Giver of Light (44 page)

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Authors: Nicola Claire

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban

BOOK: Giver of Light
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“You are divine, Nosferatin.” His face came away from my neck and took me all in, scanning my eyes, my cheeks, my jaw line, the rapidly beating pulse at the base of my neck.

I shifted against him, trying to find a weakness in his hold. Useless. Futile. A waste of friggin' time.

He smiled wickedly. “It is a shame I shall have to end your existence here. I cannot afford word of my exploits to reach the wrong ears.”

No, he couldn't. If the
Iunctio
found out, they would send their Enforcer after him. The
Iunctio
may not have been the good guys as such, but they liked their rules. This vampire was well outside of them tonight. But, at least, the fact that he wanted to kill me, meant my scent hadn't triggered a possessive, must-add-you-to-my-harem desire in the vamp. He wouldn't be hell bent on chasing me down because I smelt nice any time soon. That was of course, if I could away from him now.

The pain in my arm had escalated to an alarming degree, making it hard to think clearly and sweat begin to grace my skin, from head to toe. A sense of nauseous unease had also settled in my stomach, making me repeatedly swallow back bile in an effort to not up-chuck all over this guy's expensive outfit. Of course, as far as defensive manoeuvres go, perhaps it would have been a good one. Unexpected at any rate.

I needed to get out of this situation and fast. It would take a split second for this killer to pounce, I didn't get the impression he was in the mood to play with his meal. It would be lights out the moment he wished it so. Frantically trying to think of an out, I realised my only form of escape with a fractured arm and a powerful vampire sitting on my chest, was a Walk back down Dream Walking lane. I needed to get out of here and back to my body, in my house in St. Helier's Bay, Auckland.

I centred myself on my frantic heartbeat. It didn't bother me that it was fast, the repetitive sound of it was enough to meditate my way into a trance-like state, allowing my mind to fall back into the nothingness that leads me back to my body. Most vampires can't tell what I am attempting to do - well hell, if they can't see me it's pretty easy to pull it off - but this guy, was watching me intently. He may have had every intention of ridding the world of my existence, but he wasn't opposed to having a little play before he completed the deed.

I guess my scent was good enough to get mildly distracted by after all, even if it wasn't his drug of choice per se.

He shifted above me, not erotically, just to get a better hold of my fractured arm, to encase the rest of my body with his. To limit any avenue of escape. He inhaled my scent again and nuzzled my neck above my pulse, right over Michel's new mark. He may not have been getting off on holding me captive, well not in a sexual way, but he certainly was getting his fix for dominance and control tonight. He had decided to have a little fun before he finished me off completely. It's not the first time I have been faced with an aggressive vampire pinning me to the floor, so I did my best to ignore his movements, his low growl-come-purr as he satisfied the predator within and worked on settling my mind.

Of course, he figured out fairly quickly that I wasn't going to play the game, but then vampires have more in their arsenal than just good looks, quick wit and long fangs. His
Sanguis Vitam
washed over me in a delightfully delicate touch, so
not
what I was used to with a vampire, especially one riddled with Dark. It had a timeless quality to it, as though an eternity had been spent perfecting it, smoothing it, making it just right. Not too heavy handed, not too weak, just perfect. It wrapped around me and caressed my cheeks, my neck, down my back, making me still my movements and my heart leap into my throat, knowing what was coming next and dreading it. He growled low in appreciation of my response. You could just tell what he was thinking,
that's better, now we're cooking with gas.

I frantically tried to clear my head, to not show fear. I have some natural resistance to vampire mojo, they can certainly get the better of me if I'm not in top form, like when I have the distracting pain of a fractured arm, but I am a professional too. I blocked out the pain as best I could and then reinforced my shields. The longer he took to enjoy his game, the more time I had to sink back into the black nothingness of my mind. I offered up a whimper to keep him happy and then turned my attention solely on returning to my body.

It was hard, he was good. Not just the power of his
Sanguis Vitam
, but the skill in which he increased my fear, threatened to harm me further, squeezed my fractured arm with just enough pressure to remind me of what could happen, but not in fact follow through yet with the threat. And then he ran his fangs over the my flesh above my pulse in my neck, the implication obvious. I'd interrupted his meal tonight, he wanted compensation. He knew what he was doing, he knew exactly what would work, but he hadn't countered on the fact that I was already pretty angry when I was
called
here by my Dark Vampire
seeking
powers, or my role as the
Sanguis Vitam Cupitor
. I was actually pretty pissed off in fact, with vampire power plays and politics, not to mention mood changes and possessiveness. This vampire may have been strong, ancient and powerful, but he was a walk in the park compared to my kindred right now.

I pushed out everything he was doing, calling on all of my resources and any additional power I could find within and fell away into the void with frantic need, coming to on my bed, the shutters down for the day, blocking out what sunlight there may have been and the dim glow in my bedroom casting an eerie light across the room.

I had done it. I had escaped, but I hadn't saved the human. Nor the three glazed Norms watching from the wings. I groaned aloud at the thought of what the vampire would be doing to them now. He wouldn't show mercy, he'd proved his intent with the death of his first meal and now I had slipped through his fingers, he would be mad. The audience was as good as dead and I had failed.

Shit.

I took a deep breath in and sat up on my bed cradling my fractured arm and trying not to let the tears flow. I blinked them away frantically and when the room lost that blurry edge, was rewarded with a sight I had not expected. I just about hit the roof in surprise.

Michel sat in an armchair across from me, legs crossed, eyes glowing magenta in the dark, watching my every move. The fact that he was in my bedroom, the room I usually share with him, was not the surprise. The fact that he was here during daylight hours when he has been staying at
Sensations,
his club in the CBD, was.

Oh no. This was not going to be good.

“Lucinda. Would you kindly tell me what the hell it is you have been doing?”

Oh no. Not good at all.

 

Find more Nicola Claire books at:
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5831941.Nicola_Claire

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