by Lund, S. E.
Julien drags the branch out of the way and I begin to feel a bit safer. The sun won't rise for a long time. Then, I see something out of the corner of my eye - something at the back of the cart.
I wave to Julien to draw his attention and he immediately stops dragging the fallen tree and holds a finger to his lips. He grabs his dagger from the ground and motions to me to go on one side of the cart, while he goes to the other. We circle it and end up at the rear of the wagon.
Julien shakes his head and then I see movement at the front of the wagon -- just a flick of ghostly white in the darkness. I hear the clink of metal on metal.
We run to the front, Julien's gun at the ready, but there's nothing to see.
"Get in," he says to me, his voice filled with fear. I do without question. The only thing I can look to for comfort is Julien's crossbow, armed with silver-tipped arrows. Then, when Julien tries to urge the horse forward, it refuses, stamping its feet and snorting as if frightened.
"What is it?" he says, pulling the reins again and again. "Something's spooked him."
I glance at the trees as the shadows shift, and what looks like men in long cloaks come into view.
"Julien!" I point to the trees lining the road where several men approach, and from the color of their faces, I know they're vampires.
I drop into fight mode and Julien is right there with me and together we leave the cart. I grab my weapons and we're on top of the three vampires before they can respond, easily taking them out. I take on one of the three, my weapons at the ready, and stake him because he's like a statue. He falls to the ground, lifeless and I then take my metal sword and hack his head off, thankful that we were trained to do so without thought at the abbey, even though it was just on straw-filled dummies.
Julien is fighting both the other two vampires and takes them down with a couple of quick moves and beheads them as well. I look to the three bodies – the first time Julien and I have fought together and the first time I've actually killed a vampire.
I'm barely out of breath because they were helpless against us and I realize the importance of Adepts with fight skills.
"You did great," he says and there's pleasure in his eyes. He reaches out to wipe off some blood from my face but then stops, remembering.
"This is what I was meant to do, Julien. Not be some pet of Michel's."
"You really do have to go to him, Eve. You'll be safe."
I shake my head. "I'm not going. I belong with you."
He sighs heavily and starts to go back to the cart. I follow him, but before he gets there, a flash of light strikes so blinding, a boom so loud, that I'm thrown backwards, my senses leave me.
What feels like an eternity passes before my vision clears of bright sparks and stars, the brightness fading slowly, but my hearing is still dulled. Flash bangs. Hands drag me from out of some inferno, someone carries me and I grasp instinctively to hold on.
Before my eyesight returns, I can barely make out the face of my – savior? Or captor? I don't know. All I see are blue eyes and a pale face, still out of focus, framed by dark hair. Behind them a pair of dark wings outspread. Is it Julien?
Blackness surrounds us for a brief moment and I feel the whoosh of air on my cheeks, and then those eyes recede into the distance, up into the sky, into the stars above.
Finally, consciousness leaves me completely.
Chapter 72
"The one thing we can never get enough of is love. And the one thing we can never give enough of is love."
Henry Miller
* * *
I regain consciousness, my vision coming slowly into focus. When I can finally see clearly, I'm inside a covered wagon, the cart banging against the ruts in the road. Michel sits on the bench beside a man with grey hair. Now and then, I hear a hint of conversation from Michel and the other man, but I can't make out what they're saying for the sounds are muffled.
I feel a bit dizzy and so I reach out and touch the side of the cart beside me to try and steady myself. Then I remember the attack and sit up, my heart racing. I glance around to see where Julien is, but he isn't in the back of the cart. When I sit up fully, an intense pain strikes my temple and I gasp and grab my head, lying back down once more.
Michel turns and sees me. He speaks to his companion and then comes to me, crawling over the bench, sitting beside me where I'm lying.
"Let me see," he says, leaning over me. He tilts my face so that I look in his eyes and I see only tenderness in them. He runs his fingers over my temple, and soon the pain disappears and a sense of calm descends over me.
"Try and rest. You've had a shock."
"Where's Julien? What happened?" I try to sit up again but he presses me back, his hand firm on my shoulder.
"He's fine. Just rest."
"Where is he?"
He keeps his hand on my shoulder, holding me down. "He's in another cart. You needn't worry about him. Just sleep now."
Whether it's due to shock from the explosion or him manipulating me, I don't know but soon, I can't keep my eyes open.
* * *
When I wake, Michel's carrying me through an alley into an old building in Boston. It's day, but when I catch sight of the sky, it's grey and cloudy. Even so, the light bothers my eyes and I shade them. He carries me up some stairs to the third-floor offices. The grey-haired man from the cart opens the door for Michel and he carries me inside.
"We're here," Michel says as he lowers me onto the small couch in Ed's old office.
I sit up and glance around.
"Where are we?"
"We're in a building on the waterfront that still has working fireplaces. We have no other way to heat buildings that relied on electricity for heat."
