Kindred (Kindred, Book 1) (41 page)

He stopped then, still looking into the distance. I wasn't sure if he would go on, there seemed to be such sadness in his eyes. For some reason I hadn't thought that talking of his past life would cause him this much pain. How could I have been so cruel to have brought this up? I put my apple down on the tray and moved it off the bed, then came to sit in front of him. His gaze came back to me, from that place so far away, so long ago. The blues swirling their differing shades, a small shine to his eye I had not seen before. He reached up and stroked my face, obviously seeing the concern I felt for him there, feeling my compassion.

“It is all right,
ma douce
. I had forgotten so much.”

“
Don't say anything else. You don't need to remember.”

“
Remembering is not such a bad thing. It is cathartic, I think.”

He leaned forward, his hand behind my neck and kissed my forehead. “I want you to know.” His breath was hot against my skin.

“I was 32 when I was changed. I had not asked for it. I was a member of
la nouvelle France's
first standing army since Roman times. It was a heady time in our history. Political structures which would remain for centuries were formed. Absolute monarchy was the order of the day. Not being of noble blood, I started at the lowest of ranks, but I was an excellent soldier and rose to a command swiftly. My successes allowing for a position of rank usually only given those of certain birth.

“
I had my detractors of course, especially those of the aristocracy who resented my favour with the King. I had come to Charles' attention after commanding a brutal battle with the English. It had been a crucial victory in our expelling them from our shores. The turning point you might say. But despite my position as a favoured servant to the realm, I came under attack.”

He paused then and sighed. It was the sort of sigh that broke your heart, it said more than that action alone should ever convey, it said the weight of the world had come to rest on this person's shoulders and would be borne there for the rest of his life. In Michel's case, that had proved to be many times the length of a normal human's. I could only imagine what that weight must have done to him in all that time.

“They came for my family first. I was under commission at the time, away from our village. Of course, I didn't know of their fate until after the fact. I received word that there had been an accident and took leave from my battalion immediately, returning in all haste. It was a trap. But, thankfully the family had been killed swiftly. For such a harsh time in France's history, that was a small miracle. Those who would have me killed, however, did not dirty their own hands, nor rely on soldiers to carry out the order as they had my families deaths. They sent instead an assassin, someone they turned to for delicate matters. My death would not go unnoticed, it needed to be carried out with care.

“
They did not know however, that that assassin was a vampyre. Amicus used the opportunity to kill for a living, as a source of easy food. He had not expected I would fight so hard, that I would nearly succeed in killing him. I did not know what he was, so the deep cut to his throat and the knife to the stomach seemed sufficient and I left. Determined to exact revenge on those who had killed my kin. Amicus needed to rest before repairing, but when he rose again he hunted me down. I had not gone far.”

This had all been said so matter of factly, with so little emotion, just a story being recited from a book. I had no doubt that it was to protect himself, break it all down to just events, not emotions. I was surprised that Michel was laying himself so bare to me, I had asked the question, but never dared to think he would open up so fully, let me see so much. Despite the sadness of the story, I couldn't help feeling privileged to be with him right now.

“What did you do?”

He smiled his usual knowing smile, the Michel I knew was back. “Amicus had seen my potential, he turned me, expecting me to be a strong servant to command. It took just over fifty years to surpass his
Sanguis Vitam
level and to exact the last of my revenge. The rest, as they say, is history.” He smiled broadly at that.

I wanted to ask more, to ask what he had done for the 500 years since being turned, but I didn't get a chance. With a swift movement, just barely off that of a blur, Michel had me on my back, his body pinning mine, his mouth laying kisses all over my body.

“Now, enough! On to much more pleasurable pastimes I think.”

Whatever happened to not having sex every day? God help me.

By the time we emerged from the tangled covers of limbs and covers and sweat-soaked sheets, the sun had set and
Sensations
was in full swing. Michel had Bruno bring me a change of clothes, so I was able to dress in my normal attire. I'm not a Goth, but I do like black. Hides better in the shadows and you never know when you may need to be hidden. I was sitting at the bar next to Bruno, Michel was at a table on the far side of the room, watching me, but dealing with his business needs, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

By the time I had turned around, Bruno had Rick's arm in his beefy grip and was pulling it around behind his back. Rick grimaced, but didn't complain, just growled a low warning to Bruno.

“Let go of me, vampire.”

“
Hands off. Lucinda is taken.”

Great. Here's the ownership thing again.

“Let go of him, Bruno. He's a friend.” I placed a hand on Bruno's arm to get his attention.

“
No. You are not welcome here.” Bruno directed that statement at Rick with an increase of pressure on his arm.

“
What do you mean he's not welcome! Of course he is, he's my friend,” I replied incredulously.

Bruno didn't let go, but turned his face slowly to look at me with those fierce uncompromising eyes. “No, Lucinda. He is not welcome.”

I got it then. He was receiving instructions from Michel, those silent orders spanning the airwaves.

“
I'll deal with this,” I said as I stomped off towards where Michel was sitting with another vamp.

He was deep in conversation, pretending he wasn't even aware of what was going on across the room, he wasn't fooling me. He looked up at my approach.

“Lucinda?”

Don't Lucinda me, buddy.
“Tell Bruno to back off.” I kept my voice steady, I was kind of proud of how it sounded.

