Kindred (Kindred, Book 1) (10 page)

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Authors: Nicola Claire

BOOK: Kindred (Kindred, Book 1)
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Michel took a step towards us and I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. I let a whimper out involuntarily, but neither vampire noticed, too wrapped up in the power play that was unfolding between them. Blue and indigo swirled with purple and red in those eyes across from me. I had never seen Michel like this before. Was I scared? Shitless. But, I also felt an undeniable pull towards the vampire who stood outlined in the door to the room.

Suddenly, as soon as I acknowledged in my mind that pull, I felt I could move. I struggled against the arm that held me in a vice-like grip. The movement momentarily distracted Max and Michel pounced.

It wasn't so much a pounce, as the flight of a dangerous animal leaping through the air. His fangs were down, I hadn't even seen them move. A feral look crossed his beautiful face, but far from detracting from its stark beauty, it seemed to make it even more frighteningly incredible. My eyes were fixated on the being that hurtled through the room towards us, everything seemed to slow down, but yet was happening in lightning quick speed.

Max flung me from his grip to face his attacker without hindrance. I sailed through the air and crashed into a side table in the corner, the lamp splintering against the wall above me and shards of glass raining down to scratch at my face and arms. The air was pushed from my lungs by the impact and I struggled to breathe.

In the middle of the room the two vampires were a blur of intense light. Bright yellows and blues, greens and reds, all swirling together in a hazy ball of energy. I could feel it, I could taste, I could hear it. But I could do nothing to stop it. I was sure that this was the night I would die. It was inevitable, I could see no end to this, so evenly matched were these two master vampires. They would destroy themselves and take me with them.

Suddenly the ball of energy burst and Michel was thrown through the wall into the next room. Plasterboard shattered, chairs and a book case went flying, until he came down in a heap at the far end of the next room.

Max was already on me, lifting me up like a rag doll and bringing his face towards my neck. His fangs were out and his head was cocked, ready to go in for the kill. My whimpering had started again, I couldn't help it. His grip on me so tight I felt his fingernails breaking skin and blood starting to trickle down my wrist. His eyes glowed that horrible green and red, his face was contorted in a ghastly grimace of anger. His lips brushed the side of my neck and I felt his fangs pierce the skin.

I screamed.

Then, all I felt was air beneath me as I fell, again, towards the couch on the other side of the room. At least it was a couch and not the table, I thought briefly, before hitting its solid mass and realising that it probably made no difference at all. My body broke the back of the couch and wood from the frame sliced through my side. I grunted as I came to rest on my side against the far wall. I reached down to just above my left hip to staunch the flow of blood that had started there.

You see, the thing is, when vampires fight each other, there are always human casualties. If you happen to be in the vicinity of where a vampire looses his rag, then it's lights-out baby. They are a tornado at best, a supernatural one and a combination of a volcano and earthquake at worst. Their power electrifies the air, their energy can pierce human skin. Forget about your mind being squashed by all that controlled fury, your body won't stand up against the physical onslaught of their combined assault.

There are always casualties when vampires fight. Just my luck I was the only human in this building with two master vampires out for the kill.

Michel and Max were circling each other now. The
Sanguis Vitam
hadn't abated, but they had slowed down their pursuit of each other's throats. It was like watching an intricate dance, deadly but compelling.


You think you can beat me, Durand?” He said Michel's surname like it was a particularly distasteful piece of food. “You know you cannot. You are not strong enough.”

Michel smiled, a cunning, knowing smile. “Ah, but it has been a long time since we last sparred, Maximilian. Time for my powers to grow, unnoticed.”

Far from looking fazed, Max just shrugged. “I do not feel it, my old friend.”


Then you have not been paying attention.”

The air began to hum with elevated power and Michel started glowing, like the first time I laid eyes on him at the bank that storm covered day. The humming escalated to a crescendo in my mind, the power crashed against my chest in a crushing wave. I felt pinned against the wall, unable to move or breathe. Lights had started to flash before my eyes, but I couldn't tell if it was to do with the battle which had resumed in front of me, or the fact that I couldn't draw breath. Or maybe it was due to the blood loss that I had suffered. The pool of blood at my side was startlingly large.

