I felt his warm sea breeze wash over me, the smell of meadows in spring surround me, clean cut grass engulf me, as his whisper in my mind caressed me.
There is only you, ma douce, there will only ever be you. I am yours and always will be.
He lifted my face up to his with his fingers on my chin and I was met with most mesmerizing blues, indigos and amethysts, swirling and dancing, drawing me in. His lips when they met mine were so soft, so careful, but warm and smooth, and I melted against their touch, opening myself up and letting him in. He took the hint and began kissing me in earnest. First a little more firmly, then a slip of his tongue, followed by the press of his body as he lay me back on the couch. I gave back everything I had, tasting him, smelling him, trying to get as close as I could to him. It was as though we hadn't touched for weeks, not just days or hours and our bodies craved each other, longed for each other and we were just along for the ride.
Despite every doubt I may have had, every horror of the past few days, Michel was a part of me I couldn't deny, didn't want to deny. I knew reality would, at some point, come knocking on my door, but for now this was all I wanted. All I needed.
The couch disappeared, the plane disappeared, it was just us. With frantic movements and small pleads and soft sounds as we devoured each other with a need so strong it left room for nothing else.
But then there
was
something else.
I tried to ignore it at first. I tried to pretend it wasn't buzzing in the background, trying to stop this moment, trying to force me away from Michel, but it was persistent and got louder and louder and louder, until finally I felt it burst inside me. Like a thousand different flashes of light, so bright, so dazzling, so strong. They burnt for so long and shone so bright, that I couldn't breathe through all of that blinding light. I couldn't do anything but let it wash over me, around me, through me, until finally it all began to dim. Slowly at first, just a bit, then a little more, then I felt a door quietly open up inside my mind.
At first, just a small crack and then wider, further, until it got so far open it just tipped the scale of balance and sprang back that last little bit, to lock wide open against the wall of my mind. I couldn't close it, I couldn't reach it and I knew I needed to, because what was on the other side scared me. It scared me half to death. Scared me more than facing the Champion, scared me more than loosing Michel, scared me more than all the multitudes of problems my life existed on right now.
It scared me so much, that I woke up abruptly, from wherever the hell I had been, with a gasp and reached blindly out for something to anchor me. Thankfully finding Michel, who was looking down at me with concern written all over his face.
“What is it,
ma douce
? What happened?”
I swallowed passed the fear and managed in a strangled whisper, “I think it's another Nosferatin power, but it's strong. So, so strong.” I closed my eyes again, to try to calm my ragged nerves.
He didn't say anything, just sat there holding me, stroking my arms, letting me know he was there.
Then I felt them, so many of them, everywhere. They were familiar and yet different. I knew who they were, what they were, how much Dark resided in each and every one. I'd got good at
seeking
them, seeing them, finding them, and now... now they were all looking at me.
“Oh my God, Michel.” I shuddered at the vision in my mind. “Oh my God. There's just so many of them.”
“Many of what,
ma douce
?” His voice so level, so contained. I could tell he was scared too. Unsure of what had my emotions so raw and full of fear.
I swallowed and forced myself to open my eyes and look at him again.
“Dark vampires. Those that I have
sought
before and always knew where they were, what they were, how Dark they were, but now.... now they know where
I
am too. And they're coming.” I let him see the fear I felt inside in my eyes. “My God, Michel, they're coming.
I saw it in his eyes then too, he understood. My shields were still down, my mind still open to him and he slipped inside and saw it all.
“
Mon Dieu,
” he whispered.
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“
Je suis ici, ma douce cherie. Venez à moi.
”
She looks so pale laying there, perfect cream skin against a red satin that immediately brings images to my mind that are wholly inappropriate right now. Where is she? Where has she gone?
My heart still refuses to beat. It won't utter a single thud until I know she is safe. So warm beneath my fingers, so soft against my skin. Her heart beats steadily, her breaths are even and unlaboured. What is wrong?
Where are you, ma douce? Please, come back to me.
I think I might cry. I haven't cried since I was a child. I didn't even cry when I realised what I had become. When I realised what had been taken from me all those centuries ago. But right here, right now, with this woman unconscious in my arms, I feel more human than I have felt in years. I cannot lose her now.
A shuddering breath escapes my lips, I bury my face in her hair and inhale.
“
Je suis ici, ma douce cherie. Venez à moi,
” I whisper again, against her ear.
“
I'm here, Michel.”
Oh for the love of God, thank you. I struggle to contain my tears. She is back. I pull her closer. It's hardly possible, she's been in my lap, crushed against my chest since I arrived twenty minutes ago. But somehow I manage to gather her petite frame nearer to my faltering heart. I kiss her head, through that glorious tousled hair, I open my mouth to whisper words of calm, to reassure her - or maybe myself - but all that I manage is a deep breath in. Savouring her scent.
