Giver of Light (20 page)

Shit, it puts a whole knew meaning on the word fate, doesn't it?

I didn't know if I would stop dreaming of blood, would stop seeing Nero's death in my head. I'd like to think I was finally letting him go, a part of me certainly felt more calmed from the knowledge of why he left me and the fact that I could not have done a thing to change that destiny for him. But, I knew it wouldn't be easy, I'd have to work at it, remind myself of the bigger picture, a term I have never been particularly fond of before. But it did make a sort of sense now that settled in my soul.

As for Gregor, I wasn't sure if I could help him like he had helped me. His demons were still so very present and even though he had said those words of Nut's, that our destinies are preordained no matter what path we choose to take, I don't think he actually heard them. I wanted to help him, but I wasn't sure if I was the one to do it.

“Thanks, Gregor, for telling me. You don't know how much it's helped.”

His eyebrows raised and a little of the old Gregor returned, a small smirk on those soft lips. “I have,
ma cherie
? What brilliant luck.” I knew then he wouldn't entertain any words of wisdom from me, his path may be crossing mine, but I wasn't his end goal. I looked around the room and spotted Amisi, drink in hand surrounded by Michel's vampires. All of which were behaving themselves, but definitely trying to reel her in.

“Would you like another damsel to rescue?” I asked innocently.

“I'm always up for a rescue mission, little Hunter. Who did you have in mind?”

I nodded towards Amisi and watched the light return to Gregor's eyes. “Ah,” he said. “A difficult damsel indeed. I'm not entirely sure she would welcome my assistance. Quite independent that one, even more so than you.”

I laughed, he could say that again. “Yes, but haven't you always said you enjoyed a challenge.”

His eyes returned to me with sharp assessment. “Are you trying to get rid of me or perhaps you'd like to see me crash and burn? You are wicked, I would expect nothing less.”

I laughed even harder. “I don't think you'll crash and burn, Gregor, maybe have to dodge a few bullets, but not explode in a shower of body pieces. And, I believe her current round of suitors are simply not up to the task. She's practically eating them all for dinner.”

He laughed then, a full throaty laugh, a welcomed sound that chased away the memories and wrapped me up with sunshine.

“So be it. I will have to just take one for my kin,” he said, standing in a smooth glide. If we hadn't have just had the conversation we had, I would have missed it, but it was there. A slight bitter resentment at the fact that he had to class himself among the vampires, as one of them. My heart ached a little for him, but if anyone could make him snap out of it and have a reason to live, it would be Amisi. And did I for a moment worry that I was setting my Amisi up with a wounded vampire? No, not at all, Amisi was lost to Gregor the moment she met him.

Just as I was to Michel.

Speaking of Michel, I wasn't alone for long. No sooner had Gregor left my side than a very happy, very content, very amorous vampire slid into the bench seat beside me.

His arm went around my shoulder and his lips found my new mark, a reverent kiss was gently placed upon it.

“How is my kindred?”

“Good. Really good.” And I think I meant it, for the first time in over a month I felt whole: me, purpose returned, world levelled. Well sort of, I still wanted that slime-ball Jonathan killed, but otherwise I knew where I was heading, what I had lost, but how to move on without it. “Yeah, I'm feeling pretty damn good actually.”

“Excellent,” he whispered, voice low against my skin. “Would you care to share some of your goodwill with your kindred? I am open to small gifts, nothing monumental. Maybe,” - his free hand came to take mine from my lap and place it on his groin where I was rewarded with an already rock hard arousal beneath the thin material of his trousers - “this could give you inspiration.”

“Oh,” I said. “I am feeling rather inspired.”

He chuckled and shifted himself closer, turning his body from the dance floor, providing us with a small measure of privacy. Oh shit, he wanted me to do something right here? Crap.

As it happens, my morals were saved by Jett, who came up so quietly I hadn't even heard his approach. Michel no doubt knew he was there, but was choosing to ignore him. But, once Jett blocked the light out, throwing us both into shadow, I'd lost any nerve I'd had at all.

Michel sighed when my hand returned to my lap and turned to face Jett, not bothering to hide his erection tenting his trousers in the slightest.

