by Lund, S. E.
I just thought of that image only moments before… But my mother and Michel assured me that Soren couldn’t read my mind.
“You’ll do it if you want no matter what we do,” I say, my fight to keep myself under control lost before even a moment has passed.
“You’re right,” Soren says, turning to meet my eyes, his voice filled with self-importance. “I will. If I want to. Right now, I don’t want to.” He turns back to Julien. “But I do so like to see Julien on his knees. You do as well, don’t you Eve?” Soren turns to me again and winks.
What the hell?
Is he referring to what happened between Julien and me in the bathroom? But Michel and my mother said…
No, he didn’t see what happened between us. He couldn’t have. But he knows we’re lovers and is trying to make me believe he sees everything.
How pathetic.
He’s probably furious that he can’t read us and does everything possible to make us believe he can.
He did plant the image of Michel crucified in my mind, knowing it would upset me and that he can bring that up any time with the same result. But the reference to Michel being crucified upside down like St. Peter coming so soon after I thought it… Is Soren able to get into my mind and read my thoughts? Are my mother and Michel wrong?
He’s inserted himself into my mind so many times. Recently, when I learned he was free. When I was in Montana. In the Middle East.
He can get into my head, but can he read my thoughts when he does or is it one way? I’m desperate to test what Michel and my mother claimed, but can’t think of a way at the moment. I feel helpless, waiting for others to put a plan in place that they say will work and that I can’t know.
I only hope this plan works better than the last one.
“I know you were all hoping to see me permanently in stasis, or better yet, dematerialized,” Soren says, “but the best laid plans…”
He winks at me again and then I know he must be able to read my mind. They’re wrong about him.
Fuck you, I think, testing him.
You’d enjoy angel sex, Eve. Don’t tempt me.
Crap. Every ounce of blood I have in my body freezes at that.
Soren strides over to where I stand and stops in front of me, smiling. He tilts my face up so that I have to look in his gloating face, into his eyes, which are amused.
We have a direct line now that you’re ascended and we shared blood. Adepts are different like that—it brings out the capacity in you that we angels once possessed but no longer share without your direct intervention. Michel doesn’t know and neither does your mother. I won’t tell anyone if you won’t, Eve. I was surprised to learn it myself, for I’ve never, in all my days, been faced with Adepts like you four. There never have been Adepts like you. I’ll let Julien live if you keep our little secret. It’s not something I want to become general knowledge.
“Good to see you again, Eve,” Soren says out loud, his lips curling in a feral smile. “Now, we have work to do. I need more power so I can restore the Twelve to their former glory. You’re going to give it to me.”
He returns to Julien, who is still on his knees, his shackled hands in front of him. I’m so busy trying to sort out what Soren’s revelation means that I only give him half my attention.
He can read my mind because I’m now ascended. Is my mother ascended? Dylan is. If that’s the case and he shares blood with Dylan, he’ll be able to read Dylan’s mind as well. I know what I have to do—I have to prevent Dylan from sharing blood with Soren.
While I stand there, trying to figure it all out, Soren motions to a guard who brings forth a metal collar of some medieval design. It’s thick and about an inch wide, with a loop wide enough for a chain to pass through.
“See this, Eve?” Soren says to me. “It’s quite an ingenious design. There’s a spring-loaded blade in the inside. All you have to do is insert a special key and—” He inserts a tiny key into a slot on the outside of the collar and I hear a twang. A thin metal blade springs out, about an inch long and only millimeters wide. I can see that it’s polished, sharp, and deadly.
“You position the blade over the external jugular. Death takes about two minutes. I don’t like to use it, because why waste all that perfectly good blood, but I like the medieval nature of this beast. It will remind Julien of his origins.”
“Please don’t,” I say, my voice choking with emotion. “I’ll comply with you. No hesitation.”
“Oh, so sweet,” Soren says, making a childish face. “You love Julien so much, you can’t bear to put him at risk of a hemorrhage.”
Soren places the collar close to Julien and glances at me, raising his eyebrows questioningly. “Should I?”
“Please…” I whisper.
“What’s really going to freak you out is this,” he says and reloads the latch that holds the small blade in place. He motions me closer and I step forward with reluctance. “Watch this!”
I watch the collar, frozen, as Soren waves his fingers in front of it.
“Abracadabra and alakazam, and all that,” he says. The latch slides aside and the blade springs out on its own with an audible thunk.
Soren can manipulate it with his mind.
“Please,” I say louder.
He smiles at me. “Don’t worry your little head off, Eve. I’m not going to put it on Julien. I want you two to fuck like bunnies and you can’t relax and enjoy if you have the threat of death by exsanguination hanging over your head, now, can you?
Soren takes the collar over to Michel and before any of us can react, he places it around Michel’s neck, closing the two sides of the collar and fastening the lock.
“It’s Michel who will be the true test of your willingness to cooperate. Julien’s far too easy. You’d do anything to keep loverboy alive. But Michel? You two have had a recent falling out, I suspect, so you won’t be fucking, will you?” He turns to me. “Am I right?”
I say nothing, my throat choked from emotion.
