by Lund, S. E.
“I’ll never know what might have been different, will I?”
Michel exhales loudly. “No, but I know what would have been different. You wouldn’t prefer what you would have become had Soren found you when you were eleven.”
I touch his shoulder deliberately, trying to join with him. “Show me.”
He pulls away, frowning. “No,” he says, his voice low. “I don’t even want to see what might have been had you not been taken away, had your father not been put in the asylum…” He finally turns to face me once more. His expression is earnest when he speaks, his voice breaking. “There was no choice for me, Eve. No choice.”
“Show me, or I won’t believe you. I want to know.” I move closer and weasel my way onto his lap so that I face him, our eyes almost on the level. When he looks in my eyes, I feel how my body affects him, how his heart races, how his limbs all become heavy, how desire for me infuses him.
“Eve…”
“Just a brief glimpse,” I say, my voice soft. “Think of it as evidence for why you did what you did. Show me what I would have become.”
“You would have become like Marguerite, happily being with all of us at once,” he says. “Why do you think she tried to make Julien and me jealous of each other? All she knew was sex. She used sex to manipulate us and it was Soren who taught her, beginning at a young age. He took her in the fourth century, Eve, from her family. Wealthy women and women of noble birth were married when they were twelve. Soren wouldn’t have hesitated to take you as his own when you were eleven.”
I don’t really want to see what I would have been, but I need to in order to believe Michel. “Just a brief image, then,” I encourage. “Nothing too explicit.”
He sighs, closing his eyes as if he can’t bear to face it with them open.
We connect, our minds joining, and I see what he sees. In his mind’s eye, I’m sitting on Soren’s lap in a grand house, the surroundings not familiar. I’m wearing a gown of diaphanous material and jewels that are far beyond anything I have ever seen except on television or in movies. I look maybe sixteen. My arm is around Soren’s shoulder and I have a pouty, petulant expression on my face as he feeds me fresh cherries. He’s reveling in feeding me, and then he leans in to kiss me, like he wants to taste the cherry juice on my lips.
I pull my mind away from Michel’s before he does, disgusted by the scene, not wanting to see any more. “Enough!” I say and break our connection. It makes me ill. I don’t care if those were the norms for the medieval period. They were barbaric. That he would be willing to follow the old ways in modern times disgusts me.
“How young was I when he first—” I started to ask, not able to finish.
“In that version? Fourteen. The minimum age of marriage with parental consent is fourteen in Massachusetts.”
I shudder at the thought. “I thought he made me for you and Julien.”
“He did, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have preferred to marry you so that you’d be his possession, to give to us when he chose.”
“You would have taken me if he gave me to you?”
Michel sighs. “No,” he says. “We agreed that we wouldn’t have you—neither of us—but we knew that’s what he’d want. We’d fight Soren instead. Soren created you as bait, but Julien and I agreed not to accept his bait. We were, despite our differences, united on that.”
I nod, knowing deep down that while both would have wanted me, trapped by their seemingly timeless love for Danielle, they wouldn’t have used me the way Soren wanted to. The fact I was kept out of Soren’s life, that I escaped that fate, meant I was free to choose between them.
Part of me forgives Michel for his deception, but there’s a part of me that holds back completely forgiveness. Why couldn’t he have told me the truth? Did he think I’d run off to the asylum and try to rescue my father?
When I think of it, that’s exactly what I would have wanted to do. It would have tortured me to know he was sane but being kept locked up. I would have fought both Julien and Michel, insisting that we try to rescue my father.
Michel reaches out and takes my hand. “I’m so sorry, Eve. There’s nothing I can do to make this up to you. I know that. Please believe me when I say I was faced with two impossible choices. I chose the best I could at the time.”
“What else are you hiding from me?” I ask, not yet ready to forgive him enough to continue what we started. I slip my hand out of his, maintaining the distance between us.
Michel doesn’t say anything in reply. That tells me one thing: he is keeping other secrets.
