Giver of Light (14 page)

Amisi slid into her seat a few seconds later, followed by Erika.

“This is beautiful, Amisi, just like Mum's.” I had almost finished the entire plate and still felt hungry. “Is there more?” I asked hopefully. Amisi beamed at me from across the table, but it was Michel who stood and took my plate, piling it high with food and returning it to me.

As soon as I started eating again, his arm draped back around me casually and he settled in to watch me eat. It felt familiar, comfortable and very right. Little by little, I felt myself coming back. Not all of my memories, not yet, but enough to make me know with a certainty, that Michel was mine and I was his. And there was nowhere else I'd rather be.

I seemed just as hungry as when Amisi had piled that first plate high. I knew I shouldn't be eating too much, after having such a long period of time with so little in my stomach, but I couldn't help it. It tasted so good. It tasted of home. Images of my parents' farm flashed through my mind. I embraced them. These were deep seated memories. Hidden away due to the drugs and a part of me wondered, if also due to self preservation. I always felt refreshed when I visited my parents farm, recharged, ready to face the world again. Whether it was in person or in my mind. Or in the dreams Michel created. I smiled to myself as the memories, the make-up of my mind, of me, kept tumbling back in.

All through these magical flashes of my past, my life, the girls chatted away merrily and Michel simply watched me, a look of utter contentment on his face. A man full of relief and happiness. And just for a moment, the worries of revenge and the politics of vampiredom were absent from his features. In their place was a young man, full of life. In that second of seeing such natural beauty in the man that I loved, I realised Michel was so much closer to the Light than he had ever been. Despite what we had been through, despite what lay ahead. I helped Michel toward the Light. Just as he helped me back from the Dark.

His fingers started playing softly with my hair on the collar of my robe. I don't think he even realised what he was doing. It wasn't sexual, it was full of comfort and love, but Erika's eyes fixed on the movement and a smirk graced her porcelain face.

“Oh pur-lease. We don't need to see all of your sordid moves from the bedroom at the dining room table.”

Playing along with what she thought was just a joke, a moment of lightening the day from the recent memories of such Dark, Amisi added, “She's not been back 24 hours and already we have to deal with them unable to keep their hands off each other. Just wait another day and the heavy petting will have moved to the couch. Again.” I had a sudden memory flash before my eyes which made me blush furiously and caused Michel to enter the banter.

I think he chose to humour Amisi, but the look he cast Erika, so very quickly it was almost missed, let her know she had overstepped the mark. “Girls, girls, please. You are just jealous that you do not have a kindred as irresistible as mine.” Michel leant over and took my chin in his hand then proceeded to kiss me with a slow, languid brush of his lips.

“Oh for God's sake, Michel, you're as bad as a teenager, control yourself,” Erika chastised, ignoring the look he had flashed her before. I could remember Erika teasing Michel in the past. I knew she, more than any other vampire in his line, was game enough to push his buttons. I couldn't remember specifics, but maybe this was always how it was.

“Not likely,” Amisi added. “He's on a roll.”

I listened to the teasing banter go back and forth for a while between the three of them. The more it continued and the more Michel entertained it, the calmer I got. The calmer Michel became as well. The only other sound in the house was the whir of the shutters retracting for the night. It turned into gentle ribbing and mock teasing and all of a sudden felt very familiar indeed. This
is
what they always did. I had misinterpreted Erika's initial remark. It was all a tease and Michel just played along, helping to lighten the moment. He gave as good as he got, if not more. The man had no shame and clearly loved anyone at all knowing how much he loved me. It made me smile, despite the embarrassment of being the centre of everyone's attention. This felt right, it felt like home. Michel relaxed even further next to me, probably receiving all of my thoughts. Even that didn't feel wrong anymore. I felt like I was back to normal, almost. Maybe it would all be OK in the end. Surely there were only a few more memories to come back, nothing too monumental. I could do this. With these guys around me, I could do anything.

