Kiss of the Dragon (2 page)

His Light to her Light

Mixed together through sacred rite

Will create longed-for life.

Fey Prophesy

"We bow before you, Champion. Master, we are your servants evermore."

Stunned silence followed their words. The
Iunctio
Council having just pledged their undying allegiance to my kindred, rattling the walls and weighing down my heart. I was shocked, immobile. Scared shitless.
The
Dökkálfa
were all standing stock still as well, controlled by their new King: Aliath. Their eyes as large as mine. But unlike me they were still ready for battle, their swords and daggers at their sides, hands firmly grasping the hilts, ready to charge at a moment's notice. The vampires present in the
Iunctio
Council Chambers, in contrast, were preternaturally still, taking in the change in leadership or retreating from the fall-out that would ensue.

I continued to breathe in and out, trying to wrap my head around this new change in our circumstances. The Champion, the former one, was dead; dust on the marble floor. She had been a thorn in my side for so long, I felt a little hollow knowing she never would be again. But that wasn't the crux of my problems. Michel was now the leader of the
Iunctio
. Their Champion.
The
Champion. He was in charge of the organisation I despised the most.

Oh dear Goddess, what would this do to him? To
us?

He stood smoothly, in that puppet-on-a-string motion the vampires have, and turned slowly to take in all those around the room. Did he look different? Did the weight of what was now firmly placed on his shoulders change the man I knew? I hadn't realised I'd stopped breathing, but was just staring at him in open consternation. Unable to comprehend what had just happened, what it could possibly mean for us. How life kept throwing curve ball after curve ball at my head.

His eyes found mine, he held my gaze for a second, maybe two, and then he was beside me, wrapping me up in his strong arms, laying feather-light kisses across my cheek. Burying his face in my hair. Relief coursed through me in a tsunami-sized wave. Michel would always love me, always want me, no matter what. I had no idea what this new position would hold, but I was sure he would continue to fight for us. I relaxed in the warmth of his arms and returned the kisses with equal passion.

Then reality came crashing back in and broke my heart.

The portals to
Álfheimr
were still closing, had been since the
Iunctio
started to receive Michel's and my joining power. But now, we could actually feel them slamming shut, one after the other; the sensation of Faerie being successively cut off thrummed through the air of the
Palais.
I'm not sure how we could tell, maybe it was because it was
our
power that was fuelling the closure, but Michel pulled back and rushed to cup my face with both hands, fear and dread evident in his gaze.

"I thought with Sofiq dead..." he said, but didn't go on. I had thought it too. With the Queen of the
Dökkálfa
no more, then the charm she had placed on me would be no more too. The charm that was being activated right now due to the portals to
Álfheimr
closing.

But, we had obviously thought wrong.

As the portals continued to shut, one after the other the fairies in the room stepped through shimmering rips in the air and disappeared. Pop after pop after pop. Michel's hold became frantic, as though tightening his grip on my face would make it impossible for the charm to steal me away. He started shaking his head, whispering, "No, no, no, no," again and again. I blinked away tears, sniffed unattractively... and felt myself being torn from his arms.

The last thing I saw on his face was desperation and then I found myself standing in the centre of the throne room in the
Dökkálfa
Palace. Angry fairies dressed in black in a multitude of coloured skins surrounding me, musical chimes escalating in volume on the air.

I shuddered at the look of hunger and outrage that graced each of their otherworldly beautiful faces and then as they began to come closer I grasped for my Light. One shot and they'd all back up. I pulled it close, getting ready to release it, thinking of nothing but blasting straight through their alien and unnatural selves.

Then Aliath walked through a ripple in space and stood before me. His hair a pure silver shining in the lights of the room, his eyes a vivid green so blinding I had to blink to clear my vision. The fairies all dropped to their knees in supplication as he reached out and threw a veil of something sticky over my head. I realised too late that it was one of those ethereal blankets the
Dökkálfa
had used on Sergei and Nataliya back at the
Palais
. Golden, filigree type pattern, a web of something that contained my Light. Within seconds it had seeped through my shields and I was cut off from what made me the Prophesied.

I slunk down onto my knees, a hollowness that went beyond the loss of my Light replacing all hope inside. Not only was I cut off from Michel, but I was also cut off from my Light.

"Why?" I asked in a voice that sounded so very far away.

"You are a guest in my Court," Aliath replied in a voice full of authority I hadn't heard from him
before. "Your presence here is subject to my hospitality. I deem it necessary to isolate you from your Light."

"I wouldn't use it against you," I said and was surprised I meant it. Aliath and I had a strange alliance, one that maybe was defunct now Sofiq was dead. But I'd honour it, I wouldn't stop honouring it, until I had no choice left.

"That is promising, Princess. But for now this is how it must be."

He turned away, showing me his back without fear I would attack. I was still holding my Svante sword firmly in my grasp, so his cocky confidence was telling. He said a few words in Fey and several
Hyrða
guards rushed forward. Within seconds I'd relinquished my weapons: sword, two silver stakes and a knife. Then they hauled me from the throne room and dragged me down hall after hall. Finally throwing me unceremoniously into a room, making me land hard on the cold stone floor. The door slammed shut behind me and a lock clicked loudly closed.

I rubbed my wrists where they had been strained taking my weight as I fell to the floor and glanced around the room.

"Well, this is familiar," I muttered under my breath, casting an angry glance at the shadows in the corners of the room. The same room Michel and I had occupied the last time we had been held prisoner by the
Dökkálfa
. "Home sweet fairy home."

I took a deep breath in, trying to decipher any lingering scents. There were none that I recognised. It had been months since Michel and I had been held captive in these rooms and his scent was no longer here. My head hung down at that thought, a pain so deep and achingly poignant reached to my very soul. What we had feared most had happened. I was in
Álfheimr
, cut off from Earth's realm, and he was unable to reach me.

