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Authors: Nicola Claire

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

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BOOK: Forbidden Drink
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“I'm to be your trainer.” Erika smiled at me as she said it, as though this should have been the best news I'd had all week. Not hard, considering the week I'd had, but still.

“I already have a trainer.”

“A Nosferatin trainer who can teach you how to kill vampires. I think your troubles have increased a little from just the solitary night time fanged variety. Or so I hear.”

“You mean the Taniwhas?”

She nodded. “Silver will harm them, but getting a stake anywhere near them may prove fatal to you. Somehow I don't think Michel would go for that.” She flicked a smile at Michel and winked. Actually winked. I don't think I'd seen anyone wink at Michel before.

He shook his head in admonishment and turned more towards me. “Erika is my Sword, among other things, but she has been recalled here to me to help train you. I think it is time for you to expand your weapon base. A sword will have a far greater chance against the Taniwhas, than your usual arsenal and let us not forget the multitudes of vampires currently on their way now.”

No, how could we forget those? As we were flying back from Paris last week I received another Nosferatin power. Although calling this a power would mean it would help me in some way, but from what I can tell so far, it's not going to help, but hinder. I am the
Sanguis Vitam Cupitor
or Blood Life Seeker, which basically means I can
seek
out all the Dark or evil vampires in the world and see where they are, what they're doing and how many there happen to be. Now, with this new power, they can suddenly
see
me. And the sense I got when they realised this, was that they wanted to meet me in person, fang to face.

Nero has not been helpful in unravelling this new mystery. At first he seemed surprised, shocked even, but now he just avoids talking about it at all cost. I don't know what he's hiding, but I trust Nero implicitly. I'll wait until he's ready to divulge, but in the meantime, I keep a constant tab on those Dark vampires, almost
seeking
every few hours or so, just to see how close they have come. Right now, they're reticent, unsure what will happen when they do come, but I feel their need, I feel their hunger. They
will
come. It's just a matter of time. And when they do, I need to be ready. Maybe carrying a sword would not be a bad thing after all.

“So, you just gave up your life in America and came
home
to your master?” I'd turned back to Erika. I wanted to know how happy she was about this new environmental change in her life. How happy she was to be training me.

She shrugged, another elegant movement that only vampires can seem to master. “He calls, I come running. It's just how it is.”

“It doesn't bother you?” Michel was staying very quiet through all of this, just sipping his wine, stroking my neck. Damn, but if he couldn't be casual when the shit might be hitting the fan.

“I would rather be serving here than in America. They are different from us, they are fiercer and yet more controlled. The families are run like an American gangster movie. The punishment for disobedience, of any kind, is fatal.”

“Not something our Erika can tolerate with ease,” Michel decided to add.

She smiled crookedly at him. “No. I have trouble with toe-ing the line sometimes, but I know my place.” Then she shook her head. “But America, it's different. Even I was scared.”

“How long had you been there?” Me again.

“Ten years.”

Wow. Ten years and just like that she's called home and comes running. I shook my head, I just didn't get vampires sometimes.

Erika leaned forward over the table towards me, registering my confusion. “It's not just that he commands, Lucinda, it's that we
want
to serve him. It's the blood bond, there is nowhere I would rather be than near my master and serving a purpose he needs.”

I turned to Michel. “And this doesn't seem creepy to you? Not allowing them to have a choice?”

He stopped stroking my neck and just looked at me. “We are vampyre, my dear.”

Nothing else, just that.

Even after all of this time, even after practically living with him for the past two months, I still didn't really understand them.

I suppressed a shiver. “Well, I'm glad I'm not a vampire then.”

“So am I,” Michel whispered.

Chapter 4
Shall We Dance?

That did it for my appetite though, I pushed the remaining crackers and cheese aside and folded my arms across my chest. OK. So, it might have been a bit petulant, but still,
call and come running
just didn't sit well with me. Especially for this vivacious, smart mouthed blonde vamp, who seemed to be able to tease Michel and hold her own on equal footing. I suddenly felt like she needed protection from him. Somehow, I think she would have disagreed.

Michel laughed quietly, he could read me like a book.

“I think it might be time to demonstrate to my kindred just how capable you are, Erika and therefore how important you are to me.” He paused long enough for me to unfold my arms and turn to look at him

“Shall we dance, little one?” He was looking at Erika.

My head shot towards her to see her response. She just slowly smiled. “It has been a while since I kicked your butt, Michel. Let's see if you've forgotten any of what I've taught you.”

He laughed out loud at that, obviously thinking it was riotously funny, but slid out of the bench seat we were on and offered me his hand, still laughing, chuckling. This was going to be entertaining, whatever the hell it was going to be.

We walked towards the second private area to branch off
Sensations
main club rooms, this was where the bar had a storeroom and the sleeping quarters for some of Michel's vampires could be found. It also had a very large room which had been turned into a daytime retreat for the vamps. Complete with private bar facilities, couches and at the moment a big expanse of nothing. I think the plan was to bring in a pool table, some other entertainment, maybe a large flat screen T.V. Even vampires need something to do during the day. But I was guessing we were heading there for the large expanse of nothing and not to play poker on the little table in the corner.