Just then Amisi pushed her plate away and sighed. “Duty calls,” she said, getting up from the table. “You want to come along, Erika?”

“Sure thing,
chica
, wouldn't miss it for the world.”

“What duty?” I asked sitting up straighter in my chair.

Amisi shot a surprised look at Michel, I didn't catch his response, I was too busy looking at her.

“The, ah... the pull. I feel it. Don't you?”

The pull. The evil-lurks-in-my-city pull, the one I was born to feel, born to respond to.

And I couldn't feel a thing.

“24 hours,
ma douce
. That is all.” Michel was consoling me at the dining table. Erika and Amisi had just headed out the door towards that pull. The pull I couldn't feel.

“The drugs are almost out of your system, I could only taste a trace before, by tomorrow you will remember more. I am sure.”

He was sure. I wasn't. The pull was part of my make-up, a gift from Nut. It wasn't just a skill I had learnt or acquired, it was in me, a part of me since birth. There should have been no way I wasn't connected to it. Never before had I failed to recognise when an innocent was being threatened by the Dark. Part of me knew the logical explanation was the drugs, or what was still left of them inside me, but a more petulant part, a more angry and disillusioned part, thought perhaps Nut had forsaken me. Perhaps this was not reversible, correctable, or fix-able.

I stood up and started pacing across the tiled floor of the kitchen, thankfully it's fairly large, so I got a good three or four paces in before having to turn around and go back the way I came. A round trip lasted about four seconds, I was pacing pretty quickly. Michel just leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankles, watching me. He didn't say anything else, he could hear my thoughts just fine.

If I didn't get a handle on this anger I thought I might just explode. It felt as though my skin was stretched tight all over me and that everything inside was expanding and expanding and soon there would be nowhere left for the anger and hurt and fear and disillusionment to go, but out. I clenched my fists and kept on pacing. I needed a plan. I was good at plans. A plan had got me out of that house. OK, it had got derailed along the way, but when I was ready to come back to it, it was there and it got me out. So, I just needed to think of a way to end this constant tightness in my chest, tightness in my head, tightness in my heart. Everything was so tight I could hardly breathe. I was smothering myself, I was going to drown in all this negative emotion. Drown in all the blood.

“
Ma douce
, you are glowing. Take a breath.” Michel's soft voice sounded so far away, although he was just standing not six feet across the room from me.

I looked down at my body and noticed it was indeed glowing, a bright, stunning white light. Shit. I couldn't even control my Light, another example of how fucked up I was.

Michel walked over to where I had stopped pacing, slap bang in the middle of the kitchen, which now was bathed in an ever increasing bright, white light. We didn't need the overheads on, I was providing enough illumination for the whole friggin' house. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me against his chest. At first I resisted, I was too wound up to relax in his hold, but he was strong and persistent, he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

We struggled together for a moment, him trying to pull me closer, but also not hurt me in the process, me trying to pull away and remain rigid in my anger and fear. Michel won. As soon as I capitulated and collapsed against his chest my glow slowly began to ebb away. It took several seconds, Michel constantly stroking my back, rubbing circles in a slow methodical manner, almost in time to his heartbeat, which hadn't risen at all, unlike mine.

After a while the room returned to its normal night time light levels; halogen assisted, not Nosferatin.

“You do not have to do this alone, Lucinda. I can help, if you will let me.”

I didn't say anything, I felt so tired again. I may have recovered remarkably well in such a short amount of time, no more bruises or scratches on the outside, but on the inside I was still so run down. One meal, albeit an extremely large one and several hours with my kindred, was not enough to fully replenish my energy levels. I needed rest, even though all I really wanted to do was chase that bastard vampire down and run my stake right through his heart.

