Authors: Nicola Claire
“Come on then,” I coaxed him. “Show me what you've got.”
I fingered my stake and settled myself into a fighting stance. I could have made this quick and easy. He wasn't a master, just a low level rogue. I could have spun towards him and taken him by surprise. He lacked the
Sanguis
Vitam
to be able to match my speed. I could have ended this in under ten seconds flat. And considering there was a cowering human on the sidelines, I should have. But, I needed to feel something other than loss. I needed to wipe the loss and heartache and sadness away. Pain would do it. The physical pain of a fight.
I let him circle closer, feinted a move to the left and a half hearted lunge to his right and received a solid punch in my shoulder for my efforts. A dull pain shot down my arm and made me feel more alive than anything had in weeks. I rolled my neck from side to side and was rewarded with a glint of satisfaction from the vamp. He thought I was untrained. Funny. I'd had the best Nosferatin teacher in the world. Nero would be chastising me for what I was doing right now. Letting a vampire beat me.
His fist found my jaw and I was forced to punch him in the diaphragm in return, or let him near my neck. I may have wanted a hands on battle, but my neck was off limits. I twirled away and using the force of his last strike, punched him in the kidneys, and then feinted a stumble backwards. He spun, unaffected by my last pulled punches and landed a fist to my stomach, followed by a fucking beauty to the side of my head.
OK, so now stars were sparkling and the world had decided to spin. Time was up. Any further and this pathetic excuse for a blood sucker
would
get the better of me. I rounded with a side kick to his upper chest and followed through with a roundhouse to his head. He stumbled - I don't think it was an act like mine had been - and then recovered quickly with a pounce.
I was momentarily impressed. Most would have chosen by now to high-tail it down the deserted street causing me to follow. I may not be a vampire who enjoys the chase of their prey, but I am descended from something like them, so I can appreciate the irony. Let them think they can escape when really their capture is inevitable. This vamp was on borrowed time.
Tell
him
that.
He came at me with his fangs down and an eerily red glow to those baby blue eyes. I tried to ignore the purple and swiped out with my right hand landing a gash with my stake, at least an inch deep, into the side of his arm. He growled - a nasty high pitched sound of pain - and sprang off against the wall of a building beside us to land on top of me in a flash. So much for my superior speed. Or his lack thereof.
We tumbled for a few feet, the world doing its topsy-turvy thing and allowing me to see the human had finally exited stage left. Thankfully I wouldn't have to convince him the vampire bursting into dust was all a dream. My back hit the edge of the pavement, right above the gutter. Any harder and I'm sure it would have fractured. As it was I did grunt with pain and had to grit my teeth through the after effects.
I rolled him over onto his back. I'm stronger than they expect. He did seem surprised. But, despite my superior position I still couldn't land the damn stake. His arm came up and blocked my downward strike and then his other simply peeled me off his body and tossed me away. I jumped to my feet instantly and spun back towards his side.
I would have landed the stake right at his heart, but I'll admit, I was having too much fun. I'd underestimated this vampire and he was giving me the best fight I'd had since I got here. I wasn't ready for it to end. My stake slashed down the front of his chest baring muscle and tendons beneath. He screamed, a horrible frightening sound, that under normal circumstances would have made me pause, but I just smiled and slashed another down the side of his thigh.
He collapsed to one knee. His breath ragged. Even though vampires don't need oxygen to survive, when they exert themselves it's damn near impossible not to breathe. Pain also does it. An old human spill-over from when they were alive. Suck in a breath and breathe through the pain. This guy was sucking deep. Silver hurts.
“Just do it,” he said in a low voice.
“What?” I asked, a little incredulous that he'd end this game so soon. “You're still upright, you can fight.”
He growled and then spat some blood out of the side of his mouth. Ni-ice.
We stood there facing each other for a while. When it was obvious that I wasn't going to make it easy for him, he leapt to his feet, gritted his teeth and flew at me. It was a standard vampire attack. Launch and use brute strength. No real strategy. No real plan.
I dropped to the ground on my back and as he flew over top of where I lay, I thrust my stake up into his heart. He burst into dust above me before he had made it a further foot along. I let the dust flow down around me softly, like a welcome blanket of warmth, holding my breath until it all stilled. Then wiped it off my face and took a slow breath in.
What was happening to me? I'd never draw a fight out like that before.
