Kindred (Kindred, Book 1) Read online

  I rolled away, grasping my side, trying to stop the racking coughing from tearing my already tender ribs further apart. Finally after several minutes, I managed to control myself and slowly sat up.

  It took a moment for me to get my bearings. There was still a low level humming in my mind, the last of the vamp's Sanguis Vitam seeping into the night, but there was no other indication of power in the vicinity. I took as deep a breath as I could manage, then hauled myself over to the blonde.

  She was coming round, groaning. There was a slight mark on her neck, not deep, he hadn't managed to fully penetrate. Thank God. “You'll be all right now,” I said. She opened her eyes and looked at me.

  “Who the hell are you?” she demanded, speech a little slurred.

  See, here's the thing. When a vamp glazes you with his gaze, he can have you thinking any number of things. Hell, he could make you jump off the Harbour Bridge if he wanted to, but most of the time, they're not that inventive. It's usually a vision of utter happiness, if they're kind, or in Sweetie Pie's case, a feeling that you're drunk and just having a quiet moment in the alley to yourself. Waking up and finding a dishevelled female leaning over you is not the most pleasant of visions, even if you think you're smashed.

  I pulled back. “There's a taxi stand down the street by McDonald's,” I said, indicating the direction with a nod of my head. “You fell over, must have been a good night, huh?”

  She struggled to her feet, still glaring at me, but started to take a shaky step away. I wanted to reach out and help, but vampire induced psychosis is not something you can easily get involved with. The glazing just doesn't allow it. She'd be all right though, no real harm done.

  Me, on the other hand, I ached. From head to toe. I haven't been that badly beaten up for months. This was going to take some getting over.

  I dusted down my skirt and straightened my blouse. No rips, cool. And was just reaching for my stake and knife when I heard the humming and felt the low level power of a baby vamp nearby. Only young, less than 50 I'd say. Easy on any ordinary night, but tonight was shaping up to be unusual. You never knew.

  I spun around to face it, stake out and knife ready to go. Shane Smith walked round the corner of the alley and stood ten metres away. He smiled his shy smile and thrust his hands deep into his pockets. His shock of white curly hair caught the glint of a street light, his pale features in contrast to his black attire, regular wear for members of Michel's inner circle.

  “Hey Shane,” I said as I sheathed my knife and pocketed my stake. “What's up?”

  Shane had been turned no less than thirty years ago, by none other than Michel Durand, the Master Vampire of Auckland City. He was now serving his time as Michel's gopher, the vamp who took messages and parcels where they needed to go. He was a weakling, as far as vamps go and always would be. But I liked him, I couldn't help it. I felt sorry for the guy. Who knew you had to give up your soul and live for ever like a doormat when offered life for eternity. He was a sorry excuse for a vampire, but he meant no one any harm.

  “The Master wishes to see you,” he said with a small tentative smile.

  I sighed. “Now Michel knows I'm not one of his puppets to order around, so why don't you just go and tell your Master that I'm kind of busy tonight.”

  “Aww, come on, Luce! Ya know I can't return to him without ya, he'd have me for dinner, he would.”

  Unfortunately, as melodramatic as that sounded, he would. Michel might be one of the nice guys, but he was a Master Vampire in charge of a city, albeit a city in the antipodes, he had to be strong and ruthless when it counted. I had no doubt Shane would clob it for my refusal to attend.

  Another sigh and another subconscious flattening of my skirt and shirt. “OK, let's go see the Master,” I said as I strode past him into the night.

  Chapter 2

  Master Knows Best

  Michel owns a number of night clubs and bars throughout the city. All the Masters of Cities throughout the world seem to be into the same business. I guess it's easy to conduct your affairs from an establishment that only gets going after it's dark. The one Shane led me to this evening was called Sensations. If I didn't know it was vampire owned, I'd have liked it. It had a certain charm and was very subtle in its overtures towards the night life. And I'm not talking your average club scene either. Some of the bars around, even ones Michel owns, are a bit camp, to say the least. It's a surprise vampires aren't out of the coffin yet, everyone seems to be into fang right now.