“Tell me that whatever other secrets you’re keeping are to protect me at least,” I implore.
He turns to me, his eyes haunted. “If I could tell you everything, with no harm to come to you, I would.” He moves closer and there’s nowhere for me to go. “Don’t you understand that if I could, I’d take you somewhere far away so that it was just the two of us?” He reaches up and runs the backs of his fingers against my cheek. “I love you, Eve.”
When he leans in and kisses me, I don’t stop him. I kiss him back, but when his lips part to deepen the kiss, I pull away.
His expression is hurt but he doesn’t protest. He knows that it’s too soon. There have been too many revelations in too short a period of time for me to simply fall into his arms the way he might want me to and the way I might have only a week ago.
“I better go back to my room,” I say and rise from the bed. I pull the t-shirt over my head and leave Michel. When I reach the door, I turn to him. “Soren will expect us to be together at his residence the way we used to be, but you have to know I can never go back to that.”
“You don’t love me anymore?” His voice is low and choked with emotion.
“I’ll always love you,” I assure him, “but I’m not sleeping with you again. Not until this is all settled and I have my father back.”
“And Julien?”
I sigh. “He hasn’t lied to me again and again.”
Michel exhales, and turns his head away. “Don’t be too certain of that.”
I stop, the door partly open. “What do you mean? If you know something he hasn’t told me, tell me now.”
Michel turns back to me, his eyes finally meeting mine. “Ask him yourself. They’re his secrets to tell, not mine.”
I frown, angry at Michel for laying the groundwork for doubt about Julien in my mind. I leave his room, closing the door behind me.
* * *
I tiptoe through the hallways back to my bedroom, but Julien is standing in the hallway just outside my door.
I come to a stop, my breath catching in my throat.
“Julien…” I hold my hand against my throat. “I didn’t see you. Have you been waiting outside my door for long?”
“Long enough to hear you speaking with Michel.”
I push past him, opening the door to my room. He follows me inside. I don’t face him because right now, I'm too upset. “Then you know I went in there to find out the truth about my father, not for sex, so stop being jealous.”
I hear the door to my bedroom close and then a low chuckling from Julien.
“Not ever going to stop that, Eve. Give up on that hope now.”
I turn and see the hint of a grin on his lips. It makes me relax just a bit and I close my eyes in relief that he’s able to joke. That means he’s not too hurt.
I take him in with one long glance. He’s standing just inside my bedroom, dressed only in a pair of black boxer briefs, the rest of his very buff body illuminated by the moonlight flooding in from the window. He’s breathtakingly beautiful with his short dark hair and several days’ growth of whiskers on his very square jaw. A tattoo marks his forearm and his neck below his ear. He is perhaps the most desirable man I've ever met—besides Michel. His blue eyes regard me possessively and that sense of possession sends a jolt of desire through my body.
“If you’re going with Michel tomorrow, I want you tonight.”
As m
uch as my body thrills to those words and the way he’s looking at me—like a predator surveying its prey—I think it’s a mistake to make love with him. I’m still upset over learning the truth directly from Michel’s lips. I’m upset from seeing my father. I’m upset at having to go to Soren’s and pretending all is well with Michel.
Most of all, I’m upset that it’s come to this. My becoming a vampire was for nothing. Soren is still alive and now is cooperating—at least temporarily—with Blackstone in instituting Dominion. I have become my worst enemy and have gained nothing except my imprisoned father. Now I’m strapped with a hunger like no other.
“Go away,” I say and throw myself down on my bed. I grab on to a pillow and can’t stop from sobbing into it. I feel like a petulant child in doing so, but I can’t help it. Everything is just too overwhelming all of a sudden.
Julien comes to the side of the bed and sits down. He lays his hand on my shoulder. His touch does something to me and I cry even harder, unable to control myself. Soon, without knowing how it happens, I’m in his arms. He doesn’t try to kiss me. He rocks me, his arms wrapped around me, his face in the crook of my neck.