It was the sound of shoes on pavement that made me jump to my feet. I think I would have wallowed there on my back for a bit longer, given the opportunity. But, my sense of sound is keen and although I couldn't see the owner of those expensive sounding shoes yet, I was already prepared to defend myself. Or die trying at least.
I took a quick glance around me and realised I'd allowed myself to be cornered. This was a dead end delivery lane to several of the shops behind the hotel. Stupid. In my need to fight I had failed to take in my environment. A rookie mistake. Something I hadn't made for at least two years now. Nero would be spinning in his grave.
I tried a door handle to one of the premises nearby. Used a little Light to free the lock, only to find it had a deadbolt on the other side. I could shift it, if I concentrated hard enough and had enough time. But neither of those was an option. Time was up and for some reason I couldn't think straight to save myself. Now, I felt little tendrils of fear. Suddenly, I was a tasty meal for the vampire who approached.
I could tell he was a vampire, it's just what I do. A Nosferatin knows a Nosferatu immediately. It's their
Sanguis
Vitam
, it thrums in the air and hums in our mind. This was a high level vampire, no dreg of society like the rogue I'd just dusted. This one had clout.
I was just about to try to scale a brick wall when he entered the lane. Dressed in faded jeans and a black bomber leather jacket. Thick soled biker's boots on his feet and a dark green, almost black T-Shirt hugging his muscular chest. He looked all business. That's the business of taking care of a vampire hunter who strays.
My eyes trailed up the length of his immaculate tall frame and took in a familiar, handsome and arrogant face. I let a breath of air out in relief and then bit my bottom lip to bring me back to reality. If he was here, it was for one thing. And I certainly wasn't going to give it to him.
“You should know better than to play with them, before you end their lives, Ms. Monk.”
He'd found me. After only two months of hiding, Avery Rousseau had tracked me down.
“How did you find me?” I asked as casually as I could muster, dusting off the remnants of the fight.
“It wasn't easy.” Avery stood very still watching me trying to get the last of the vampire dust out of my hair. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, taking in his perfectly trimmed goatee, precisely styled long auburn hair and sparkling hazel eyes. He always looked like he was dressed for a runway or some top celebrity party where the paparazzi would be clicking cameras and taking impromptu - um, posed - shots. “I spent three days in Caracas alone. That was a nice piece of work, Ms. Monk. Shame I saw through the ruse that it was.”
“Took you three days though, didn't it?” I returned, unable to hide the smile at my false trails having got the better of Avery. If only for three days in one city.
He shrugged his shoulders in an elegant wave of muscles. “Caracas was entertaining for other reasons. Maybe my desire to stay there had nothing to do with you.”
“Yeah sure, Sherlock. I just bet.” His eyes flashed a little amber and jade at that retort. Childish, I know, winding Avery up like this. But, there was very little that gave me satisfaction anymore. Sure, staking a vampire was all good. But, the idea that Avery had been fooled by something I had set in motion was more than just satisfying. It made me smile.
I finished getting the vampire residue off me as well as I could. My black outfit was no longer stark black, but more of a greyish black instead. It didn't matter, I had several changes at home. That's about all I had to wear. When I came to South America I had on only the clothes I wore with me. A black short fitted stretchy dress and same length black jacket on top. Michel had bought them for me. And as nice as they were, I didn't blend in. So, butt skimming fitted shorts and a cropped singlet were the order of the day. I didn't really mind, even if I'm a skirt kinda girl, I could fight in this outfit. That's all that mattered.
“So what now?” I asked, checking both stakes were in their pockets and my knife was still sheathed.
Avery's eyes trailed the length of my outfit languidly, hovering over the cropped top and my bare midriff. He didn't say anything about it, just smiled. A hungry predatory smile, that said everything that needed to be said and more.
“How about a drink, Ms. Monk?” he asked instead.
I huffed out a laugh in response. “You asking for a vein vampire?”
“And if I were, would you offer it willingly?” he said in a low voice.
“No,” I answered emphatically.
“Shame,” he replied. “Then perhaps a
Cachaça
. I believe that is the local drink here.”
I just stared at him for a while. He comes all this way, tracks me down and finally finds me after how many weeks? And he just asks me out for a drink, like some sort of demented date? I shook my head in disbelief. I knew he was up to something. I knew what he wanted in the end. But, he was a link to my past. Which if I was honest about it, I was craving. I may have been burying myself in hunting and despatching evil vampires, but I missed home.