Michel simply looked past me to the scene still unfolding at the bar, as though it was the first time he knew anything about it.

“Bruno is in charge of maintaining the standard of occupancy in the club. He is only doing his job.”

“
I'm sure he is only doing his job, but it's not to chuck the riff-raff out is it? Rick is my friend, Michel. I'd like him to stay.”

His face clouded briefly, before returning to its usual mask of calm.

“Excuse me, Simon. I must attend my Nosferatin.”

The way he said it sounded more like
I must discipline my wayward Nosferatin
, but the vampire didn't say anything, just nodded and left the booth they had been in.

“
Sit, Lucinda.” When I didn't make a move other than to fold my arms across my chest, he sighed and added, “Please?”

I slunk down into the seat opposite him.

“Tell Bruno to back off, Michel.” Repetition, my mantra with stubborn vamps.

Michel sat looking at me for a moment, then scratched his head slowly. “We are in the middle of establishing a Bond, Lucinda. It is important we do not get distracted.”

“OK. But, you can work and deal with your vampire stuff, talking to other vampires, isn't that a distraction?”

“
It is merely business, my dear, nothing of a personal nature. Your relationship with the shape shifter is quite different.”

“
He's a friend, Michel. That's all.”

“
So you say.”

“
What, you don't believe me?” He gave me a look then, one that said back off.

Neither of us said anything for a while, just sat there looking at one another. I had to hide a smile though, when it was Michel who broke the silence first.

“What would you have me do,
ma douce
? My kin are aware of our Bonding, to allow the shape shifter -” “His name is Rick.” “- to remain would be an insult to my position, would it not? I cannot allow to been seen as threatened.”

“
Rick threatens you?”

“
Of course.” He said it with barely contained exasperation.

OK. This I hadn't seen coming. Michel being jealous of my friendship, yes, but to actually feel threatened, as though Rick
could
take me away, no – I hadn't seen that coming at all. Michel's always in control, this seemed to indicate an area he was not quite as sure of his control as he would have liked.

He reached over and took my hand. “Can you understand?”

Yes, I could understand, but to give in now would be to accept my position as the less powerful one in this relationship, it would hand Michel control of our interactions for a long time to come. In the eyes of him and his vampires, I would have toed the line, just like a good servant Nosferatin should. Also, Rick is my friend, why shouldn't I have that relationship with him? How could I ask him to leave, he wouldn't understand vampire politics.

No. I couldn't let Michel do this, I had to stand my ground.

I'd had my head down, staring at Michel's hand holding mine, biting my lip while I worked through all of this, when I raised it and looked into Michel's eyes, I realised he'd felt all of my emotions and knew exactly what my answer would be.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. “I am sorry.”

I didn't understand what he meant at first. Sorry he was acting the way he was? Sorry he had asked for Rick to leave? Sorry Bruno was being an over zealous Mafioso bodyguard? But then I heard Rick shout out, from across the room, “See ya later, Luce. Gotta Go.”

I turned to see him wave and smile and simply walk out the door. It took a minute for my mind to catch up with that picture and then I saw the glow slowly fading in Bruno's eyes as he turned back to his drink at the bar and I felt the world turn a hazy shade of red at the realisation of what Michel had Bruno do.

Rick had been glazed.

I immediately took my hand back from Michel's and balled it in a fist, resting it on the top of the table between us.

“How could you?” It was low, even and dripping in anger.

“
You left me no choice.”

“
There is always a choice, Michel. You just have trouble choosing the right one, it would seem.”

He sighed. “I do not wish to fight with you,
ma douce
.”

“
No, you just want me to be your lap dog, to do what you say when you say. To not have a mind of my own, to not stand up to you, to not be independent. You want me in my place, right where you friggin' put me!” And OK, so my voice might have risen a little at the end there, but still, it was a pretty good speech, as far as speeches go.

Michel didn't seem to think so though, his eyes glowed their amethyst and violet swirls and he stilled, locking me with his gaze.

Then I was standing in his, now magenta coloured chamber, the warmth of his touch on my arms and side fading, my head a little giddy, looking in the face of a very angry, very unhappy vampire, but I had no idea how I had got there.

“
Did you just glaze me?”

“
No.” It was barely a whisper.

“
Then how did we get here?”

“
I carried you.”

“
You went
that
fast?”

“
Yes.”

I had to admit I was impressed with that. I've seen Michel move in a blur, I've seen him look like he just appeared out of thin air, but I had never seen him move an object with such speed. I hadn't thought it was possible. I mean, he would have had to get out of his seat, grab me from mine, cross the bar to the private door, open it, get down the hall, open the chamber, close the door, and stand me there. In a split fraction of a split second.

“That's wicked!” I couldn't help it, it just was.

His lips quirked, just a bit at the edges, but I saw.

He let a big breath out - so did I, but I tried to hide it - and his eyes started to dim from their impossible glow that had lit up the darkened room. He flicked his hands and the lights came on, softly on the tables beside the bed, giving the area a more natural sheen from that of purple.

His hand ran through his hair, I was starting to like that motion and he looked straight at me. “Why do you make me feel emotions I have never felt before?”

“Emotions? Like what?”

“
Regret. Guilt.” A pause. “Heartache.”

“
You can be better than what you are, Michel. You don't have to be an Amicus.”