“I’m so sorry, Eve,” he whispers, squeezing me more tightly in his embrace. “So sorry…”
Then the walls between us fall and we connect, not consciously doing so, but out of sheer habit, I feel his love for me, feel his regret and sympathy, feel his overwhelming need for me—not only for sex, but for love. He needs my love so deeply it chokes him and chokes me. I didn’t plan on it, but with no barriers between us, it’s impossible to resist each other. Desire wells up inside of me, whether from him or my own body, I don’t know.
Our mouths find each other and we kiss deeply, our tongues searching each other out, our lips pulling at each other. He pushes me down on the bed and continues to kiss me as if his very life depends on it, biting my bottom lip gently before kissing my cheek, my chin, and then my throat.
I’m unable to resist him, his touch overwhelming any lingering resistance.
I’m lost to him. The rest of the world fades into nothingness.
Chapter 94
“Looking back, I have this to regret, that too often when I loved, I did not say so.”
R. S. Baker
I sleep all that day and wake up in the early morning hours of Saturday, still not back in sync with the normal daytime / nighttime cycle. Julien's body is next to me on the bed, sheets tangled between his legs. I didn’t ask him to go back to his room because I have no idea if or when we will be together again. All I know is that I needed him to be with me when I awoke off and on, contemplating our next move with Soren.
Julien stirs, rolling over so that he's on his back, a pillow over his face. "Did you sleep?" he asks, his voice soft.
"Like the dead," I reply, snuggling closer to him, throwing one of my legs over his. "I feel as if I could sleep for a week.”
“It’s the daywalking drug. You need more sleep for a few days.”
“I'll sleep on the trip and when we get to Soren's."
"You'll have to sneak off and spend some time with me or I won't be able to go through with this," he says as he slips his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer. "I can't stand the thought of you being with him not with me. I hate this, Eve."
I run my hand over his pectoral muscles, the skin smooth and warm beneath my fingers. "I'll try. Won't Soren want you there too? He likes the fact that the three of us are together."
"Soren really has a blind spot when it comes to Michel. Hates and loves him. He sees me as being too tainted by my relationship with Blackstone. He's suspicious about my involvement."
"You didn't know about the plan either," I say in protest. "Dylan pulled one over on all of us. I didn't know about the plan until the last minute. I mean, I knew about it and approved it, but I didn't even really know about it on a day to day basis."
"I truly didn't know about the final details,” Julien says, “but I knew the Council had some plan. I thought I'd be involved in it in a completely different way than I was. Soren knows I saved you and that Michel didn't want to. He still wants Michel to be by his side. I'm persona non grata."
"I don't like being separated from you," I admit, "but we have to do this. There's no choice."
"I know." He rolls over on top of me, making me breathless.
Then, someone—Michel, of course—knocks at the door to the bedroom.
"Eve?"
It's Dylan, returned from whatever errand took him away earlier
"Yes?" I say as Julien nuzzles my neck.
"Michel is out loading up the vehicle. He says you need to get ready."
"Okay." I push Julien off me and roll out of bed. He groans and tries to grab my foot and pull me back but I resist, giggling. "Julien!"
Finally, he kisses my foot and looks in my eyes, his expression sad. "Come back to me," he says, choking up. "Don't disobey Soren at all. Be a good girl. I don't want you to die. I couldn't go on if anything happened to you."
"Don't worry about me."
He shakes his head. "I do worry about you. You're far too headstrong for your own good. Michel is right about this, Eve. You must simply comply. Obey. I know you don't like it, but it'll keep you alive so we can be together again. Promise me."
I inhale and consider. I hate promising something I know I won't be able to keep.
"Promise me!" He frowns, his brow furrowed.
"Okay," I say and nod. "I promise I'll be so obedient, they won't believe I'm the same girl."