I couldn't see what was happening, but I could hear it and feel it. The sound was deafening, the whole of central Auckland would have heard it. It was a combination of jet engines whirring and metal screeching, along with trees breaking and thunder booming. There was no longer any witty repartee between the two vampires, it was all a physical onslaught and I couldn't see who was winning. If there was going to be a winner at all.

At last, after what felt like an hour, but was probably only a mere few seconds, the crescendo of noise reached its pinnacle. A blinding light filled the air and everything froze. And I mean everything. Particles of dust hung in the air like magic, fragments of furniture were suspended in their fall towards the floor. There was no sound, no hum, nothing. Just a void.

The last thing I remember, before darkness completely enveloped me, was the shadow of a man standing over me. No features were discernible, just the outline of a large and imposing figure.

I didn't wake with a start, it was more of a gradual thing. At first I could sense movement, like the slow rock of a boat, or the feel of tyres rolling over a road and also the sensation of warmth around me. It blanketed me, cosseted me and then I felt a chest rising and falling against my head. Heard the heartbeat, steady and constant. The sound of a car engine, an indicator ticking. I opened my eyes slowly, blinking in the dark that surrounded me, registering the low glow of lights from the front of the car's dashboard, the occasional headlight beam sweeping past of oncoming traffic.

There was just enough ambient light to make out whose arms I was being cradled in. Whose chest my head rested against.


Michel.” It was a whisper, but he heard it.


You are awake,
ma douce
.” A statement. His eyes held a strange look, one I hadn't seen before. Was it relief? It was gone before I could fully register it. “We are almost there, my dear. Rest now, you are safe.”

And with that the darkness enveloped me again, this time with a blissful sense of safety and warmth.

The next time I awoke I was in a bed. A large four poster bed with white gauze curtains hanging loosely at the corners, tied back by a pale blue band of satin. The mattress was deep and moulded to my body, the covers thick and luxuriant, in a deep navy damask which matched the curtains on the floor length windows to my right. They were closed.

I gingerly sat up in bed and momentarily felt the world tilt. I took a breath to steady myself and waited for the sensation to pass. Slowly, the world righted and I swung my bare legs over the side of the bed. I was in a night shirt; white cotton, loose and down to just above my knees. I had nothing on underneath. This made me blush slightly for some reason. I had no idea how I had got here. I had no idea where
here
was.

I stood up and walked over toward the curtains. Surprisingly, I didn't hurt anywhere. I reached for my left side and only felt smooth skin beneath the fabric of the nightdress. I quickly grabbed the hem of the shirt and lifted it to see pale and unblemished skin. Michel, no doubt. I guess I'd have to thank him.

I was just reaching for the curtains when the door opened and a woman walked in. She was greying and slightly plump, maybe 60 or 65 years old. She was human. She glanced up and smiled.


You're out of bed? Fantastic, the Master will be pleased.” She had a slight English accent. Maybe from Kent, I'm not sure. But it was friendly and I immediately liked it.


You must be hungry. Shower first and dinner afterwards I think,” she said as she went to another door, I hadn't noticed, to the left.


Dinner? What time is it?” My throat was dry and my voice came out in a rasp. I tried not to cough. The woman rushed over and handed me a glass of water from the bedside table.


There, there, child. You've had a busy night. You were in quite a state when the Master brought you in.”

I took the glass and swallowed the cool water down, instantly I felt relief. She took it from my hands and returned it to the table. “It's seven in the evening. The Master will be rising soon.”

I must have slept the whole day. A whole friggin' day. Whoa. The woman bustled me towards the bathroom and handed me some fresh clothes from inside the door. “Have a nice hot shower and then come down to us. We'll be in the den, no doubt, third door on the right at the bottom of the stairs.” With that she was gone.

