Kindred (Kindred, Book 1) (36 page)

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Authors: Nicola Claire

BOOK: Kindred (Kindred, Book 1)
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He stumbled backwards, with a look of surprise on his face, so I decided to give him more. I bundled up what hatred he had just created in me by forcing me to have those unwanted feelings, feelings that he could so easily have evoked in me with just his touch and words alone, and hurled it at him. Then followed it up with
disbelief
,
incredulity
,
resentment
,
disgust
and for good measure, so he could see just how much he had hurt me,
humiliation
,
powerlessness
,
fright
and finally
mistrust
. He had asked me once, not to force him to break my trust in him. It seems he hadn't needed my permission after all.

He leaned back against the desk, panting. I hadn't realised I'd followed him as he'd continued to stumble back from the onslaught of my emotions. I was standing right in front of him, not touching but within reach. He looked ashen, slightly clammy. If I hadn't have known better, I'd have thought he was having a heart attack. Of course, vampires can't have those, unless you count the attack on the heart by a stake.

He reached a hand up towards me, I couldn't tell at first if it was in defence or to be a threat, but when he said, “Please,
ma douce
, stop. I am not used to so much emotion. Please.” I realised the hand was to beseech.

I suddenly felt sick to the stomach. I had lowered myself to the level of a vampire and whereas they had an excuse, albeit a bloody flimsy one - being unable to help their basic natures when so aroused - I did not. I wasn't forgiving him what he had just done, he knows better, he has it in him to fight the dark, the evil that exists in all vampires, he just chose the wrong path today. But I was ready to admit though, that he hadn't meant it as a personal attack, it was purely the basic response any vampire would have had and would have had to fight. He had just lost that fight today.

I sunk to the floor on my knees, suddenly so exhausted and bewildered and sad. I guess he was getting
regret
in spades right now, because it was all that I could feel. He knelt down beside me and brushed my hair out of my eyes, stroked my cheek with his thumb, my jaw, then my neck.


Forgive me,
ma belle
. It seems I have much still to learn.”

I don't know why, I guess it was the fact that I had just let such raw emotion run freely through me so unchecked, but I started crying, small tears at first, quickly followed by great big racking sobs I couldn't control. My body shook as the pain washed over me and the tears streamed down my face. He held me tightly, rubbing up and down my back, kissing my face and neck, and murmuring his apologies against my skin. I don't know how long we sat there for, holding on to each other, unable to let go, but eventually I stopped crying. He didn't, however, stop apologising for quite some time more.

I may not have been angry at Michel any more, I did understand what a vampire was like after all. Even if I couldn't completely forgive him for not successfully fighting this dark side of himself today, I was however, unequivocally angry with Nero. What did he think he was doing? He had to have known what Michel's response to the scent would have been. He had to have known what danger he was putting me in. Why had he done it?

Michel had still been holding me, he had stopped apologising, he had even stopped kissing me, he was just holding on to me as though he thought he would lose me altogether if he let go, his head resting on my chest, his breath warm against my skin. I'm not entirely sure I wanted him to let me go either, despite what had just happened, the thought of being anywhere else, other than in his arms right now, was an impossibility. My basic need to be close to him over-rode all other thought or emotion. Why did being joined to a vampire have to be so hard?

“Why now,
ma douce
? Why does he wish to train you now?”

His question surprised me, because I hadn't even realised he was gearing up for one, he'd been so still for so long, it came right out of the blue. I also know he knew the possible response he could have received to that question now. The man had guts or was just plain stupid. Actually, I'm thinking single minded and downright determined, stubborn even, maybe obstinate. But there was no avoiding what I had come here for, so I swallowed any negative emotion his question stirred within me and relaxed my suddenly rigid stance.

“He told me about the
Cadre of Eternal Knights,
Max had belonged to them, they are hunting Nosferatin to join with, to give them the power to take over all vampires, humans, the world.” I thought the best chance of getting Michel on board now was to make it sound really bad for every supernatural, including himself.
The world
kind of covered that. “There's a large community of Nosferatin in Egypt, where Nero is from, they have several mature and a couple of immature Nosferatin. The
Cadre
is targeting them.”

The moment of truth. Michel hadn't moved, hadn't shifted at all, he was simply waiting for me to get to the hammer blow, which he undoubtedly knew was coming. “They want our help in fighting the
Cadre
, they don't believe they are strong enough on their own.” Maybe if I appealed to his strength this would work. A vampire hunter's got to try, hasn't she?

He sat back and leaned against the base of his desk, still keeping one hand holding one of mine, his blue eyes swirling flecks of cobalt; but no purple, no amethyst or violet, just beautiful deep pools of blue. “Am I to presume he is Nafrini's kindred Nosferatin?”

I just nodded. “She has hidden it well then.” He blinked slowly, raised a hand to the bridge of his nose and pinched. Do vampires get headaches? “So, he can Dream Walk and he can lay a false vampire scent. What else can this Nero of yours do?” I understood the inference,
this Nero of yours
, he was warning me, letting me know he was aware. Nero was encroaching on what Michel believed was his property and he wanted me to take care. At that moment, I really wanted to take care too.


He can fight, well actually he can really fight. I've never seen another human do what he did, the speed, the precision. It was remarkable.” Hiding what I felt of Nero's skills wasn't necessary, Michel had already sensed my emotions and knew.


He is not human, my dear. Not any more, anyway.”


What do you mean?”


If he is the Nosferatin I am thinking of, then he is close to my age, somewhere around 500 years old. Nafrini is older, 700 maybe more. There were rumours of her joining when I had not long been turned. The world was abuzz with it. The rumours just as quickly disappeared though and since that day, Nafrini has never demonstrated anything other than first level master
Sanguis Vitam
. As I said, she has hidden it well.”

