by Lund, S. E.
"Of course he will," Michel says, exasperation in his tone. "How better to torture Julien and me than to have you there with both of us in attendance? As to us living there, he wants you and I and Julien to be with him all the time, the way it was back when we were first under his servitude."
Apprehension fills me. Michel must sense it for he releases something in my brain and I relax, leaning against him, my head resting on his shoulder.
"Now," he says and runs his finger over the tops of my breasts. "Put those documents aside. No more snooping and no more reading things you don't have to know. The servants are fixing me that bath I missed and I want you to do all the work, washing every single inch of me."
I look up in his eyes and see that lopsided grin and smile back.
Once the servants finish filling the bath, I wait for Michel to give me my orders. He stands beside the tub and feels the water. Finally, he turns to me.
"You should be naked when you do this, Eve. I don't want that gown to get wet."
"My Lord, that sounds like an excuse to get me naked," I say and can't help but smile, so I turn away to try to hide it.
I hear him cluck in mock disapproval and smile more widely, angry at myself for enjoying this as much as I am but I said all in.
I expect that's what this means.
Chapter 77
"Who so loves believes in the impossible."
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
* * *
We arrive at Soren's mansion in time for the evening meal after a day spent either in bed or walking the grounds. I'm nervous as we enter a huge mansion in Cambridge that looks to be right out of Pride and Prejudice. Michel does everything he can to relax me. I remember reading about that night in Franklin Park when I first was in the presence of other vampires and how Michel calmed me. He's doing that now and I'm thankful, for otherwise my heart would be pounding, my instinct just to run. That or run to Soren and kill him with my bare hands. I must be on my best behavior, but not too good. Soren won't believe it. He has to see Michel discipline me.
Thankfully, Michel's left it up to me to decide what it will be.
I don't want to please Soren too much through my misbehavior. At the same time, if I'm too well-behaved, he might feel it's just an act. He wants to know whether Michel will do what it takes to ensure my compliance.
I can't be compelled. I can be controlled – at least, that's the purpose of this whole blood slave pet thing. To control me so I'll be the good little Adept when Soren needs me.
A host of servants greet us. Some take our trunks out of the cart, while others take our coats. I walk beside Michel but a pace behind him. Michel's instructed me to keep my eyes averted unless he speaks directly to me, addressing me by name. I'm not to let my eyes wander around the room. No matter what I hear, I'm to sit at Michel's side like a good pet and keep my eyes down, waiting for his questions or orders.
We enter a large salon and Soren is seated at a table playing backgammon with Julien. When I see Julien, my heart does a little flip flop and I hate Soren more than anything. He's truly a bastard and despite what Michel's done to calm me, my heart rate increases. Michel can sense my emotions and turns to me briefly, squeezing my hand as if for courage. He releases a little something in my brain to ease my anxiety and I walk behind him, keeping my eyes on his back, slightly lowered so that I don’t meet anyone's eyes.
I can't see Soren like this, but I can hear him.
"Ahh, here's the lovely couple," he says, his voice ebullient. "All flush with hormones from their day of fucking."
So much for Michel's efforts. When I hear that, and the tone to his voice – mocking and ridiculing, and knowing that it was meant to injure Julien – I have to clench my fists, digging my nails into my palms to block the feelings of hatred that fill me.
"Come, child, and let me look at you. What did Michel dress you in tonight?"
I stand still, frowning. Am I supposed to go to him? I wait for Michel to command me.
"Go, Eve."
I glance up at him and he nods, his face calm, but his lips are pressed tight.
I walk to where Soren stands by the backgammon table, trying not to look at him or Julien directly, but I can see them in the periphery of my vision. Soren's dressed like some eighteenth-century Lord in a navy morning suit with lace at the collar. Julien is wearing a dark grey suit with a white shirt open at the collar. I feel his eyes on me, and it takes every ounce of strength I have not to look at him to see how he's taking it. I hope Soren has compelled him to not feel jealous, but I suspect it’s precisely Julien's jealousy that Soren is trying to elicit with this charade. I clench my fists, anger boiling inside of me.
