Still she forges on like a blind bull in a china shop. The rattle of broken porcelain can be heard in amongst each word.

  "What would be so wrong with meeting Manuel? At least opening a dialogue with the American Families."

  "I thought you were pleased to be rid of them," I say quietly.

  "Oh, I am pleased not be living there, but I'm not naive enough to assume there are no benefits in having a connection to them. They are vast and plentiful, and becoming more and more of a force to be reckoned with in the world. To ignore an opportunity now would be tantamount to political suicide."

  That's it, this discussion has gone on long enough. I have been indulging her insolence. She has been out of sorts since returning to my side, I thought a little more length in the leash would enamour her to her new found role in the line. Clearly she has taken too much.

  "Perhaps it is time you returned to your duties as my spy." She stiffens in her seat. "I could use an extra pair of eyes and ears in Paris." She pales. Has she forgotten I know her so well? "Alain would happily accept another female in his ranks. You would fit in well."

  "Of course," she says hastily, with a crooked smile, "getting into bed with America would cause additional problems. They do like to be top dog and no matter what they say, they would consider themselves superior to you." She cocks her head and looks at me through her long blonde lashes. "You really have become a bit of a grump, Michel." Then laughs.

  It takes me a moment to relax, listening to her laughter, one cannot be unaffected. Erika always did have the most infectious laugh. It is almost as though the sun shines when she smiles. To be basking in her attention has caused many a male vampire to fall. I do not think I will fall. I haven't in the nearly two hundred years since I turned her. But, it is good to see her smile. And I reluctantly admit, she is right. I have been... grumpy. My reaction to her suggestions is merely a build up of sleepless nights and overly heightened concern for my kindred. Under normal circumstances, I would banter with Erika much better than I have today.

  "My apologies, little one, I fear my dislike of the American Families' bullying tactics has spilled over into my decision making. I will consider his offer." I don't think consideration will make me change my mind, but Erika does not need to know this. I have neglected her lately, I wish to make amends. "In the meantime, why don't we have a drink and you can tell me how you are finding your new home." I begin pouring two glasses of my favourite New Zealand Pinot Noir.

  She accepts hers and takes a sip, but before she has a chance to divulge her opinion on life in Auckland I feel Lucinda and become instantly distracted by her nearness. She doesn't open a link, purposely leaving me to my business meeting, but her nearness soothes my soul. I relax back in my seat and savour the wine before me, returning my attention to Erika.

  "The weather's not too bad," Erika is saying. "And the scenery is nice."

  I smile knowingly at her. "Yes, the scenery."

  She blushes slightly, it reminds me of Lucinda. On Erika, a blush is striking. On Lucinda it is enticing.

  "Well, you have added to the line since I last returned, that was a very pleasant surprise," she adds.

  "I'm glad you approve," I tease, taking another sip of wine and enjoying the close proximity of my kindred in the next room. I wonder if she is talking with any of my vampyres. I am tempted to send a thought to Doug to find out, but I do not wish to appear desperate. Only I need know of how far gone I actually am.

  "How many of the line do you have in Auckland right now, anyway?" she asks, taking another casual sip of her wine.

  Lucinda's heart rate has increased. I am distracted again. I cannot get a handle on her emotion, she is shutting me out for some reason. I get an image from Doug, a courtesy. A blonde human chatting my girl up. I am tempted to intervene, my vampyre-within all but snarls in a possessive reaction, but I know Lucinda needs some normality in her life. A human showing some interest in front of my vampyres cannot be of alarm. I quietly acknowledge the bartender's advisement and retreat from his mind. The message will be clear: I am not concerned.

  "Are most of them here now?" Erika's question brings me back to the office and the topic of conversation.

  I answer without thought. "There are only sixty or so in the country right now."

  She nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer.

  "Do you feel settled here, little one?"

  She looks uncomfortable for a moment, maybe she thinks her answer will displease me.

  "I am becoming settled, Michel. I have always felt more settled when closer to you, Master."

  I laugh. The intended response, I should think. Erika never calls me Master unless she wishes to ruffle my feathers. I laugh a little more.

  And then I feel Lucinda leaving.

  I immediately stand upright and start rubbing my chest right above my heart.

  "Michel?" Erika asks, also standing.

  "Lucinda is leaving the building." I haven't even said hello yet.

  "A hunt?" Erika offers and I relax slightly. Lucinda could do with a hunt and if my guess is right, Amisi is with her.

  I send a thought out to Doug and receive a muffled answer in response. Yes, Amisi is with Lucinda, but I'm not sure whether he believes Lucinda has left the club. Maybe he missed her exit.

  I stand still for a moment longer, indecision waging with a need to not intrude. Lucinda has always prided herself on her ability to hunt without assistance. She has Amisi with her, how bad could it be? My chest aches, my hand absently rubs above my heart, my mind is in turmoil.

  "Michel, Lucinda is an accomplished Hunter, there is no need to fret."

  I glance at Erika, she smiles encouragingly. I force myself to return to my seat. Within a second, Erika has also retaken her own. She takes another sip of wine, but I cannot enjoy the flavour now. All my concentration is on keeping my vampyre-within quiet and not rubbing my chest again.

  "You know, I haven't met all of the new vampires that have joined the line," I h
ear Erika's voice, but the words make little sense. I don't know why I am feeling this, but something is wrong. "It would be nice to throw a party, get them all together. Make sure everyone is introduced to each other."

  "Hmm," I reply. "Good idea."

  "Shall I organise one? What do you think? Should we make it a theme party? I know Halloween has just passed, but maybe we could make it vampire kitsch. That's always a laugh."

  I have no idea what Erika is talking about, but she doesn't seem to want to shut up.

  "It would be a good morale booster. I have heard several of the new additions have found it difficult to feel included. I think a party to welcome them wouldn't go astray. What do you think, Michel?"

  I think I need to check on what Doug knows. His muffled mind-reply has me concerned. It is not like him to be inaccurate.

  I stand up again.

  Erika pauses mid drink.

  "I'd like to check on the club," I say, in way of answer.

  "I can do it, if you like," Erika offers, interrupting my thoughts of concern.

  I flick my gaze at her, but I am already half way across the room to the door. I don't have time to argue my intentions with anyone, let alone a recently returned vampyre of my line.

  "Come," I say. Sometimes commands make life so much more easier.

  As soon as we enter the main clubroom floor I am aware something is not right. I pause at the door to my private area, take in the number of Norms in the bar and then the number of my line. There are several vampyres in the corner over by the bar, being corralled by Doug. He is using force.

  But that, although worrisome, is not what makes me pause. Amisi is sitting at the bar. Without Lucinda. A human at her side, his arm around her stiff shoulders. Her stance unfriendly, on guard. A low growl escapes my lips. I send my thoughts out to Lucinda, I attempt to connect with her down our Bond. She is on Queen Street, her mind shut off to me, but the Bond does not comply so easily to her sense of independence. For now, at least, I know she is near.

 

‹ Prev