The Dominion Series Complete Collection

by Lund, S. E.

  Later, Julien arrives while I'm sitting at the piano, practicing alone in the darkened living area, playing a Bach piece I know by heart, Prelude in C Sharp Minor. I always loved Bach when I was first learning piano – the perfection of his work, the precision needed to play it properly. I loved the discipline involved.

  He doesn't come over but I know he's standing at the kitchen, drinking a glass of blood, listening to me. I finish playing and just sit in the stillness, wondering what he's going to do next. He comes to me and takes my hand, pulling me with him to the seating area again.

  "Stop," I say, afraid he's going to spank me again.

  "I'm not going to spank you."

  He pulls me down onto his lap so that I'm straddling him, one knee on either side of his hips and it's far too intimate for his face is only a foot away from mine and I can't help but stare into his blue eyes.

  He says nothing for a moment, just looking at me, his gaze moving over my face. I have to look away because his eyes are just too intense. I sit there, my hands resting on his shoulders, my face turned away.

  "I shouldn't have spanked you when your pain block means I won't know when to stop."

  "Julien, I…" I say, hesitating, for my emotions are just too close to the surface. I’m not really sure what I feel. "It scares me."

  "I know," he says and I can just detect a slight bit of hurt in his voice. "I'm really not into this whole obedience thing in a relationship. Sure, I’m used to using compulsion to get my way with humans, but I don’t consider that a true relationship. Humans are tools. Your immunity to compulsion makes this so much harder. I just can’t make you do what I want.”

  “Would you have just compelled me to have sex with you if you could?”

  He runs his fingers through my hair.

  “I don’t tend to become involved with humans any more.”

  “Why?”

  He pauses for a moment, running his fingers along my chin.

  “Humans die. After the first dozen or so who died after I fell in love with them, I gave up trying and stick to other vampires.”

  “That’s probably wise.”

  He nods and leans his head back.

  “Because Michel and I can’t compel you, it’s like we’re forced to see you as a person instead of as just a tool. We have to reason with you, argue with you, talk to you. You’re complicated. Anyway, I thought you were ready because your body was but your mind is so damn rebellious. I can access your body but I couldn't tell if I'd done too much or too little for your mind, so if I did too much, I apologize. I thought that it would help bring us together because, well," he says and trails his fingers down my neck and over his bite mark on my throat. "Michel's gone and I'm all you've got. I hate that I can't read you whenever I need to. Michel warned me."

  I shake my head. “You two actually talked about this?”

  "Of course. He wanted you protected, cared for.” He takes my chin in his hand so I have to look in his eyes. "We have to get on the same page and quick. Partners?" he says, and tilts his head to the side. "Work together?"

  I nod and feel my breath hitch for that’s what I suggested to Michel and what he rejected. These two are so different…

  "On one condition," I say, wondering how to phrase my proposal. "My condition is that you have to help me find a way to kill Soren and bring Michel back. I can't have him do this, Julien. It's not fair."

  He tightens his arms around me.

  "You're so good, Eve," he says, his voice soft. "But killing Soren? That's a huge thing. Do you think for a moment that if there was a way, I wouldn't have already done it? You're not strong enough. I don't know if anyone's strong enough. He's probably four thousand years old and something else entirely. You think vampires are hard to kill? Ancients are motherfuckers. I don't know if one's ever died."

  "He was created," I say. "He can be destroyed. We just have to find a way."

  He shakes his head.

  "I won't risk your life. Michel's tolerating his servitude to Soren because he wants you to be safe. And you just can’t stop from trying to put yourself in danger." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, smiling softly as he does. He runs the back of his fingers against my cheek and he's so much like Michel with those black-lashed blue eyes and black hair that before I know it's happening, he pulls me down to him and we kiss, the kiss starting off soft, chaste, then deepening, his lips parting mine, his tongue finding mine.

  My body responds to him in an instant, but I push him away.

  “Stop,” I say. “I don’t want you, Julien. I can’t give up on Michel. You said partners. We can be partners. Nothing more.”

