Blood Life Seeker (37 page)

Oh hell no. I was not giving
anyone
my
Sigillum
again, unless I
really
wanted to. I would not be manipulated, tricked or otherwise brow-beaten into giving up that part of me ever again.

“We will find another way,
ma douce
. We will be strong without it.”

He had heard every thought and for once I was glad not to have to repeat myself aloud.

Vampire dinners are not your normal affair. They feed on blood, but the blood must be flowing; warm, alive. Therefore to feed, they must have donors available to feed from. So, setting out the table with plates and knives and forks was just not going to cut it, was it?

They did have a table, of sorts, set up. Just not a standard one, instead it's like a really long version of a wide coffee table. You know, low to the ground so you can see the TV over the top of it, good for magazines and remote controls and all the other junk that gets piled on a coffee table. Well, at least, my coffee table is always covered in junk.

The table in the Great Dining Hall, as it was called, was one big, long and very wide coffee table, nothing set on it, just a plain black table cloth covering it from end to end. On either side were low and comfortable chairs, beside which were small side tables, where carafes of wine and wine glasses sat. The vamps would feed on live donors, but they would discuss politics over a glass of Burgundy, or as the locals here call it,
Vin de Bourgogne
.

The fact that a human was in their presence who would quite like a plate of normal food was irrelevant. This was a vampire stronghold, so only vampire needs would be met at this dinner. I did have wine next to me though, so at least I could just dull the effects of the evening with alcohol. I wondered if drinking alcohol would aid me in blocking out their mind control mojo or make it easier for them to get behind my shields. I guessed easier, so I quietly pushed the red wine away and poured myself a glass of water.

Michel and I had both dressed quickly and quietly, neither one daring to say a word or turn to watch the other dress. It was too painful. For both of us I think. Michel had chosen my dress. I didn't complain, this was his ball game, his turf, he knew what would work and what wouldn't. He had chosen a short dress, which surprised me, so
not
Michel's normal choice, had we been dining alone together. He liked long dresses. He said it was to keep his imagination fresh, never being able to see what he desired openly, but to be teased through the clinging fabric of a dress throughout the meal obviously did it for him. He said he had a very good imagination and I did not doubt him one bit.

The dress was black. I think he might have been humouring me there, black is my favourite colour choice when it comes to clothing, but this dress was bejewelled. Tiny
Swarovski Crystals
,
intricately sewn all over the entire dress in a pattern. At first I couldn't recognise the pattern, it was so intricately done, so small, but when I concentrated enough, I realised it was a dancing dragon. The dancing dragon. The one I had spotted on Michel's private jet and in his chamber at
Sensations
. I also noticed the waistcoat he wore under his Tuxedo jacket now, was covered in the dancing dragon too. This time just a relief on black fabric, slightly shinier than the fabric behind, so it stood out, but not too much.

My dress hugged my body, not a gap to spare. I was silently glad I kept fit, it didn't allow for too much imagination at all. I guess Michel wasn't in the mood to think up fantasies over dinner. The neckline was low and had just two thin straps on each shoulder holding it up. It had to have a specially fitted bra sewn into the dress itself, or I would have simply fallen out all over the place. Surprisingly, it wasn't uncomfortable once on. It moved when I moved, it didn't get in my way, it didn't even slip and make me feel like I would fall out of it. It was stretchy, snug and tight and perfect. Except for one thing. I couldn't hide a stake anywhere. Not even a small silver knife in a thigh shield, it was simply too short.

Not being armed was not making me happy. But, it was probably likely that I would have been checked for weapons at the dinner. Because the dress left nothing to the imagination, I was not frisked however, just glared at by the guards at the door. I flashed on the thought that this may have been why Michel had chosen such a revealing outfit for me, so I wouldn't suffer the indignity of a body search when I arrived in the hall. To the vampires, the thought of being armed at the banquet was not considered appropriate. So, I had to swallow my fear and also had to grin and bear it. Funnily enough, it wasn't the slip of a dress that made me feel naked, but the lack of my stake that did.

There were fourteen chairs around the low lying table, all spread out evenly. Michel and I were placed at either end of the length, meaning I didn't even have Michel's proximity to calm my nerves. It was strategic, of course, for more than than just one reason. It separated us and therefore made us more vulnerable, but it also allowed the the twelve council members, six on either side of the long table length, to be able to watch us and study us, without having to strain their necks. We were on show and under the microscope tonight.

Everyone had dressed for the occasion, however I was the most revealing and it didn't escape my notice that those closest to me weren't against undressing me with their eyes. I refused to blush, or squirm, under their gazes. Vampires all over the world are the same. These guys were no different. The council was made up of ten male vampires and only two female. Sexual equality didn't exist back when the
Iunctio
was originally formed. Even though the
Iunctio
had only recently, in the last century or so, come back into its power, with the help of the Nosferatin, it had been around for millennia. Old rules die hard. The fact that the current Champion is a female is just lucky. Oh, and proves just how powerful she actually is.

There was nothing I could do to stop my short dress riding up my thighs, showing off the lacy tops of my thigh high hose and try as I might, probably a glimpse of the matching underwear too, in the low chairs they had provided. Had Michel known I would be so on display? Was this supposed to help us? I
really
didn't want to follow that thought to completion.

The two vampire council members on either side of me had introduced themselves, none of the others had bothered, only watched me with varying degrees of brightness and colour change in their eyes. On my left was the Scribe, he was responsible for keeping records of our time and preserving those of the past. An historian, you might say. I couldn't help feeling this vampire, although a master and undoubtedly a powerful one to be on the
Iunctio
, didn't really carry much weight. He was old, perhaps 600 years or so, so most of our history he probably knew first hand, but he didn't
look
older than 35, the age of when he was turned. Definitely a traditionalist, his hair was loose, long and a deep brown, almost lustrous, as though it had been brushed and brushed within an inch of its life. The rest of his appearance had equally been well put together. This vampire liked to impress. Perhaps it made up for his lack of clout.

