Kiss of the Dragon (27 page)

One last squeeze of his hand in mine, and then he let it go and pushed through the door, head held high. I swallowed, rolled my shoulders, fingered a stake in my jacket pocket, and then followed him through to the other side.

Conversation stopped when we entered. The various Councillors all fisting their hands over their hearts and bowing their heads briefly as soon as Michel arrived. In a flash my eyes ascertained all possible threats. Where each vampire was, what their Dark said, who was with whom, and who was hiding from sight. I couldn't sense Michel's shadow guards, and I doubted they were the only ones here, but those vampire guards who lacked the talent to hide their
Sanguis Vitam
as well as themselves in shadows, I could see. Even if they tried to be camouflaged and hidden from sight right now.

The Ambrosia had two vampires with him, both in plain sight, standing at attention along the wall at his back. The Scribe had two as well, both openly watching me - not Michel - and the Keeper had four. Two openly at his back and two more hidden off to our right hand side. Not shadow guards, normal vampires attempting to hide using their
Sanguis Vitam.
I was betting the Keeper also had shadows as well, but those I'd never sense or
see
. Michel had two more guards in here, as well as Alain, so with his shadows that would make five. He is the Champion, he undoubtedly should have the most. So why did the Keeper have possibly more than Michel?

My eyes skimmed the rest of the room and took in Gregor, with two guards and Marcus and Natalyia off to their side. No one else. No Amisi or Sophie. No Matthias or Sergei. Where were they?

Waiting for you in the kitchen, but I need you here. I am making a point.

OK, then.

The Keeper has four guards I can detect, possibly more,
I told him.

Silence from Michel for a lengthy second, then
Thank you, I was not aware.

"Have we made progress?" Michel asked the room at large. No hello, sorry I'm late, been shaggin' the missus, you know how it is. Straight down to business. He was in charge.

The Scribe answered. "The ghouls, both here and in Paris, have been reluctant to join our side. We will have to compel them."

I forced myself not to react to his casually spoken words. Ghouls could be commanded by vampires to do their bidding. It was a loss of control I couldn't abide. But ghouls were physically strong beings, having them on your side in a battle was a strategic move. I had helped Michel secure
the cooperation of the Auckland ghouls once, avoiding compulsion and sealing the first ever accord between their kinds. It was a coup I couldn't see being repeated in London. London's ghouls were blood thirsty and anti-vampire to an unbelievable degree. I kind of understood where that hatred came from, no one likes to live under the shadow of a vampire's ability to control your kind. But I truly did not believe they could be won over, like my acquaintance in Auckland, Pete.

As for the Parisian ghouls, I didn't know a thing about them. I'd have to talk to Yves. But I wasn't so naive to believe this was avoidable. If we didn't secure the ghouls, the other side would instead. It was a lose/lose situation. For me there was no preferred path, unless the ghouls joined of their own free will.

"Have negotiations broken down completely?" Michel asked, moving across to a large table the Councillors were surrounding and looking down at a map with shaded areas in red. I took a position off to the side near my guards. I had no intention of being at that table, but I wouldn't sit down with such obvious predators in the room.

"Our ambassadors were chased from the Genie's Bottle, two were attacked and are recovering now in the cellar," the Keeper advised, flicking a pen over in his hand continually. It was a movement meant to look casual; a simple flick of the wrist. But his
Sanguis Vitam
thrummed in the background, and his hidden guards shifted into crouches to the side. The guards openly at his back, remained statue still, giving the appearance that all was quite fine.

There was no way the Keeper would attack Michel here. Not with so many Councillors and their guards in attendance. Not with Michel's guards also here, as well as two of mine. He was trying to goad us. Or maybe just me. Maybe he knew I could sense them and he wanted me to act first.

It was a test, designed for me to fail... and be kicked out.

I took a seat further away from both Michel and the hidden guards and picked up a magazine and began to flick through the pages. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the Ambrosia smile.

"What about Paris?" Michel asked, turning the map so it was facing him, his body was relaxed and for all intents and purposes, completely unperturbed.

"The ambassadors we sent turned up in the Seine, their heads partially cut off," the Keeper continued, showing no sign of disappointment in my behaviour at all. Sneaky vampire.