Not that Avery had ever been to my home. That's my home in New Zealand. But, he was intimately involved in my life before I came here. He knew Michel. He knew my kindred. And right now I needed that connection badly.
“
OK,” I said slowly. “Just one drink.”
He smiled in response, showing me a row of straight white teeth. Not a fang in sight. The lack of fangs just made me shudder. I prefer it if the predator confronting me doesn't try to hide what he really is. Avery's fangs run on the long side. And they are never really fully
retracted at all.
I took him to
A
Praia
Mocambo
, which was really humming now that night had truly fallen. I could have taken him somewhere else. Not let Gabriel and his dad see my companion. But, I needed familiar ground. And, as Avery was here, I had already said my goodbyes to The Beach Hut in my mind. I'd take one last look around, then ditch Avery and flee. I couldn't stay here now. Rio was no longer a safe hiding place at all. Maybe even Brazil was out, but I wasn't writing South America off just yet. It's a big continent and the
Iunctio
is blind here.
Avery may scare me, but the
Iunctio
scares me more.
We found an empty table in the middle of the rest. A group of intoxicated tourists standing up and leaving mid-drink as soon as we arrived. I flashed a glance at Avery, but his eyes were hazel, no amber or ochre or jade. If he had glazed them to vacate their seats to us, I couldn't tell. I sat down opposite him, but he was quick to move his chair closer to mine. Not right up against me, mind you, but within striking distance. Within reaching distance.
Maria came to take our order. She waits the tables, not up at the bar. Avery asked for a bottle of
Cachaça
and two shot glasses in fluent Portuguese. Better than my bastardised attempts anyway. And then turned his attention to me.
“I like your outfit, Ms. Monk,” he drawled. “But, I prefer the short skirt you usually wear. Such an enticing little number. It hints at what is so readily available for the taking. Your shorts, although hugging your arse rather nicely, are an unwanted impediment to the chase.”
He was trying to throw me off balance. The cruder he got, the more effective it would normally be. Hints and innuendo are Avery's style. But, I've been through Hell and back recently. He may be streaked in evil and have a hell of a lot of Dark within, but he ain't the devil himself. I've met something like
him
and Avery does not compare.
"Fuck off, Avery," I answered with a sweet smile.
Before Avery had a chance to formulate a reply our bottle of
Cachaça
arrived with the two glasses in tow. It wasn't Maria who brought them to us, but Gabriel. And as he placed them down on the table between us with care, his eyes were all for the vampire opposite me. And they were not friendly at all.
“Who's your friend, Luce?” Gabriel asked, not taking his eyes off Avery for a second. I couldn't tell if that was a natural instinct or merely a jealous streak surfacing. Either way, keeping Avery in your sights was a wise move for anyone.
“This is Avery,” I said, about to add something like; an old friend, but didn't get the chance.
Avery turned his attention to Gabriel and in one languid perusal of his competition had him completely sussed. “Her fiancé, you might say,” he offered with a crooked smile.
“I am
not
,” I interjected before Gabriel had a chance to voice his surprise.
“Now, now, darling,” Avery said in his usual drawl, “just because we have had disagreements does not mean I no longer love you.”
I think my mouth hung open for a second before I glared at him wordlessly. There was no point putting up a fight. Avery would only enjoy it more. Besides, I was leaving here tonight. I'd never see Gabriel again. And it was better, safer, if he thought I had left with my
fiancé
.
Nobody said anything for a while. Avery had returned his attention to me, an amused look gracing his handsome face. He'd dismissed Gabriel as non-threatening and made it quite obvious to the human that he no longer cared if he was there or not.
Gabriel stiffened, but all credit to him, didn't run away with his tail between his legs. “You need anything, Luce, just wave, I'll be there. Anything at all.” I saw him clench his fists once at his sides and then he turned and headed toward the bar. I'd no doubt he would watch us. Coming here had been a mistake.
“You do attract the most interesting attention, Ms. Monk," Avery declared, watching Gabriel walk back towards the bar. "An
oculus,
very rare.”
“A what?” I asked.
Avery started pouring the
Cachaça
into the glasses. “An
oculus
, a Norm with the ability to see supernaturals. He can see us, but not perceive what we are. His attraction to you is due to the Light he can sense in your soul. He knows you are not human, but he does not know what you are, other than being good. You are good, aren't you, Ms. Monk?”
