by Lund, S. E.
He relents and plays another Chopin piece. "Tristesse," he says. "Etude in E Major."
It's less somber, but still very emotional, the movement starting off slow and dreamy, but it builds to a crescendo and it's just as intense as the other piece he played. And I think that this is Michel – these pieces he chose to learn to play. Despite his attempt to be controlled and calm, inside there's this fury and passion.
When he's done, he turns to me, leaning against me, his arm pressed against mine as if he craves just being able to touch me. He reaches out to touch my face with the backs of his fingers. "I love you. I need you to help me fight Soren. My only desire is to stop him and to save you, Eve. Nothing else."
I take in a deep breath, and while his words make sense somewhere in my brain, I fight it out of fear.
"Just obey me without hesitation. Do as I command. When we're around other vampires, and especially with Soren, obey me. Show deference. This is the only way he'll trust you. Once he trusts that you're all in, we strike."
"You’ve seen it?"
"I've seen it. We don't have the luxury of time," he says and strokes my hair.
""Okay," I say. "I agree." I smile, but it falters. "What happens first? Will we be lovers again?"
"Yes, Eve," he says, and strokes my cheek. "The first thing I'll do is kiss you." He strokes my cheek with the backs of his fingers, looking at my mouth. "Stop trying to control everything. Stop trying to know everything. Let this happen. But, if it makes you feel better, we'll have supper. Go for a walk. Share a bath later. You'll need to feed and we'll go to bed."
"It's so hard," I say, my throat tight. "To trust someone enough to obey."
"I know. You have every right not to trust anyone, especially me," he says and pauses. "Perhaps I should say, trust me to move as slowly as I can, given the circumstances we're in."
I nod, and take in a deep breath, then sign my name, my hands shaking. He turns back and brushes hair off from my cheek, his eyes searching my face. He cups my cheek and leans in, his lips brushing my other cheek softly before bending down to kiss my neck where he bit me, his tongue wet against my skin and it sends a shock of desire through me that surprises me.
He moves back to my face, his lips poised just over my mouth. Then he kisses me, his mouth soft on mine, his lips together. A tender kiss that surprises me, for I expected him to overwhelm me. Instead, it's such a sweet, sweet kiss that goes on for a long moment. He pulls away and just smiles at me, his gaze moving over my face, his hands stroking my hair.
"You’re mine. Together, we'll kill him."
Chapter 74
"The way to love anything is to realize that it may be lost."
Gilbert. K. Chesterton
* * *
"Now, you must be starving," he says and takes my hand. "From this moment forward, you have to obey me without question. You need practice in obedience."
"I do need practice," I say sarcastically.
"Our meal is ready. Please put on one of the dresses in the armoire. I think I want you in the white dress with nothing on underneath. Then, once you're dressed, we'll eat."
He pulls me over to the huge antique armoire, and opens it. Inside, it's lined with cedar and on a rack hang a dozen dresses – gowns of different colors and fabrics, all of them looking like they're out of couture shops in New York.
He takes out a white gown and holds it up to me. It's a diaphanous shift with thin straps and is made of a material that feels like the finest silk.
"Here," he says and takes it off the hanger, returning the empty hanger to the rack and closing the armoire. "Dress while I watch."
He pulls up an ornate chair and sits, his hands on the armrests, his legs wide, his head to the side. I stand in front of him and hesitate. He watches me expectantly.
"Don't be shy, Eve. I've seen you naked before. Every inch of you."
I shrug one shoulder. Of course he has. But still… Things are different now.
"Eve, there's nothing you can't try, nothing you can't feel with me. No reason to be embarrassed. Please, change into the gown."
I hang the dress over the foot of the bed and undress while he watches, acutely aware of his eyes on me. I remove my sweater and jeans, and then my bra and panties, folding each item and placing them on the chest at the base of the bed. I quickly pull the white dress over my head, and while I have the dress just around my neck, I catch sight of him and his eyes are fixed on my nakedness, his nostrils flaring, lips parted.