Wow though, the Parisian ghouls were worse than London's. That was saying something.

"They will fully recover in time," the Keeper finished, checking his nails for non-existent dirt.

"Very well," Michel said nonchalantly. "We will consider this their final answer. Arrange to have them compelled."

I turned the page of my magazine slowly and pretended to read what was rapidly becoming hazy before my eyes. No one would have suspected my anguish at my kindred's words, but him.

"What of the Creator?" he asked in a neutral voice. I knew the Creator was on our side, so he was obviously up to something. I pushed all thoughts of compulsion and loss of the ghouls' rights aside and waited to hear the answer.

The Ambrosia began to speak, something about the Creator having had success in St Petersburg, when all hell broke loose.

One of the hidden guards flew across the room towards me, the other simply disappeared from sight. For a house full of vampires, they were all rather slow to react - completely caught off guard.

Time slowed.

I watched Marcus jump into action and be swatted down by the invisible-disappearing guard. I saw Antonio flicker and appear off to Michel's side. His other guards and Alain surrounding him. Natalyia rushed to place herself between me and the rapidly approaching threat. Every other guard in the room covered their master. Each Councillor protected from an attack not aimed at them.

It all happened so quickly, but everything seemed to be moving so slow.

I was on my feet before he smacked Natalyia aside.

I had my stake up before his hot breath washed my face.

And he was dust before anyone could shout out.

The second hidden guard quickly followed suit, and as the room crackled with
Sanguis Vitam
and dust settled on the floor, I pocketed my stake and sat back down.

My hands were shaking and I thought I was going to be sick, but I was sure as hell not going to show it. I let my Light wash out around me, settling my nerves and reaching out for Michel.

He appeared before me in the next instant. Magenta flashing in his eyes and nothing else.

Ah, crap. Just what we didn't need.

You have to let Michel take control
, I said to the dragon in my mind.

I am still here, ma douce
, Michel answered me.
I am just furious.
Ah, good to know, we were back on familiar ground. Michel's eyes shining magenta when both he and the dragon-within were angry.

I smiled, or at least attempted to, I don't think I fooled him in slightest.
I'm fine, you need to deal with this,
I said softly.

You are not fine, you are shaking,
he pointed out.

I worked on controlling the tremors for a while. The entire room was dead silent, no one moved. And Michel simply stood before me like an avenging angel about to strike. I took a deep breath in and lifted my chin to him, then watched as he closed his eyes briefly, then turned towards the Councillors at the table.

"How dare you?" he demanded the Keeper.

"I had nothing to do with this," the Keeper replied calmly.

"They were your vampires," Michel shot back.

"Says who?" the Keeper asked imperiously.

"Says the
Sanguis Vitam Cupitor
," I replied, stepping to Michel's side and letting my Light wash the room briefly.

The Keeper stilled. Realising, I think, that he had underestimated me and completely forgotten I could
see
vampire's Dark, as well as recognise their masters because of it.

"They were not acting on my orders," the Keeper eventually replied, head lowering.

"I am to believe you now, when you have just lied to my face?" Michel demanded in a low growl.

"It is the truth," the Keeper replied, swallowing thickly, showing his nerves for the very first time.

Vampires can smell a lie, if they are looking for it. I wondered if Michel had smelled a lie on the Keeper right now.

"That is irrelevant," Michel replied in an ice cold voice. "The punishment lies in the offence." Before anyone could blink an eye, Michel had a sword in his hand and had thrust it through the Keeper's throat. Not a death blow, but crippling enough that the Keeper would take a day or so to recover.

I could not have retaliated, the Keeper is an
Iunctio
Councillor. But the Champion could and had. Did I trust the vampire in charge of the
Iunctio's
combined power? No, I most definitely did not. Could I do a thing about it right now? Not a chance. Politics sucked in a big fucking way.

"Leave my house," Michel instructed, withdrawing the sword and wiping it on his trousers, removing the blood, then sheathing it in his invisible scabbard, hiding it again from view. "And do not return until you have secured the ghouls' cooperation."

