Retribution (Book 3 of The Dominion Series)

by Lund, S. E.

  A chill goes through me, my body numb. "And me? What am I supposed to be?"

  His jaw tenses for a moment as if he's grinding his teeth.

  "His Medium."

  I frown. A Medium? "Do you mean like a psychic Medium? Is this what you meant by me being a conduit?"

  He nods. "You'd channel – focus the powers of those you join with, giving Soren more powers. Powers he could tap and use to do miracles. Feats of wonder to ensnare unwitting believers. But he's not a god. He's an abomination. He's a monster. What did Yeats write?" He pauses for a moment, as if remembering and then he recites the poem, his voice grave.

  "Things fall apart; the center cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity."

  "I know that poem," I say, remembering it from high school English. "How does it end? Something about a monster being born."

  "What rough beast," he says, his voice a whisper, "its hour come round at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?"

  "It was about the post-war years in Europe," I say in protest. "After the First World War."

  "It's an allegory, using Biblical imagery. But what I'm talking about is Biblical, Eve."

  "You mean like the Anti-Christ? You're saying Soren is the Antichrist? And you support this?"

  "Not the Anti-Christ, no. But a monster none-the-less." He frowns at me, his blue eyes dark. "I don't support him. He's an abomination to me. I'll fight him. I have to find the right way to do so."

  "By looking like you support him. But Michel, he's compelled you. How do you know he doesn't already know your plans to fight him?"

  He shakes his head and turns his face away from me. Then he sighs heavily. He pulls me closer, his arms going around me. He leans in, his lips next to my ear.

  "All I know is that he's trying to make sure I have no other choice but to comply with his wishes to save your life." He squeezes his arms around me so tightly that I can barely breathe. "Oh, God, Eve," he says. "I'm so tired of this. Trying not to say the wrong thing. Saying enough to convince you but not kill you. So tired…"

  I pull away and he releases me, and there are tears in his blue eyes.

  "Tell me!"

  He cups my cheek, and strokes it with his thumb.

  "I see it all," he says. "Every different future. Each decision, each word makes one future more likely to come true, and others less likely. Eve, if you could only just submit fully, I could save you but you have to fight me every second of the day…"

  "Save my life? You mean I'll die if I don't submit to you?"

  He says nothing, just brushes a strand of hair from my cheek.

  "There are things worse than death."

  "Quit being so cryptic!" I hit him, pound his chest for I'm angry and scared. He sounds demented. "Tell me or leave."

  "Don't you understand?" he says and grabs my shoulders, shaking me, his face filled with grief. "I sentence you to death by telling you. I can't tell you. I've already told you too much. If I do tell you, you will die. This is my test – the test of what future I will allow to come and what price I'll pay…"

  I push him away and stand up. "You're deluded."

  I back away from him, but he won't leave me alone. He rises from the bed and follows me until he has me cornered. He presses against me so that I'm trapped, one of his arms on the wall beside my head.

  "If I tell you, you'll die. Even telling you this makes it more likely and I'll have to scramble to adjust, recalculate, re-plot my course, alter my plan. Eve, I have to watch every act, every word," he says and shakes his head. "Every breath."

  "You can't tell the future!"

  He shakes his head sadly. "I can. With each word," he says and strokes my cheek. "We change it. Every time we speak, every time we make a decision, the future is altered. Don't you see? There are so few good futures for us, Eve. So many bad ones. I see them all, I see them change each time I talk of this with you. Please, just stop asking me. Just submit to me and let me save your life. I can't stand a universe without you beside me."

  His expression of need for me touches my heart but I shake my head, unable to accept his words. He thinks he can see the future? It's impossible. It hasn't happened yet. He can't see it.

  He can't.

  He's deluded. This is what Julien was speaking about – Michel's obsession with controlling everything so he can affect the future.

  "If you can see the future," I say, frowning, "then you knew you were going to cut my arm. You let it happen."

