Giver of Light (40 page)

So close.

So close.

So close.

Just as I felt the sting of the needle on the side of my neck, I let my Light go. And all hell broke loose.

The square was shrouded in a thick black blanket of Darkness, her presence a tangible weight on our chests, even Jonathan faltered and fell back. His arms leaving my shoulders, the needle, having not been depressed, hanging loosely from the puncture mark at my neck and my own hand losing contact with his skin. It was too late to stop my Light, it spread from me to Jonathan, as though along a stretchy cord between us, the cord getting longer and longer and longer, and then he fell backwards from me and I fell backwards from him, the crushing weight on our chests getting ever heavier, but despite the growing distance the cord held true. It didn't break, it remained strong and my Light blasted down the length of it and slammed right into Jonathan's chest.

I struggled to breathe against the Dark that had blossomed around us. I couldn't think of a thing to do to battle it, to make it go away, but I was immediately conscious of the connection between Jonathan and me. No longer the cord that had stretched and held true, but a line just the same, similar to what I had with Samson, but not as strong, not as intimate, not as close.

This was more of a sense of awareness, as though I would always know where he was. Not necessarily what he was feeling, he didn't belong to me, but that he was connected to me in some way. Not like Samson. Not like Michel. But, still connected, still drawing on me, although it was difficult to ascertain why.

It frightened me. When something strange and unknown pops up in your face, it's hard to stop yourself from running away. Some people poke at it, prod it, test it, to see what it is, others hide and flee and cover their heads in sand. Me? I just sat there and felt it all and shook from head to toe in fear.

I knew beyond a doubt that Jonathan was connected to me. Forever.

And didn't that just suck?

Precious seconds passed as the Dark got heavier and closer and my breathing all but non-existent. This was it. How could we fight such an entity, such a power? It was so black, so dense, so thick and so strong. Darkness everywhere. Was this what would become of the world? An evil stench reeking through the ether, wrapping around our throats, constricting our breathing and controlling our movements.

I tried to roll over, to move a limb, to grasp my sword and prepare to defend myself against the coming death, that slowly stalked me, like a hungry tiger through the underbrush of an empty urban wasteland. There was no sound, I couldn't hear Michel, but I could still feel him, down the Bond. She couldn't take that from us. So, even in death we would be connected. I could feel his fear, his pain, similar to mine. And his despair. All of it laced with a love so blinding, it was brighter than light. Brighter than the sun.

I tested my other connections. To Samson, who was there, also fighting a losing battle, also scared, but determined to struggle, like us, until the end. Then, because there really wasn't anything else to do, while I waited for her to finish playing with us, tormenting us, I tested the new connection to Jonathan. As expected, I could feel him, not like Michel or Samson, I couldn't tell if he was fighting, or scared, or had expected this and just rolled over to die, but I could feel the Dark in him and for a moment, I didn't comprehend what it was that I actually felt. That it was different from before. That it had changed.

Given more time, I probably would have figured out the difference, but I had other things on my mind, like the heaviness that was cracking my ribs, the fact that I hadn't drawn a breath for at least two minutes. And the knowledge that this was soon to end.

I felt so useless. So much for being the Saviour of the World. Where was my noble steed? Where was my shout of victory? We were losing and it was all my fault.

Although encased in a black nothingness, a Darkness so all consuming, I began to see spots of white light before me eyes. I knew it wasn't a stray moon beam, or the flash of a street light, this was the onset of unconsciousness, the last bastion of a brain firing randomly, electrical impulses flaring spasmodically, as one by one, everything shuts down.

This was it and man, it sure as hell happened a lot quicker than I had thought it would. I had at least expected to face off against her, woman to goddess, Nosferatin to Queen. I thought at least I'd get the chance to look her in the eye. But, no such luck, we had never stood a chance, she was always going to be stronger, faster, Darker, than us. My fate, my destination along that path through life, was always going to end here.

Why had Nut even bothered to give us hope, if this was the end point all along?

Strange. I thought her incapable of playing games, but if this was how it was supposed to end, then what had Nut been doing, other than playing a wicked game?

Sometimes I wonder, really, whether I am worthy of Nut's faith, because I seem to be so ready to accept her failings. And right when I think all is lost and I'm pondering the most horrible and awful thoughts about my goddess, she appears, like all good deities should. I felt her in my mind, a brightness that brought relief. I took the first breath in I had managed in some time and felt the dancing spots of white shimmer a little, fade a little. I even felt my hand shift at my side.

