Forbidden Drink by Nicola Claire Page B

tell he wasn't happy. I've fought a lot with Nero, side by side against the bad guys of the night and together sparring like I was right now with Erika. And I can tell a lot by the way he holds himself. His arms were now crossed over his chest, his legs spread shoulder length apart, his gaze intense and following every move Erika made. He was sizing her up, looking for a weakness and not impressed she was pushing me to this level. Not impressed at all, that she was using the opportunity to beat me to a pulp.
    For me, there was no going back. I had committed to this to the end. I was not going to show fear. I was not going to give an inch. I would fight this to the bitter conclusion, which I was becoming more and more aware, was going to be me unconscious on the mat.
    Finally, Nero must have had enough, because I caught the glint of his silver stake as it appeared in his hand and watched out of the corner of my eyes as he stepped onto the mat.
    “No,” I breathed out between clenched teeth. “Stand down.”
    Erika cocked her head. “Stand down? Why would I do that, Nosferatin, when I am winning?” Of course, she couldn't see Nero Dream Walking, she had no idea who I was talking to. I just shook my head and kept focusing on warding off her blows. Nero had heard though and reluctantly nodded his head and stepped back off the mat. This was my battle, he would let me fight it how I saw fit.
    He did however make sure I could see him from where I was battling across the mat and he raised an eyebrow and mouthed, “Spin.”
    I had been battling this like a vampire, using strength and speed, agility and endurance as my only weapons. I had not even considered calling on my Nosferatin powers to aid in the battle, it had somehow felt like cheating. But now I realised that that was not the case. Erika had been a swordsman for centuries, I'd had five or six hours training, there was no way I could win a battle against her with that limited amount of experience, so what was I doing? Holding my own, just, but content to let her wear me down until she won and I capitulated in a heap of jelly-like mess on the floor? I don't think so. I never enter a fight unless I intend on winning. What would be the point of that?
    It took me several more minutes to centre myself sufficiently to attempt the move, in the meantime Erika had managed a few more choice bruises to my shins - and fuck doesn't that hurt? - and back. And Michel had decided to join the show. He did not look impressed at all. I have no idea if that was because I was failing miserably and I didn't have time to consider the ramifications of that thought just then, because I'd found my zone. Erika came at me with an overhead swing, which I anticipated might have been her killing, or at least knocking unconscious, move and I spun.
    I danced up in my Nosferatin spin away from her bokken , away from the bruising glance of her strike, around the back of her and landed with the sword at her neck, coming in from an angle, showing the intent was clear: a decapitation with one blow.
    “Bang, bang, you're dead.” Wrong weapon, but hell I was spent.
    A round of raucous applause and hoots and cries of Well done, Luce! Knew you could do it! Yeah right, on that last one. And Erika dropped her sword in defeat.
    I slowly sunk to my knees in utter exhaustion and glanced up at Nero to mouth, “Thank you”. He smiled, nodded his head and flickered out of sight. My hero, come to add support and guidance even when I didn't realise I needed him. Nero and I are connected, not like Michel and I, or even Gregor and I, Nero is my Nosferatin Herald. He is part of the Prophesy I am also part of. I am the Sanguis Vitam Cupitor , the first key to the Prophesy and he is the one to unlock it, pulling all the relevant parts together to complete its task. So far, I'm the only one to appear, we're still waiting on the rest of them, but in the meantime, he comes when I call, even if I don't realise I've