There were a couple of vamps in the room when we entered, but they just nodded and left as soon as we arrived. No doubt Michel had given them direction through that telepathic link he has with all of his vampires. So, it was just Michel, me and Erika with a large long bag. She dropped the bag on the floor and proceeded to pull out wrapped lengths, which on closer inspection turned out to be swords. Wickedly sharp, shiny swords.

She pulled one from its sheath, or scabbard and brandished it in the air, twisting it one way then the other, catching the light in the room every now and then. It was a little longer than the one she had used on me earlier, with a diamond shape at the base of its hilt and a curved cross bar separating hilt from blade. The hilt was wrapped in a bronze type covering, very plain and simple, almost utilitarian. Both hilt and blade together were about four feet long, the blade about two inches wide, tapering to a tip at the end. It looked like it would be heavy, but she brandished it like it weighed mere ounces.


This,” she said looking at me, “is a Svante Sword. The sword of the viceroy. It is from my ancestral home. Not an original, I've had it altered slightly; better materials, lighter weight, but its design is original Svante. It is a good, strong weapon. One that calls on the history of the warrior diplomat who first wielded it. I won't train you with this one exactly, but one based on its design. But, for tonight's demonstration,” - She turned and smiled at Michel. - “it will do nicely.”

Michel had stripped off his Armani jacket and crisp white shirt while Erika had been talking and now stood opposite her on the bare mat that had been placed on the large rec room floor. He was naked from waist up, making it hard for me to look anywhere else but his deep cream coloured torso. I licked my lips self-consciously and willed myself to behave.

Erika pulled a second Svante Sword from her bag and walked towards Michel, handing him one with both hands on either end of the sword, bending at the waist, like you'd expect a Japanese swordsman to hand over a Katana. He accepted the blade with two hands and the same bow at the waist. She returned to her other sword and lifted it, then settled herself into a fighting stance, legs scissored, sword raised only slightly in front. Michel mimicked her pose.

“Let's dance,” she whispered. Michel nodded his head slowly in agreement.

I don't know what I had expected to see, the swords looked large and slightly cumbersome, even though they both wielded them with such ease, but it was a dance of sorts. It was beautiful and graceful and the only sounds initially were the clanging of the blades, that ringed around the room. Their bodies glistened in the lights, Erika had stripped to just her jeans and tank top, she had removed her boots and socks and was in bare feet. Michel still had his shoes on, but his body shone in the glow of the bulbs overhead, almost luminous. They moved like dancers, swirling and turning, ducking and diving, but all of it was exquisite, elegant, surreal and fast. Very fast. Vampire fast.

They blurred here and there, then stilled to parry a blow, thrust the sword, block a strike. The clanging of the blades got faster, more rhythmic in nature, as if they were both giving themselves over to the moment and dancing to their own combined beat. It was beautiful. It was mesmerizing. It was a dangerous dance for devils alone. Neither landing a blow, making that first cut and although they were only demonstrating the captivating beauty of swordsmanship, I knew they were also playing for keeps.

I'd been watching both of them as a unit, one moving forward the other retreating, then counter attacking, the to and fro between them dazzling, but my natural pull towards my kindred meant my gaze somehow shifted there of its own accord. I found myself unable to look away from his body as it flexed and twisted, stretched and moved in a motion that was simply hypnotic. His bare torso showing every minute muscular movement, the ripple of his upper chest, the curve of his waist, the flight of his body in full battle. It was obvious Michel knew how to wield a sword, second nature, something he had done for centuries and he was breathtaking.

“You're being cruel Michel.” Erika spoke between warding off a strike and returning with another thrust of her sword towards his abdomen. He dodged it easily and repositioned for further contact.

“Whatever do you mean, Erika?” he casually replied.

“Her heartbeat has trebled, she can't take much more of watching you like this.”

“I am well aware of what my kindred's heartbeat is doing.” His voice was level, but held a slight amusement.

I felt the blush creep up my face and was unable to stop it. I willed my heartbeat to lower, even closed my eyes to stop looking at the magnificent male in front of me, but the damage had already been done. Great. Does everyone know I lust after him?

Erika laughed, no doubt at my discomfort, but Michel took advantage of her lowered guard and sliced a line from the neck of her tank top to her waist, making the fabric gape in the front. She flashed electric blue eyes, threaded with shades of cyan and turquoise, at him.

“Now look whose heartbeat has climbed?” Michel quietly offered.

She rallied and increased her speed and all of a sudden what had seemed a fast and furious, but friendly fight, turned into a maelstrom of slashes and parries and clanging metal against metal, in a whirlwind of colour that was blinding. I held my breath, unable to tell who was landing blows and who wasn't, until finally Erika's sword went flying through the air, arcing across the expanse of space, glinting in the lights, to clatter against the far wall. Michel held his sword to her neck, just as she had held hers earlier against mine in the club.

“Do you concede, little one?” he asked, barely out of breath.