Michel brings me a blanket from a chest against the wall. "I have a house in the north where we'll live until Soren calls us to be with him. I have some business to attend to before we can go there." He hands me the old wool blanket, which has faded from use to a soft blue. "Use this to keep warm. These old buildings don't have much insulation so it'll be cold until we can get some kind of heating system set up and running."
The grey-haired man comes over and stands in front of me. Michel gestures to him. "This is Ethan. He's a police officer who's joined our cause."
I guess that Ethan is in his fifties, for his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles.
"Hello, young miss," he says. "Pleased to see you're better. We had a bit of a scare there for a while with your head injury but Michel was able to fix you."
I frown at Michel. "Where's Julien?"
"He's at his residence."
"I didn't consent to come with you so this is abduction."
"Eve," Michel says, exasperation in his voice. "Why must you always resist me? Resist reality?" He sits beside me on the couch and takes my hand. "You know this was inevitable. Best you just come with me now, rather than later when it might be too late."
"It's already too late," I say. I try to pull my hand out of his, but he's too strong.
"I thought you understood," he says. "Now is the time to obey, Eve. Now is your last chance."
I don't want to be petulant, but it scares me, this future with Michel.
"I'm afraid."
"I know," he says and leans down, his forehead against mine. "You should be, but I'll do everything in my power to protect you. Right now, everyone is fighting just to stay alive. Speaking of which," he says and stands. "You must be hungry. I'll get you some tea."
He goes to the fireplace, which has a small fire going and pours some hot water out of a tin kettle into a cup. "Milk, one sugar?" he says.
I nod.
"Would you like a sandwich?"
I shake my head. "My stomach's a bit off. Just the tea will do for now."
He comes back and stands in front of me once more. "I have some work to do, but please, if you do get hungry, let me know and I'll get something for you."
"Michel, you can't just abduct me and force me to comply."
> "I don't want to force you to do anything," he says and sits beside me again. He leans closer and cups my cheek with his hand, stroking my skin with his thumb. "I want you to freely join me. Haven't I told you that a dozen times?"
I glance away, not yet ready to do this.
He goes to a table on which are files and papers. "I don't have much that would interest you," he says as he flips through materials. Finally, he pulls out a newspaper.
"Here's The New York Times if you feel like reading."
I take the paper and glance at the headlines as I sip my tea. Football stories and scores along with a political scandal dominate the front page.
"From before or after?"
"Just before production stopped."
Then, it strikes me just how much things have changed if all I have to say is 'before or after' and he knows exactly what I mean. Before the red rain.
Before the start of the end of the world.
* * *
After I read the paper from cover to cover, I eat a cheese sandwich. Then, I close my eyes for a while as sleep sets in. In the background is the conversation between the two men, their voices rising and falling, lulling me to sleep.
* * *
Michel finishes up his work a few hours later. He lets me walk out of the building to the cart. He sits beside me, his arm over the back of the bench while Ethan drives. I watch Michel for a while.
"You knew, didn't you?" I say. He turns to me and he knows exactly what I mean. He looks devastated. "You should have been more convincing if you actually saw all this."
"I tried, but you were too in love with Julien and too afraid of yourself to listen."
"What's happening?"
"War, Eve, between two groups of fanatics who want to bring about an apocalypse. They don't care who they hurt or how many die because to them, humans are nothing more than food and toys. Both sides are ruthless and so must we be."
We drive southeast, through the old industrial part of the city center.
"Look at it," Ethan says, shaking his head, pointing to the devastation. "This whole area was revitalized but now it's a wasteland. Shame that people take their anger out on their own city."
I have many memories of big cities. The dividing line in my life is my mother's death and then the bombing. Everything that happened in between is a fantasy world and I have a hard time believing actually ever happened. The city we drive through is like a huge crumbling garbage heap. There are few people out, only several men pushing carts filled with scraps of wood.
"What are they doing?" I ask, pointing to one.
"Collecting wooden furniture, building materials, they're ripping up hardwood floors in old warehouses for firewood," Michel says. "Without gas, without heating oil, the people are freezing, living in the dark."
"Why are we here?"
"It's where Soren will try to take power."
We pass warehouses and docks, and streets littered with abandoned cars that have been junked, seemingly out of anger and frustration, the windows smashed in, the tires slashed, rude symbols or slogans spray-painted on the hoods. The same is true of the storefronts and office buildings, which have been similarly attacked. Huge plate-glass windows hang in broken shards, the streets and sidewalks littered with fallen glass. Stores have been looted, and as I catch sight inside the deserted buildings, I see row upon row of empty shelves.
We drive to Michel's mansion in the center of a thick grove of trees, which stands atop the crest of a hill. There's barbed wire on top of the high stone fence circling the property. We drive past an open metal gate to the house and the cart stops by a huge entrance with heavy wood doors. Michel helps me out of the old cart and takes my hand, leading me up the stairs and inside. The entry is enormous, with marble floors and columns. A staircase winds to a second floor and to the left and right are large reception rooms filled with ornate and antique furniture.