"I love your gown. What color is that Michel? Violet? It brings out the flecks in her eyes, I'll bet. May I?"
Soren takes my chin in his hand and lifts my head so that I look at his face. I try to avoid his eyes, but he moves his head around until I can't avoid meeting his gaze.
"There, let me look at your eyes, Eve. Yes. They're just like hers, aren’t they Michel? Julien, wouldn’t you agree? Just like lovely Danielle."
Soren's smirking. Neither Julien nor Michel says a word. Soren takes my hands and turns my palms over, inspecting the damage I've done to them with my fingernails.
"Tsk tsk, Eve. So angry. So much passion! No wonder Michel would move heaven and earth to keep you to himself. Or should I say bomb his own entourage? Leaving poor Julien to imagine you dead. He grieved, Eve. Did you know that he wept like a baby when he saw what he thought was your dead body? Can you imagine his broken heart? No you can't, can you? Here," he says and takes my face in his hand. "Let me show you."
I pull away. "Stop," I say and turn my face away. I can't imagine it. I don't want to see it.
"I don't think so, Eve. You should see it. Quite the heart, our Julien has, despite the bravado and denial."
He takes my face in his hands and I can't resist him. I see Julien through Soren's eyes.
After the phone call, they rush to the site of the bombing only to find that Michel is gone, as is Vasily. The coroner is there inspecting the dead, and there's a body on the ground by Michel's limousine, a sheet over top.
Julien leaves Soren's car at a run and asks the police officer on scene where I am.
The cop asks who he is and Julien says he's my boyfriend. The cop makes a face and points to the body.
Julien stumbles to what he thinks is my body and kneels beside it, bending over it, one hand resting on the body while the other covers his eyes. His shoulders are shaking. Soren can't believe it himself and comes over, lifting the sheet from the body to check. The face and torso are burned horribly, as is a lot of the hair, but it's fair like mine and about the right length. The woman is about my height. It looks like it could be me. Then Julien reaches to the corpse and fingers a golden crucifix on a chain around its neck.
Julien finally covers his face with both hands and bends down close to the body, and I can hear him sobbing. He's actually sobbing. Soren rests his hand on Julien's shoulder for comfort, and Julien turns to him, leaning against Soren's leg like a child might a parent. Soren calms Julien with a touch and he soon stops weeping, his face wet, his eyes closed. Soren bends down to pull Julien up, one hand beneath his arm but Julien resists, turning back.
"I want it!" he says, and reaches down to take the crucifix from around the dead woman's neck. Soren lets him, watching while Julien gingerly removes it and slips it around his own neck. Then, Soren helps Julien up and he's like a zombie, almost dragged to Soren's vehicle.
The vision stops and I can't help but respond to the emotions I see. Tears fill my eyes that Julien would cry. It's so unlike what I expected of him.
"He gave you back to Michel when Michel returned from Pittsburgh despite his fears that Michel would get you killed," Soren says. "Can you imagine how he felt once he thought you were truly dead? He thought he'd been right to fear that fate, blaming himself for your death. Then – a miracle and he finds y
ou alive! You go back with him, stay with him and become his proper lover, only to go back with Michel? What a little siren you are. Neither brother can resist you."
I bite my cheek until I taste blood to stop my tears. I won't give him the pleasure of my response. Soren says nothing for a moment, watching me.
"So much self-control, Eve. You surprise me." Then he turns to Michel. "Please, come and join us by the fire, Michel. Take a seat. Drinks are served."
Michel comes up behind me and places a hand on the small of my back, whisking me to a chair by the fire. He sits and then points to the chair beside him. I imagine that’s where I'll be seated. I sit and he lays a hand on my shoulder, stroking my hair like I'm the household golden retriever.
