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Authors: Nicola Claire

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

Forbidden Drink (36 page)

BOOK: Forbidden Drink
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Chapter 36
Dancing Dragons

Amisi and Erika had come home late and as I had been up all night with Michel, we all managed to sleep most the day away. It was close to 5pm when I ventured into the kitchen, after packing an overnight bag and getting myself showered and ready to face what was perhaps going to be the most awkward, or hard, or impossibly difficult 24 hours of my life. At least I would have my peeps with me.

Amisi was up, but Erika was nowhere in sight. Breakfast today, well it could be called dinner but we were only just getting started, was pancakes, bacon and maple syrup. I know for a fact that the vampire in the household would have found it painful to be around the delicious looking stack of sugar loaded goodness that sat in front of me. Just because you don't eat solid food any more, doesn't mean you can't pine after it.

“I bet Erika can smell this up in her room, she'll be getting jealous.” I stabbed a thick pile of dripping pancakes and shoved it in my mouth. Bliss.

“She'll be too busy. She brought Jett home with her last night.

My eyes bugged out, I was unable to speak because my mouth was so damn full, but Amisi got my meaning by my expression and just laughed.

“It was kind like watching you and Michel all night, but very much more public. Vampires have no shame.” I wasn't quite sure how much more public you could get than Michel and me, but I took her word for it. I also noticed that she didn't seem surprised. Amisi has grown up around vampires, she knows exactly what they are like and nothing surprises her.

“So, we're off to Wellington today. I can't wait to see what it's like.” She looked excited, like a kid about to open its Christmas present and see what Santa brought. I couldn't blame her, this could well be her new stomping ground. Amisi had already left her life behind in Cairo, I think, she was one of the most practical people I had ever met. There was already too many Nosferatins in Cairo, she knew she had to make her way elsewhere, why not Wellington?

“You think you could live surrounded by Kiwis, Amisi?”

She shot me a look that said it all,
purlease, what do you think?

I nodded and smiled, for some reason Amisi was more Kiwi than some of the kids I grew up with back home in Cambridge. More down to earth and approachable than the horse breeding snobs of rural Waikato. She fitted in like a well worn glove. As I watched her fluff about in the kitchen I couldn't help feeling that she was like a sister to me. Connected in more ways than just blood, although the fact that she is a Nosferatin does mean she has some of the same blood in her veins as I do. But she understood me, she understood the country I grew up in. Amisi would make a fine addition to New Zealand Nosferatin ranks. I only hoped that Gregor would accept her as his local vampire hunter and allow her to stay.

He didn't really have much choice. Wellington needed a Nosferatin and Nosferatins are thin on the ground. To have found such a well educated and accomplished Nosferatin at all, was simply a miracle of biblical proportions. If this worked, my life could become so much more simplified and finally, maybe something right could happen, instead of all the doom and gloom that seems to follow me around.

“You know, I would really like you to live here in NZ. You might be in a different city, but we would be able to meet up often, exchange ideas, work together. I really hope this works out, Amisi. I really don't want you to go back to Cairo.”

She looked at me a little strangely then, her eyes were shining bright, glistening in the downlights of the kitchen.

“Thank you, Lucinda. Thank you.” She bowed to me then, the formal fisted hand across chest bow. It took me by surprise. Amisi and I had well passed the formal stage, but then, she was a Nosferatin of regal standing. Sometimes I felt like the poor cousin, the country bumpkin around her. She could be so elegant, so refined and so perfectly part of this other world. Once again I was reminded of what I might have been like, had I been raised by my Nosferatin father. How much did I miss out on? Where would I be now if he was still alive?

I let my mind wander as Amisi turned back to her chores and I thought about what the world would be like with my father in it. I do think about my mother, but it's my father I wish for most. I got all the love and care I could ever have wanted from my mother's sister, my aunt, but what my biological father could have offered, none other can replace. Nero has filled a gap, for sure, but not like a father, more that of a friend and acquaintance. Imagine what I could have shared with my Dad. Michel, for starters. Michel had asked if I would introduce him to my Aunt and Uncle, I think he was just joking, they couldn't meet him, not really. To travel to their farm we would have to drive at night, they would have to meet him in the glow of the moon, we couldn't stay during the day, the farm house is not light tight. So, logistically speaking, I couldn't take him to meet my parents. Perhaps if they visited here, but they don't. They can't stand the city, they are farmers through and through.

But, my biological father, my Dad, he could have met Michel, he could have known what he was, there would have been no secrets. How nice that would be, not to have to hide who I am or what I am with my parent. How different my life would have been. I have managed to surround myself with people who I could confide in, people who are part of this world too. I have support and love and understanding, I just don't have that bond you would have with a parental figure who is also part of your vocational world. Imagine the tips and tricks he could have handed on. Imagine what I could have been with his tutelage and care.

I brushed an unwanted tear away and refused to let any others appear. It was all a dream, a wishful waste of time. He is dead, I am alone, save for those people I have picked up along the way to fill the gap, but it is never completely filled. It never will be, I think.

Erika and Jett walked into the kitchen then and saved me from my wasted dreams. I don't think I could have been happier to have seen them, they broke the hold of what-could-have-been, they snapped me free of my own empty yearnings and plunged me back into reality like a cold dip in an icy river. I needed it. Their timing couldn't have been better.

“So, you all packed,
chica
? Time to face the devil.” Erika did not like Gregor. I could hardly blame her, he had used his superior
Sanguis Vitam
on her to make her abandon me in his apartment. Her job had been to protect me from him, she had let me down, herself down and more importantly, Michel down. She despised Gregor now and I somehow thought he'd never be able to get the better of her again. Erika may not be as strong as Gregor, or as powerful, but she sure as hell could be as cunning. Gregor Morel was in for a load of crap from Erika Anders. She would not make his life easy.