“This had better be interesting, Jethro.”

Jethro? Go figure.

“We have received a call to arms from America.” You gotta hand it to the big guy, he didn't beat about the bush.

Michel stiffened considerably and turned more to face his second in command.

“Why?”

“They wish to honour their King's reputation,” Jett replied with a growl.

“America has a King?” I piped up.

Michel answered, almost distractedly. “They have a Council of Families, the head of one is elected as their chosen King.”

“Who is their King?” I asked, but I was already drawing my own conclusion.

“Obviously not who I thought it was this morning,” Michel said in a low voice looking at Jett.

Jett returned his look with one of pure disgust.

I didn't need him to say it, it was written all over his face, the disgust that this vampire had risen to a position where he could threaten us with the might of all the American families behind him, when he was simply considered lower than dirt on the bottom of Jett's shoes.

Jonathan.

The slime-ball had been organising a coup since I escaped. He had been a busy boy, hadn't he?

“Six families, spread across the continent, some as big as 120 vampires per family, but we would not expect every vampire to be involved. Just a core number of their elite fighters from each branch, backing up the King. They wouldn't want to leave their own backyards undefended. Not only from us, but from each other, in-fighting is rampant among them.”

Erika had joined Jett at our table and our intimate party setting had immediately turned into a make-shift war room. A map of the USA spread out in front of us, areas highlighted in different colours, depicting different families who ran that particular city and surrounding land. It was colourful and most of the land mass that makes up America was covered, making the task ahead seem so very daunting indeed.

I stared at the map, trying to take it all in. Differing colours from green in Seattle, Washington, down to blue in Las Vegas, Nevada. Across to yellow in Dallas, Texas and then round to brown in Atlanta, Georgia. Up to orange in New York, New York and of course, slap bang almost in the middle, red in Denver, Colorado. A kaleidoscope of colours, butting up against each other almost engulfing the entire map. They pretty much had the whole country covered, a small section up in Montana was left blank, uncoloured. I guess there just wasn't the population density to warrant a vampire stronghold there. Or maybe they were saving it for expansion at a later date.

“The previous King was based in Atlanta,” Erika continued, thrusting a finger on the map in the vague direction of Georgia. “Samuel was a tyrant, he'd been in charge of the Council for at least five decades, a pretty significant time for America. They're staunch rule followers, but they also are devious sons of bitches. Any opportunity to get up the ladder would be taken and damn the consequences. Punishments were harsh if you were caught, however, so only those who really thought they had a chance, be it strength wise or suitable numbers in support, would challenge the King. But, lower down the ladder, loyalties change quickly and so do positions upon that ladder.

“From what I last knew, Jonathan was about a third or fourth on the ladder in Denver. I know for a fact that the head of that family, Tomas, had a powerful second by the name of Manuel, who was unbelievably protective of his family's head. For Jonathan to have passed him to claim head of the family is impressive, but not impossible. He may have managed some sort of manoeuvre after I left, he's had time to climb since then and I wouldn't know. Even though I wasn't based in Denver, my exit was noted, all of my contacts have gone to ground. I'm
persona non grata
now.”

She didn't seem too fazed by that. When Erika was first called back to Michel's line she made it quite clear she was happy to be out of the American fold. Erika is tough, but even she shuddered whenever she talked of the punishments meted out by the yanks.

“So, political manoeuvring into head of his family is not altogether unbelievable, but to have moved on to the position of King, is. I couldn't even offer up a possible scenario on how he has managed that. Samuel was well protected and although an utter maniac, he was well respected across all families. In the past fifty years he has brought wealth and order to what was an absolute hodge podge of vampire debauchery. He's been given the sole credit for saving the American Families from self destruction. Jonathan having usurped him is nothing short of miraculous.”

“Perhaps the hows and whys are not so important, the fact is, he is King now and as such commands a formidable army.” Michel's voice was fairly unemotional, just stating facts. Even the way he was sitting didn't give anything away, he was casually leaning back in our booth, legs crossed at the knees, arm resting easily across the table top playing with the edge of the map. But his other hand, resting on my thigh, was firm, unyielding, as though the contact with me made it impossible to hide his true feelings. He covered it well on the outside, throughout the rest of his body, but through that touch on my leg I could tell he was concerned. Very concerned.