  He shakes his head and exhales. Then he gets up, lifting me up with him and I slide down his body. He pushes me away.

  “Fine,” he says, adjusting himself, not meeting my eyes. “Purely professional from here on in.” He turns away and leaves me standing alone.

  Chapter 30

  “Absence diminishes mediocre passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and fans fires.”

  Rochefoucauld

  THE NEXT AFTERNOON, VASILY COMES OUT of his office and calls me to the door, holds out my coat.

  "We're going out. Boss wants you to meet someone."

  "Who?"

  "Someone from South Carolina."

  I take my coat and put on my shoes. South Carolina – it must be the person he had been 'interviewing' when the whole business with Kate happened. Despite myself, I'm curious about who it could be. One of the staff working for Blackstone? A doctor involved in the research?

  I follow Vasily down to the car and sit beside him in silence as we drive towards the more run-down areas of the waterfront that hasn't yet been revitalized.

  We pull up beside an old warehouse whose bricks are so old they're black from years of soot and pollution. Vasily escorts me inside and into a room in the basement. The room is hot and stuffy. On a chair in the center of the room is a man, his shirt off, his arms behind his back. He's sweating, but his skin is pale, his face bruised and his lip split. Blood has dripped on his chest. One eye is swollen shut.

  Julien walks around him, some kind of implement in his hand, which he slaps against his palm. He stops when he sees me, but his expression is still dark.

  "Ah, here she is – my little Adept. Colonel Reynolds, meet Ms. Eve Hayden."

  Vasily pushes me forward and I stop a few feet away from Reynolds, who looks me up and down.

  "This is your Adept?" He whistles, causing my cheeks to burn in the already hot room. "God, how can you possibly focus?"

  "Tell me about it."

  Reynolds nods to me.

  "Pardon my slurred speech," he says in a soft southern drawl, "but my lip is a bit fat right now. Sorry I can't shake your hand."

  Julien turns to me but doesn't meet my eyes.

  "Besides being a former special ops officer, Colonel Reynolds is also a clinical scientist, Ms. Hayden," he says, emphasizing the formal title, his tone reminding me of the new status of our relationship. "He worked on that very special project in early 90s. I thought you two might have a chat and share stories."

  "I wasn't directly involved in the research that was used on you," Reynolds says. "But on the larger project. I do know some who were."

  Julien pulls up a chair and motions to me to sit. I do, glad to focus on something other than Julien and this icy chill between us.

  "What we need to know is what they were using to alter my DNA so I could daywalk and how the drug was delivered."

  "I think, from what I do know,” Reynolds says, “that it was done to regulate gene expression in the skin's immune system. They either turned on genes that were dormant in order to offset the effect of the deficient or mutated genes that vampires receive when they're infected, or insert corrected versions of the defective gene. How they did it? Nanotech to deliver to the cells, having discovered Bucky balls in the mid-80s."

  "What do you know about the skin's immune system?" Julie
n asks.

  "All I know," Reynolds said, "is that people with extreme light sensitivity are prone to extreme responses to the sun. Their skin literally bubbles when exposed to ultraviolet light in certain wavelengths."

  I think for a moment. "The drug given to the daywalkers must activate or suppress the genes in some way," I say, remembering my class in immunology. "The drug must be delivered to the cells through the blood and is released into the cell, altering the DNA at the cellular level."

  "Exactly," Reynolds says. "Genes that protect are either shut on or defective genes are shut off. I don't know which it was."

  "I knew vampirism was a set of genetic mutations," I say, turning to Julien. "Not a curse from some vengeful god."

  Julien nods but doesn't meet my eyes.

  "Or a set of genetic mutations unleashed on mortals by a vengeful God," he says.

  I shake my head at his willingness to put it all down to God.

  "Military researchers seem to know a lot more about the genetics of vampirism that the rest of science," I say to Reynolds.

  Reynolds smiles.