I just stared at him and he laughed, a deep rumble in his chest.
“To being supernaturals,” he announced, pushing one of the glasses towards me. He lifted his and raised his eyebrow, waiting for me to do the same.
I hesitated, contemplating how bad an idea it was to even have one drink with this man, then tipped the glass back and downed the alcohol in one hit. Fire hit my mouth and burned down my throat. It took every ounce of self control I had not to cough and gag. But, the sweet warmth that followed was a welcome relief from my pain. The loss and heartache and sadness. I should have been tossing back this poison a hell of a lot sooner.
Avery watched me intently, then just refilled the glasses from the bottle.
“Do you know what has been happening in the world since you departed from it, Ms. Monk?” he asked casually, leaving the filled glasses where they were on the table next to the bottle.
I didn't really. I'd not kept in touch with anyone. Just
Citysider
, or Arthur as he's known to his mates, my London based Nosferatin friend. And that was only when I first came here. I needed some help setting up the false trails. He put me on to some old army buddies of his. Whether or not Arthur had ever been in the army, I didn't know. He's old. Maybe as old as Nero had been and that was close to five hundred years. But, I could also picture Arthur Pencarrow in the military. He just has that look about him.
Since then, I've avoided all contact for fear of being discovered. I'm sure Samson and my other two vampires in my line, Sergei and Nataliya, would have been missing me. But, I couldn't allow myself the luxury of checking. It was too risky. So no, I hadn't known what was happening elsewhere. For at least the past seven weeks anyway.
I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. I had the feeling I was about to be chastised, I don't take kindly to that.
Avery's lips twitched at the edges as he took in my defensive stance. “The portals have widened. More of the Fey have arrived in our realm.”
I just looked at him. Did I really care? I couldn't find it in me to show concern. I certainly couldn't find it in me to feel it either.
“This means nothing to you?” He cocked his head at me, his hazel eyes boring into mine. “More fey means more human deaths.” And vampires, I thought, but kept that to myself. “More fey means more hunting you.” Well, that was hard to not respond to. I shifted slightly in my seat. “Ah,” Avery said, “you are not immune to caring then.”
I am a
mœðr
, apparently, which means mother or mate in fey. I am one of very few human women who are capable of conceiving fey off-spring. As such, I am a potential hot commodity to those fey seeking to father an heir. Fairies have a notoriously low conception rate amongst themselves. Fertility is a huge issue for their kind. It's basically what has fuelled them from the start. Made them venture into out world in search of potential mates. If I bumped into a horny fey, he'd want a little something more than a candle lit dinner and conversation from me, that was for sure.
Then, on top of that, if any fey found me, they would soon provide that information to Lutin, Prince of
Ljósálfar
. Not only am I a
mœðr
, I am also, according to him, his
elska
. Or one true love. A fairy only has one
elska
in their lives. When they find them, they don't give them up easily. Lutin was no doubt hunting me as Avery had been. Hell, I was just one coveted little piece of arse, wasn't I?
Avery started laughing then and I remembered, belatedly, that he could read my mind. Or at the very least, pluck thoughts at random from it. I wasn't sure how extensive his talents came when dealing with me, but he had the annoying habit of trespassing on my thoughts unannounced.
He pushed a full glass across to me and said, still trying to rein in his laughter, “I think you need this one.”
I didn't argue and just tossed the drink back, relishing the burn this time. And the distraction from his knowing smile.
He tossed his own glass back, still keeping his eyes on me, and then refilled the glasses. That was not a good sign. He obviously had every attention of emptying that bottle. I wasn't sure how I would fare. I'm not much of a drinker. Back home, I'd have the odd
Bacardi and Coke
, but never more than two.
Cachaça
is about 48% alcohol.
Bacardi
, watered down with
Coke
, is a walk in the park in comparison to that.
“They will discover your hiding place, as I have done,” Avery continued with the conversation as though it hadn't been interrupted by his eavesdropping on my thoughts and a shared stiff drink. “You are not safe. I could help you.”
Help me? Yeah right, because keeping me safe was right up there with letting me go free. What Avery wanted was to slit my palm and then his own, and clasp our hands together, letting our blood bond us in a joining that would double his power and give the
Iunctio
some of mine. Keeping me safe was not top of the list. Getting my power first would have been.