Blood Life Seeker (31 page)

“Lucinda. I took advantage of your fragility when you came to me upon hearing of the trouble with the Taniwhas. Gregor has only done the same now, after your confrontation with the Champion. It is in our natures. We find it hard to resist an opportunity when so presented.”

I just wasn't getting it. Yes, I had been upset when I came to Michel after hearing from Jerome, but he had done everything in his power to give me control of that moment, refusing to even kiss me until I asked him to. I was the one that had taken it the step further. I was the one that had lowered my hastily built walls and let him back in. So, why was he saying he had taken advantage of me? I needed him, he gave me what I wanted only when I asked.

And then I got it. He wasn't saying this for Gregor's benefit, or because of any stupid treaty or agreement that we have made. He was saying this to remind me. To remind me of what we shared and how it hadn't been. He had not taken advantage of me, he had let me come to him, but Gregor, right now, that was a different thing altogether.

I was both upset and exhausted from confronting the Champion, nearly dying and losing Michel. Gregor had pushed me, maybe even taken advantage of me, I'm not sure, but he certainly hadn't stopped me from making a mistake when I was
so
not my normal self. But this knowledge only made me angry with Michel. Angry that he was proving a point like this, in this way. For making me feel used by Gregor now and dirty for doing it, all under the pretence of it being OK. Acceptable. Just what vampires are. But really, to make me recognise, that Michel was the good guy and Gregor was the bad. I've never liked round about ways of saying something. If you've got something to say, don't beat around the bush, just say it.

His eyes hadn't left me as I'd processed all of this. There was a slight coldness there, a calculating intelligence. Oh Michel, if this wasn't manipulation, then what was?

But what I said was, “OK. Battlefield levelled. I'm taking a shower.”

And I walked out of the room.

I managed to find some more of my regular hunting outfits in my suitcase after I had showered. In amongst pretty dresses and sparkling evening wear, which I reluctantly hung up in the wardrobe. How Michel expected me to wear long dresses around so many vampires who want me dead, I did not know. But he had put in some black gear and thankfully, some short skirts and tight tops. My comfortable, easy-to-move-in hunter gear. Yippee.

So, dressed in familiar near Gothic-look ensemble, including two stakes and a silver knife inside my black jacket - I know, what did I think I needed those for in the
Palais
, but a hunter is always a hunter - I felt able to face whatever waited for me out in the lounge. When I came out of the bedroom however, Gregor was gone and Michel was reclining on the couch, eyes closed, hand still to the bridge of his nose. Ah damn, he never looked like this. He must have been suffering.

He opened his eyes and looked at me. I didn't move, just held his gaze, trying not to sink into those beautiful blue pools of sparkling light. I was still angry with him and definitely uncomfortable about how he had found me and Gregor, I so didn't want to crumble under that gaze. He just smiled slowly, he knew how hard I found it to resist.

“Come sit with me,
ma douce
.” He held a hand out for me to take.

I hesitated.

“Please,
ma douce
, I need you close.”

That did it. I could not deny him my strength when he looked so tired, so
not
him. I slipped onto the sofa next to him and let him wrap me in his arms. My head resting on his chest, my feet both up on the seat, under my legs. I was almost curled in a little ball next to him. I guess part of that may have been to protect me, from what he might say, but I didn't care what message it sent, I felt a little fragile myself.

He kissed the top of my head, leaving his nose in my hair. I knew he'd be inhaling my scent, taking me all in. It's just a vampire thing, they can't help it. Scent is important to them. I found it a little strange, when I first met Michel. Even before I really got to know him, he'd find ways to get close to me, to smell my hair, or when he kissed the back of my hand formally, he'd linger there. It didn't take long for me to realise he was smelling me and I admit at first I thought it weird, but once you start to understand a creature, it's easier to accept what they do as normal. Hell, even I enjoy people's scent more now than I used to.

“Where's Gregor?” I don't know why I said it, it just came out. Stupid foot in mouth moment. I wasn't even thinking of him as I said it, I was thinking about Michel holding me in his arms, so why, oh why, did I mention
the other man?

Michel stiffened, just slightly. I think it was a reaction he couldn't control, one he then tried to hide, but failed miserably.

“Why do you ask?” His voice was even, neutral. I knew better.