I can't believe I'm here, doing this, with my mother's killer sitting across from me, smirking. All I want to do is lunge at him and slit his throat but I know that would do nothing. I don’t know how to kill him. I don't even know what he is. All I know is that Soren is my mother's true killer. I no longer blame Michel for her death. I know he was horrified at what he'd done, just as he was with Danielle. It was Soren who was truly responsible and it is Soren who will pay.
I have to keep calm and bide my time until we have the opportunity and the way to do it.
"So, Eve," Soren says, unable to leave me alone, trying to get some kind of response from me. "Are you enjoying your liaison with Michel? I think so, based on what I can glean from your memories of earlier when he was fucking you from behind in the bathroom against the vanity. You looking at him in the mirror while he did, thinking about another time and another vanity. That time with Julien. You love them both, don't you – the beautiful identical twin brothers. Fucking them both… I love it! I love you with them. Shameless little thing you've become under Michel's and Julien's tutelage. So glad I pushed the three of you together."
"So am I," I say. It slips out. He's just being such a bastard, gloating, and I can't hold back despite knowing this is exactly what he wants.
"Ah, there's that saucy mouth I enjoy so much," Soren says and grins. "I don’t know where you got it from – certainly not Natalia or Danielle. Was Sean like that, Michel? I don’t think so. Her father was quite the stuffy fellow if I recall correctly, all focused on turning her into a little Mozart. Too bad your mother fucked things up, isn’t it Eve? You might have had an entirely different life if she'd only cooperated with me."
"She was a hero and you're a bastard!" I say, my voice breaking.
"Now, Eve, we've already had this conversation. Bastard is not a term that applies to gods."
"You're no god."
"How would you know? You don’t even believe in one!" Soren says, laughing.
"Certainly not one like you."
Soren smiles, but his eyes betray him. He's not pleased at what I've said, just that I've disobeyed.
"Michel, you really must do something to shut your little minx up. Teach her to show proper respect."
"Eve," Michel says, his voice stern. "Apologize to Soren."
I say nothing, fuming, my breath fast.
"Eve," Michel says, his voice commanding. "Apologize."
I turn to Michel. "I'm sorry I disobeyed your rules, my Lord," I say, trying to wheedle out of apologizing directly to Soren. I bow my head, but he stops me. He tilts my head up and looks in my eyes.
"A proper apology to our host, Eve. Now." He turns me around so that I'm facing Soren, and for a moment, I feel Michel's pleasure that I've resisted apologizing and now that I'm allowing him to discipline me. It's necessary. Soren must believe the charade.
I avert my eyes and mumble an apology. "Please accept my humble apology, my Lord Soren, for showing disrespect towards you."
"Apology accepted, although I doubt it's truly humble, but it’s good enough. Now, let's go to the dining room. I believe our meal is ready."
Just then, Gabrielle joins us from another room. She's dressed in a black velvet gown with a very plunging neckline that displays her sumptuous bosom so well. She walks to Julien and threads her arm through his. They walk behind Soren into the dining room. Michel places his hand on my waist as if to steady me, for I feel slightly faint when I see Julien so calm with Marguerite as if they've been together forever. She's talking to him and leaning in more closely, touching him possessively. Has Soren compelled Julien to be happy being with her?
Soren turns around when he reaches the door to the dining room and smiles back at us, wagging his eyebrows.
"As you can see, Eve, you don't have to worry about dear Julien's broken heart. I've given him a toy to play with. Rather pretty pair they make, don't you think? Just like old times…"
Michel squeezes me, as if to keep me from responding. Soren waits for us.
"You know, Julien was a bit more fond of my Marguerite than Michel ever was. Almost liked her. I think he enjoyed her saucy mouth and I know he enjoyed fucking her. He even protested when Michel decided to kill her. Michel hated her with a passion. Hated that he loved fucking her. Hated being debauched by an eighteen-year old girl. I chose her wisely when I turned her. I hate being bored with a female. Only one with fire can keep my interest."
"Why did you leave her, then?" I say, unable to shut up. "You left her to her own devices and she turned Michel and Julien against their will."
Michel squeezes me again. "Eve, use the proper form of address."
