Giver of Light (22 page)

“Why would she be worried about Nosferatins?” Michel asked.

I thought about that for a moment, but couldn't come up with an adequate reply. Maybe it wasn't Nosferatins at all, maybe it was something to do with me? But, that didn't feel right either. I took a deep breath in and decided to sink into that nothingness I use to
seek
and Dream Walk and see if I could sense anything else. Initially, I got nothing, just the familiar black nothingness void, then suddenly Nut sent me a cascade of sensations; fear, concern, heartache and despair.

All of which felt familiar. I came out of the nothingness with a gasp, Michel cradling me in his arms. I tend to forget sometimes, that when I enter too far into that void, my soul or essence, or whatever, leaves my body and if I don't have it lying down, then it just collapses to the floor. Michel gets extremely irate when I do that, I can't blame him, watching my body go vacant and fall to the ground can't be a pleasant experience.

“Sorry,” I muttered, registering the pain and panic on his face.

He swallowed, twice, then asked, “What did you sense?”

I told him and tried to home in on where I had felt those sensations before. It took a moment and then it clicked. I had felt them when Gregor had told me of Nut's reaction to the massacred Nosferatu before he had been turned. Nut had felt deep fear, concern, heartache and despair. I hadn't realised she had sent me those sensations when Gregor had told me of his pre-vampire life, but they had been there. And they were here now.

Michel looked surprised at the thoughts he was receiving. Part of that was no doubt because of my conclusions and part was no doubt Gregor's history. He hadn't been in my mind when Gregor told me that story, he was probably a little shocked at what Gregor had once been. It had been Michel, after all, who had said a Nosferatin could not be turned into a Nosferatu.

“So,” he said, bringing us both back to the present. “She is worried about a loss, but is it a loss of Nosferatu or Nosferatin?”

Good question, I didn't know. But, I thought I might be able to find out.

“Where's your laptop and my satellite phone?” I asked, jumping up and grabbing some clothes from inside the dressing room.

“In the office,” he replied, already gliding off the bed, watching me with shrewd eyes as I frantically dressed, an elegant eyebrow raised on his porcelain face.

“I think I need to check on a few acquaintances,” I answered, heading out the door, my stomach churning at the task ahead.

I hadn't been on Nero's website since he had died, it had been one of those tasks I had swept under the rug and simply ignored. I had met Nero on that website, it was his baby, his way of reaching out to what was left of the Nosferatins in the world and providing them with a place of refuge and guidance in the Dark storm. Not all of the Nosferatins left were on it, it was highly protected, but if I, a bank teller in New Zealand, could have found it and managed to hack inside, then others had too.

I had a sinking feeling, as I booted up Michel's computer in his plushly decorated office downstairs - the warmth of his presence at my back which unfortunately couldn't quite chase away the chill - that if Jonathan wanted to ransom something important to me, then how much more important would a few of what was left of the Nosferatins in the world, from my network of support, be?

“
Merde,
” Michel whispered, as he heard my quiet thoughts.

There was only one Nosferatin on-line when I finally managed to hack back into the website. It had been a while since I had been there, so I didn't have the latest login password, but was determined not to wake Amisi to ask, before I was certain my fears were founded. One of us panicking was quite enough. In a final act of desperation I typed in N E R O and was rewarded with instant access. Maybe those left behind couldn't quite let go either.

I forced any emotional response to that aside and started up a dialogue box with
Citysider.
It took a few minutes for him to respond, just because he was logged in, didn't mean he was in front of his computer.
Citysider
is based in London, I had never met him, but we had certainly conversed in cyberspace and over the satellite phone on many occasions. He had a great Cockney accent and a friendly attitude. I hadn't realised how old he was when I first was introduced, he's not as old as Nero was, but not far off. England may not be the Old Country as far as vampires are concerned, that honour goes to France, but it is certainly one of the first they emigrated to and therefore Nosferatins needed to inhabit as well.
Citysider
has been around for a while, that was for sure.

How goes the Kiwi?
He typed when he obviously returned to his screen to see my hello.

Worried. Have you been in touch with the others recently?

There was a pause, then:
Last full count, minus you of course, was two days ago. We had arranged to meet again on-line this evening at 4am G.M.T.

4am G.M.T. Was of course, 4 am Greenwich Mean Time,
Citysider's
time. He was obviously the one now in control of the website, having had to take over from Nero's absence.

What do you know?
He typed, when I didn't immediately respond.

Better to talk on SP.