  Fantasy at it's best. Unfortunately, I know better.

  Sensations was just off K Road; Karangahape Road to those from out of town. But not down the red light end of the street, up near Queen Street and the more reputable establishments. It had an ornate plastered concrete façade painted in black, with large double sided dark wooden doors. The windows were all blacked out and the overall effect, far from being too dark and foreboding, actually gave off the appearance of sophisticated chic.

  There was always a bouncer on the front door, tonight it was Bruno. Yeah, clichéd I know, but that's his name, has been since well before the Napoleonic Wars. He wasn't one of our allies, that was for sure, I somehow doubted that he was even one now. All muscles and broad shoulders, he was an impressive sight. Of course, that's the point of a bouncer, isn't it? To intimidate, but to also look damn fine in their tight fitting black jeans and tee. Bruno wore it well.

  He nodded to us both as we passed the queue to get in and turned to open the door. “Lucinda Monk, long time no see.” His sharp eyes made a slow graceful trip from my head to my toes, then back up again. “Good to see you.”

  His smile didn't fool me though, Bruno wasn't one I'd like to meet alone in an alley. Not exactly a bad guy, but not OK either. I never put my back to Bruno if I could help it.

  “Yeah right, Bruno. Wish I could say the same.”

  See, that's me, all bad attitude. Scare the boogie men off with my smart mouth. That'll work.

  Inside the club was all plush upholstery, lush furnishings in muted colours, dark wood, not imitation, but the real stuff, heavy but sleek. Smoking's not allowed in public premises any more, they made that illegal some time ago, thankfully. So it didn't have the old world feel of smoke filled rooms and sweat soaked people. The air conditioning was on and although not super cold, it was cool and pleasant. That's Michel for you, creates a pleasant environment even in a place where you intend to get drunk.

  The place was of course packed, any establishment owned by Michel would be. Especially if he was known to be in attendance and I didn't doubt for a moment that the people here knew just that and hoped to catch a glimpse. Michel was the bachelor of the city. Everyone wanted a piece of him.

  They could have him, for all I cared. I just wanted to go home and take a steaming hot shower and ease my aching body into bed. It had been a hellishly long night.

  Shane walked straight past the people milling around the comfortable couches and sitting at the cosy two seater tables, past the first and main bar, to a door marked private at the back. He punched a number into the security control, careful to hide his hand movements from any prying eyes. Couldn't have the master's privacy interrupted by an over enthusiastic groupie. And then he held the door open for me without making eye contact.

  Hmm, what's he trying to hide? Never good when the nice ones couldn't even look you in the eye. I squared my shoulders and marched down the long, thin hall. My feet didn't make a sound on the plush carpet, but I knew Michel could tell I was here. Hell, I could feel him, no doubt he could do the same back.

  I didn't bother knocking on the door to his office. Shane had stayed back by the door to the bar area, hadn't even bothered to follow me to Michel's door. Sensitive much, Shane? I shook my head to clear the thought and turned the handle to the door in front of me.

  Power rolled along the floor and caressed up my body, sending tingles through my centre and goose bumps along my arms. I don't know how it is for others like me, but I've always been able to j
udge a vampire's age and level by their Sanguis Vitam. Michel is about as high up as they go, a level one Master. There may be stronger vamps out there, but I doubt it. Michel is as big as it gets here in New Zealand anyway, I've yet to meet a vamp who comes even remotely close.

  I swallowed visibly and pushed past that wave of pure, unadulterated joy Michel's Sanguis Vitam had over me and strode into his lair.

  “Knock it off, would you!”

  “Ah, Lucinda, ever the lady I see.” Michel smiled wickedly, his lush voice curling around my stomach and his vivid blue eyes trailing over my face. Devouring every feature, as though he was starved for a glimpse of me. “I thought you may have missed me and needed a little reminding.”

  “Very funny, Michel, but could you can it for a bit? I can hardly draw a breath.” The only way to deal with a vampire is to be direct, anything else and they take it as an invitation to play. Playing with Michel was not a good idea.

  Instantly the power that had enveloped me, stroked me and whispered sweet nothings against the sensitive skin at the side of my neck was gone. I missed it already.