  He sighs. "I saw myself cut you. I saw you bleeding, Eve. I saw you survive. I saw how that act cascaded forward into the future, altering it ever so slightly in my favor so I let it happen," he says and presses his finger against my lips. "Now please, go to sleep."

  He leads me back to the bed and I lie down but sleep is long in coming, for I have his blood in me and his body is right there, pressed against mine.

  I know he's aroused.

  This could happen so easily. I can't let it.

  I owe Julien that much.

  CHAPTER TEN

  "My love is selfish. I cannot breathe without you."

  John Keats, Letters to Fanny Brawne

  I wake with a start out of a bad dream in which I fall with someone’s sword in me, the blade piercing my heart, my hands around the sharp edges. I’m panting and Michel’s staring at me when I open my eyes, his brow furrowed, his expression dark.

  “I saw myself being killed,” I say, barely able to speak.

  “I know.” He doesn’t say anything more, but heaves a heavy sigh and cups my cheek. “You needn’t worry. I won’t let it happen.”

  “That wasn't a vision of the future.” I sit up, my heart rate slowly returning to normal. “It was just a dream about my test today.”

  “Eve,” he says, closing his eyes briefly. “You are so stubborn. You saw into my mind when you were waking."

  I shake my head, refusing to believe something that's impossible. "I'm just anxious about the test."

  "Don't worry," he says and strokes my cheek. "The tests will be a breeze for you. You have nothing to fear.”

  He pulls me into an embrace and I’m distracted from the dream of my death. I haven’t decided yet. I won’t be able to make my decision until I see Julien and talk to him.

  The thought chokes me up and I hug Michel tightly, despite my vow not to encourage him. He knows what I’m thinking through our connection and pulls me even closer against him.

  We just lie there for a moment, wallowing in the sensations of sadness and his attempt to calm me doesn't stop my fear about my decision.

  I get up and before I close the door to leave, I turn back and stare at him. He turns on his side to face me, and his face has this haunted look, his blue eyes huge. We say nothing. There's no need to speak.

  Then, I go to the showers, a choke in my throat. When I'm done, he's gone. I go to the cafeteria before preparing for my tests.

  The written tests are first thing this morning, and are pretty short. Most of our testing will be through performance and fighting later this evening. We have several hours off in the afternoon to study for our fights and I wonder where Michel is. I return to my tiny room but he’s not there. I sit and go through my notes on various stances and moves and do some practice in the dojo, but he never shows up.

  I wonder if Julien is already here and what he’ll do when he comes for me. My stomach is in knots just thinking of it.

  I go back to the cafeteria and eat supper by myself, surrounded by almost two-dozen other students, all eating, deep in thought as we mentally prepare for our bouts tonight.

  Finally, my trainer arrives and takes me out to the garden where floodlights have been set up and the other students are standing in five rows of four students. The sun has set and it's about nine o'clock at night. We start going through the routines, the instructor barking command
s at the front of the field. With my two wooden Wakizashi swords in hand, I perform the moves, my braid tucked into my tunic and my feet bare in the cool grass.

  Movement in my peripheral vision distracts me and I glanced to the right of the field where three priests in black vestments escort three tall men onto the field from a doorway. Dressed all in black and carrying black-visored helmets, the tall men have Wakizashi swords – real ones, similar to the wooden ones we used for practice.

  Adepts with fight sight – it must be.

  They march to the rear of the field and each stands inside one of three rings marked out in chalk lines on the grass.

  I glance back to the doorway when we switch to a series of side thrusts, and watch as a dozen observers in street clothes entered the field, speaking with the priests, but I don't see either Michel or Julien. The new arrivals walk up and down the rows of students. Two stop beside me, watching me go through the routine.

  "How do you think they'll do?" a woman says.

  "It's sink or swim," a man says, his voice smooth and foreign, sounding British. I see him out of the corner of my eye when I perform a side lunge.

  A priest.