Not just punished, but given an onerous and dangerous task.

"Do not fail me on this. Are we clear?" Michel asked, eyes still flashing magenta.

"Crystal," the Keeper replied in a gurgle of blood, requiring assistance as he stepped away and almost stumbled. His remaining guards on either side offered much needed support. I thought he could do better than that, what a wuss to show such weakness.

Michel snorted off to my side, but hid it with a growl immediately.

No one said anything until the Keeper had vacated the room, and no doubt the entire house. Then Michel reached forward and punched a number into the phone on the table. A dial tone sounded through speakers on the walls.

"Champion?" came the voice down the line.

"Creator," Michel replied. "You are on speaker phone."

"Hold on," the Creator answered and we heard a static sound and then a clunk as he placed his phone on speaker too. "The Foreteller is also here, we've been expecting you."

Creepy, the Foreteller had obviously
seen
what was about to happen.

"Excellent," Michel replied and then looked up at the remaining Councillors in the room. "We are weakened," he said without pause. "We are split. The
Iunctio
has been compromised. Will you tolerate this?"

A resounding "No!" rang out in the room and from the speakers on the phone.

"Nosferatu are at risk. War will take numbers from our lines," Michel continued. "None of us can bear to lose vampyres. None of us willingly sacrifice our own."

Another round of raised voices, this time all in agreement.

"Even those we believe are trustworthy are testing our weakened defences as we speak." He was referring, of course, to the Keeper's behaviour right now. Michel obviously guessed the Foreteller had already advised the Creator of this fact. "We need all the talents we can muster, we need to rely on all the skills available to us. We need to make ourselves strong when others believe us to be weak. And only then can we strike."

"What do you suggest, Champion?" the Ambrosia asked, but I got the feeling he was playing a role. His question moderated, pre-thought. It was spoken with no inflection at all.

"We are one short on the Council," Michel said and my heart skipped a beat that I frantically covered with my Light. "I recommend we fill it with someone who would be a powerful ally, an asset to our cause."

"Who do suggest, Champion?" Gregor, the Enforcer asked. And I
knew
then, that this had been planned all along. Whether Michel had known the Keeper would act or not - or he even instigated the whole event using the Keeper as scapegoat - I can't be certain. But he had definitely intended to put this plan of his in motion tonight.

Why hadn't he warned me? I could only think it was because he needed my reaction to the Keeper's attack to be genuine. To come from within me and not be contrived. He needed those vampires here to see how I behaved in stressful situations. He was showing me off, without me being aware I was on show.

And he hadn't even given me a day to recover from my Dream Walk coma. I felt incredibly honoured by that fact.

"I suggest," Michel said in a commanding voice, "that we take advantage of an age old alliance. We strengthen our coffers and surprise those who come against us. With power we will shock and awe." He waited a moment for that to sink in and then he turned slightly towards me, his eyes still blazing magenta, his face an inscrutable mask. "I recommend the Prophesied. I ask for a vote tonight."

Silence met his announcement and I thought perhaps he had pushed for this too soon. There was no way the vampires would go for a Nosferatin on their Council. A Nosferatin had never been an
Iunctio
Councillor before. Despite our powers fuelling their coffers. Despite us being kindred to their kind. Despite the fact that we were once of the same ilk. There was no way in hell these vampires, even Gregor, would go for that.

I held Michel's gaze, kept a neutral mask on my face and waited for the outcries of shock to start.

"I vote 'yea'," Michel said softly, his eyes flashing a mixture of violet hues in the room's artificial lights.

"I vote 'yea'," the Ambrosia said and took a seat at his back, looking relaxed and unconcerned with any further voting.

"I vote 'yea'," Gregor said and flashed me a wink. I forced myself not to smile in response, but my heart was singing. I may not have wanted this initially, but if Gregor had voted against me it would have hurt.

Strangely, now that Michel had put it out there and I realised that out of all the Nosferatins I
would
be best suited to do this job, part of me wanted it now. I have understood responsibility for some time. I am the Prophesied to the Nosferatins. With that role comes incredible power, but also incredible responsibility. It took time for me to accept that, but now it's like a second skin. And right now the
Iunctio
was threatened. I may have despised it in the past, but that was before Michel was Champion, before he began washing it in his Light.