“How many can we expect in his army?” Jett asked Erika.

“They've not called anyone to arms for several decades. Although their everyday lifestyle is harsh and unforgiving, peace has actually reigned in America for some time. I could only guess what their tactics would be from minor skirmishes they have had, here and there, over the past decade, that I have witnessed.”

“Then guess.” It was said without preamble, either Jett was as concerned as Michel, or he and Erika were having a fight and he wasn't bothering to hide his feelings. I kind of sympathised with him, just give us the bottom line already.

Erika glared at him for a second and then straightened her shoulders. “The size of each family varies, so some may be able to offer more than others.” She reached for the map and spun it back towards her, her fingers going to each coloured area, while she obviously calculated numbers in her head. After a couple of minutes she sat back with a frown on her face, making her look like a very angry miniature Barbie doll.

“Well?” Michel said impatiently. He and Jett were definitely on the same bandwagon right now, so maybe Jett wasn't throwing a personal hissy fit at Erika after all.

“All up, there's about 620 vampires in the Council of Families, their elite fighting corps makes up about 40% of their numbers, the rest are all either part of the dynasty structure, or out on their own paying tithes to their heads. And of the 40% they would use no more than half of their force for external defensive requirements, even then they would try to skimp on the number, leaving more in their home territories than not. So,” - she rounded up, seeing the ever more impatient looks on the male vampires surrounding her - “you're looking at an army of maximum 120-130 elite fighters.”

Considering the number of vampires in America alone, that didn't sound nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. Just a shame Michel and Jett didn't feel the same way.

“
Merde,
” offered Michel quietly.

“Fuck,” spat Jett a lot louder at the same time.

“Will they come here?” I asked.

Erika looked relieved to offer more intel and get away from the numbers for a moment. “Unlikely, they will expect us to come to them, but for that they will have to entice us.”

“Entice us?” I didn't like the sound of that.

“They will take, or already have taken, something of ours and they will ransom it.”

Whoa, this sounded familiar. I glanced around the club and quickly spotted all the people who were important to at least me. Amisi, Gregor, Doug at the bar, Shane Smith, his blonde curls bobbing as he laughed at something in the corner. Yep, all present and accounted for.

“What could they take?”

Michel shifted in his seat next to me, but didn't answer my question, instead he directed an order towards Jett. “Account for all of the line and those of our allies.”

Jett was gone in an instant, but the orders weren't finished. To Erika he added, “Ensure Lucinda's parents are secured.” She nodded and disappeared.

I hadn't even thought of them, and hell yes, I would move Heaven and Earth to get them back if they had been taken. Michel's fingers laced with mine and he pulled me close.

“Now we wait,
ma douce
. It will become obvious who is missing before long.”

Before long, didn't mean before sunrise. As dawn approached both Jett and Erika had not returned with any news, so we headed back to St Helier's Bay and the house, our personal guards in tow and settled in to wait for news in the comfort and privacy of our home.

No one was able to sleep though. The guards settled themselves into subtle positions inside the house, every corner covered, Michel and I never entirely out of sight, but not shadowed wherever we went either. They had picked up a few tricks since I had returned and their guarding had become much less obvious than before. I was grateful for the show of space, even if I knew it was only an illusion.

Nothing settles my nerves like coffee, so it was with as much focused attention as I could muster that I went through the motions of preparing the perfect cup of Java. First the beans in the hopper, then set to grind. Let the machine tamp the grinds firmly in the portafilter basket and listen to it force the water through the packed grounds. A few seconds later I was rewarded with thick, rich smelling caffeine permeating the air. The last touch, milk in the frothing jug, another button and the machine did the rest. A perfect cappuccino every time.

Coffee has been my friend for a long time, this new machine was a replacement for one I had spent the better part of a month's salary on, but had it destroyed by a very angry Taniwha making a very loud point. Michel had simply made sure this one was waiting for me when I moved into his home here at St Helier's. God knows how he had managed it on such short notice, but he is a miracle worker at times, there's no denying it.