Michel sighed. “We have not been able to locate the house, although I have my and Enrique's men searching. From your description,” - I hadn't actually given a description, but I was guessing Michel had managed to get one from my thoughts - “it should have been relatively easy to find, but it must be warded significantly and beyond our detection. We will find it, or he will make a move to come here. Sooner or later, he will suspect that we have you back with us. I cannot imagine he will give you up so easily. He will retaliate. And we are ready.”

We are ready.
I'd like to think I was too, but until I had full use of my powers, all my memories back where they should be, I was more a liability than an asset. And didn't I just love that thought?

“There is time. By tomorrow, you may well be... whole again.” I was guessing he was having trouble picking his words, even the use of
whole
made me cringe. “In the meantime, there is nothing to be done, even I am not meeting with my kin today. One more day and we will plan and then execute our revenge.”

He spoke so calmly of revenge and I had the feeling that previously I may not have been so comfortable with the notion, but now, I needed to hear his resolve, his determination to do just that. Avenge the wrong against me. I didn't want karmic discussions on how Jonathan would get his comeuppance eventually, I wanted Michel to use his formidable strength and power to back me on this, without question, without pause.

I thought again,
what have I become?
Who am I?
If there was a way to talk to Nut I would have, a little divine guidance right now wouldn't go astray. But, I was on my own, well, not entirely, I had a very pissed off and powerful kindred vampire on my side. Things could be worse.

I pulled back and managed a small smile at Michel. He leaned down and kissed my forehead softly, then rested his head against the same spot. The feeling of familiarity washed over me again, this was one of Michel's favourite positions, arms wrapped around me, forehead to forehead, his warm breath washing over my face. He inhaled deeply and I knew he was taking in my scent, savouring the candied apples, sunshine, honey and spring that is my signature. To a vampire there can be nothing more personal than someone's scent.

“I have missed you so much,
ma douce
.” There was an ache so deep within his voice it broke my heart to hear.

I reached up and stroked his face, pulling back to look him in the eyes. That beautiful mix of violet, amethyst and indigo had taken up residence again, I didn't think I could ever get enough of seeing that colour combination. I stood up on the tip of my toes and kissed him lightly on the lips, just once, then pulled away. His mouth had opened slightly, his eyelids becoming heavy, I couldn't help it, I had to kiss him again. This time I didn't stop, letting my tongue slide in between his open teeth, working it around his own tongue and receiving a satisfying groan in response.

He responded, for a moment, maybe two, then pulled the kiss back from the brink and made it more delicate, more gentle, no hint of what else could occur if we let our bodies take over. Part of me was surprised and a little annoyed. I couldn't help feeling attracted to this man. But a bigger part of me was just so relieved. I was tired, exhausted, and right now what I needed was his support and care and love, with no pressure of having to give anything else in return.

It was selfish and normally I wouldn't have tolerated it, I think. But right now I allowed myself the luxury of thinking of only me. My needs, my road to recovery. Michel had said he would get stronger simply by being near me, that was true also for me. Sure, he would need to feed off me again and probably sooner rather than later. But already he was looking almost healed, whole. Me, not so much. I needed his arms around my body, his face resting against my hair and neck, his breath coating me in warmth and love. I needed him this way. And although Michel was still in the throes of battling his vampire's need to claim me, he was winning, because his arms gently enfolded me, his face nestled into my neck and he sighed, a contented sound, hot against my flesh.

His strength at being able to battle his vampire-within astounded me. Right now when he was not at his best physically, emotionally and psychologically, he was still able to control the claiming. There were times when I was so very glad to see him lose control and succumb to the claiming, but now was not one of them. And once again, Michel was showing me how very much he was in tune with me, with my needs and wants and desires.

Michel was perfect. There was no other word for it. He completed me in every possible way.

He started chuckling softly against me, his chest rising and falling beneath my own.

"Hey!" I protested. "Are you laughing at me?"

"I have
never
been called perfect before,
ma douce
. If only you knew what was going through my mind right now, having you back in my arms. You would not think me so perfect."