His clothes were tailored to fit his trim and tall physique, but modern despite his age and his role as an historian. He would have fitted in anywhere, where a Tux was required. Some of the most successful vampires are those who can blend in with current fashion well. He had startling baby blue eyes, that flecked with paler powder blue. The combination unusual, because of its lack of deep and dark colours. Most vampires eyes have shades of a darker colour within them, becoming more prominent when washed with heightened emotions. It would be interesting to see what happened to the pale blues when he got going. Not that I ever want to encourage a vampire to lose control, but I was still intrigued.

The vampire on my right was the Tempest. The skills he brought to the
Iunctio
were all his own. Should he ever be replaced on the council, his title would no doubt cease to exist. He could manipulate and control the weather. He scared me. Not because of his climatic magic, which Michel had warned was phenomenal, but because he just reeked evil. He was, however, doing his best to rein it in and offer up polite conversation. Michel had told me, he was currently the Champion's mate. Not boyfriend, not partner, not lover, but mate. When I had asked why he used that term, he had simply said it was a vampire thing and shrugged his shoulders in that casual elegant way he has. Mate, did not make me think of elegance however, just animals. How close to the truth was it?

He had light brown hair, just long enough to tie behind his head. His outfit, although elegant, was not as well put together as the Scribe. It seemed rushed, I even noticed a button on his cuff that had not been done up, or he had simply forgotten to put his cuff links in at all, I couldn't see the other side, he kept that hand out of sight. His eyes were a piercing blue, almost ultramarine, with flecks of turquoise. Most alarming. I had to fight not to look at them. I knew, without a doubt, he would be one of the few vamps who could catch me with their glaze, so I was determined not to let him.

He did try to cover me with his voice though, but it wasn't at all pleasant, it just made me feel uncomfortable, as though his goal was to make me squirm. Vampire tricks can be tedious, I was shielding like hell, but it was taking concentration and strength, neither of which I had in abundance right now. That's probably why he was doing it.

I glanced around the table. The council had all arrived, we had only sat down when the Champion, the last to enter the hall, had sat herself. Fair enough, she was the boss. My gaze flicked over Gregor, I had to force myself not to let it stop and linger there. In the brief glimpse I did allow myself I noticed he was dressed as beautifully as the first night I had seen him, in the alley near the
Trevi Fountain
.
He looked stunning. He was talking animatedly to the only other female at the table. She was beautiful, in a timeless way, as though her beauty transcended fashion, or trend, it just was. I gathered she had to be the Pandora. Her aura flashed a blackness that seemed so solid, I had to look twice. Whereas the others around the table had varying degrees of Light within them, Pandora just had Dark. It confused me, I hadn't expected such Dark to exist in the
Iunctio
.

The Champion's voice whispered through my mind, I hadn't realised she could do that. Read my thoughts yes, but speak to me in my head? No.

Why are you surprised? Are we not all Children of the Dark?

The
we
she referred to was of course the Nosferatu. As I, a Nosferatin, am a Child of the Light, they are Children of the Dark.

The Dark exists in all of you, but where there is Dark, there should always be Light; as where there is Light, there should always be Dark,
I answered in my thoughts.

Yet you see no Light in her. Does this worry you?

I couldn't lie to the Champion, she already knew my thoughts. And if you have ever tried not to think of a thought, when it has already blossomed in your mind, then you'd know it's impossible. So I didn't.

I am unsure what my Light would do to her should she come close.

Do you have so little control of your Light?

And here was the big, big, question. The reason why we were sitting around this table pretending to have polite conversation. If the council decided I was a threat to the
Iunctio
or to the Nosferatu as a whole, then I would be disposed of. They wouldn't need the Champion's permission, they wouldn't need her to pass the judgement and therefore fail to kill me because of Nut's protection. They would just do. One of them, without direction, but mutual consent.

You already know the answer to that.

I want you to say it. To admit it. Her words were sharp in my mind.

So you can tell the others?

She didn't answer. She just vanished from my mind. It was as though I could feel her when she was there, like a weight inside my head, but there was just an emptiness when she was gone. I didn't understand why she had left. It didn't make sense.

The two vampires next to me, must have realised I was having an internal conversation and they probably knew it was with the Champion, so had started talking to each other, giving me some space. They didn't know the conversation was over, so I took advantage of their lack of interest in me to scan the rest of the table.

My eyes fell on the Diviner. He was studying Gregor. But Gregor hadn't noticed his interest and was just talking to the Pandora as he had been from when we first sat. I had seen that look in the Diviner's eyes before though, when he had noticed the Champion had a connection to me. As soon as that thought was completed in my head, the Diviner's eyes flicked to me and held my gaze. He knew Gregor and I had a connection and he would know it was an exchange of
Sigillum
. He smiled and it was a wicked smile. Oh shit.

He held my gaze, but must have somehow spoken to the Champion. Probably just projected his thoughts, because her gaze slowly shifted back to me. Like a snake spotting its prey.

You have been naughty, Hunter. He is ours and you have stolen him.

Oh double shit.

She stood then and it was all I could do not to run from that room.

The vampires around the table went to stand with her, but she simply waved her hand at them, indicating they should all remain seated. Silence filled the space, as though it was tangible, something you could grasp, or should cower from.

“Enforcer. Would you be so kind as to stand.” Her voice echoed around the hall, bouncing off the walls, rattling the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, making the carafes of wine vibrate next to our seats. This was not good.