I wondered why? Could it be she just wanted to protect her kindred Nosferatin and the community he held so dear? I couldn't see a vampire that long ago having that sort of compassion, that sort of care for another, especially someone who was in essence human. Vampires have modernised their natures since then. Michel is very forward for his power level status, he does have good in him, although I have had to question that recently. Still, for a vampire he is progressive. He lives in amongst humans and sets rules in his city for others to adhere, making sure humans are not hunted and therefore the vampire not discovered. But, centuries ago, it was different. Vampires still hid themselves, but they were more inclined to satisfy their cravings and to hell with anyone else.

All the while this was playing through my head, I couldn't stop thinking
Nero is 500 hundred years old?
I mean, I had always thought he sometimes sounded a bit old fashioned, but wow, as old as Michel? That was just unbelievable, he seemed so human, so vibrant and alive. Not that Nosferatins aren't when they become immortal upon joining, it's not like their heart stops beating and they don't need to breathe like a vampire when it's changed, but still,
500 freakin' years old!

I guess I had a lot to talk about with Nero tomorrow.

“So, what do you think? Do we help them?”

Michel smiled at me, it was a little more tired than his usual smile, but it did still reach the corners of his eyes.

“What would my Nosferatin like to do?”

I'm sure he was just playing me, buttering me up after such an abominable greeting, but I couldn't help thinking,
yes!
And doing a mental air punch.


I think we should help them. If this
Cadre
group get power they could be unstoppable, they could come here. I don't want them in my city. I think we should stop them before it's too late.”


Then, we shall go to Egypt. I shall contact Nafrini myself.” I knew why he wanted to do that, to send a message that he was the one in control, making the decisions, not me. But all I could think was, I was going to go to Egypt and meet Nero in person. I told myself it was because I just wanted to meet another Nosferatin, one that didn't want to kill me that is, but to be honest, it was all him, I just couldn't help it, I was curious.

Bad, bad, me.

Chapter 25
Ambush

Of course, Michel set a caveat. We would not go until I turned 25, which was only less than a week from now anyway. Nafrini had accepted, I guess she understood that no kindred vampire would wish to endanger their Nosferatin, when only a few days delay would alter the odds in their favour.

So, that left me with five days to fill in. It had been a tumultuous few weeks, I'd hardly had a moment to catch my breath and part of me had felt like my world was spinning out of control. It certainly felt like my world was not my own any more, but I was working through that. So, I decided to return to work at the bank.

Michel was not happy. I'm guessing having his kindred Nosferatin work as a bank teller just didn't sit well with his image or something, but I wasn't budging on this one. I love my job, it centres me. When everything else is crazy and unpredictable, counting coins settles my soul.

It was late on my first day back, about four in the afternoon, so I was in the mad rush of business banking that happens right before close. No shop owner wants to leave all that cash on their premises overnight, so the last hour before closing was always frantic for me. I loved it. I was so busy that I hadn't even noticed him. I have no idea how long he'd been sitting there, but he looked comfortable, relaxed. Reclining in one of the bank's trendy, but can't-possibly-be-comfortable bright blue chairs. He made it look like a luxurious bed, the way he lounged out in it. His long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, his arms behind his head as he watched me. Very comfortable indeed. But then, when had Nero ever not looked at home?

He smiled when my eyes finally saw him, that dazzling and wicked smile, all bright light laced with sinful deeds. I fought a blush and thankfully succeeded. I really had to stop acting like a lovesick teenager. But, it made the last quarter hour very difficult indeed. I found myself having to count customers' deposits two, even three times, my mind was so distracted by the presence of him. So I didn't finish bang on five and my usually pleasant and friendly customers had begun to get frustrated at my slow pace and distracted conversation. By the time I balanced my float and had put it away in our large safe out the back, I was frazzled.

I couldn't see him when I came out from the staff room, changed ready for the jog home. Of course, he was waiting for me on the street when I exited the bank, that same sexy smile gracing his perfectly chiselled face.

“I shall walk you home, Kiwi.”


I like to run.”


Even better. Your training can start now then.”

When I said I like to
run
home
I had meant a leisurely jog, following a direct path to my front door, but Nero had other ideas.

After we had been running at an alarming speed for 35 minutes, I began to think that Nero's idea of training was probably going to be different from mine. I can run long distances, I'm fit, I won't deny it. You have to be, to fight the never tiring, super strong, deadly killing machine that is the vampire. So 35 minutes is still a walk in the park, even at the speed that Nero had been insisting. I had passed that stage where your body burns and screams out obscenities at you and entered the dull but reassuring ache afterwards, sure that I could keep going, if I didn't push myself. Unfortunately, for Nero, the first 35 minutes had only been a warm up and now the real running began. I was covered in a nice layer of sweat by now and a little annoyed I had a pack on my back. I had tightened the straps to stop the never ending bounce of it against my back and hips, but it was hot and clingy and the sweat pooling there was surely going to ruin it forever. You just can't throw a backpack in the wash.

We'd made it to Meola Road and I could see Western Springs Park coming up. I got a sudden surge of hope, maybe we were going to stop there, it would be a good area for further training and I could catch my breath. I knew I wasn't at my limit yet, I still had ample strength to get me home, but it was hot and I was sticky and I really needed to pee. Nero however, didn't even pause. I watched with dismay as we passed the pond and ducks, and then with mounting anxiety when the public toilets sped past and then we were on the footpath again, heading west.

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