It arouses me – that look of complete possession.
I slip the gown down over my body and adjust it. My nipples are hard from the chill in the air and clearly visible through the thin fabric as must be my pubic hair.
"Is this appropriate for dinner?"
"Don't question my choices, Eve. If I picked it, you can trust that it's entirely appropriate."
"You're enjoying this whole control thing, aren’t you?" I say.
"Believe me, I'd much prefer that you and I were living as a couple somewhere on the coast of Wales rather than this, but we have to play this game to convince Soren and every other vampire in his coven that you're truly my pet. When you're a pet, you're expected not to speak until I ask you a question. If I want to know what you think about something, I'll ask. For the first while, until you're used to it, when you answer a question or if you need to ask me something, start with 'Please, my Lord, or Please, Sire. Do you understand?"
I nod.
"Say it out loud, Eve, so I know you understand."
"Yes," I say and force out the words. "My Lord."
"You don't mean it," he says and his voice is quiet, "but you have to convince everyone else."
"I've never been a good actor," I say. "I'll try."
"There is no try."
I smile sadly, remembering an entry in my journal describing him talking so long ago about me being his Adept. I had no idea this was what he meant.
He takes my hand and leads me out of the bedroom.
"What about my feet?' I say and look around.
"I want you barefoot, and please, remember the rules."
"Oh, I'm sorry," I say. "My Lord."
"I know it will grate on you, but when this is all done, you'll be free to be your own person again. Free of all of us, if you want." He pulls me into an ornate dining room lit by dozens of candles. A long dark wood table that could seat thirty people has a place setting for Michel at the end and one for me at his side. Michel pulls out my chair and seats me while the servant lays a napkin on my lap. Michel takes a seat and removes his own napkin and I hope my table manners are up to his standards as a member of the former Occitan nobility.
"I'm not sure if I know the right fork to use," I say and smile, checking out the array of cutlery. Michel leans over and places his finger over my lips.
"Eve, remember – speak only when I ask you to or when you have a question."
I grimace. "Sorry," I say when he removes his finger, flustered at breaking the rules again so soon. "My Lord," I add quickly, but then my back stiffens just a bit. He doesn't want me to just speak when I feel like it. A flush spreads over my cheeks from anger. But then I remember how Luke's blood slave behaved and I understand this is part of teaching me what's expected of me when we're on stage in front of Soren.
"Can I call you something other than 'My Lord'? What about Sir?"
He shakes his head. "You called Julien 'Sir' and I don't want you thinking of him unnecessarily. Always My Lord in public."
I sigh. I don't know what feels the most natural. "My Lord, then."
"If you misbehave in public, I'll have to punish you. "
He raises his eyebrows at that.
"My Lord, if I may ask," I say, after taking a sip of wine. "What would you do, exactly, to punish me? Do you have a dungeon somewhere in the depths of this house? Will you go all medieval on me if I disobey you?"
"I am medieval, Eve. I was born in 1194. I grew to be a man in that time. I try to keep up with modern trend
s, but unlike Julien, my psyche is medieval. You have to understand that. And no," he says. "I don't have a dungeon in the basement. If you disobey, you'll get a good spanking, usually with my own hand."
"You wouldn't actually spank me in public?"
"I'd have to threaten to," he says.
The servant comes over to our table and holds a tray of food out for Michel to inspect.
Michel examines the dish – some kind of roast meat. He nods and motions to me. The servant holds the tray out and I shake my head and turn back to Michel expectantly.
"Eve, you must eat," Michel says. "The roast venison is excellent."
"I'm a vegetarian."
He frowns and waits.
"My Lord," I say and exhale.
"Eve, there will be little protein for you, given the food shortages. I doubt tofu is in big supply in the stores and the cheese will run out very soon because of supply chain failures. You must eat the food we can get and not be so picky. When did you become a vegetarian and why?"