Get a grip, I chide myself. This is Lucinda, she can handle a nest of vampyres, what ever has happened, she has returned. My vampyre-within disagrees.
Her throat clearing brings me back to the warm curves beneath my fingers, the beautiful, intoxicating scent of this woman before me. I gather my resolve and force myself to calm.
“Why are you here?” she asks, genuinely bemused.
Why am I here? Because I thought I had lost you, why else? Because you are my life and I cannot imagine a world without you by my side. Regardless of the joining, a world without you in it would simply not be... right. Because you are so precious to me the thought of you being in danger, harmed in any way, makes me lose my mind.
I mentally shake my head and attempt to act like the Master of the City should. “You disappeared on me, my dear. Left me stranded in your dream. I naturally wished to make sure you were OK.”
There, that wasn't too hard, was it?
“It wasn't on purpose." She sounds put-out. I stifle a laugh in response.
She
is put-out? Try seducing your lover in a dream and having them walk out on you.
I think I'm getting mad.
Then I register what she actually said. “What do you mean?”
She pushes away from me in a huff. God, she is adorable when she gets angry with me. I am tempted to anger her further, just to see what she does.
Her eyes rake over my face. That's right, take me all in. I am yours.
“
I got pulled into a Dream Walk.”
A Dream Walk. Now that is a little unusual. What has my little Hunter been up to? I cock my head and raise my brow to encourage her further, then think to hell with this. She is mine, I will have answers.
"Is there something you have not been telling me, Lucinda?”
“
Why would you say that?” she bites back, I keep the smile to myself. So feisty.
I find myself running a hand through my hair, I didn't even realise my hand was moving. But there it is, in my hair. She notices, so it wasn't a wasted gesture after all. I know she loves my hair.
What was she saying? Oh, yes. That's right. Concentrate. My little Hunter has been holding something back lately. I was not overly concerned, she prizes her independence so much. Little does she know there is no chance of escape now. She is mine and always will be. But, I could use the opportunity to force the issue.
“
Ma douce
. You are my kindred Nosferatin. Do you really believe I would not know when you are being secretive?”
She looks stunned. And, I regret, a little scared. That saddens me. What has made my Lucinda remain silent? Why does she fear me? Does she still not realise she is my life?
“I had hoped you would feel comfortable to come to me in time," I say softly. "Tell me what you had chosen to hide, when you were ready." She looks even more concerned now, I'm beginning to be annoyed she does not trust me. How can she not trust me? How can she be so blind to my love? "But this,” - I sweep my hand in an overly casual movement to indicate the scratches on her arms I have not missed since she returned - “is not something you should hide from me." And now for the moment of truth. "Tell me,
ma douce
, what has got you so scared you cannot share?”
I hold my breath as I watch emotions flick across her face. I brace myself for their onslaught. Fear, worry, disappointment, confusion. It breaks my heart. I feel what she feels, but I have no way of knowing if she feels this because of me. Or because of circumstances. Do
I
scare her? Is she worried about how
I
will react? Have
I
disappointed her? Is she confused about how
I
feel? I want to scream in frustration. Why is this so damn hard?
I reach over and take hold of her hand. I can't bear this alone. She makes me feel so much, I need her touch to ground me. My finger runs over the soft, warm, perfect flesh of her hand. I feel infinitely better already.
She starts talking, falteringly. “I can sense all the Nosferatu throughout the world." My heart leaps into my throat. "If I concentrate, I can feel their
Sanguis Vitam
, the level of evil or Dark within each." Oh,
mon dieu
, what does she feel when she looks at me? "Where they are, what they are doing. It's like a glowing map inside my head, beacons of light flashing, fighting for my attention." Oh, Lucinda. "I try to block it out and mostly that works, but when I sleep...” She doesn't say anything else. What is there to say? My poor, precious, little Hunter. How I wish I could make this all go away for you. How I wish to make your world safe.
She doesn't look at me. I can't bear this small separation. I pull her towards me and wrap her in my arms. I put as much of my feelings as I can in the movement, tell her through the care I hold her with, how important she is to me. I kiss her head, entwine my fingers in her glorious hair and rest her cheek above my heart. See here, my love, it beats only for you.
It shatters me that she has not confided this, but this is my Lucinda. Fiercely guards her heart. She doesn't know yet, she hasn't accepted it as truth, but her heart will be mine. Only one small doubt persists to taunt me.
“
I will not ask why you did not tell me this sooner,
ma douce
. You have your reasons. I will ask this though, what has Nero advised?” I hold my breath. Please God, hear my prayer.
She doesn't answer straight away and the longer she takes, the harder it is to hold on to any hope. I am scared. The Master of the City is afraid. I wait.
“I haven't told him,” she finally answers and angels weep with joy.
“
Do you think it may happen again,
ma douce
?” I ask and I'm not sure, but my voice sounds a little thick to my ears.