  In its absence Michel was looking at me intently. He wasn't breathing, sometimes they do that if they forget to cover, or can't be bothered. I guess Michel and I were past that pretence, I knew he was a vampire the moment I met him. Likewise, he knew what I was. I only wish he'd tell me sometime.

  “You are hurt,” he said and was suddenly in front of me reaching for my cheek. I hadn't even seen him move. I mean not a flash, a sound, a sensation. Not a thing. Whoa.

  He stroked the side of my face, tracing the bruise lightly that had started to puff out and stretch my skin. His hands hardly touched me, but left a searing sensation. Not pain, but something else, as they traced the marks on my face, neck, arms and down the sides of my body, to rest on either side of my hips.

  It's not often he catches me by surprise, I've got good at anticipating his moves, but he's not usually this out rightly obvious in his affections for me. Flirts a little, sure, but to be so intimate, so quickly upon my walking in his office was new even for him.

  I realised I'd been holding my breath. I slowly let it out and as I did I also noticed I was no longer sore. There was a dull ache, a sense of fatigue that had been there before, but the pain on my cheek and in my back had gone.

  “Wh..what did you do?” I stammered. Go the smooth talker, me.

  Michel visibly shook himself, just a small movement, but he was breathing again, human looking, almost. He took a step back and smiled. A coy smile that managed to light up the deep blue of his eyes. It was shockingly mesmerising.

  “You were hurt, my dear. I could not have that.” Each word was articulated perfectly, as though he was fighting not to let his French accent show, straining to remain very English.

  “You heal people now?” It would be good to know, if I ever found myself in a similar situation, or worse, like I had done tonight.

  “Only when the desire is strong, it would seem.” I'm not quite sure what he meant by that, but I let it go.

  He moved back around the other side of his desk and slid down into his seat. A smooth movement, like a sleek cat reclining in the sunshine. Of course, there'd be no sunshine for Michel, if he could help it. Vampires don't like the sun, it tends to give them a fatal sunburn.

  His eyes hadn't left me. Actually I had the distinct impression they were still devouring me, but I chose to ignore that too. It didn't pay to let the mind wander on those trains of thought, best to stick to business.

  “So, you requested my presence. Here I am.”

  He smiled, this time it was full of an amused knowledge, as though my presence here was nothing but expected, a foregone conclusion. With the smile his eyes lit up like a shining light, all shades of blue possible, swirling together in an hypnotic movement that made me struggle to pull my gaze away.

  “Have a seat, my dear. We have much to catch up on.”

  I'd rather stay standing, somehow remaining on my feet so I could make a quick getaway seemed prudent. But it's difficult to argue when you're so tired you're actually swaying. Besides, Michel was not one to take no easily. I had first hand knowledge of that.

  I threw myself into the overstuffed armchair opposite his desk and felt my body relax at the luxuriant feel of the upholstery and softness of the padding. It was made to fit my body.

  He must have noticed, because he tried to hide a smirk by reaching for a bottle of wine on his desk and pouring two glasses, which I hadn't even seen until that moment. He stood up and came around the desk to offer me one. No reaching over obstacles for this guy, nothing but the height of manners would do.

  I took a good look at him as I accepted the offered glass, no longer befuddled by his power. I allowed my eyes to trail the length of his beautiful body as he turned back towards his seat. At 6'2” he was all lean muscle and tall, tightly coiled, controlled strength. His shoulder length dark brown, almost black, hair shone in the low lights of the room. It always seemed to catch my attention, no matter how hard I tried not to notice its beauty. His profile was chiselled. Firm jawline, high cheek bones, long lashes that swept his face and a straight, almost regal, nose. All giving the appearance of strength and power, wrapped up in a oh-my-god handsome façade.

  He wore a dark expensive Armani suit, almost black, but not quite. The staff may have to wear black, but the Master gets to diversify. The jacket was made to fit perfectly, he had it unbuttoned with a white Pierre Cardin shirt showing, gold cuff links at each wrist and a sleek dark blue pinstriped tie. The tie was slightly loose, that would be the extent I had ever seen Michel allow himself to slum it where his clothing was concerned. He looked every inch the self made millionaire bachelor. Handsome, intelligent, at ease. I could appreciate the package, even if I didn't want to undo the wrapping.