I sigh. "I don't remember," I say. I give in and take a slice of the roast. It looks good and smells good. Then I shake my head. "My Lord," I say, exasperated.
He grins while he inspects a tray of vegetables and roasted potatoes. "Be thankful you don't have to call me My Lord Bishop or Your Excellency." Then he glances at me, his blue eyes wicked.
"Don’t make me call you Your Holiness," I say and laugh, remembering that Soren wants him as his Pope. Then I cover my mouth. "My Lord," I add quickly.
He's smiling as he helps himself to some food. When the servant leaves, Michel takes my hand and bows his head. He makes the sign of the cross and says grace, something I remember from my own days when I still believed in the God of the Catholic Church.
Father of us all,
This meal is a sign of Your love for us:
Bless us and bless our food,
And help us to give you glory each day.
Through Jesus Error! Hyperlink reference not valid. our Lord.
Amen
He makes the sign of the cross once more but he can’t expect me to profess a faith I don’t possess.
"You see, Eve," he says and lets go of my hand. "We are all obedient to someone. Even a former Viscount, Bishop for a Week and eight-hundred-year old vampire."
I smile and then we eat. I haven't eaten with him very often – never in such a formal way and despite everything we've been through, I barely know him.
I didn’t realize how hungry I am and eat with relish, having eaten mostly peanut butter, beans and rice since the red rain fell. Roast venison and root vegetables from the garden are so much better.
I don't say anything while we eat, nor does he. I wait to see what he wants. Finally, he turns to me, chewing thoughtfully, his brow creased.
"So, Eve," he says. "Tell me how you're feeling."
I put my knife and fork down and pick up my glass of wine.
"My Lord, I was just wondering, are you expecting me to be your servant as well as your pet?"
He adjusts his position and considers what I've asked. "Do you mean, will I expect you to wait on me? Pour my wine, wash my hair, dress me?"
I nod. "I wondered…"
He raises his eyebrows.
"Oh, sorry. My Lord…" I say, emphasizing the title. I heave a sigh. This is harder than I imagined.
"Only if we're in public, or if someone is with us. Then, I expect you to attend to my needs, whatever they are."
I nod and smile. "Very good, my Lord. Just so I know. Tell me, do all vampires like this kind of thing? This whole human pet game?"
"We live for it," he says and pours me more wine. He returns to his food and I watch him eat for a moment. He looks so at home in this sumptuous setting, dressed in a white shirt open at the collar and black tunic like he wore at Soren's party. I could see him with lace at his cuffs and neck. Against his pale skin and dark hair, lace would be very attractive.
"Why did you want to be a priest? You're so handsome. I can't imagine the girls of Carcassonne were happy to see you take up the cross."
He glances at me and picks up his glass of wine, but says nothing. Finally, he puts his glass down and waits, staring straight ahead.
I inhale sharply when I realize I haven't used the proper form of address.
"Crap," I say. "I'm sorry, my LORD." Exasperation fills me. "Can't I just say it once and have that count for the entire meal?"
He turns a jaundiced eye towards me. "That's not how it works, Eve. Each time you address me, you must use the appropriate title. It shows respect. Deference. It reinforces our power difference. That's the whole point of this. Soren expects you to be my pet and blood slave. You must always show deference to me and every other vampire."
"It's just that I don't know if I can remember to use the proper title all the time," I say. "My Lord."
"It would be easier if you start out with My Lord rather than using it at the end of a sentence. For example, you might say, 'My Lord, I was wondering if you're planning to fuck me senseless tonight?' That way, you won't forget to use the title. Concentrate…" He smiles wickedly at me, his eyes hooded. I can't help but smile back, heat rising in my cheeks, the thought of him fucking me senseless tonight sending a stab of desire through my body, making my breath hitch.
I take a big sip of wine.
"My Lord, after you've said something like that, how can you expect me to concentrate? But I'll try."
