Blood Life Seeker (32 page)

Well, you got yourself into this position, you've only got yourself to blame
, my internal monologue piped up. I just sobbed harder into my knees.

It hadn't escaped me that I'd had my lips on someone else's flesh, other than my kindred vampire's, but it' just no consolation when it happens to you, is it? And, he had made me so angry. He had done this on purpose. Everything Michel does is planned. Don't worry about how we get there, just do whatever is needed to win, to survive.

I hated him right then, with such a bitter hatred it made me cry even harder, but these were no longer tears of loss, of pain. They were tears of frustration and anger. Frustration of having him make me feel all of these awful emotions when all I really wanted was him to help me out of this mess.

I don't know how long I'd been sitting there, not long enough for French Pretty to come out of the room though. And if Michel had fed like he normally does, it should have only taken a minute, maybe two, considering how weak he was feeling, but not the many I felt it had been. No, he was either taking his sweet friggin' time about it, or progressed to more pleasurable pursuits than just feeding.

I balled my fists and slammed them into the carpeted floor by my sides.

“Is there a reason you are beating up the floor, little Hunter?”

I lifted my tear stained face to Gregor. His teasing smile faltered slightly and he slowly sat himself down next to me, back against the same door.

“I take it, things did not go well after I left?”

I humphed a sound, quite unattractive I might add, but didn't elaborate further.

He's friggin' feeding. He's friggin' feeding
.
It seemed to be all I could think.

“Ah,” Gregor said. I didn't even worry that he'd heard my thoughts.

He stood then, that beautiful magical swish from floor to standing in a smooth motion and held his hand out to me.

I just looked at it,  not comprehending.

“Come, little Hunter. Let me show you
Paris
.” He said
Paris
, like the French do, not pronouncing the s and rolling the r, so it's kind of like Parree, but prettier.

I shook my head.

“Do you really wish to be here when the donor comes out bathed in the afterglow of a feeding?” He said it gently, softly.  He wasn't trying to hurt.

I gulped in a breath of air.
No friggin' way!

“That's my girl. The night is still young and there is so much to see in this fair city.”

I attempted a smile, it was small and probably pathetic, but it did make me feel better and took his hand, allowing him to pull me to my feet. His arm went around my shoulders and before I could protest, he whispered in my ear, “This is how the French do it,
ma petite chasseuse.
Let us do as the locals do,
non
?”

Yeah ri-ight. But I didn't make him pull away.

I don't remember how we got to the
Champs-Elysées
. We travelled in an
Iunctio
car; black, long and with tinted windows, driven by a vampire driver. I vaguely remember the driver saying something to Gregor when he'd flashed a look on me and Gregor's
Sanguis Vitam
pouring over me towards the other vampire. But I don't know what was said or what it all meant. Gregor simply bundled me into the back of the limousine and sat next to me, not touching, but watching.

My mind was elsewhere, on thoughts I really shouldn't have been indulging. They were dangerous and painful and didn't do a thing to help me slow my breathing or still my rapidly beating heart. Or take away the ache that had settled in my chest, threatening to consume me.

The world was suddenly darker than the night alone should have made it. The only thing stopping me from falling completely into that darkness was the lights of the
Avenue des Champs-Elysées.
They sparkled. Not just from the lights of the traffic, which were plenty; both diamonds and rubies, jewels shining in the night, but the glittering decorations of the trees that lined the eight lane road on either side. Like Christmas trees in December. Bright dots of dancing white, splashes of yellow and gold, hints of diamonds and crystals, glowing and warming the night. At the end of all that splendour was the majestic
Arc de Triomphe
also lit up like a
centrepiece, sitting proud at the end of all that magical light. No wonder they called this city the
City of Light
.

“Do you like it, my little Hunter?” The first words Gregor had uttered since we got in the car.

“It's beautiful. The lights.” I didn't know what else to say, they took my breath away, but in a wondrous, most happy way. They had the ability to lift my soul, when I had only moments before thought that an impossibility, lost to me forever.

“I could not think of another place in
Paris
that would help you more.”

I turned to look at him, trying to see what he meant. Had he known the lights would help? Had he chosen this on purpose? Did he know me better than I knew myself?

“Thank you,” was all I could think of to say. I turned back to the lights.

Gregor leaned forward and said something in French to the driver. I didn't pay attention, I just let the lights wash over me and felt a small shadow of warmth seep in, chasing away the chill of before.