  "This is their final test. They have to beat an experienced Adept in battle. This will separate the wheat from the chaff."

  As I go through the routine, I wonder if I'll be wheat or chaff. Julien promised to be here to watch and I glance around but don’t see him. I don’t see Michel either, but perhaps they don’t want to distract me. I can only imagine what’s passed between them if they’ve met up before the test.

  The trainers start pulling students out of the formation, taking them back to the rings. I heard shouts, cries of pain, the collective 'oohs' and 'ahhs' from the observers, scattered applause, but I'm unable to turn around and watch. Finally, one of the trainers motions to me, taking his baton and placing it in front of me so that I have to stop.

  "Your turn," he says and motions towards the back with his head. "Move it!"

  I run to the rear of the field and what I see turns my blood to ice. The three Adepts fight students inside the circles, and as I wait, one pushes a girl out of the circle, wounding her with a slice to the arm. She’s unable to beat the Adept or fight to a draw, which is required to pass. Medics tend several of my fellow students who failed the test, gashes on their limbs.

  I step up, watching as the Adept takes his place in the center of the ring once more. He wears a visored helmet so I can’t see his face. The guard shoves me from behind and I step into the circle, my heart racing and my wooden weapons at the ready. In a crouch position, I wait. The Adept bows to me but I don’t bow back. We fight for the required three minutes and the official raises a flag, signalling an end to the match. I’ve fought to a draw.

  I've passed.

  Standing at the edge of the field I see Julien. He’s dressed all in black with a long black leather trench and a blue scarf around his neck. Perhaps he didn’t want to distract me, but regardless, I run to him, ignoring the calls of the guards behind me. He’s smiling when I reach him, his arms open, his blue eyes wet. We kiss, the kiss deep and passionate and I feel a rush of love and some surprise from him, as if he didn’t believe I’d choose him. He must know Michel's been here.

  “I knew you’d pass,” he says, his face in my neck. “They trained you well.”

  We kiss again and he pulls me against him so tightly, I think he’ll break my back.

  “Julien,” I say and pull back. “Michel…”

  “I know,” he says and cups my cheek. “We’ve,” he says and hesitates. “Spoken.”

  “Then you know I have to choose…”

  He nods. “Of course you’ll come with me. You have to.” He takes my face in his hands, strokes my cheek with a thumb. “You don't want that life – the one Michel's promised you. A life with him as his slave,” he says, his voice angered. “You want to be with me as my partner. My love.”

  I step away, shaking my head.

  “Michel said something very bad is coming. He said he needs me to fight Dominion.”

  Julien shakes his head. “There’s more than one way to fight Dominion, Eve. You were meant to work as a Blood Witness. With me. It’s what your mother wanted. This is what we were meant to do.”

  “Michel said—.”

  “I know what Michel said, Eve," he says and steps closer again. "He doesn’t know everything. He thinks he can predict the future, control it. He’s a bit insane, I think.”

  “We’ve been together, " I say, but quickly add. "We haven't had sex, but he fed me and we slept in the same bed.”

  He nods. “I’d kill him if I could bear it, cut off his head and burn his body, but I can’t. He only did what I would have done if the roles had been reversed.”

  “You aren’t mad at me?”

  “How could I be?” he says and shakes his head, touching my face with the backs of his fingers. “What we’re doing to you…” He sighs. “Now, go back to your room and pack up your bags. I'll send some guards with you. Michel's … busy. He won't bother you. Then, come to me. You don’t want to go with him, Eve. He’s trying to defeat Soren all by himself, but he won’t be able to without risking your life. I won’t do that. I’ll protect you. Don’t let his talk of doom and gloom make you choose out of fear. I love you. I’ll love you completely and totally. You are everything to me. I’ll give you everything you want.” He kisses me. “I’ll make you happy. He won’t.”

  He turns me around and points to the entrance to the dorm. “Now, go. I have to sign you out and then I’ll be waiting by my rental car in the parking lot. Hurry. We don’t have much time.”