"As to what I said about fucking you senseless tonight," he adds, "you can expect to it every night at least once. And every morning at least once. You don't have to wonder or ask. Expect it."
"You're enjoying this," I say, frowning.
"Eve," he says and reaches out to me, taking my hand. He kisses my knuckles. "I love you. I would love to do anything with you. Even the smallest thing. Never forget that."
My body can't help but respond to what he's said and for a moment, I'm a bit flustered.
"Now, I feel like a walk around the grounds for some air." He motions to a servant standing at the side of the room. "Bring Miss Hayden's white sweater and her sandals from her room." The servant immediately bows and leaves us.
Michel takes my arm in his and leads me out of the dining room and into the main foyer, which is grand, the centerpiece a huge chandelier lighting the area that has been fitted with real candles.
The servant returns and Michel helps me slip on my sweater and sandals. I feel a bit exposed with this thin shift that's so transparent, but the servants are very good at not looking at my body. I expect Michel's given them orders. This must be the way things were run back when he was a human. His father was a Viscount.
"Soon, we must be more careful," Michel says as we leave the house and start walking around the grounds. There are lanterns on the path spaced out every twenty feet or so, but still, it's dark. "The vampires will start coming out at night. I'm safe, my grounds are likely safe, at least for a while. They know who and what I am, but at some point, Blackstone may consider attacking me because I'm with Soren."
"Are you?" I say. "My Lord? Are you really with him? I thought you were just there to watch and wait for the right time to destroy him."
"I have to appear to be with him, just as you have to appear to be completely under my control. He must believe we are both his creatures. The average Blackstone operative must think I am with Soren. Only our own people who have infiltrated Blackstone know what my plans are so I can defend myself. Once human authorities recognize the threat Soren poses, they'll come after me as well. I hope we can deal with Soren before it comes to that."
"What's the plan?" I wait, but then remember. "My Lord, forgive me."
He says nothing, just keeps his hand clasped over mine, which is resting on his forearm as we walk.
"You have to give up your need to know. I know. That has to be enough for you. You must stop asking and just let things happen. Take your cues from me. Let me lead. All you need to do is obey. I'll take care of everything else. Trust me, Eve
."
I say nothing for a moment. "My Lord," I say finally. "Trust is the hardest thing for me."
"I know. You have no reason to trust me, considering. All I can do is ask that for once, you do. Wholly and completely."
I look at him as we walk – at his pale skin, his dark hair that hangs below his collar, a bit wild. His blue eyes, so intelligent and determined. I want to trust. I'm craving it. I want to feel completely relaxed for once in my life. Not on guard.
I just don't know if that will ever be possible.
Chapter 75
"The way of love is not a subtle argument."
Rumi
* * *
We arrive back at the front entrance and enter the building through open double doors. He stops and drops my hand, speaking with a servant for a moment. Then he comes back to me and takes my hand, leading me into another room where sits a huge grand piano.
"Play for me, Eve."
I take my seat on the bench. Michel sits beside me and leans against me, his arm touching mine. He smiles, and it's so soft and affectionate, it makes my throat a bit choky. At times, he seems so formal and commanding, and at others he seems so open and tender.
"My Lord, what would you like me to play?"
He sorts through sheet music on the stand and selects one.
"Chopin, the Ballade of course."
I play the piece as best I can, and when I finish, he leans closer to me, pressing against my arm and shoulder when he does. He turns slightly and nestles his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling to smell my perfume.
"I think that's enough piano for now," he whispers, his mouth at my ear, his hair tickling my cheek. "Your scent intoxicates me." He pulls back, looking in my eyes and I can see his desire on his face, in his half-lidded eyes, his parted lips. He's breathing a bit faster now.
"Here," he says and pulls me deeper into the bedroom, leading me to the bed so that I sit on the edge. He reaches for the box and opens it to reveal a thin black velvet choker with a small black and white cameo pendant. "This is a gift for you – the symbol my family. You have to wear it all the time."