OK. Five minutes.
He logged out and I retrieved my case from Michel's safe, he had already opened it ready for me to grab my toy, the one Nero had gifted me. The satellite phone provided a secure way to contact other Nosferatins, scrambled and undetectable to our enemies. I also registered my stake case was inside the vault. And to my utter shock, my Svante. I hadn't remembered Michel's beautiful gift to me, but now memories of its intricate dancing dragon design came flooding back in. Funny how I hadn't even known where they were, I was still a little out of it, it would seem.

“I moved them there when you went missing. I wanted to protect them.” He didn't need to say anything else, it was written all over his face, in amongst the blame and loss and fear he had obviously felt when I had been taken. I reached up and stroked his cheek, leaving my hand there for a moment, then turned to place the case on his desk.

I wanted it powered up and ready in time for
Citysider's
call.

Nero had usually given us half an hour to get the satellite phone ready in the past, but nobody had Nero's patience. I kind of liked
Citysider's
more urgent speed. Especially right now.

The phone chirped at exactly five minutes and I pushed the responding call button and entered in my code.

“Kiwi here.”

“Citysider acknowledges Kiwi,” came the Cockney accent, I guess some things will always stay the same. Nero had  answered me like that on the phone too.

“What's happenin'
Sanguis Vitam Cupitor
?
I'm starting to get a creepy feelin' in my back, luv. Spill us the beans, then.”

“I've had a little message from Nut, I'm not entirely sure what it means, but my immediate interpretation is my kidnapper has taken some Nosferatins hostage. We received a call to arms from America last night. None of our line or allies are missing.”

A low whistle came down the line in response to that news. Of course, all of the Nosferatins on the website had been kept abreast of my month long trip to the States by Amisi, that wasn't what would have surprised him. I was guessing the call to arms was. Like Erika said, it had been a long time since America last called an enemy to arms.

“OK. I'm guessin' the call to arms is due to you escaping Jonathan's clutches, is he in good with the King then?”

“He is the King.”

A short intake of breath. “Righ' then. I'll make the rounds with phone calls, regular ones that is, to those missing the meetin'. Until I can ascertain who is out huntin' and who is actually AWOL, we'll just have to hang tight. I'll be back in touch, keep the phone on.”

He rang off without further discussion. Clearly Nero had placed good faith in
Citysider
as his backup on the website for good reason. He didn't muck about when faced with an immediate threat.

Another wait. I switched the phone to standby and gently lowered it to the desk. Michel's arms came around me again, his lips brushing against my head.

“How about a bite to eat?” he offered quietly.

I was so not hungry, I almost answered back something along the lines of
not fucking likely
, but he turned me to him and stared long and hard into the eyes. “You haven't eaten for over twelve hours,
ma douce
. Do not fight me on this.”

I smiled, despite myself, he was in charge after all.

“That's my girl,” he said, his mouth twitching at the sides.

He wouldn't let me make it. Michel is not a cook, certainly not like Amisi, but he is capable of throwing together a damn good sandwich, usually laden with meat and salad and decadent dressings. He always manages to surprise me with a new flavour combination that works. This time was no different, beef, tangy relish, lettuce and tomatoes, it was a work of art.

“You got an extra one of those?” Amisi said, stepping into the dining room, rubbing sleep from her eyes, dressed in striped pyjamas which somehow managed to look cute on her lithe frame.

“
Where did you come from?” I asked, moving the satellite phone aside to make space for my towering sandwich, my mouth already salivating at the thought of biting in. From not being hungry at all, to being unable to share even a bite of my food with Amisi was one hell of a leap. Michel just laughed and started making another for her.

“I woke up with a feeling that something wasn't right. It isn't is it?” she said, staring at the satellite phone on the bench beside me.

I gave her a brief run-down on Nut's message and my conversation with
Citysider
while she waited for her sandwich. By the time I was finished, she had hers and I was well and truly into mine, the odd sound of delight escaping the back of my throat.

“Well,” Amisi managed between mouthfuls. “If this doesn't make it Prophesy related I don't know what would. Awan will have to consider aiding us now.”

“I like your reasoning, Amisi. You should have been a politician,” Michel murmured from across the kitchen, a slightly surprised look on his face as he watched her.

“Let's just see if any are missing first, before we start wheeling and dealing for support,” I interjected.

“True. Still, I would like to bring Alessandra and Enrique up to date, they are aware of several Nosferatin throughout Europe and those that assist the
Iunctio,
Gregor will be able to trace. This, if it does prove to be Nosferatin related, may not just be centred on those Nosferatin you are in contact with. This could prove bigger than we fear.” Not words I wanted to hear at all, but he was right. Nut had seemed almost beside herself with fear and even though a couple of lost Nosferatin was bad enough to elicit that type of response, it was almost an explosive feeling of despair, as though all was totally lost.