She sighs. “This was the first time it has made me Dream Walk when asleep. Usually, it just wakes me up and I'm aware of evil somewhere on the planet doing something not so nice and I can do nothing about it.” Her body quakes with a sudden shudder. I immediately start stroking her back, seeking to calm her. It's as natural to me as breathing is to her. I can't help trying to soothe her soul.
She has suffered this alone. Why? Because she does not trust me? I didn't realise my heart could hurt so.
“
I am sorry,
ma douce
. I had not noticed, you have hidden it well.” I am surprised my voice is level, inside I am a mess.
She pulls away from me and looks me in the eyes. I hide my reaction well. My vampyre has risen to the surface. He wishes to protect us from the pain.
“What could you have done?" she says and I pale. "What can anyone do?" I am not just anyone. "I don't know what to do with this knowledge, Michel." Let me help you. "I don't know how to stop being sucked into the evil that invades this world. I thought I had enough right here in Auckland to contend with, but now it seems I have to take on the world too." Her voice is getting softer, fear and pain laces the syllables of her words. My vampyre-within growls. "I don't know if I can do this. It's picked the wrong Nosferatin. I'm not strong enough for this.”
She is wrong. She is the strongest person, human or vampyre, that I have ever met. I think I'll tell her.
“You are the strongest, most capable human I have ever met. Do not ever forget that,
ma douce
. Do not.”
I can't help myself, I am a cad, she seeks reassurance, not seduction, but my body acts on its own, I reach out and stroke her cheek. So soft. So supple. My fingers linger on her jaw. My eyes are fixed to her lips. Dear God, let me be strong enough to act they way she needs me to. My vampyre threatens to explode. He has had enough, he wants to be fed.
I refuse to let him take over, but it is hard. Instead I am forced to compromise. Ha! Some compromise. I brush my lips against her own. Dear God, I am hard. I want her now. I struggle for control. My hand goes to her hair, I can't help it. I rest my palm at the back of her neck.
Yes
, my vampyre purrs. Then without further thought my head bends to meet her lips and I am lost.
Heaven rests in this woman's touch.
She pulls away. My world shatters.
Hell rests in her denial.
“I ended up in Rome just now, near the
Trevi Fountain
. My pull had taken me to a Nosferatin about to be killed by a vampire," I hear her say from some distance away. My vampyre is distracting me. It rages within.
I'm not entirely sure I have understood her words so I encourage her to continue. All I can manage is a lift of my eyebrows. It's enough, she goes on. My vampyre still storms within.
“His name was Gregor.” Even my vampyre goes still.
She takes a deep breath in, I envy her. “He has silver or grey eyes and a scar on the right side of his face, from his eye down his cheek.” My vampyre decides it best to retreat. He rarely retreats, but I no longer need him. I have enough anger and fear for us both.
She indicates where the scar is, but I don't need her display. I remember it without any visual aid. It was once as familiar as my own face.
“
The Nosferatin said he was the
Iunctio
in their area." I hear her words, but I am otherwise not there. "Their law. ...knew who I was ...what I was ...your kindred...” What? I am distracted by emotions.
I wait for my vampyre to rage, but he doesn't, he is watching me. He is waiting for me. For a moment I consider giving my vampyre what it craves. I am consumed in anger, but equally awash with fear. But I do not give in to my base desire. I will not scare her so.
“Did you stake him?” I manage in a reasonable impersonation of my voice. I'm not altogether sure what answer I wish to hear.
“
No. I didn't have any of my stakes and the Nosferatin had lost his.”
And just like that my vampyre-within is back. He screams inside my head,
No stake!
I know what he feels. I feel it too. Right now, my vampyre and I are one and the same.
She faced the Enforcer without a stake. Images of how it could have played out assault my mind. I have fought beside him. I know what he is capable of. How did she escape?
“What's wrong, Michel?” Her voice is so small, so tiny. I vaguely acknowledge magenta reflected back in her eyes. I am unable to stop it. I am unable to stop my fear.
Mon dieu
, I have not felt this emotion so intensely for so long. I fight to stay in control. My little Hunter, without a stake, against the greatest predator I have ever known. Why did he not kill her? Why?
And then it hits me. I feel the weight of the blow as though it has actually happened. My ribs ache, my chest can barely move. The world stops.
Images of a life long left behind assail my mind. I don't want to see them. I can do nothing to stop them. I am no longer in the room with Lucinda. I am reclining on a chaise watching Gregor.
He feeds from a blonde I have brought him. I watch. It is an attempt to give him something to distract. My donor has already left. I made sure she did not stay when he arrived. I have had her for several months now. She pleases in more ways than one. But, Gregor has noticed. He is not so inclined to feed from one human for so long. The attachment the human donors have, if fed from for more than a few meals at a time, is too great to break. I am weak. I covet something more permanent. I pretend that the addiction my donor feels is for me, not my bite.