Soren adjusts the collar on Michel’s neck and dusts off his shoulders. “Not quite the collar you were expecting, Michel? How does it feel to be collared? Must be hard for someone like you to have the shoe on the other foot...”
Michel says nothing. His face is serene, as if he’s ready to die, and that scares me more than I realized.
“You’ve always wanted to get revenge on Michel for Marguerite’s death,” I say, unable to stop myself. “Who’s to say you won’t do it anyway, no matter how much I cooperate with you?”
“Oh, I love it when you get all rebellious on me, Eve!” Soren says and shivers dramatically. Then his demeanor changes. “Marguerite’s murder, you mean. If I wanted revenge, I could kill him with a thought,” he says, his voice filled with menace. He frowns down at me for a moment and then smiles. “This is just far more fun! You’ll never know if or when, so I’m counting on you to make the right choice when the time comes.”
I’m furious, my fists clenched, tears in my eyes. He has Julien in chains and Michel in the kill collar.
I hate you.
Hate. Love. Two sides of the same coin, Eve. Intense emotion. I’ll take whatever you can give.
I refuse to respond or look at Soren, and stand there, fuming.
Now he knows everything.
Everything, Eve. Remember that. If you let your fellow conspirators know, I’ll use the kill collar on Michel, so don’t let on, now, okay?
Michel fingers the collar on his neck, as if adjusting to the newfound menace he has to live with. He seems unconcerned. Does he believe Soren won’t use it? Does he see a different death for himself? Or is he resigned to it?
At that moment, despite everything, despite all the lies, the deceit, and the manipulation, I realize I still love him, deep down inside of me. I can’t believe it’s possible, but I do. I’ll do whatever I can to prevent Soren from using that collar. I’m sure Soren knows that, and that’s why he’s put it on Michel.
He knows I won’t let
him use it, and that it will cause me tremendous stress.
I’m so tired of it all, so weary from the constant threat we face from the uncertainty, from the sorrow at all the loss, that all I want is to return to my little cottage on the beach and sit on my patio wrapped in a blanket and watching the sunset.
“Take them to their rooms,” Soren says, dismissing us. He goes back around his desk and sits on his chair, pulling Gabrielle down onto his lap once more. He kisses her.
We’re forgotten.
* * *
We follow the guard down the long hallway to the other wing and up the stairs to a large room. There’s a king-sized canopy bed with ostentatious bedding in the center. The furniture is Louis XIV or some number, white and gilded. A sofa and two wing chairs surround an ornate coffee table by a fireplace. Two huge arched windows look out over the grounds.
“Are we all staying here?” I ask when the guard ushers us inside.
A servant brings Julien’s bags, such as they are, and places them on a low seat at the foot of the bed. I see that my spare items are also in the room, as are Michel’s.
Soren is going to force us to stay together. I imagine he wants to force the threesome.
It won’t happen. I promised myself after reading the manuscript that I would never be like Marguerite and be with them in front of each other.
Never is a long time, Eve…
Damn him.
Will you never give me a moment’s peace?
Never is a long time, Eve!
I sigh and watch as Julien drags his chains around, inspecting the room. Finally, he plops down on the sofa, his shackled hands in his lap.
“At least he had the decency to shackle me with my hands in front,” Julien says and cracks a grin.
How he can smile while sitting there with his hands and ankles in chains I’ll never know, but that’s my Julien. A surge of love for him flows through me and I want to kiss him and stroke his cheek, but of course I can’t.
I have to keep my own promises to myself about the twins. Just because Michel and I will never be together again, doesn’t mean I’ll be with Julien in front of him.
Never is a long time, Eve.
I want to shake my hand in the air and curse Soren for intruding on my mind once more, but instead, I stand in the center of the room and squeeze my eyes shut, clenching my fists and gritting my teeth. There has to be a way to keep him out of my mind—some kind of pain I can experience that will be low and constant so he can’t insert himself whenever he feels like it.
I glance around, looking for something—anything—that might do the trick.
Don’t even try, Eve. Remember the collar. I want access.
I sigh and stop what I was doing.
It’s hopeless. There’s nothing I can do except cooperate with him. No matter what I do, he can kill either of the two men that I love—one I love passionately and one I still love, despite everything he’s done to me. I can’t let anyone know that Soren has direct access to my mind or I’ll be nothing more than a direct line to their plots and plans.
It infuriates me, being so helpless.
“I need a drink,” I say. “Is anyone else hungry?”
Julien smiles. “I could use a bite to eat. It’s nice not to crave blood. But a nice slice of juicy venison would do fine.”
I go to the door and crack it open. The guard steps forward and bends down to me.
“Can we get something to eat?” I ask.
The guard nods. “I’ll tell the kitchen to send something up.”
“Thank you.”
I close the door and turn back to the room. Michel is seated on one of the wing chairs and Julien is facing him, examining the old cuffs on his wrists.
“Soren must enjoy the prospect of us being together,” I say. “Let’s not give him any reason to rejoice. I don’t want to fight with either of you, so let’s agree to get along while we’re here.”
Julien laughs. “If I know Soren, and believe me, I do, he’ll be disappointed if there’s no drama.”