I thought she might talk to me, scold me, urge me to fight. At the very least, I thought she'd bathe me in Light. But nothing as obvious as that happened, it was more of a
hey, I am here with you, now what are you going to do?
kind of thing. Not that she said it in so many words, it was all really just me. My mind wandering, repairing, fighting. Maybe she wasn't here at all, who knows what the mind manifests when bordering on extinction.

What
was
I going to do? Not lie here and become fodder for the Darkness, that was for sure. I couldn't move properly, I could still hardly breathe, but I could call my Light. It was still strong inside me, unaffected, untouched by the Dark. I did feel a little stupid then, I mean, why hadn't I called on it before? I brushed that admonishment aside and pulled my Light together. No time for something pretty, just a collection of all that power, that brightness, that Light and then one great big explosion from inside me, to wash away the Dark.

At first it just blinded us, the whole square became bright white light, then a sonic boom followed, shattering windows around the periphery, making bench seats come unhinged from the pavers and tumble backwards and away. All the leaves on the nearby trees, providing Norms a little shade in the heat of the day, lost their grip and scattered in the wind, a flurry of greens and browns. And then the branches creaked with movement, as the Light blasted past. Even good can be destructive when it has to, even Light can cause a shit-load of mess.

I sprang to my feet in a crouch and took in my surroundings. The vampires around me groaned in pain, writhing on the ground and I'm not entirely sure, but maybe in a little pleasure too. I didn't want to look too closely at that response and anyway, I was too busy trying to find her. She had retreated, but not vanished, just licking her wounds and no doubt, preparing for a counter attack. I hadn't scared the evil bitch off, I'd only bought us a reprieve.

Michel was beside me in the next second, flushed, eyes shining and bright. He grabbed me in a rough embrace, his lips claiming mine as my body crushed against his chest. His hands all over me, in possessive motions, his tongue making a quick path to the back of my throat and if he had his way, I was sure, his body would follow, he seemed intent on climbing right inside.

“Michel,” I squeaked, as he lifted me off the ground, wrapping my legs around his hips, his excitement obvious at having survived the attack, or maybe just the Light I had blasted him with. Or even the fact that he had denied himself when we had been in the shed, all catching up with him, so that now, he seemed crazed and horny and completely unable to control himself.

“Cut it out!” I managed as I pushed against his chest.

He laughed in delight at my response and slowly lowered me to the ground, but didn't let go, just held me loosely in his arms and looked down with such love and wonder. So, some control still left there then. Good to know.

We stood still amongst the recovering vampires for a moment and just when I sensed some form of rational thought returning, the flash of realisation that we weren't out of danger just yet, he stilled. Pain washed over his face, so raw and urgent and he thrust me away from his body as the tip of a sword protruded from his chest, right above his heart. He collapsed to his knees, a look of shock now mingling with the pain across his face.

I screamed and reached for him, but Jonathan just pushed him out of the way. I watched, in slow motion, as Michel's body tumbled to the side, the sword still lodged right through him, not killing him, but immobilising him and racking him in pain. I couldn't tell if he was still conscious, I couldn't believe you would stay awake for such an ordeal and then I had my hands full fighting off a rabid vampire with nothing more than my fists.

Somewhere along the way, I had lost my Svante and although I had stakes and silver knives and daggers on my person, Jonathan was relentless in his attack. His fangs were down and his snarl filled the now still air. I had no idea what Michel's vampires were doing, I could only presume they were fighting Jonathan's men, but all I could think was
we don't have time for this, we don't have time for this, we don't have time for this,
over and over and over again.

I blocked out all thought of Michel and how injured he was. He was alive and for now that had to do. I just worked on fending off those fangs. Maybe Jonathan had had enough of trying to drug me and just wanted to drain me dry, it certainly looked like that was the sole purpose left in his undead life. His jaw snapped like a Taniwha at my neck, his fingers clawed at the skin on my arms, he moved with supernatural speed which I barely had the energy to avoid and still I knew this was a waste of time. She would return and all of this fighting was irrelevant, ridiculous, a waste of friggin' time.