  He inclined his head, as if to say, you done? You could never surprise a Master of his level.

  I'm a big girl now, I resisted the urge to blush.

  “So, what did you want to catch up on, Michel?” I said as I sipped my wine. Cabernet Sauvignon, no doubt from his own winery. I didn't know for sure, but I couldn't help thinking Michel was one of those characters out of a fantasy novel. Accomplished, sophisticated and omnipresent. The truth was a little more realistic. He bit people to drink their blood, otherwise he would grow weak and die. I kept reminding myself of that whenever my mind decided to take a vacation from reality.

  He sipped his wine and asked, “How was your evening?”

  I had to smile then. “You're asking me about my evening?”

  “I would like to know, my dear, that you are well and happy. I'll start with your evening and then progress from there. Or perhaps you would like me to - how do you say? - cut to the chase? If so, then why not come a little closer, there's room enough for two on my chair.”

  The last was said with that knowing smile he so often wore in my presence, the words wrapping out to surround me, making a shiver run down my spine. He could tell it was taking all of my self control and whatever supernatural blocking power my body possessed to refuse the invitation. Man, he was playing for keeps tonight.

  “Very funny. It was eventful, how was yours?”

  “Eventful, how?” He didn't even bother acknowledging my question.

  I put my glass of wine down on the desk, careful to stand it on a placemat that happened to be waiting in exactly the right spot. “I killed three vampires who were preying on innocent lives. One was a level four Master.”

  “The bruises and fractured rib.” He said it as a statement, not a question. How had he known a rib was fractured, even I wasn't sure of that?

  He looked momentarily distracted, not his usual controlled self. “Is there something you're not telling, Michel? What's with all the activity lately? The lack of manners on your turf?”

  His eyes flashed a strange purple, as though the blue was fighting the red that glows when vampires are emotional; be it anger, hunger, lust or pain. Someone was encroaching
on Michel's turf, but who would be so bold? And reckless.

  He shifted, a small movement, barely noticeable, but I was finding myself more and more in tune with Michel's minute mannerisms lately, a development I was trying fervently to ignore. The slight repositioning of his body made me think he had suddenly decided something, made a choice and I would soon benefit from that change of heart. “What I am about to tell you must not leave this room, Lucinda. Do you understand? Not even to your shape shifter friend and his kin.” His Sanguis Vitam was climbing again, caressing my skin, but not as beautifully as before, this time it crackled with hidden meaning; small pinpricks of pain scattering up my body, stealing my breath.

  I swallowed, I knew what Michel was capable of, even if part of me believed he'd never use it against me. Another part, that insistent voice that never stopped its internal monologue, kept saying quietly, run.

  “Of course,” I answered, but it wasn't in my usual voice, there was a slight crack. It was also a little too high. Damn it, I hated him seeing me weak.

  The power abated abruptly and he sat back slightly. A look of regret briefly touching his perfect features, to be replaced with the neutral mask he usually wore.

  “There has been some rumblings in the Iunctio of late. At first I thought nothing of it, but it has traversed the seas and landed upon our shores. A group of vampyre who flout the rules, who wish to take over the night completely.”

  He couldn't mean what I thought he meant, could he? I didn't dare say a word, he did not look in the mood for interruptions, so I sat still as a statue waiting for him to continue.

  “The revolt was thwarted in London, a similar one barely got started in New York. I had thought we were far enough from the centres of power to avoid attention, but it seems even I cannot keep some things hidden from the Iunctio.”

  The Iunctio Michel was referring to, was the vampire connection all vampires felt to one another, it was also their governing power. Not just a network as such, more like an information highway. A bit more sophisticated than tom-tom drums and a whole lot more supernatural. Somehow they communicated as a whole to one another. You could hide things from the Iunctio, you could drop out for a time, but sooner or later, if you're the undead, you hooked up to the mainframe so you knew what was hot and what was not. The Iunctio rules the vampires. It is their law.