"Don't be too good, or Soren will force you to disobey just to get a reaction. As much as he might protest about obedience, I think he really likes those he can't completely dominate."
"It must be lonely being the only one of your kind,” I observe. “There’s no one like him, besides the Twelve."
Julien shakes his head. "Feeling sorry for him?"
"Not one bit,” I reply. “I hate him. I want to see him destroyed. But still, I can't imagine being like him. That's why I don’t want to ascend, Julien."
"It's not so bad. It would make you more immune to everything. You really should."
I dress quickly. "I can daywalk now. That's all I need."
He says nothing, watching as I pull on my clothes and smooth my hair back into a ponytail.
"I'm not sleeping with Michel again," I say to Julien when he pulls me between his thighs. "I can't forgive him, so don't be too jealous."
"I'll believe that when I hear Michel complain," Julien says. He kisses my neck, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face.
"I'm serious, Julien. I told him I wouldn't sleep with him again."
Julien nods, but says nothing. I know there's no way I can convince him otherwise so I merely kiss him, my hands cupping his face and stroking the whiskers on his jaw.
"I love you," I say when I see the expression in his eyes. "I'm coming back to you as soon as this is all over."
"I love you. More than you can know." He pulls me against him, his arms wrapping tightly around me. "Oh, God, Eve," he whispers against my throat. "I'm so afraid you'll never come back."
I smile. "I will."
We kiss once more. It's tender at first but soon turns almost desperate. He tries to pull me back down onto the bed.
"Stop it," I say softly, pushing gently on his shoulders. "I have to go."
He takes my face in his hands, his eyes locked on mine. "Come back to me."
He releases me and I leave him sitting on the bed, his head turned away as if he can't stand to watch me go. I don’t look back when I close the door behind me, uncertain whether I’ll ever see him again.
Downstairs, Michel is waiting for me in the car. Dylan helps me with my bag and I climb in beside Michel. Dylan leans in through the passenger door window and kisses my cheek.
"Be safe, sister. We'll meet again soon. Don't worry about Julien. I'll take care of him."
I nod, but am so choked up I can't speak, watching him as we drive off until he become
s a small speck in the distance.
* * *
The trip is uneventful. Michel doesn't make much conversation and I don't try either. Both of us are focused on how to behave now that we're going to be playacting as lovers instead of really being together. I'll have to show Michel affection in front of Soren or he'll be suspicious and force the issue. I know what he's like. He wants me with Michel so he can torture us.
I watch Michel out of the corner of my eye as we drive down the back roads to Soren's compound. Every so often, I know he wants to say something but stops himself. I don't encourage him.
Maybe it’s cruel of me, but I'm sick to death of all his lies. I’m tired of his refusal to be open and truthful with me about anything outside of his lust for me.
At least Julien tells me the truth.
I snooze most of the trip, my head leaning against my bag on the side of the car. I'm jolted when the car goes over a large bump, and blink awake. We're almost there and my stomach is all butterflies, wondering what Soren will do once we arrive.
Will he be his usual charming self? Will he delight in his triumph and wallow in it? I have no idea what to expect. I’d think he'd want to kill me. He probably does, but is going to use me first then throw me away, like he threw Danielle over the walls of Carcassonne and onto the garbage heap.
I remember that scene from Julien's manuscript. It comes back to me as we drive down the streets towards Soren's mansion. Michel was broken over it, but he was forced to kill Danielle just as he was forced to kill my mother. I remember the description of Julien searching for Michel and finding him digging her grave with his bare hands, his nails torn off, his fingers bloody.
Then, what does Soren do to torture Michel even more? Creates me to torment him and bring him out of his self-imposed celibacy so that Soren can gain power and rule as a god.
I turn and look at him, my gaze moving over his profile, so beautiful with his square jaw, soft mouth, perfectly straight nose, and long, thick black lashes. His hair falls in waves down the back of his neck. God, he's so handsome…