  “What do you mean, much time?”

  “Just go.”

  I leave the field, and two of the guards follow me into the dorm and stand outside the door to my tiny room. I pack up my things, my hands shaking, my heart pounding in my ears. I’m not really even thinking. I just pack, my mind blank.

  Then I hear a scuffle outside my door.

  I turn to face it and when the door opens, it’s Michel. He closes the door behind him and adjusts his clothing, which are bloody and there's a hole in his shirt over his heart as if he's been staked.

  He’s just taken down both guards outside my door. Julien’s guards.

  When I see him, my heart jumps. “Michel,” I say, my throat closing up. "What happened to you?"

  "What do you think happened?" he says and touches the fabric. "Julien staked me."

  "With a wooden stake?"

  "Yes."

  "He wouldn't."

  "Oh, he would," he says, shaking his head. "He planned on keeping me in stasis for an indeterminate time back at the SCU. What he didn't know is that I'm immune to that now."

  "You can't be killed with a stake?"

  He shrugs his shoulders. "Hurts terribly and disables me, but is no more effective now than a metal weapon."

  "Because of your ascension. But why doesn't Julien know?"

  "He doesn't know everything, Eve. I can't even tell him or risk his life as well."

  "Michel, you can't do this – you can't try to save the world all by yourself."

  He steps closer to me. "I have no choice."

  I feel incredible guilt that I was going to leave with Julien. “Michel, I'm going to--.”

  “I know what you were going to do,” he says and takes my hand, immobilizing me with his powers, pulling me over to the bed. He sits down and then pulls me onto his lap so that I straddle his hips the way I did that day in his cottage.

  “As usual, Julien sweeps in like some conquering warlord and overwhelms you with his words of love, his passionate nature. He’s relying on his ability to overwhelm you, Eve, to convince you to go with him – just like he did that day on the beach.”

  “Maybe I want someone like him," I say and I can see those words, that thought, hurt him, watch the pain cross his face as if he's been struck. "And what about you?” I say, angered despite what he's done to me. “What are you relying
on to convince me to go with you?”

  “Only your sense of duty.”

  I shake my head. “Julien says you’re deluded.”

  “He’s hardly unbiased.”

  “What am I supposed to do, Michel?” I say, genuinely confused. “I love you both, each in your own way.”

  “I know,” he says and brushes hair off my cheek. “But come with me, help me stop Soren. I need you.”

  I look at him, at his beautiful face, his eyes so blue, thick black lashes fringing them, his long hair a mess, tucked behind his ears. I stroke his face, his cheek, and he leans into my hand, his eyes closing. When he opens them again, his eyes are wet.

  “Julien wants me.”

  “I want you, too. Every moment of every day, Eve. Don’t think he loves you more than I do.”

  I don’t know what to say. Julien loves me more intensely. I feel the difference when they touch me. When they connect to me. Michel’s passion is steady and strong, but Julien… Julien’s passion is almost desperate. Like he’d do anything for me. Michel will follow his course, no matter what I choose. The mission comes first, like he said.

  Julien will give up the fight.

  I just don’t know whether to believe this vision of a hellish future Michel talks about.

  "I can't go with you if you lie to me. If you hide things from me. I have to have the truth. All of it."

  He inhales deeply, his brow furrowed.

  "What did Huxley write? You shall know the truth and the truth shall drive you mad."

  “Better a cruel truth than a comfortable delusion," I reply. "Edward Abbey.”

  He closes his eyes for a moment.

  “I can’t tell you the truth, don’t you understand?” he says and pulls back, taking my face in his hands. “If I do, I kill you! How many times do I have to tell you this?”

  “You’re insane.”

  I try to push him away, try to extract myself from his arms but he won’t let me go, and he’s almost desperate, pulling me against him, using his greater power to lift me up and turn me over, pinning me beneath him on the bed, his hands holding mine above my head. Only a day ago that would have aroused me, but now it only feels like assault.