I had a sudden hopeful thought.
When Michel had been pulled into
Álfheimr
last time, he'd still been able to send thoughts and visit me in my dreams, albeit briefly due to his diminished strength. I tried now, knowing our connection was that much stronger this time. We were joined kindred again, we had a Bond, there could be no more powerful a connection than that.

Nothing
. Just an empty hollowness that went on for eternity. I shouted in my head, I sent emotions, images, anything I could. I reached out down the Bond connection, I could feel it still existing, still there, waiting patiently for us to use it. But when I did, it simply tapered off into the ether and disappeared. A small, slow teardrop slipped down my cheek. I brushed it away angrily.

So this was how it was going to be? I felt connected to my kindred, but I couldn't use that connection. There was some measure of relief that I could tell the joining still existed at all, but it was short lived every time I automatically sought Michel out and came up with a blank. The portals closing had made it impossible to reach him and I would grow weaker and weaker without him by my side.

And what of Michel? He was now the Champion and was separated from his kindred Nosferatin. This was so not good.

I let a slow breath out and tried to marshal my thoughts. For now, I could do nothing about the separation. But I sure as hell would not believe this was the end. Michel was resourceful, determined when faced with insurmountable odds. His desire to reach me would be unfathomable. He would find a way. Of this I was sure. And I was not without abilities myself. I didn't need access to my Light to be able to negotiate with Aliath. I had learned a lot recently whilst living in London and trying to survive the cut-throat world of vampire politics. What was a fairy compared to blood-thirsty vampires?

I stood to my feet and took a look down at myself. My strappy, stretchy, black cocktail dress was in shreds, coated in copious amounts of my blood, mixed with the blood of those I had slain. I knew I looked a sight. First things first. Get myself presentable, put on a strong, competent façade and then deal with the fairy fuckers who had locked me in this room and stolen my Light.

I managed to run myself a bath, they did have running water in the
Dökkálfa
Royal Court at least. Stripping off the remnants of my outfit I lowered myself gingerly into the steaming water. It smelled of mandarins. Left over bath foam from my last stay here. The familiarity of the scent gave me courage. I scrubbed my face and hands and then more carefully tended to the rest of my body. Although Aliath had healed the worst of my injuries, I was still covered in bruises and minor cuts and scrapes from head to toe.

By the time I exited the water, the foam had disappeared and had been replaced with a pale pink hue. My blood. The blood of my enemies. I quickly rinsed off in clean water and then towelled myself dry. Knowing the shadows had not only ears but eyes, I wrapped myself securely in the towel and walked across the bedroom to the closet. Row upon row of beautifully crafted black, white and grey dresses hung waiting for my perusal. The
Dökkálfa
may have consisted of many different coloured skins, but they all wore a uniform of black.

I wasn't going to be fussy, I grabbed the first dress in the row and began to climb into it. Fairy dresses are similar to something from medieval times. Layer upon layer of material, intricate clasps and buttons, full floor-length skirts and tight fitting bodices. The dress I had blindly picked had a scooped neckline, three-quarter length sleeves and a cinched waist, with a multitude of petticoats sewn into the outfit itself. Once on, it made me look like a Dark Princess. All I needed was to curl my hair and wear a tiara and I'd be set.

I finger combed my hair and left it limp. It hung down to my shoulders now, not quite as hideously short as when I last left this Court, but still not back to its previous and preferred length just yet either. With some impressive contortionist moves I managed to do the buttons up at the back, by the time I finished I was exhausted. I wondered briefly if I was going to have my butterfly fairy maid to assist me on this trip to
Álfheimr.
I was surprised to realise I was looking forward to seeing the
fīfrildi
again. Sora had been a breath of fresh air on my last stay, if she was assigned to me again things would be looking up.

I walked back into the main room and looked around, unsure what to do next. I knew the door was locked, walking freely around the castle was not possible. I was confined to my room and at the mercy of Aliath. Just what would the
Dökkálfa
Grey Lord - no
King
- do now? Leave me to rot? Allow me no company so I may go crazy without conversation? Send for me to be tortured? I really had no way of knowing how he would act. I thought I understood the Grey Lord, well at least, kind of understood him. He had honour and worked by a strict set of rules. He had sworn to protect me, but was that now defunct?

I walked over and sat down on the bed. I'd been here no more than an hour and already I was getting stir crazy. There were no books, nothing to read or do. I could stare out the window and take in the intense colours and vibrant life of
Álfheimr
, but watching it would only make me want to be out in it. I wasn't into self torture. Patience was obviously going to be the name of the game.

Bugger. I was never good at waiting quietly for others to get on and do something. I wondered briefly what Michel would do. He
would
consider this a game, something to master and perfect. He would act as though waiting patiently with nothing at all to do was the one thing he loved above all else. He would make himself comfortable and would pretend to sleep, relax, lower his guard. But instead he would be a coiled spring waiting for the opportunity to attack.

Well, no time like the present to take a leaf out of his book. He had been saying I was capable
of political wheeling and dealing, of
playing the game
. Time to put it to the test.

I had been reclined on the bed, giving the impression of relaxed repose for two hours, when the door clicked unlocked and Sora floated in. The pretty yellow fairy fluttered over the threshold, her large Monarch butterfly-type wings shimmering in such quick movements it reminded me of a hummingbird. The sound of the delicate appendages flapping sent a thrumming through the air. She was dressed in a maid's outfit; black with a white apron over the full skirt. A small yellow butterfly
was sewn into the corner of the apron. A personal touch which made the
Dökkálfa
seem falsely more human than fairy.