by Lund, S. E.
"Why does this break your heart?"
"I remember when I was seventeen and my heart was broken."
"Danielle?' I say. "But you chose the priesthood over her. You probably broke her heart."
"I know," he says. "But mine was broken as well."
I listen while he plays, the piece beautiful, his touch so deft.
"You play very well."
"I've had several centuries to learn. You, in contrast, are truly gifted."
The melancholy melody makes my throat close up and tears bite at the corners of my eyes. I watch him play and he's so beautiful, my fallen priest vampire-hunting vampire. When he finishes he turns to me and sees my tears, which I try to blink away, but can't.
"Oh, Eve," he whispers and pulls me into his arms. "What will I do without you?" He lifts my face up, kissing my tears, and I slip my arms around his neck.
"You won't be gone too long, will you?"
"I don't know how long," he says, kissing my neck. "Any time is too long."
Then he sighs and takes my hand, pulling me away from the piano. "I have to get ready. My plane leaves soon."
He takes me on a quick tour of the rest of the house, but now I'm in no mood for it, and take a perfunctory look in each room, the main living room, a smaller sitting room, and he opens a door and lets me peer into an industrial kitchen.
He motions to the dark haired vampire, who follows us back upstairs.
"Sleep now," he says, patting the bed. "I'll think of you lying in my bed all nice and warm and sleepy and I'll be able to relax. I'll let Raymond take you to your flat later this evening and you can gather up your things. Put them in the bathroom. I don't have any female servants, so you'll have to put up with Raymond," he says and points to the servant. "Do what he says because he's very exacting about things and keeps me in line. I'm taking Vasily with me."
"How many servants do you have?"
Michel turns to Raymond. "How many on staff, Raymond?"
"Fifteen, my Lord."
"You make your staff call you my Lord?" I turn to Michel and then look back at Raymond, who clears his throat. Oh, oh, Michel mouths, all wide-eyed faux-panic, his back to Raymond.
"My Lord de Cernay is a Vicomte from a very old and noble family and he was once the Bishop of Carcassonne."
"Yes," I say, "but there are no titles in France any longer. You know, Liberty, Equality, Fraternity?"
Raymond makes a sound in his throat and turns away, pulling back the covers to the bed, which I see have a wet spot on them. Michel finally smiles at me, shaking his head slowly.
"You'll have my staff up in arms if you talk like that while I'm gone."
"You afraid I'll foment rebellion?" I smile, but it's forced because I know the moment we have to separate is coming quickly and I'm getting all teary again.
"Are you sure Lilith isn't your middle name?" he says, taking me in his arms and pulling me against him, kissing me. Raymond makes a face and leaves the room.
"He doesn't like me being here," I say to Michel.
"To him, I'm a priest and so he's scandalized that I have a woman staying in my bed. Since he's been with me, I've been celibate and very priest-like. Give him time."
I pull him against me more tightly. "You said you were celibate earlier. For how long?"
"When I killed my last human."
Holy hell. Over a century without sex? No wonder he was more than ready earlier.
"I feel terribly guilty that I made you break your vows," I say but I'm lying.
"You made me do nothing." He kisses me and I feel his amusement at this line of discussion.
"Why me?" I say, genuinely curious. "Is it only because I look like her? Like Danielle?"
He sits on his bed and pulls me between his legs.
"You do look like her in a way, with that blonde hair and hazel eyes. But you're also different. Your freckles. Your dimples. They're your own and they're what I love about you. And your mind, of course. You have a mind that keeps me shaking my head."
What he loves about me…
He's used love twice in reference to me, saying earlier that he loved my mind while we were in the park. He said it to Soren in Montana. I reach to him, touching his cheek and when I do I feel a deep sense of warmth from him, and it envelops me like a wave and my own emotions swell in response.
"I have to go," he says and pulls me against his body, his face nuzzling in the crook of my neck, his mouth opening, his tongue over my jugular. He's feeling my pulse, enjoying the sensation of it against his tongue. He loves how close he is to my vein, how easy it would be to just bite, and his teeth do elongate and his blood lust increases, but he bears it, loving the sacrifice he makes to keep me pure. He wants to keep me pure, unbroken, untainted.
"I have to leave," he protests, his voice husky. "I don't have time…" He kisses me. "But when I come back, we'll be together for good, Eve," he says, staring in my eyes.
I want him to stay with me. I'm afraid of this price he will pay and what it will mean, but I don't get anything from him. He pulls out of my arms.
"Now go to bed and sleep as long as you want. Raymond will attend to any of your needs. I've told Ed that you'll be on leave while I'm gone because I don't want you going anywhere without me."
"But the case…"
"Ed and Terri are handling it fine without us. Now don't ask questions or protest, Eve. Obey."
I nod and take in a deep breath.
He pulls me once more into his embrace, lifting my body off the floor as if I'm no more that a feather, and of course, he's so strong, with the strength of ten men, and so I am light.
"Stay safe, ma petite," he whispers, his lips against my neck. "My little one."