  "The military started doing genome research at Los Alamos and through the Department of Energy in the early 80s – a kind of genetic Manhattan Project, and just as secret. Working for government directly gets results. The civilian genome project was years behind the military's own secret project. It was important to delay civilian research until the military could ensure any knowledge gained that could potentially be used for military purposes could be controlled."

  "And used to create a super warrior," Julien says.

  Reynolds turns to Julien. "You were in the first group."

  I turn to look at Julien, who is leaning back against a table on which are a bunch of nasty looking implements. I realize they're used for torture. There are metal rods and knives and prongs and syringes in a black case. It looks designed for inflicting pain – a torture kit.

  "I was given the drugs when I signed up for duty in the Persian Gulf the first time."

  "You have to remember that this research started during the Cold War, when our biggest threat was from the Soviets," Reynolds says. "They were doing research. We had to do it so that there would be no gap."

  "A genetics gap?" I say. "Or a vampire warrior gap?"

  "Either. Both. Whatever they did, we did and vice versa," Reynolds says, a touch of humor in his voice. "The logic of mutual deterrence was inexorable. The idea of an enhanced warrior has always been the holy grail of the military – one who lacked the usual barriers to high performance. Other than their weakness to daylight and their need for blood, vampires are superior in every way to humans. Self-healing, ruthless, especially if they've lost a grip on their humanity, like psychopaths. Give them proper rules of engagement, proper weapons and wide latitude and they can get the job done. No qualms. No messy moral conundrums."

  I cover my eyes with the heels of my palms. The horror of the whole project comes home to me once more. I shake my head, momentarily overcome.

  Finally, I glance up, looking at Reynolds through blurry eyes.

  "I hate you bastards."

  Reynolds says nothing, shrugs. The room is silent for a moment.

  Finally, I take in a breath, try to regain control.

  "I wanted to go into medicine to study vampirism in order to prevent it, eradicate it. Your type studied it to refine it, exploit it."

  "I was just doing research I thought would help prevent them from taking over. I only learned about its real use later. But I gotta tell you, as a military man, I came to appreciate what an asset it was for our side. The problem is that now the vampires out for Dominion have it, too."

  I wipe my eyes.

  "This knowledge of genetics and gene therapy could be used to improve humanity, reduce disease in humans, extend longevity,” I say. “But it's been delayed for a decade so the military could abuse it?"

  Reynolds nods. "Pretty much, yeah." He doesn't flinch under my gaze. "Guys like Julien are irreplaceable, except by more of his kind. You could throw anything at them – any situation however novel or threatening and they were unfazed. Unafraid of pain. No fear of dying – there aren't many stakes on the battlefield and unless they get hit by a freak stray shard of wood, they won't die permanently. Kill an enemy without a thought. Fight and most often, win in any hand-to-hand combat. Isn't that right?"

  "Absofuckinglutely. A war hog's wet dream." Julien's tone is sarcastic. "So," he says, turning to me without looking at me in the eye. "Ms. Hayden, Colonel Reynolds has decided he wants to continue to live and will cooperate." He turns to Reynolds. "What level of clearance do you still have? Can you get into some of the research for her?"

  "You give me a clean PC and I can tap into the database through my clearance. As long as it's related to my work, I can access it."

  Julien nods, his arms crossed.

  "Thank you. Ms. Hayden," he says without looking at me directly. "You and Colonel Reynolds will spend a bit of time in the next few days doing research. I'll call Ed and tell him you won't be coming in to work. I want action on this as soon as possible." He waves a hand at Vasily. "Find out what they did to us. I can still go out in the light, but others from my group – those who are still alive, that is, started to lose the ability. I don't think I have much time left."

  With that, Vasily comes to me and I stand. I stop beside Julien, wanting to say something but there's no opportunity. Vasily takes my arm and pulls me out of the room. I follow him out to the car, regret heavy like an iron weight in my gut.

  "So," Reynolds says as we sit in the office the next day and work on the computer. "Why are you helping him?"

  I press my nails into my palm. "Stockholm Syndrome?"