She glared at him briefly then nodded. He removed his sword and bowed towards her slowly. She followed suit rubbing her neck, where he had pricked her skin, as she stood up.


So, have I passed the test?” Michel asked as he walked over to the fridge in the corner and pulled out a bottle of water, taking a long drink.

“You always do, Michel, but one day, one day I'll win.” She said it with such defiance, he laughed. A low rumble in his chest.

“I would expect nothing less.”

His eyes flicked to me. I still hadn't managed to get my breathing entirely under control, but my heart rate had quieted.

“Your turn,” he said, holding my gaze and smiling wickedly. Then he went to sit down on the couch, settling in to watch.

“Wh..what?” I stammered. You have got to be joking, I couldn't wield a sword at this woman to save myself.

“It's all right,
chica
, you can use your stake. I just want to get a feel for what I'm working with, that's all.”

Erika had replaced her sword in its scabbard and had ripped her ruined tank top off and stood in a sports bra and jeans. Not in the least bit self-conscious. She looked me over. I was wearing my usual evening hunter gear; short black mini skirt, black tights and boots, fitted black Tee and a custom made black jacket. Custom made to hide two silver stakes and a silver knife. You wouldn't even know they were there unless you knew me. I never went anywhere without my stakes. I even slept with one under my pillow, although Michel had refused that notion when I shared his bed. I couldn't blame him, even I would have baulked at that, had I been a vampire.

“Take the jacket off.” She nodded towards me.

“I always fight in my jacket.” I'd feel a bit bare in my skin-tight top. It's one thing to wear skin-tight under my jacket, another to flash my body when I fight.

“I need to see how your body moves, which muscles you use. Preferably, I'd suggest stripping to your underwear, so I could get a better look, but I'm picking you'd refuse. So, jacket. Off.”

Michel chuckled in the corner, finding it highly amusing no doubt. I glared at him and he just shrugged. “You heard her,
ma douce
. I would have insisted on stripping, but she is the teacher.”

I sighed, what did it matter? She made sense and he was Michel, he'd seen me in less, but I don't know, the way he was watching me now made me think of a predator watching his prey. Normally, that should have made me scared, even with Michel that look can be terrifying, but it didn't. I felt a thrill of adrenaline skip through me, making my heartbeat increase all over again. He smiled that knowing smile he so often wore around me and just kept watching.

Bugger this, if he wanted a show he could have one. I stripped my jacket off and slipped out of my boots and tights, grabbing a stake and returning to the mat. I felt a little under dressed, standing in my short skirt and top, baring way more flesh than I would normally do when fighting a vamp, but I wasn't going to let them see my discomfort.
Never show fear. Never give an inch. Always stay on guard.

I was ready.

I rolled my head from side to side and said softly, “Shall we dance then, vampire?”

Erika laughed. “Oh, I like her already, Michel.” And then pounced.

Vampires tend to fall into two categories. The over confident and the extremely over confident. I placed Erika in the latter. She had no doubt heard all about my moves, she'd even seen a bit of my power in the club, but she was fierce and experienced, a level two master vampire herself, by the feel of all that
Sanguis Vitam
she couldn't hide when about to do battle. But she didn't know me. Not really. I've spent my younger years working on my parents' farm, hard labour on the weekends and school holidays, interspersed with one martial art obsession after another. Then more recently, when I moved to Auckland, I picked up kick-boxing and had an untold number of play fights with the Taniwhas, picking up their street fighting techniques and quickly mastering them too. Even without my Nosferatin mojo, I am formidable. I can switch from one form of fighting to another, mid stride, if an opponent thinks they can find my style easily, they are mistaken. The best part about being able to master so many different forms of fighting, is mixing it up a bit.

So, her first pounce was met with a lightning fast roundhouse kick, which she dodged but which also made her forgo her attack and move to defence. And I followed that with a front kick and an overhand punch, landing the first blow. I quickly rolled out of the way of the responding swipe of her arm, ending crouched some distance away facing her.

She paused, seemed to consider the last and nodded. I guess the test was over and we were onto the real deal now. She wouldn't hold back.

We circled for a moment, trying to find a weakness, but I knew from experience that finding a weakness on a vampire was damn near impossible. It was just a waste of time and only good if I needed a delay tactic, to catch my breath or something like that. I wasn't puffed yet, so I didn't give her time to consider my next move and just came at her with a jab, which she countered and then I followed it with a foot sweep, which she nimbly jumped. So far, she had been on the defensive, but I knew that wouldn't last.

I fingered my stake, letting the weight and feel of it settle me, centre me, bring me further into the zone. I don't know what she saw in my eyes, but she picked up on the change in my mood, she knew I was taking this seriously and her eyes flashed briefly, turquoise in amongst the blue. The next time she came at full vampire speed and there was nothing I could do stop her. I managed to raise the stake, but only partly and it just grazed the side of her arm as her fist landed a punch on my cheek, spinning me away from her body and her arms wrapped around me, crushing my back to her chest.

BOOK: Forbidden Drink
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