"My Lord, " I add, my tone still impertinent. "Please forgive my lapse."
Soren grins. "Don't be too good, Eve. Michel's probably dying to spank you. Make sure you at least do something to merit it." He walks into the dining room and a huge table that is fit for fifty diners. We're clustered at one end of the table. He waits for us.
"Don't blame her for turning them. She needed someone to make her look respectable. Remember the age, Eve, when you judge her. Back then women weren't allowed to be on their own without male protection. As for me, I had to get some distance from her. Saucy becomes downright annoying after a while. Besides, Julien didn’t want to die. He wanted immortality."
I watch Julien with Gabrielle and he seems happy and attentive to her, pulling out her chair, sitting close to her, leaning in to speak into her ear.
"I know you've compelled him to be happy with her, my LORD, " I say. "If you're trying to make me jealous, it won't work."
Soren shrugs. "You are jealous. I need him happy."
Soren sits at the head of the table, a servant pulling out his chair. Michel seats me and then sits down beside me.
We're served a delicious meal and I wonder how many people are going hungry given what's happening in the world around us. There are roast meats and vegetables, potatoes, sauces, breads, and fruit. A feast. There's wine. Servants hover around us, and as we're being served, a string quartet of musicians enter the dining room and start to play something light, Baroque. Geminiani. Concerto Grosso. I recognize it because my father played in a string quartet for a while.
It feels like we've been transported to the eighteenth century, with the music and décor and candles. I realize that these vampires are used to living without technology. They know how to survive. This is likely why Blackstone decided to attack modern technology. Technology and science give us humans an edge. Without our machines and energy and electronics, we're as helpless as children compared to them with their powers, speed and strength, and knowledge gleaned from hundreds if not thousand of years of existence.
Michel would know how to survive without technology as would Julien.
It's then that I wonder if Michel and Julien truly want to stop Dominion. Julien said he didn't want Dominion because he didn't want humans to be cattle. He likes being a vampire, but also likes humans to exist as we are. For humans to choose vampires as lovers. Michel said he hated the idea of Dominion – he hated vampires and being one.
But here they are, both of them enjoying themselves in this setting. I wonder if, when it comes to it, whether either of them will stop it. Or will they just let it happen and see what the fal
lout brings?
Michel can't be compelled. From what I've read of him in my journal and from what I've felt from him due to our shared connection, he hates being a vampire. He wants vampires and Ancients dead. He wants to die himself, hoping that his efforts to stop Dominion will win him back his immortal soul.
Soren sits there and watches Michel and Julien, drinking his wine and smiling to himself as if he's a puppet master and we're all his puppets. I sit beside Michel and watch Soren covertly, my hatred boiling over despite everything Michel has done to calm me.
Finally, Soren turns to me and I avert my eyes.
"Eve," he says. "How are you doing? Is the food to your taste? I see you've given up your silly vegetarianism."
"My Lord," I say and keep my eyes averted. "I don’t remember being a vegetarian so it doesn't bother me to eat meat."
"Good. When I and the Twelve share your blood and you ours, we'll be counting on you. We need you nice and healthy, full-blooded."
I freeze at that. I know he plans on using me as his 'medium' – I'll share his blood and that of his group of Ancients, and through me, they'll be able to connect to each other the way they once did – or so Michel told me.
At that moment, I realize that I've never seen Soren drink blood. Of course, I've seen Julien and Michel drink blood, but I've never seen Soren. Michel and Julien both have crystal goblets filled with it, and are drinking it to augment their meal of food. Soren has none. He's drinking wine only.
Is he even an Ancient? Is he even a vampire at all? He suggested he's more than what we think he is…
I sit and think of this while Soren chats with Michel about the Council. I listen with half an ear, the other half of my mind wondering what he is. Julien and Gabrielle are leaning in close together, laughing over something private. When I see him with her, I feel a twinge of regret, remembering our time together and how happy I was. How much I enjoyed being with him.
"Michel, have you filled Eve in on what I'm planning?"
Michel takes his napkin and wipes his mouth.