I showered quickly, I didn't feel entirely safe to be caught in the nude in a strange bathroom and dressed in the borrowed clothes. Tan skirt and white blouse not my normal attire, but it would do. The house, I discovered, was modern. The banister of the stairway a sleek metal, the flooring a pale polished wood. Artwork adorned the walls of the stairwell. Jazz prints in gold frames; a saxophone, keyboard, bass and clarinet. The gold frames looked subtle against the cream of the painted walls.

It had a surprisingly airy feeling to it, not the sort of place you'd think a vampire would be comfortable. The windows in the bedroom had heavy drapes, but those on the landing and now downstairs, were just big expanses of glass. The view was spectacular, despite it already being dark.  Lights of a town, I didn't know where, sparkled across an expanse of water. A lake perhaps? The lights were a magical orange colour, so delightful in the distance.

I counted the doors and entered on the third. Michel was reclining on an overstuffed couch. He was casually dressed in black trousers, but had on an open-neck light blue shirt. It would have matched his eyes, when they chose to display a paler shade, had they been open. Instead he had his hand resting on his forehead, as though he was suffering from a headache. The woman was sitting reading in an armchair off to the side, she looked up and smiled as I walked in. There was an older man standing by the large unadorned windows talking to Bruno softly. No doubt the woman's husband. They both turned as well. The man smiled, Bruno just nodded.

“Lucinda.” His voice was so soft, curling around me, pulling me to him, irresistible and lush. Deep blue eyes met mine. I don't know what people, or vampires, see when they look at me. I'm not very tall, 5'4”, not that pretty. I'm trim and athletic, I like to keep fit and being short you need to work at it. I have shoulder length mousy brown hair. It shines and is dead straight, but that's about the only saving grace. It's a bit thin, I think. I would have liked something a bit thicker, but we take what we're given. I do have good skin though, lightly tanned, never really worried about pimples or the like when I was a teenager. Must have been all that clean farm air growing up. But, looking at Michel's face right now, I could have sworn he saw something, someone, different from what I do. There was a look of utter  longing in his eyes, it almost bowled me over.

He recovered himself, it seemed reluctantly and motioned to the seat beside him on the couch. Despite having had practically a whole night and day's sleep, I was too tired to fight him right now. It wasn't really a physical exhaustion, more an emotional and mental one. If I was honest with myself, I was tired of pushing him away. I knew that would change though. You couldn't keep a good girl down for long.

The couch faced the window where the older man and Bruno stood. I could see the twinkly orange lights in the distance, the reflection of them coming back towards us on the still waters of the lake.

I sat down, as far as I could away from Michel. Habit.

“Where are we?”

Michel placed his arm along the back of the couch towards me. Despite having sat down as far away as possible from him, he took up an awful lot of that couch. His hand was able to pick up a strand of my hair and play with it in his fingers. Oh boy.

“My holiday home in Taupo.”

I laughed, I couldn't help it. “You fly-fish?”

He chuckled too. “There is more to Taupo than the Trout, my dear.” And he swept his other arm out to indicate the view from the windows. “Sometimes I need a break from the city and I come here. Kathleen and Matthew take care of it when I am city bound.”

Kathleen, the woman who had checked on me in the bedroom, shuffled forward in her seat and stood up stiffly, as though she had aching bones. “Time for some dinner, I think.” She smiled and left the room.

“What happened?” I glanced at Michel, he was watching me, leaning back on the sofa, quite relaxed. “Is...” I swallowed, “Is Max still alive?” I know technically vampires are meant to be the undead, so
not
alive, but with the really old ones, like Michel, they can make themselves seem just as alive as you and me. Heartbeats, breathing, blinking, they can even keep their body temperature close to normal. Easier when they have fed, but not impossible when hungry either. Asking if a vamp is
dead
dead, just doesn't sound right, so I don't bother anymore. I think Michel kind of likes that. The appearing more human thing again I'm guessing.

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