Dancing Dragon
away. Hell, I'd normally go with him. If my tears hadn't have been a dead giveaway that something was not right in our joining, then this surely was.
    “It would not be a false conclusion to make,” Gregor offered, quietly. “But I have not heard of any planned meetings or investigations regarding Michel.”
    And with those softly spoken words, Gregor confirmed my worst fears. There would be no other reason for Michel to travel to Paris, Gregor agreed with me on that. It had to be the Iunctio, but what exactly they were after neither of us knew.
    I sighed, a weighty sigh. My heart was torn in two, my chest ached, my head hurt and now I was plain scared. Whatever Michel was doing, he intended to do it without me. Why?
    Gregor rose up off the cushions in the usual Nosferatu glide, puppet-on-a-string movement and turned to offer me his hand. With his help I didn't look nearly as awkward getting up, but still, vamps had a way of making you feel ungainly.
    “I suggest a night out on the town to wash away your sorrows, my dear. I promise, by the end of this evening I shall have you laughing and dancing and forgetting everything else but me. I have no doubt at all.”
    I had to smile, I had no doubt he'd try his darnedest too, but it wasn't until Amisi came out of the bedroom and Gregor's whole demeanour changed, from broad-shoulder-to-cry-on to awestruck-love-sick-puppy, that I truly started laughing.
    Dressed in skin tight black leather pants and an equally skin tight cropped black T-Shirt, showing a bronzed and toned midriff, with red blood dripping letters saying Desire de Sang Staff right across her breasts along with three inch high heels on her feet, Amisi looked older, sexier and infinitely more dangerous than I had ever seen her before. She took in the look on my face and then Gregor's and lifted her chin, then sailed passed us with all the grace of a catwalk model.
    Gregor was struck dumb and all I could do was laugh.
    “If you say one word, Lucinda Monk, I will slice you with silver. And Gregor, close your damn mouth, you're catching flies.”
    That's my girl.

Chapter 4
Blood Lust
    I chuckled the entire short trip in Gregor's car from the apartment at one end of Lambton Quay until the club at the other. Amisi just sat stony silent in the front passenger seat, arms crossed defiantly over her chest, with Gregor casting the odd covert glance her way. Taking in her profile, her body, the line of her neck. It was actually the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. The way he looked at her. It whispered of longing and desire and to a certain extent, worship.
    Gregor Morel, the Enforcer, the Iunctio's guillotine, worshipped the ground Amisi walked on.
    I might have issues with a particular vampire right now, but I am still able to appreciate that they are not all tarred by the same brush. Gregor has a bad boy bone, that was for sure, but he also had an enormous amount of Light within. He was a constant challenge, a borderline rogue, Nosferatin blood called to him in a way no other vampire could claim. That made him dangerous. But danger can sometimes be attractive. Gregor Morel wore danger like a dinner jacket, it suited him well.
    I couldn't think of a more appropriate kindred for my Amisi.
    The club, Desire de Sang , French for Blood Lust, was already at full capacity when we arrived. It had been open for a couple of hours, but by the time the sun set, it had got its groove on for sure. A mixture of high end dressers and Goth wannabes covered the dance floor and mingled around in the dark crevices bordering the central space. The music, along with the lighting, was seductive and alluring, an unusual combination of base and haunting riffs. No covers being played here.
    We followed Gregor in through the side entrance to the club, Amisi flashed me a smile then waltzed off to the bar and set up shop like she'd done it a million times before. Suddenly the men who had been waiting to be served by a male vampire behind the bar,

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