“Julien’s right,” Michel says, a half-grin on his face. “Soren lives for drama, especially the kind he creates. But I agree, Eve. No need for drama between us.”
“He expects us to stay together in one big bed?” Julien says, gesturing to the canopy bed with his cuffed wrists.
“We’ll sleep in shifts,” I suggest, going to the bed and lying down. “I’m first.”
I pull back the coverlet and creep in, pulling the blanket over my head so I can block out reality.
It’s not much, but it’s the best I can do.
Chapter 103
“Love is, above all, the gift of oneself.”
Jean Anouilh
Mercifully, the brothers let me sleep for hours, and I’m so exhausted from all the stress and revelations and tears that I don’t even wake up when the servant brings the food in. It’s a dreamless sleep, luckily, so Soren must be too busy with the enchanting Gabrielle to bother me.
When I wake, Julien is standing at the window with his cheek resting against the glass. He looks lost, like he’s given up all hope. For a moment, it alarms me. If Julien has lost hope, what hope do we have? Michel is sipping coffee and reading a newspaper—one of the only papers still in print, the newsprint recycled many times and the ink made from vegetable dye. It’s hand pressed and set, and looks like something an English gentleman in eighteenth-century London would read with his tea.
“Did you have a good sleep?” Michel asks when he sees me sitting up on the side of the bed.
I nod and pull back my long hair, braiding it loosely to the side. His eyes linger on me a bit too long and I know that he still wants me. The priest in him has not yet strangled the hot-blooded man. The need in his eyes still has the power to affect me, despite how I feel about him. He was my first real lover, the first man to make me feel desire and lust. It’s hard to see him and not think of him that way. It’s hard not to love him, despite everything that’s happened between us since we met.
He drags his eyes away from me and I glance away as well, taking in a deep breath to cleanse my mind of thoughts of us as lovers. It’s Julien who should hold that place in my mind. He’s been the true lover to me since we met—always telling me the truth when he can—when he’s not compelled to hide it. Now he’s in chains and we’re with Michel and so there will be no lovemaking with him…at least for a while.
I rise and go to Julien’s side, touching his shoulder. He turns to me and smiles, affection for me in his eyes. “Sleep well?” he asks, his voice soft. “I felt an incredible desire to join you, but it’s such a turnoff to have a priest in the room while you make love.”
I glance at Michel to see if he heard, but he seems absorbed in his paper and coffee.
“Julien…” I chide. “Get that off your mind. Nothing’s going to happen while we’re here, so don’t get your hopes up.”
“I’m always up for you,” he says and grins, his voice husky and suggestive.
I can’t help but smile back and punch him lightly on the shoulder. “Your cuffs and chains might get in the way.”
“There is no obstacle that can’t be overcome by someone determined to overcome it.”
“Who said that?” I ask, wondering if I’ve heard it before.
“Me,” he says and grins at me. He sneaks a peek in Michel’s direction and then leans down to quickly cover my mouth with his, slipping me a bit of tongue before he pulls away. He wags his eyebrows.
“You are so bad.”
“I’m so bad I’m good.”
We smile at each other, leaning in a bit closer, and I’m just about ready to sneak another kiss when there’s a knock at the door. I pull away when Michel puts down his paper.
“Come,” Michel says, and the door opens to admit one of the guards.
“Lord Soren wants you,” he says to Michel. “Alone.”
Michel frowns and puts his cup down on the coffee table. He rises and glances towards us as he passes.
“Probably getting instructions for this event Soren wants us at.”
Julien nods, his face suddenly serious.
Michel leaves with the guard, but he takes a look back at us before he closes the door, his brow furrowed. As soon as the door is closed, Julien wastes no time and raises his arms, threading them around me and pulling me against him.
“About damn time,” he says. “Kiss me. I’ve been deprived for too long.”
“Julien!” I struggle in his arms half-heartedly. “Michel could come back at any moment. I told you nothing will happen in front of him.”
“He’s not here now,” he says, his voice low. “Kiss me like you mean it.”
I stop struggling and look in his eyes. There’s a playful grin on his face, but his eyes say something else entirely, as does his body. He pulls me closer and bends down so that his lips almost touch mine. He hovers there, his breath warm on my lips, his eyes open. He’s waiting for me to kiss him like I mean it, this hunk of man that I want to lick and bite and suck and ride all at the same time.
“I don’t think we should,” I say and he moves lower, kissing my neck, licking the skin over his bite mark, which is barely visible now that I’ve ascended. It sends a jolt of lust through my body right to my core and I clench as if I had him inside of me. “Julien, no,” I whisper, but it doesn’t sound convincing.
His hands slide down my back to my buttocks and he grabs them, pulling me against his erection.
“Oh, God,” I moan, inhaling when he rubs his hard length against me. “Stop.”
“Michel will be gone for a while,” Julien says. “I need you. Let’s go into the bathroom.”
“We had sex only a while ago,” I say.
“Too long,” he replies. “This fucking as a mortal is better than I remember.”
Julien has my blouse open and is struggling to grab my breast with his cuffed and chained hands, his mouth practically devouring my neck, when Michel returns.