The car pulled to the side of the road, negotiating the hordes of vehicles, like the parting of the Red Sea. They simply moved out of the driver's way, almost a dance-like movement, as though it had been rehearsed and practised for years. We stopped next to the curb and some brightly lit shops and cafés, all of which seemed to be open, even though we must have been well into the wee hours of the morning by now. Clearly this city never slept.

The driver came to open my door and I took his offered hand. There is no elegant way to exit a car in a short skirt, you take every advantage offered to you, otherwise you could end up flashing the world. I did not particularly wish to flash the Parisians on the pavement, somehow their own sophisticated demeanour making me want to improve my own casual and less than graceful ways. The driver's hand was cold, he hadn't fed recently, unusual. Vampires were normally more careful than this. A human touching that hand might have been alarmed. I just looked at him as his gaze met mine and tried not to blink as hunger filled his eyes and they shifted to my neck.

In a flash Gregor was gripping his hand, another wave of
Sanguis Vitam
flowing out towards the driver. He uttered a few short words in French, quietly, so as not to arouse the attention of the many people sauntering along the wide footpath arm in arm. I understood him this time,
go feed,
before you expose us all
. It was a command. So, was this one of Gregor's own vampires, or was he simply able to command him because of who Gregor was? Could he command an
Iunctio
flunky like one of his own line? I didn't know and I also didn't want to know. The thought that this leech could belong to Gregor was not happy, neither was the thought that Gregor had the power to influence others who weren't part of his line. I decided it might be best to remain ignorant on this one.

The driver bowed, not too low as to get looks from passers-by, but enough to show respect and returned to his side of the vehicle. Gregor turned to me and flashed a smile, letting a little sparkle enter his eyes and my
Sigillum
shine a little brighter. Seeing the
Sigillum
come alive was enough to make me reach for for him, even before he'd begun to offer his arm. He cocked his head slightly, then the smile lit up even further. That wonderful display of beguiling innocence, laced with a hint of more wicked things to come.

“Shall we walk,
ma petite chasseuse
?”

I nodded and snuggled in next to his arm, for some reason unable to keep a respectable distance between us. What was wrong with me? He shifted his arm to around my shoulders, pulling the length of my body against his firm side. Making me mould into him and making me wrap my own arm around his waist and feel his warmth. It sent tingles down my body and made me catch me breath. Damn it, what was wrong with me tonight?

I took a deep breath to clear my head and felt marginally better. I could still feel him, it still felt good, but I could think a little now too.

“Why are all the shops still open, it's late?” Surely, even Paris had to sleep.

“The
Champs-Elysées
is very important to the vampires. Did you know
Champs-Elysées
is French for Elysian Fields?”

I shook my head. “What is the Elysian Fields?”

“
Elysium
is the place of the blessed dead. It is the afterlife for those related to the gods. Elysian Fields is considered the garden of
Elysium
, where we can come to play before returning to that realm. It exists solely because of the vampyre and therefore its hours are made to suit our needs.”

“You feed here?” Feeding was a vampire need. I was a little shocked they'd feed openly here. Vampires nowadays, usually fed in private, off the streets, away from discovery, using only those donors aware and willing. Those that feed on the street are usually rogue, full of evil and what I am made to hunt.

“Among other things.
Paris
is different from the rest of the world,
ma cherie.
It is the home of the
Iunctio
, the seat of all our power and as such, certain liberties are available to us.”

Oh that was so wrong. “Have you fed tonight? Or are you planning on picking up a little something along the way?”

He laughed, my temper not having a blind bit of effect on him. “
Ma cherie
, I have fed already this night, you need not worry, however should you be offering...” He let the sentence hang in the air.

Not in this lifetime
,
I thought.

He just laughed harder, pulling me tighter to him, making me feel the rumble go through his body and then into mine. I took another deep breath in and failed to hold on to my anger.

“Have you
eaten, little Hunter? You hardly touched your plate of food in your chamber, I am guessing you have not eaten anything else since?”

As soon as he said it, my stomach rumbled, as though on cue. He manoeuvred us towards a brightly lit café, which had a red awning over the gold framed glass windows, simply saying
Fouquet's
. We were greeted at the door by a doorman, who seemed to recognise Gregor and rushed to seat us at a window seat, shooing away a waiter in the process and taking it upon himself to be our personal maître d'. The plush red and black, with gold trim seats, were both facing the street, making Gregor close to me and nothing between us as we sat. His leg brushed mine and my heart skipped a beat. I shook my head in disbelief. Everything he seemed to be doing tonight had a far greater effect on me than usual. It just didn't make any sense at all.