And then he's gone without looking back.
* * *
During the next four days, I spend part of my time playing the lovely old Steinway, learning the Chopin Nocturne Michel played. I want to learn it because he loves it and I want it to become part of me. The rest of the time I spend studying old atlases and maps of the world, drawn hundreds of years earlier that Michel has in his collection, reading books from his library, watching television, and simply lazing around. It is the first real vacation I've had in several years for each summer I've worked and taken classes. It's a relief to just do nothing.
I don't hear from Michel and it hurts a bit that he doesn't think of contacting me, but I try to bite back my disappointment and accept things I can't change.
When Raymond enters the room to bring me tea, I ask him.
"Have you heard from Michel?"
Raymond shakes his head.
"He said he'd be out of contact for several days – maybe a week."
I feel a bit better. He's not deliberately avoiding me then. This is part of his plan, but I miss him and only now realize how familiar his presence has become and how much I desire him, his company, his touch.
That night, as I'm sleeping, I dream of him and it's a strange dream – like something out of a vampire movie with him entering the open window, coming to the bed, his black wings outstretched. He lies on top of me, kissing me with his cold lips, his wings curving around us. I writhe in pleasure under his touch, aching for him. As I do, he bites my neck, his sharp teeth breaking my skin and the mixture of pleasure and pain makes everything even more potent. The feed is short, just a mouthful or two, and then he's gone and not a word is spoken.
I wake up and the dream felt so real, I reach up to touch my neck, but there's no mark. It was just a dream after all…
* * *
That afternoon, I ask Raymond if someone can take me out so I can visit my apartment and feed my cats, then get a cup of my favorite coffee.
"No offense," I say to him, "but I really like the coffee at a shop just below my apartment. Can someone take me there so I can get a cup? I want to buy some coffee and my favorite dark chocolate at a store beside it. I've been in this house for four days straight and I'm starting to go crazy."
Raymond make
s a face and then goes to the door.
"I'll arrange it. My Lord left instructions that any outings should be short, and limited to visiting your apartment to feed your cats. I'll have two guards take you. You're only allowed fifteen minutes. Is that understood?"
I nod, and as much as I like the mansion, I'm happy to be out getting the fresh air. It's sunny and I don't want to waste the nice day.
* * *
The guard who met us the first day takes me in a long black sedan and I see a second car following behind us. Talk about security precautions. We arrive at my apartment and I quickly refresh the cat food feeder and water dispenser while the guard named Marco stands like a statue in my doorway, and then we head to the coffee shop for a cup of Medium Blend organic and cream. The side patio is open and so I sit in a chair and enjoy the day. Marco is sitting a few chairs over, his dark glasses on, his hand on a cup of coffee, which he doesn't drink.
I get up to go to the washroom and Marco stands when he sees me rise.
"I'm just going to the washroom."
He nods and then goes ahead of me to check the small washroom out. He opens the door, checks the stall and then nods to me, not a word said.
I go in and have a quick pee and then wash up before leaving. Marco isn't there when I come out, nor is he seated at the table where he was previously. I go to the shop next door to pick up some of the chocolate they sell there – it will go well with the pound of organic espresso I've bought. Surely the driver will see me and will keep an eye out for me for the five minutes I'm in the shop. I go into the tiny store and inspect a half-dozen trays of dark chocolate, selecting several that I'll enjoy after my supper. I glance out the window while the clerk rings the order up and see a strange man staring at me as he crosses traffic. He has his eyes peeled on me, a coat over his arm, and I have a sense that under it is a weapon.
"I'm sorry," I say to the clerk when she hands me the bag. "Is there a back entrance?"
She nods and points to the rear of the store and I leave through the small kitchen. I can circle around the block and see if I can find Marco. Then I hear footsteps behind me in the alley and I remember what Michel said – it's better to avoid fighting, even if you can win. I run, not looking back as Michel instructed. I'm a fast runner, but not fast enough to avoid a gun, a small projectile hitting me in the neck.
I fall and strike my head, and then there is only darkness.
END OF BOOK 1
ASCENSION
BOOK TWO OF THE DOMINION SERIES
Copyright © 2017 by S. E. Lund
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Design by Cover Couture (www.bookcovercouture.com)
Photos by iStock
Photo by Shutterstock
ASCENSION: Book 2 of the Dominion Series
Copyright © 2017 by S E Lund
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover art: Orina Kafe
Orina Kafe Facebook page
Foreword
You were the model of perfection, full of wisdom and perfect in beauty. You were blameless in your ways from the day you were created till wickedness was found in you . . . Your heart became proud on account of your beauty, and you corrupted your wisdom because of your splendor. So I threw you to the earth.
Ezekiel 28
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
William Butler Yeats
Chapter 23
“Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.”
Alfred Tennyson
"SWEET," A MALE VOICE SAYS. "Michel's little pet. He's not being very careful with you."