I turned with my perfect brew and found Michel watching me, the corners of his lips twisting into a smile.

“Miracle worker?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“You've got to get out of my head, Michel, one day you may not like what you hear.”

“
Ma douce
, there is nothing you could think that I wouldn't love to hear. Nothing.”

I believe he really meant that, but no one can think nice thoughts all the time, sooner or later I'd screw it up.

He shook his head. “You forget,
ma belle
, I love all of you, every stray thought, every single part.” He glided over to where I was resting against the cupboards sipping my coffee. I managed to just get the cup down on the bench before his lips found his new mark on my neck, his mouth making quick work of worshipping the spot, making shots of heat burst through me so quickly and easily I thought he had me under a mind spell. It was a spell, I thought vaguely, losing all sensation below the waist, just one of the heart, not of the mind.

“Mm,” he murmured, against my neck. “Every stray thought.” His mouth had made it to my ear and he started nibbling in earnest there, knowing damn well the effect that spot had over me.

I was quite happy for him to continue. I couldn't have cared less about the location, or the fact that his vampires had all now moved inside the house, as the shutters were down already. And that two of them were just through the door of the kitchen in the hallway standing guard, hearing every word spoken, every sound made. I didn't care, I just wanted to keep feeling what it was he was making me feel.

So, it was a surprise when he paused and cocked his head to the side.

“What is it?” I asked, recognising his expression, the one he normally took on when communicating over a vast distance with his vampires telepathically. The closer they were, the less concentration required.

“Your parents are safe. Erika has found accommodation for those of the line she has with her nearby and our Day Walkers are guarding them for now. They will not know they exist, Erika has cloaked them.” He smiled then, a look of pride coming over his features. “It seems Erika has picked up a few tricks from our Jett, I had not known she could cloak.”

I smiled too, remembering how good Jett was at cloaking us, having had to do that once when we were in Wellington. Erika was certainly picking up a few hidden talents from her liaison with Michel's second. I was relieved with the information she had provided too and couldn't help realise that was why Michel had been so amorous, to help me focus on something other than the wait for news.

“Who are Day Walkers?” It was a term I hadn't heard him use before.

“Human servants, in this case trained as guards.” I had always known Michel had humans in his employ, I had seen them at
Sensations,
but I hadn't realised he had guards as well.

He pulled back and smiled at me, a lazy amused smile. “I have been forced to take additional precautions,
ma douce
, since your abduction and it seems it was worthwhile.”

He was right, I couldn't complain, despite part of me wondering how he kept the humans in line, ensuring they didn't divulge any information about his day sleeping location or anything else inherently vampire. I knew the answer he would give though,
we are vampyre, Lucinda, it is what we are.

He laughed out loud at my poor imitation of his French accent and mannerisms in my mind. “Do I really sound that bad?”

I smiled, despite the seriousness of our situation, we still hadn't heard back from Jett. “You can be very superior, you know?”

“That is because I am,” he added in mock autocratic tones. “And you would be wise to remember.”

I just laughed at him and he shook his head in exasperation. “You are impossible.” His smile turned genuine, his eyes flashing amethyst and indigo in amongst the blue. “Entirely, impossible.” His head had just bent low to cover my mouth with a warm kiss when the front door crashed open and a whole lot of swearing in a thick Egyptian accent could be heard storming closer to the kitchen.

Michel's lips left mine in a sigh and his head rested against my forehead as we waited for the obvious wrath of Egypt to barge in on our little scene.

“I see our Amisi has picked up a few of your more choice language skills,
ma douce
.”

Yes, I wasn't too happy about that myself. Amisi had always appeared to be such a lady, a tough, capable, kick-butt lady, but a lady all the same. I may be quite comfortable swearing like a trouper, I am from a farming background, but hearing Amisi cuss the same way was a little embarrassing. Embarrassing that I influenced her in such a bad way. Nero could bring out the perfect warrior in her, I brought out the gutter snipe. Great.