  "Oh, yeah?" Reynolds smiles. "I could see it. What's your interest in helping the Council?"

  "My mother worked for the Council before she died. I hate what's being done. We should be curing vampirism, not use them as some kind of killing machines. It's immoral. It's criminal. It should be exposed."

  Reynolds laughs. "Good luck with that. If anyone does expose the program and its escapades, you're implicated along with Julien by helping him, and you're dead. The guys who work for Blackstone? Not very pleasant. You think Julien’s a psychopathic vampire killer? The guys who head Blackstone are worse."

  “I don’t think Julien’s a psychopath.”

  “Oh he is, rest assured. All vampires fit the definition. They all want to drink you dry, no matter how they feel about you.”

  I shake my head. Not Michel. He cared about humans. He wanted to protect us and prevent Dominion. I sit in silence for a few minutes while Reynolds searches through a government intranet virtual library for research.

  "You’re implicated as well,” I say. “You were willing to help create this army of psychopathic vampire killers. Now, if you help Julien, you’re at risk and will be condemned with him if he’s caught."

  Reynolds shrugs. "It's either die now because I won't help, or die later for helping him. I figure if I help him now, I have a fighting chance of staying alive, evading them once this comes out."

  "Maybe you'll take pity on a screwed-up college student and help me evade them as well."

  He nods. "I promise you that if I survive and there's a chance of my helping, I will. I have SERE training and know a few clandestine tricks." He turns and glances at me, his eyes moving over my body. "I could use a little research assistant myself."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  He smiles.

  "I'm a trained observer, Eve. I saw the way you look at each other, despite the chilly reception you gave each other. The way he looked at you?" He shakes his head. "Like a wolf looks at a doe. Hungry. Drooling for a piece. But most does are afraid of wolves, not wanting to be closer to them. I'd say there's one hell of a lot more than Stockholm Syndrome going on."

  I rub my forehead. "It's pretty screwed up."

  "I can see that." He reads a few abstracts. "He's a very nasty vampire, you know. Once he f
ound out I actually worked on the project, his appetite for inflicting pain on me increased exponentially. I'm surprised he was able to stop and actually let me go. I don't get why you're helping him or even with a guy like him."

  "I'm not with him," I say, "at least, not by choice." I look at my hands, which are folded in my lap.

  "I don't know if I believe that," he says. "I'm a trained observer. I saw something between you."

  "Let's say I have issues."

  "Hate to use a cliché but moth to a flame?" He clicks on a link and opens a new window. "You know the score and yet you still can't end it?"

  "I did – the non-professional part. I'm pretty much committed to the professional part."

  "You were able to end it and you're still alive?" Reynolds raises his eyebrows. "That's a surprise. Vampires are used to absolute control. They call the shots, not mortals, and they use their powers to get compliance."

  "I'm the exception to the rule. I can't be compelled. I'm still alive because he needs my help." I sigh, wanting to change the subject. "As to his hurting you when he found out you were in the program? Can you blame him? I mean, seriously? They not only turned him into a daywalking vampire, they used him for their dirty work and then tried to destroy him when he became a liability."

  "I don't blame him at all. Not one bit,” Reynolds says. “I've always figured the program would come back to haunt us. The powers that be thought they could control these vampires, thought they had it all figured out. But you don't give predators free rein, knowledge of military ops, clandestine procedures and weapons and expect to control them. Pride goeth before a fall, as the saying goes."

  Reynolds downloads and prints off a half-dozen research papers that are classified and that detail procedures used in Operation Black Knight, as it was called. I look at the insignia at the top of some correspondence Reynolds shows me and think about the Lorraine Cross tattoo on Julien's neck.

  After Reynolds leaves with one of Julien's other employees, I sit in the seating area and read the papers, one after the other, studying the methods, the materials, and wonder how to replicate any of it. It's far beyond anything I've done in my labs in university, although I'm able to grasp the basic science. If the Council really wants to do this, they'll have to set up an ultra-modern lab and hire professionals.