I blink, my eyes focusing slowly, pain throbbing in my head. I sit in a chair with my arms bound behind my back. A man in his twenties with reddish blond hair to his shoulders stands directly in front of me.
I glance around, trying to get my bearings. We're in an office in what looks like a warehouse filled with rows and rows of furniture stacked high.
"I'm not his pet."
"Oh, yeah? Then what's up with the bite on your neck? Moles?"
"What bite mark?"
He smiles at me as if I'm a child.
"That one," he says and points.
"It's not a bite," I say but I can't be sure. My hands are tied. Then I remember my dream from last night.
"Sure, sweetheart, and this," he says and points to a wound on his neck, "is just a birthmark. It just so happens to be in the shape of a vampire bite. You know, one of those freaks of nature like Elvis on an English muffin?"
I sit helpless, all my so-called vampire hunter fight skills worthless.
"What are you going to do with me?"
He comes closer and bends down, lifting up a piece of my hair with a dagger.
"I'm not going to do anything with you, but I think my boss has a few ideas and will want to come and have a little visit. If Michel doesn't show up soon, he's going to claim tribute and keep you for himself."
There's nothing I can do or say. I feel helpless at that moment and close to panic. Finally, the man leaves me alone with another bulky guy in leather who smokes a cigarette, flicking the ashes towards me in disdain.
Time passes – I have no idea how long but soon I start to really worry that Michel won't come.
Finally, the first man returns and stands in front of me.
"Time's up, Eve. I guess Michel needs a bit more convincing because he hasn't arrived."
I want to say he's out of town, but don't know if I should so I keep silent. He holds out the dagger and lowers it to my sweater, cutting the buttons so that it opens to reveal my bra.
"Stop," I say, trying to move away but I'm trapped.
He cuts the strap between the cups and my breasts spill out and there's nothing I can do about it. The two men stand and gawk at me and soon, my cheeks are hot and I avert my eyes. Then, the man slides the blade across my left breast above the nipple, drawing blood and I gasp with the pain of the knife blade. He holds a tiny glass vial up to catch some of the blood as it drips off my breast. He puts the stopper on the vial and stands admiring me as I sit there, helpless.
"I should take a picture. Post it on the 'net at one of those vampire fetish websites. Lotta guys would pay good money to watch. Like a piece of art. Hey, Jim, doesn't she look like a piece of art with that line of blood dripping down her tit, her nipples all puckered?"
Another man enters the room and the blond jumps out of the way, and stands to the side, his head down. The strange man is taller than the other two and lean, with long dark hair. I blink away tears and see that he's a vampire from his pale skin.
"Enough fun," he says and holds his hand out. The guard passes him the small vial of my blood. Then, the vampire kneels down in front of me, his gaze fixed on the bleeding cut on my breast, his eyes momentarily reddening. "Boys, didn't I tell you not to play with the pets? You should have taken the blood from her arm, not her breast. Now, Michel will be angry. Leave us."
The two men leave the room and I'm alone with the vampire. He looks really young – early twenties. Maybe even as young as me.
"So you're Michel's new pet," he says, his voice soft, his eyes flicking to my face momentarily before moving back to my wound. "You're pretty, but you've got a lot to learn about what a vampire likes. Your clothes," he says and waves a gloved hand at my sweater and jeans. "Not very flattering. You've got to wear something a bit more revealing. Put your hair up, expose your neck. Show some leg. You look like a college student
."
"I am, and I'm not trying to attract a vampire," I say.
"Uh, uh, uh," he says and holds his gloved finger to my lips. "Don't speak until I ask for your opinion. You'll find things are different in my coven. We hold to the old ways."
Of course, I have no idea what 'the old ways' are – I haven't got that far in my reading of vampire history and lore. He stands.
"Elaine!"
A blonde woman dressed in a bustier and leather pants comes into the room on heels that look dangerously high.
"Yes, my Lord?"
"Since that idiot destroyed Eve's sweater and bra, find something appropriate for her to wear. I expect Michel will be by soon to get her back. I want to show him how to keep his possessions safe – and properly dressed."
"I'm not his possession," I say. The woman – Elaine – visibly flinches when I speak.
The vampire leans down, his face level with mine. "And I heard you were so bright. What is it about 'don't speak until I ask for your opinion' didn't you understand?"
I press my lips together and look away. He takes my chin in his hand and turns my face back to his. I keep my eyes shut, not wanting to have to face him.
"Female slaves will keep their eyes on their Master at all times," he says and gives my head a gentle shake until I open my eyes. "You have to anticipate my every need."
"I'm not your slave and I'm not Michel's pet," I say. Then I realize I've spoken without permission and close my eyes, grimacing, waiting for something to happen.
After a pause, the vampire speaks.
"Then what about that bite mark on your neck? Why does he have an operative watching over you like you were a prized possession?"
I don't reply.
"Now, you see, you can't seem to get the hang of this slavery thing," he says. "I asked for your opinion. You're supposed to answer."
I open my eyes and he's back on his haunches, looking directly at me, his arms resting on his knees.