The maître d' handed me a menu, he didn't bother to hand one to Gregor, simply leaving us for the time being. It surprised me, that he had known Gregor would not eat. I was not used to humans being so aware of the creatures of the night.

“Does he know what you are?” I whispered.

“
Of course. This is the
Champs-Elysées
.” He didn't elaborate further, he seemed to think the answer alone was sufficient. I guess it was. He'd said the
Champs-Elysées
was there because of the vampires, I guess he had meant it.

I studied the menu, just for something to do. I was hungry, but not really seeing the words in front of me. Traditional French cuisine, but for the life of me, I couldn't decipher one word from the other.

Gregor reached over and took the menu form my hands, placing it on the table next to him. He took my hand in his and ran circles around my palm. The movement calming me immediately, helping me to focus on his eyes; flashing silver, with hints of grey.

I just stared at him, unable to pull my gaze away. He didn't shift under my scrutiny, just ate me up with his look, devouring every inch of my face.

“You have no idea how much I have wanted to have you here in
Paris
with me,” he whispered, still devouring me with his eyes.

“I thought Rome was your home.”

“Rome is my work,
Paris
is where I play.”

I didn't miss the innuendo, instead I leaned in a little closer, completely unable to stop myself. His hand went up to my face, cupping it, stroking along my jaw. My lips parted, again all of their own accord and my eyes kept tracing the line of his mouth, the curve of his own lips. Making me want more than anything to bridge the small gap that remained and taste him, lick him, consume him. All of him.

“You have bewitched me,
ma cherie
. I can't seem to stop wanting you more and more. What would you have of me? I am yours.” His voice was slightly husky, low, barely a whisper, but I heard every one.

Before I could even think of a response, the words were out of mouth. “Kiss me.” Part of me yelling,
what the fuck?
Another part wanting, needing, pleading for this to happen.

His eyes flashed platinum, making me blink mine to stop from being blinded and he pulled me against his chest as he whispered, “Yes.”

The touch of his lips at first so soft, but as soon as skin met skin, I felt a jolt of liquid heat rush through me, straight to him and he made a small inarticulate sound and pulled me closer. His tongue devouring mine, his mouth smothering mine, his need just as strong as mine. I gave as good as I got, attempting to suck his very soul out of his mouth. I think we had both forgotten where we were, still very public, sitting in a café on the
Champs-Elysées
with other customers all around.

We only pulled apart from one another when I started to feel faint from lack of air and it was only then that I noticed the waiters had quietly surrounded our table with screens, providing us privacy from the people in the restaurant, but unable to stop anyone from glancing in the windows. I had to convince myself that no one had bothered to look, but I had no proof, it was a hollow thought, and even then it didn't seem to matter.

While I tried to catch my breath and Gregor continued to gaze at me with utter desire written across his face, I kept thinking, what has got into me? What on Earth has got into me? Only moments before I had been upset at Michel, but still wanting him with every fibre of my body. But right now all I wanted was Gregor and to hell with Michel. What the..?

The thought was gone as soon as it came, with the feel of Gregor's hand on my own, stroking softly, sending more and more shivers down my body. The maître d' came and Gregor said something in French, eyes only for me.

Moments later we had still not moved. Stuff the view from our window, I couldn't have told you if people even existed on the street outside. Then the maître d' came back with a frothy coffee and a slice of delightfully looking cake. It looked like a chocolate cake, layered with sponge in between the sheets of dark rich looking chocolate. I smelled the coffee and almonds before I'd even tasted it and my mouth watered in anticipation.

Gregor laughed; a low chuckle that wrapped around me and stroked down my cheek. “Eat,
ma cherie.
The Opera Gateau waits for no one.”

He didn't need to tell me twice, suddenly tasting what was in front of me was irresistible. It did taste as good as it looked too and with the rich creamy coffee, I was in Heaven. Gregor sat back and watched me, his smile wide on his face, his eyes flashing the occasional silver streak.

“Do you miss it? Eating I mean?” I asked between delicious mouthfuls.

“Yes and no. I could taste it also, if I were to kiss you now. I would most definitely taste it, if I were to drink you now. There are ways to taste food, that does not require my eating it.”