My stomach sank and my sandwich decided to do an awesome flip landing uncomfortably at the bottom of my belly. I forced a rising tide of nausea down and swallowed several times to get myself under control. Michel came around my side of the bench and kissed me on the forehead.

“Whatever it is,
ma douce
, we will deal with it.” He glided out of the kitchen/dining area, obviously on his way back to the office to contact his allies.

Amisi pushed her half eaten sandwich away and looked as pale as me.

“Will Awan let you know if any of your community go astray?” I asked, concerned that the Egyptians may not be free from this threat just yet.

“Yes, he promised to let me know if their situation changed. When we last spoke, he had already put measures in place to protect them. Michel's call had given him ample notice I think, to reinforce security there.”

At least that was one thing. Amisi came from the largest community of Nosferatins in the world. There's just not that many of us left alive. When our ancestors decided to deny the Nosferatu our power, they pulled away and hid. In doing so, their first borns, Nosferatin vampire hunters like Amisi and myself, were unable to join with a Nosferatu, so one month past their 25
th
birthdays, they all died. Over the centuries that they hid, our numbers declined drastically. It has only been in the last century or so, that we have started coming out of the closet.

Nero, however, had kept his community hidden, but not turned his back on the Nosferatu. He and several others had joined and Amisi was slated to join as well. Now of course, she would have to find a Nosferatu here in New Zealand to join with, those in Egypt were no longer an option. Luckily, she had a bit of time, she was only just on 20 years old, five years before her ticking time bomb exploded.

Still, with so few Nosferatin left in the world it was a real fear if a handful went missing. The balance of good versus evil was on a knife edge as it was, we barely managed to hold back the Dark. The Prophesy was only meant to be activated at a time of terrible imbalance. We had all thought that was because right now the Dark was still a little stronger than the Light, our numbers just not enough to hold back the tide of evil that was spreading across the globe. What if that wasn't the case at all? The loss of more Nosferatin would certainly prove a terrible imbalance between Light and Dark, wouldn't it? Maybe the Prophesy had anticipated this move and started in preparation for its fallout.

“Oh shit,” I said with feeling, rubbing my queasy stomach. “This could be bad.”

Amisi didn't disagree, she just sat there in silence rigidly still. I was sure she had come to the same conclusion as me, but saying it aloud, just seemed bad. Really bad.

Oh Nut, what now? If we lost more Nosferatins, where would that leave us?

The satellite phone chirping made both Amisi and I jump a foot in the air. After pulling myself back together, I hit the call button and entered my code. Clearing my throat, I announced I was there.

Citysider's
voice came down the line, but it felt a universe away, by the time his words reached me.

“
I can't raise six of our members.
Yankee, Smurf, Islander, Elvis, Braveheart
and
Marco.
” The silence that followed that announcement was complete.

I knew four of those Nosferatin fairly well, one I had met in Rome. Marco was an immature Nosferatin, when I Dream Walked to him, Gregor had him by the fang. It was the first time I had met Gregor and back then he'd had a death wish. He had been attempting to feed off Marco, reeking evil like bad cologne, hoping it would attract me. He had heard of my success as Michel's local vampire hunter and he wanted me to bring him the final death.

I didn't. I saved Marco, introduced him to Nero through the website and set about saving Gregor too.

The other three Nosferatin from
Citysider's
list were all familiars on the website, I had conversed with them on many occasions, traded information, garnered support and guidance. They were all people I would consider friends.
Yankee
was obviously American, based in New York I think.
Smurf
was based in Atlanta and
Islander
was based in Singapore.

“
Where are
Elvis
and
Braveheart
from?” I asked, trying to get a fix on the global aspect of those missing, maybe there was a pattern.

“
Elvis
was from Las Vegas and
Braveheart
was from Edinburgh,” came
Citysider's
accented reply.

So, three from America, which made sense, those would be easy pickings for the Council of Families, but then one from South East Asia, one from Europe and one from Great Britain. It just didn't make sense.

“I can understand the American Nosferatins, but why the others?”

“I don't know. Maybe there is a reason they aren't answering their cells. I'll keep trying and if I get a reply, I'll let you know, but for now we assume they are AWOL and we need to discuss a plan to get them back.”

“Michel is still to determine how to respond to the call to arms, he will no doubt be meeting with his allies this evening. I'll let you know what I can, when I know more myself.” I suddenly felt a little defeated then, it probably made my voice sound hollow.