Oh, but he was wrong. The thought that he still wanted me, still fantasied about being with me, but was still able to fight the claiming his vampire had subjected him to, proved beyond a doubt in my mind that he was perfect. I was sure, once I was physically well again, that I would gladly welcome back his vampire's urge to claim me. But right now, what I needed was comfort and sleep.

"Very well, my love." He swung me up in his arms and carried me from the room. As he lay me gently down on the bed, he whispered against my neck, "Sleep,
ma douce
. And know that I love you, need you and will always desire you. Sleep."

I didn't need to be told twice, I was asleep before he'd managed to pull the duvet over us, the sound of his steady heartbeat thrumming through his chest and into my ears, so very comforting.

I dreamt of Jonathan, not a wanted dream, not a happy dream at all. I could see his face when he was trying to punish me, his anger and determination to make me pay for trying to escape. I could feel his need to taste my blood again. His face broke into a grin as he held me down on the floor, his fangs obvious as they peeked out past his curved lips. He ran his tongue over one fang slowly, growling in pleasure when I shuddered beneath him in fear.

I tried to fight back, but my arms wouldn't do what I asked them to do, my legs felt like dead weights, unresponsive, as though they weren't even there. He felt so heavy, so hard against me, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't scream, I couldn't move. I was useless, I was pathetic. I knew he would start hitting me, scratching me, hurting me and I was just going to let him do this, it was all my fault. His eyes sprang open and he held me in his glaze. I knew it was a glaze, the amber and ochre in them turning to a more malevolent maroon and bitter-sweet burgundy, showing the red that vampires need when they glaze.

“You are mine, Lucinda. I will have you again. You cannot escape me and you will pay for your disrespect.” His hands held my arms above my head rigidly still. “Say it,” he purred, as the maroon and burgundy swirled in his eyes, still holding me captive. “Say you are mine.”

I fought it, I really did. I have a certain amount of natural resistance to a vampire glaze, but he is strong and I was still so weak.

“Say it!” he ordered, his voice wrapping around me and pulling me towards him. I felt my head leave the floor, my body strain against his hold on my arms, trying to lift my face to whisper the words against his ear. “Say it!” he ordered again, banging my hands back against the floor, making the bones in my wrists rub against each other as he held them so tightly, shooting stabs of pain down my arms. “Say it,” he whispered against my lips.

“I am yours.” The words were uttered by me, but they didn't sound at all like my voice. My mind was screaming
no
, the words said otherwise. His lips peeled back triumphantly in a mockery of a smile and I just felt sick, sick to my stomach. And then I froze, as hot breath from his mouth trailed across my cheek, over my jaw and down my neck, until his fangs bit into my pulse and my blood poured down his throat.

It was the bathroom door slamming open against the wall of the bedroom that woke me and broke the spell. Michel's weight as he landed on the bed beside me, his wet arms and body lifting me up off the sweat soaked sheets and his words - full of curses spilling out his mouth, as he cradled me - filling the night air and waking me up fully.

“That fucking bastard! I am going to take great pleasure in killing him slowly and very painfully,” Michel managed to get out between clenched teeth.

“Get in line,” I muttered and then promptly threw up two courses of roast lamb and vegetables all over my kindred and the bed. “Ah, crap.”

Once the vomiting stopped and the world steadied again, Michel carried me to the bathroom and stepped under the still running shower with me in his arms. I could barely stand, but he held me firmly, letting the water wash all the regurgitated gunk off of us both and then starting to soap my body up with the utmost care. His jaw was rigid, his lips in a thin line, his eyes flashing magenta - and only magenta. Man, he was fuming.

I couldn't blame him, not only was he pissed off at Jonathan invading and manipulating my dreams, but I was betting he was pissed off at himself for leaving my side, even briefly to shower. No doubt thinking had he been with me in bed, he would have picked up on the dream sooner and stopped it. Of course, I didn't blame him, at all. All blame was going squarely on Jonathan's shoulders and no one else's.