“Just wondering.”

“Just wondering. Mm-hmm.”

Oh dear, this was not going well.

“Should I be apologising?” It came out a bit harshly.

I really don't know what was wrong with me, I could have been handling this so much better. Michel had been sitting here waiting to cuddle me, prepared, no doubt, to sweep everything aside and just comfort me in his arms. So why was
I
so angry? Angry at him. But I was, I realised, I was so, so angry at him. For putting me in this position, for acting like he owned me, for degrading me in front of Gregor. For even coming to me that first day we met, when he walked into the bank in broad daylight and I knew my life as I had known it was over. For making me what I am today. Damn him. Damn him to hell.

“Do you have something you wish to say to me, Lucinda?”

Oh, and there you have it, we'd made it to Lucinda, bypassed
my dear
and got right to the end mark. This was really not going well, was it?

“I don't like the way you made your point before.” Perhaps honesty was the ticket here.

“And I do not like finding my kindred Nosferatin on top of a rival vampyre while I have been compromised so.”

I pulled away from him. It's hard to continue to cuddle into someone when they're angry and you're angry and everyone's just so damn angry.

“Do you think I hadn't looked after you?” I demanded.

“You tell me. I was out cold. The first thing I hear is you telling Gregor to
don't stop.
”

Oh bugger. He'd heard that thought.

“I don't always have control over how I react around Gregor, you know that. And besides, hadn't we
all
decided Gregor could be a part of our lives. All so bohemian.”

He stood up abruptly then, so quickly I couldn't even appreciate the grace and walked away from me, turning when he reached the far wall and just glaring. The deep blue of his eyes had lightened and flashes of indigo and violet were swirling in their midsts.

“It was not
my
desire to have Gregor so close and... perhaps you should learn some control.”

“What? You acted as if it was OK, as if it was par for the course, unavoidable. And control huh?
Perhaps
I don't want to learn control.” OK. So, now I think I was just saying anything to get a reaction, to hurt, because I was hurting. But that was so not what I had meant to say.
So
not.

“Is that what you wish?” He'd gone so still.

No. I wanted to say. No dammit. I really wanted to say: I want you and only you, but you keep doing things that aren't fair, that make me feel small and used and just something you want to possess. You keep shifting the goal posts and I don't know what's right or wrong or out of my control. Or something I should be able to just say no to anymore. But what I said was, “Maybe.” Jeez, could I possibly be putting my foot any further in my mouth here?

I think he'd stopped breathing. There was definitely no blinking, he was shutting down, he was shutting me out. I wanted to go to him and tell him I was sorry. Tell him I didn't mean it, but a small part of me kept saying, you have a right to be angry, you have been used and manipulated and you are
not
a possession.

So, I just sat there and watched him. So still, so unmoving, waiting for
him
to say he understood, to say he was sorry, but he's a vampire and a vampire is as a vampire does.

“I need to feed.” It was so not what I thought he'd say, I just blinked and looked at him.

“I am weak. Whatever happened with the Champion, I have not fully recovered. And we must face them again tomorrow night. I need to feed.”

“You don't want to discuss this any more?” Was he just giving up, ignoring it, trying to piss me off some more?

“Lucinda!” That made me jump. His voice bounced around the room, I had a brief moment to duck before the lamp next to me on a side table shattered, shards of china from its base flying out in all directions, scraping along my hands as they covered my head. Luckily I had my jacket on, but my hands bloody hurt.

He was upon me in the next instant, lifting me up off the couch by my arms, his fingers digging into my flesh, through the jacket, shaking me, like a rag doll. Shaking me, like he thought he could shake some sense into me.

“We do not have time for this! Do you not understand the danger we are still in?” He'd stopped shaking me, just held me off the ground by his hands at this stage. I couldn't reach the floor, so I tried to get my feet under me on the couch at least, but he simply took a step backward, away from that last hope of support and kept me dangling in the air. It wasn't nice, it hurt like hell and made me feel small. Again.

“So, what? You want to ignore the whole Gregor issue?” I asked, face blank.

“You are the one obsessed with Gregor. Not me.” His voice was low, a definite threat.

Was I? I thought we needed to get this sorted. I just about had sex with another man, shouldn't this be something we discussed? Come to an understanding on, decide where to from here? Hell I don't know, but ignoring it, that just seemed wrong.