“Stop it!” I shouted between dodging a blow to the side of my head and rolling over debris from my Light blast. I could feel something sharp and hard break the skin at my shoulder and dig right in as I rolled over the top of it. It felt like it had sunk right down to bone, but when I pulled it way, it came straight out, just leaving a gaping hole for blood to ooze out of and drip down my back. My arm immediately lost all feeling and hung limply at my side.

“Stop what?” Jonathan growled in response and leapt towards my weaker side, grabbing my arm and spinning me around in a circle, then letting me fly free through the air to crash against a rubbish bin. The bin went flying, surprising it was still there after my Light blast and I lost all breath from my lungs.

I struggled to get up and managed a half hearted movement, only to collapse back down on the ground. Jonathan walked over slowly and loomed above my prone body, his fangs glinting in the light from a street lamp nearby. I looked up at him and thought, what the fuck? This is not how it is meant to end. Where's the Dark I'm meant to be battling? Jonathan had as much Light in him as Dark, he was evenly balanced, he shouldn't even be getting this aggressive. What the fuck?

What the fuck?
I did a double take of Jonathan's aura, used my
Sanguis Vitam Cupitor
powers to assess what Dark there was. He crouched down next to me and reached out a hand. I cringed automatically, but when he ran his fingers over my cheek, it was so soft, so gentle, so caring – so different from the feral fangs and supernatural tossing of before.

“Are you all right, sweetheart?”

I just stared at him, at his Light, at his Dark. At the balance that now lived within. He was neither good nor bad, Dark nor Light, he just was. Any choice to act one way or the other was an intelligent one, not a decision based on the amount of evil or virtue within.

“You're not all Dark,” I said, rather lamely.

He shook his head at me, clearly not understanding what the hell I was going on about. I was having a hard time figuring it out too. Somehow Jonathan had changed and the only thing I could put it down to, was my Light. The Light I had sent out with the intent of banishing the Dark. I hadn't been able to keep skin contact, but I had fashioned it and cast it as though I had, so it had been different from every other time I had tried to use my
Lux Lucis Tribuo
powers in the past. It had been more.

I let a short breath out in astonishment. I didn't need to touch each Dark vampire that crossed my path, I didn't need to bring each one into my line. I just needed to act as though I was, to believe in what I was doing, no going back, commit to the moment, as though I had my palm upon their flesh. And in return, they got balance and a choice.

Choose to use the Light. Or choose to use the Dark.

It seemed too good to be true, too easy. Wouldn't the Dark come back in? If their master was all Dark, wouldn't they just keep getting more and more from them?

Jonathan reached for my hand and began to help me to sit up.

“We need to get you out of here, she will return before too long.”

He didn't mention the drug, he seemed more interested in getting me away from the danger, but I couldn't help feeling that the drug would make another appearance.

I let him pull me upright, but I had no intention of going anywhere with him. I was just racking my brain for what my next miraculous move would be, when from out of nowhere, a flash of shiny silver caught my eye. I didn't even have enough time to shout a warning, I really don't know if I would have, the words weren't exactly on my lips, but it didn't matter, it was too quick. Master of the City quick.

The sword sliced through his neck and came cleanly out the other side.

“Shit,” I said, swallowing back a little bile, but unable to turn away from the sight of Jonathan's head separating from his body and the inevitable dust cloud that exploded when his
Sanguis Vitam
seeped out into the air.

“I am so sick of that bastard touching my kindred!” Michel exclaimed loudly and with much venom.

"Where did you come from?" I gasped, looking at the bloody hole in his shirt left by Jonathan's sword. "How did you remove that sword?"

"Jett," he replied, eyes fixed on me.

For a moment he just stood there and looked at me. I'm not sure what he saw on my face. Shock, probably. Regret, possibly. Sadness, maybe. Relief, definitely. And then I felt it. The connection that I'd had to Jonathan, springing back to me. All the Light I had given him, washing back inside and the Dark, that I hadn't even known I had been holding, spread out in the air and simply disappearing. I couldn't
sense
it anymore. It simply had left this world.

I think I grunted, or gasped, because Michel was kneeling down next to me smoothing back my hair and stroking my arms and saying something over and over again in French, which I didn't understand.

“English,” I whispered, when the world stopped threatening to spin away.

He said a few more words in French and then abruptly changed language. “What was that?”

“I don't know,” was all I could answer, still reeling from the feeling of all that Dark seeping out of
me
into the night.