I smiled back at her. “Bring it on!” I was aware they all knew it was just words. Inside I was a complete and utter mess, but I could act when needed and the next 24 hours may have to be the command performance of my life. I would draw on every lesson I had learnt in the face of vampires, pull every trick I had out of my sleeve and
never show fear. Never give an inch. Always stay on guard.

I am Nosferatin, hear me roar. Ha. I wish.

Nightfall came, with the help of the odd jab at Erika about her house guest's appearance to speed the last couple of hours of daylight along. Jett just plain ignored the girl talk, reading from Michel's tablet computer as though he owned the thing and as though we weren't commenting on Erika's choice of bed partner or her downright lustful look when she spied her man across any room. I'm sure he found it amusing, but he sat straight faced in the corner of the kitchen and pretended we didn't even exist.

I think Erika was relieved when the shutters whirred away, as she was the first out to the garage and started loading our gear into the back of the Land Rover. All four of us in my car was just not going to cut it. Jett was a big boy, I don't think he would have fitted.

The plane was out of the hangar, fuelled and ready to go. We boarded without delay and I was surprised to see Michel's manservant on board. He usually only attended when we had a long haul flight, Auckland to Wellington was hardly long haul. I was the last to board, and Michel's guy just about tripped over himself to greet me, quietly handing me a little box.

“From the master,” he whispered and went about his business of securing the door and making sure the rest of the passengers were seated and belted in for take off. I took a seat in an armchair at the back of the plane, out of sight of the others, providing an element of privacy.

I fingered the box. It was the size of a jewellery box I guess, white with a deep blue ribbon wrapped around it, slightly padded, so when you pressed it, a perfect dent was left which slowly filled in as the padding returned to its previous puffed up shape. I did that several times, watching as it slowly refilled, trying to build up confidence to open the damn thing. It's not like Michel hasn't tried to gift me things in the past. I've got a perfectly beautiful
Longines Dolce Vita
watch and a beautiful diamond encrusted bracelet hidden away in my lingerie drawer. I've never worn either. But, there was just something about the timing of this gift that made me believe it would be difficult to deny it, to pack it away between my lacy knickers and bras.

Was it so hard to accept a gift from the man I loved, I asked myself. I stared out the window for a while, watching the lights of Auckland drop away and grow smaller as the plane defied gravity and rose into the night air. Damn it, it probably wasn't even jewellery. The key to his chamber? A new fighting tool of microscopic proportions? Shit. Just open the damn thing and get it over with.

I ripped the ribbon off and snapped the lid open before I could think further about it. What stared out at me stole my breath away. His dancing dragon. A beautiful platinum dancing dragon, with bright blue gemstones for eyes. I was guessing blue diamonds, they didn't look right for a sapphire, the sparkle just too intense. The dragon also had a bolt of lightning through its heart, made up of smaller white diamonds, making the lightning bolt shimmer as though alive. I lifted it up out of the box with shaking fingers. It was suspended on a long fine platinum chain, it felt heavy in my hands and the thought of the delicate links in the chain being able to hold its weight briefly surprised me. It was a solid piece of artwork, beautiful and undeniably stunning. I loved it. But, could I wear it?

I ran my fingers over and over the dragon, the metal becoming warm under my touch. I quickly tipped the box upside down to see if there was a note, but nothing else came tumbling out. Just the necklace. I don't really think it needed an explanation. Its beauty spoke for itself.

I stared at it for a few more minutes and then thought, to hell with this. It was beautiful. It was him. And me. It was perfect. I slipped the long chain over my neck and watched as the dragon slid down my chest to rest between my breasts. I had to smile, he had even worked out the exact length for it nestle where he himself would no doubt love to be.

Thank you,
I heard in my mind, his voice so soft, so beautiful.

I smiled and held the dragon tight, closing my eyes and letting him see just how much I loved him, from the images I played in my head.

After a while I heard a soft clearing of someone's throat at my side, I opened my eyes and Michel's servant was standing with a small tray, the gorgeous smell of coffee wafted up to meet me with a plate of delicious looking biscuits on the side. James, the thought popped in my head. Whether that was Michel reminding me, or it just came flooding back from previous journeys on the plane with him taking care of us, I'm not sure, but the guy's name was James.

“Thank you, James," I said as he placed the tray on a side table for me. His eyes flashed when he smiled.

“My pleasure, madam.” He slipped away as quietly as he had appeared and left me to my thoughts and the blissful taste of freshly ground and brewed coffee accompanied by chocolate biscuits to die for. I felt loved and cared for and precious to someone and it eased my soul, relaxed my body and let me calm before the storm hit and all hell would no doubt break loose.

We started our descent into Wellington not long after and before we had to belt ourselves in for landing, I moved out to the main area and joined the others. Enough of hiding, time to get together and face this as one. Erika's eyes flicked over the dragon and she smiled, Amisi squealed as she reached for a closer look and Jett just read the
Herald
, this time in paper form.

“That is truly beautiful, Luce. What does the dragon mean?” Amisi asked fingering the pendant.

“You know, I'm not sure, it's just Michel. It's here on his plane, at his chamber in
Sensations
, he wears it on his clothes sometimes. I just associate it with him.”

“It's his crest,” Erika offered. “His family crest.”

I didn't know he had one, he wasn't of noble blood, just a peasant from a village in France. Did they all have family crests over there?

Erika must have picked up on the confusion on my face because she added, “It was the crest of his village, where he originally came from in France. When he was turned and had to leave his home forever, he chose the crest as his own, as a reminder of what he had lost and what he had to honour. It is now the Durand line's crest. For him to gift it to you, such as this, he is offering you everything he stands for. His past, his present, his future. It is a meaningful gift, not just a token of love.”

BOOK: Forbidden Drink
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