“Lucinda. I need to feed.” It was almost desperate this time, pleading.

“Well, you're not getting any from me.” And with that, I knew I'd just done the most irreparable damage I could have possibly achieved to our relationship. He actually looked stunned. Then quickly recovered himself and placed me gently on the ground. He didn't push me, he didn't throw me, he just gently placed me on my feet.

“I shall order in take out then.” His voice so hollow, so not Michel.

He turned and went to the phone, hanging on the wall by the door. He spoke briefly in French into the mouthpiece, then hung up and rounded to look at me. A small amount of magenta now edging the violet and blue of his eyes.

“So, now they know. You will not feed me. They know we have a weakness.”

“Is that all that matters to you, Michel? That we appear weak in front of our enemies?”

“When at war, that is all there is, Lucinda.”

“No. It's not.”

We stood staring at each other for a long time, long enough for the
take out
to be delivered. The knock on the door making us both startle a little. I didn't want to see who it was. Male or female. Young or old. Black or white. There's just some things, you can't make yourself confront no matter how tough a vampire hunter you are.

Michel didn't answer the door straight away, just looked at the discomfort on my face. Then he simply walked across to the bedroom and said, “Show them in, would you? I will freshen up and await my meal in here.” Shutting the door to the bedroom behind him.

Bastard.
The door reverberated with another louder knock. I could have ignored it, just gone into the kitchen and Michel could have starved. The
meal
leaving when no one answered the door. I could have, you know, I was angry enough. They knocked again, more demanding, but still not quite bringing down the house. I sighed. Michel was lashing out, part of me acknowledging that he may have just cause
and
he was weak. Could I just go to him and bare my neck and say,
here slip your fangs in
? I shook my head. Another knock, not quite so certain, on the door.

That's what he wanted of course, for me to capitulate. My staunch opposition to him ever feeding from any one else, making me go to him now and offering my vein. He should have known me better than that. I do not like being backed into a corner.

I went to the door and swung it wide open. A young female human stood across the threshold. She blinked, recognising immediately that I wasn't a vampire. She glanced quickly at the number of our chamber at the side of the door, then back to me and frowned.

Of course, she was pretty, in a French casual chic kind of way. Long auburn hair, down past her shoulders, wrapping around her neck, no doubt to hide any recent fang marks. Not that Michel always took from the neck, there were other more intimate, larger veins that did just as well.
Oh hell, Lucinda! Stop it!

She had large hazel eyes, with thick lashes, a shapely body, contained in casual dress trousers and a black blouse with tiny embroidered flowers all over it. And she was, of course, taller than me.

“You must be dinner.” So, I was pissed off and feeling small, sue me.

“
Excusez-moi?
”

Great, no English.

“
Vampire, dans la.
” I pointed to the bedroom and she smiled, waltzed past me, with her hips swaying and her beautifully curvy body moving to some music I couldn't hear.

She knocked on the bedroom door and I suddenly did not want to be there when Michel opened it and saw what his dinner would entail. So I slipped out of the front door to our chamber and firmly closed it behind me, sinking to the floor on my butt, legs pulled up tight, arms around them, holding them close and face hiding between my knees.

I didn't want to think about what Michel was doing. Unless in a battle, feeding is a very intimate, personal thing. The bite can be painful, it can be made excruciating, but most vampires when they feed on willing donors, make it pleasurable. Pleasure to a vampire is desire, sex, the loss of inhibitions. Donors like our tall and auburn-haired French pretty, could become addicted to it. Why wasn't I? Michel and I shared a Bond, feeding was intimate because we made it so, but only because I allowed it be. I could have switched that part of me off, just like I shield from his
Sanguis Vitam.
Regular humans can not.

French Pretty would be enjoying herself very soon and I was sitting outside the chamber door like some love sick puppy cast aside. I hadn't planned on crying, I even considered just getting up and walking away, that's what a strong vampire hunter would have done. But I was so hurt, I felt so small and even the anger I had felt at Michel was numbed by the sheer injustice of it all. By the fact that
my
vampire was about to place his lips against that perfectly smooth, young flesh of a willing female donor and make her feel things that only I should be feeling.