"I haven't seen anything like this since I was a child in Prague."
"You've been here before, but you don't remember."
He leads me up the stairs to the top floor to a bedroom and I think, I can't just do this. I can't just go from Julien to Michel.
"Stop," I say. "Don't do this. Not yet."
"If not now, when?"
I shake my head and pull my hand away. He lets me. We stand facing each other.
"What do you want from me?"
"I've already told you. I need you to play the part of my blood slave, my pet, so that Soren is assured you're under my control and will obey."
"Will you at least tell me the truth when we're alone?"
"I'll tell you as much as I safely can. You'll have to trust me."
I sigh. Back to the old 'just trust me' demand.
"I'll give you some time," he says, "but it’s the one thing we don't have."
He closes the door, leaving me alone in the huge room. I sit in silence for a long time, trying to gain control over my emotions.
Finally, I wander around and touch the wood and velvet drapes, the silk coverlet, the tassels on the throw pillows. The furnishings are very luxurious.
I go to the washroom and pour water from a pitcher into a basin. I splash water over my face, examining my reflection in the mirror. Too much has happened in too short a time.
I don't know what I feel any more.
I go to the huge bed and crawl under the coverlet, pulling it over my head to block out the light. Soon, I'll need to feed. I don't know how Michel will handle that, but I have an idea.
Chapter 73
"Life without love is like a tree without blossoms or fruit."
Khalil Gibran
* * *
I wake later after the sun has set and the room is in darkness except for the fire flickering in the hearth.
Michel sits by me on the bed.
I sit up and rub my eyes.
"Dinner will be ready in an hour." He raises my hand to his lips and kisses my palm. "We'll talk about the way things have to be between us to convince Soren that I truly control you."
* * *
When Michel returns some time later, I've fallen asleep and he wakes me when he sits on the bed. I sit up, and rub my eyes, the contract on my lap.
"What did you think?"
I swallow. "I can't just do this right now, Michel. It’s too soon."
He sighs, frowning. "Do you mean tonight or this week?"
"I don't know."
He looks away and I can tell he's fighting with himself. Finally, he turns to me, his blue eyes huge.
"I'll give you a few days. That's all I can spare, Eve. With each day, the plague spreads and we get closer to Dominion. Soren gains more power on his own, without your help."
He stands and turns away, but I stop him. "Before you go, can we talk about a few things?"
He turns back, sitting on the bed beside me.
I clear my throat. "I can't do this," I say.
"I understand your revulsion," he says softly. "But you must understand that Soren needs to truly believe you're my pet."
"I don’t want to be your pet. I don’t want anything to do with it."
He moves closer and runs his finger over my bottom lip.
"Can you trust me enough to stay, for the time being?" I look in his eyes and he's so determined.
I nod. "I'll stay and I'll think about it. But only because of what's happened. I need some time."
"Fine. I'll give you a few days. But only a few, Eve."
He stands once more and turns, leaving me alone on the bed.
* * *
A few days pass and he leaves me completely alone as if punishing me for delaying. Servants come in to bring me vials of his blood, food and pour a bath for me when I need it, carting in pitchers and buckets of hot water.
I go over things in my mind, wondering if I can do this. Part of me says to just give in and agree to be his pet, but part of me resists. I gaze out the window at the city and there are fires burning because there's no way to put them out. W
ater stopped working a while ago, and without a pump and well, there's no fire service. When a fire starts, it burns until it's completely razed to the ground.
The servant brings me the hand-printed news that's limited to a single sheet and every morning I read it with my morning coffee and toast. People are dying of diseases that once were treated with our medicines, but they've run low and plants that once made them no longer operate. If we can't find a way to stop the plague, it will circle the globe and civilization will crumble completely.
* * *
On the third night, I sit at the piano and play my repertory, but it offers little comfort. Finally, Michel comes to me while I sit at the piano staring out the window at the dark city that used to sparkle like glittering diamonds. He sits beside me at the piano and leans close to me.
"Eve, I need you to agree. You need to practice being my pet so we can perform for Soren when he calls. Perform for the others who'll be watching us."
"I know," I say, my throat closing. "I just hate it – having to do it."
"I understand."
We sit there for a few moments.
"Play something for me first," I say, feeling melancholic for the time when we were happy. I read about it. I felt his memories of it, but I have no real memory of it.
"What would you like me to play?"
"Chopin."
I move over on the bench and let him sit in proper position. He hesitates, his hands resting on the keys.
"Nocturne No. 11 in G," he says and starts to play. It's a sad piece that makes my throat choke. He would play such a piece, as if to drive home how serious everything is. When it's done, I sigh.
"Play something happier," I say.
"I shouldn’t be playing," he says. "You should play."
"I love to hear you play. It's a side of you that made me love you in the first place."