Wasn't a Lighter
Iunctio
what I had always wanted? What Natalyia and Sergei had spoken of just a few weeks ago? The
Iunctio
had taken a Dark path under the previous Champion, and had she been allowed to continue on that path, where would the Nosferatins be? I may have had my clashes with the organisation that ruled all supernaturals, but without them my life would be pure hell.

And now, with Michel as the Champion and Light shining on the
Palais
, I could actually see myself getting involved.

And I wanted it. I wanted to call the Dark towards the Light. Even the Dark of the
Iunctio
.

I drew in a slow breath and held it, even if the vampires there could tell I was holding my breath in anticipation, I didn't care. I wanted this now. If they said no, Michel's job would be so much harder. They were already at war with some of their own, they needed the Nosferatins now, more than ever. I would bring the Nosferatins.

"I vote 'yea'," the Scribe said quietly, flashing a brilliant smile in my direction as his powder blue eyes met mine. He'd helped me out in the past, come to my aid when the former Champion had attacked. He earned more Brownie points tonight.

That left the two vampires on the line. I knew neither of them. The Creator was relatively new and the Foreteller scared the hell out of me. My lungs were starting to burn with lack of air.

"I vote 'yea'," the Foreteller said, confirming he'd
seen
this outcome already. He was backing the side his visions had predicted would win, or would bring about a favourable conclusion for the
Iunctio
. It was a ringing endorsement, but not foolproof. His visions were abstract, not always conclusive and required his personal interpretation. What he saw may not be what others would perceive.

Still, it was more than I could have expected and I felt a sliver of hope settle in my heart. I refused to give it too much purchase, anything could happen. How would the Creator vote?

The silence stretched uncomfortably. I felt a trickle of sweat sweep down between my shoulder blades. My stomach was well and truly rolling now, the need to be sick and eat some food were warring unmercifully inside me right then. I was hungry, sweaty and not just a little queasy. A strange and unexpected combination, to be sure.

Finally he spoke, and it was everything I had come to expect from vampires.

"She is not even Nosferatu," the Creator said. "Must I remind you of our laws?" The Creator was the rule maker of the
Iunctio
Council. He wrote Nosferatu - and to a certain extent all supernatural - law. If anyone could see a legal impediment to me being a Councillor it would be he.

"What rule would that be?" the Ambrosia asked from his seated position, his legs crossed at the knee and booted foot bouncing merrily, as though tension wasn't thick in the air right then.

"4.2, page 23 of the Council Charter. 'That all Councillors must be of the Nosferatu'."

Well, that put paid to that. The Ambrosia began chuckling quietly, but didn't say anything, he left that up to Michel.

"Is that the only rule you believe this vote is in transgression of?" Michel asked casually.

"Yes," the Creator replied. "But it is enough, Champion. Surely you can see that."

"I wrote the rule, so yes, I understand it," Michel replied, reminding everyone he once held the position of the Creator for close to four hundred years. "But this vote is not in transgression of it, Creator."

I heard a splutter on the other end of the phone, and then the Creator saying, "Please explain, if you will, Champion."

"We were once of the same ilk," Michel said quietly. "The first vampyre was a Nosferatin returned to existence using his Twin Soul. We all descend from him, who in turn descends from a Nosferatin. To be vampyre, we must accept we
are
of the Nosferatins."

Silence again. Then, "Is this true?" from the Creator.

"Yes, quite true," the Ambrosia said happily. Then added, "The Prophesied is related to us, several times removed. She would, like any Nosferatin, fit the criteria of your rules. Of course, I would not recommend
any
old Nosferatin for the role, but considering she just took out two cloaked vampyres within two seconds flat and didn't bat an eye, I'd say there's more Nosferatu in the girl, than Nosferatin."

I think I did bat an eye, but who was I to argue? I stared at the ancient vampire with a new sense of respect. He was so my man.

"Well, that is, of course, very impressive," the Creator said. "If the rules are satisfied, I can see the appeal." He paused again, but this time for not as long. "I vote 'yea'."