The Dominion Series Complete Collection

by Lund, S. E.

  “This is your church?” I ask, running my hands on the polished wood of a pew.

  “Yes,” Michel says and leads me past the altar to a small room off the rear. It is an office, with a huge desk and walls of bookshelves. It feels old, like a study that has been used for decades. A huge stained glass window arches from the floor to the high ceiling, featuring angels looking up to heaven.

  Michel points to a small sitting area with two couches facing each other, a coffee table between them. I take a seat and wait. He sits beside me.

  “So, tell me. How are you?”

  He looks so earnest, like he’s truly concerned for how I’ve been.

  “I’m fine,” I say and smile.

  “I was worried about you. I suppose you cooperated with Soren and the Twelve are now all resurrected?”

  I nod. “I know you disapprove of them, but Soren promised to stop the plague and eradicate vampirism. I knew if I helped him, you’d disapprove but I had to put humanity above my own desires.”

  “I understand. I would never blame you for resurrecting them. There comes a point where we all face difficult choices. Sometimes, we just have to make them even if they’re hard.”

  I sigh, glad he doesn’t hate me for doing it. “I’ve learned that I have to just accept and try not to understand everything.”

  “Yes,” he says and takes my face in his hands. His expression is so earnest. “Finally, yes. You finally understand.”

  I nod, smiling, tears filling my eyes for some reason. “When Soren came into my room and almost strangled me, I realized that he can’t read you. Or my mother or Dylan. But he can read me. That’s why you could never say anything.”

  “Yes,” he says and his expression is so sympathetic. “I could only tell you so much. I couldn’t tell you why. I knew that whatever I said, he’d have access to that information once you shared blood with him.”

  He strokes my hair and I wait for him to take his hands off me, but he keeps them on me, touching my hair, one hand on my arm.

  “So it was only after I shared blood with him that first time that he could read me?” I ask. “You mean when I resurrected Kael?” I frown. “I thought he could read my mind much, much earlier.

  “He might have been able to read you earlier, but only if he slipped something into your food or drink when he met you that first time. That’s the only way he had access to you much sooner.”

  “Could he have given me some of his blood much sooner? When I was a child?”

  Michel shrugs. “Perhaps. I tried to keep a close watch on you, but you were out of my control for a long time when you lived in Europe. Then, when you were with Franklin…”

  “So he could have slipped me some of his blood far earlier – maybe right from the start.”

  Michel finally takes his hand off my arm and sits back, watching me. “It’s possible that he’s known where you were since you were born.”

  I shudder at the thought. “I felt something strange that first day I saw Soren in the Sheriff’s office in Helena, as if he could read my mind from a distance. Maybe he was.”

  “Perhaps,” Michel says. “Regardless, you’re here now. I thought he might choose this path, but I wasn’t sure. I wouldn’t know until we all played out our parts in this game.”

  “It’s a game to you?” I say, surprised to hear him say such a thing as that. I always figured it was more of a life-and-death struggle.

  “It’s a game to Soren. When you’ve been around for thousands and thousands of years, it’s all a game. This is just a more interesting game to him because it’s more complicated than previous games, because of technology and the possibilities it provides.”

  “So he’s been doing this kind of thing for thousands of years?”

  Michel shrugs. “As far as I can tell. He’s been vying for power throughout his existence. It’s his downfall.”

  “He seems pretty powerful and not at all in any kind of downfall.”

  Michel leans back and runs his fingers through his hair as if he’s tired.

  “His original downfall, I mean. He’s always had such ambition.” He smiles at me but then his expression goes back to dark in an instant. “Anyway, I’m glad you’ve finally understood why I can only tell you so much.”

  I exhale. “I do,” I say and reach out to touch his arm briefly. “I’m sorry for how much trouble I was. You should have told me why you couldn’t tell me.”

  He shakes his head. “Couldn’t. Not proper timing. Even now, I have to watch what I say.”

  A man enters the room, dressed in vestments – is he another priest? “You wanted some tea?”

  Michel nods. The priest waves at someone outside the door and a servant enters with a tray bearing a teapot and cups. He places it on the coffee table across from us. When the servant and young priest leave, Michel pours me tea.

  “We have a bit of a battle going on over territory right now so I’m going to have to keep you here for at least a week,” he says softly. “His timing was impeccable. I’m sure Soren hopes that I’ll somehow succumb to your charms because I have to keep you here with me, which would give him an advantage, but I won’t succumb.” He hands me the cup, and his expression is dark. “I won’t be deterred from my path. Not even by you.”

  I take the cup and set it down on the coffee table. “Did he really think he could tempt you onto another course by sending me here?”

  “Yes.” Michel takes a sip of his own tea. “He knows this is the harder choice for me. I could accept his bait. It would be the easier solution. It would be the sweeter solution all around. But that would leave him in power, and I just can’t have him in power. He has to know that. No matter what the personal price for me. I can’t accept it.”

  “What personal price?” I ask, alarmed now that he’s taking a course that I won’t like. “Don’t tell me you die in this scenario of yours?”

  He forces a smile. “I can’t say whether I die or not. But in the scenario Soren wants, you and I are lovers again and we return to Boston and help him. I can’t have that, which is why I left. He wants me to know that if I cooperate, I’ll have you to myself again, but as much as that is tempting, I won’t take his bait.”

  “I told you we would never be together again, Michel,” I say, angered that Soren and Michel think I’m so easily manipulated. “I came here not to be your lover again but to bring you back so Soren will stop the plague and end vampirism. Us being lovers again is impossible. Nothing could happen that would change that.”

  He glances away and smiles sadly. “If only that were true, Eve, but you don’t see all the possible events and circumstances that could push us together. Soren does and so do I. Or at least, I saw them before I became mortal again. But you don’t have to worry about it,” he says and sits back, turning back to face me, the cup in his hand. “I’m strong enough to refuse.”

  There would be nothing that could tempt me into going back into Michel’s bed. Even though I know he lied to me to prevent Soren from knowing his plans, and about my mother and Dylan, it doesn’t mean I want to be his lover again. That died when my mother came back and even though I know the truth now, my feelings are dead.

  “So, you’re going to send me back to Boston alone and you’re sure Soren won’t kill Julien?”

  Michel sighs. “Yes, Eve,” he says softly. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do. This trip was all for nothing. Soren hoped that me seeing you again would make me fall again, but it won’t. I know he won’t kill Julien because Soren still needs me if his plans are to come to fruition and I would never help him if he killed Julien. He won’t kill you either because if he delays his final game plan again for another generation, things will have gone too far to recover. No, this is the time for Soren to make his final move. So I have to make mine as well.”

  “That sounds ominous,” I say and put down my cup of tea, no longer really happy with what Michel is proposing. I have a sense that Michel is going to sacrifice himself and that he
will finally get his way and die a mortal.

  Can I go along with that? Even if it means that the plague will stop and vampires will be history?

  We sit in silence for a moment and I feel a weight of dread come over me. I was so happy that I finally understood the reason for all the lies and deceit. That it would all be okay now that I knew why it had to be that way. Now, I feel like my heart will be ripped out of my chest no matter what happens. Michel’s going to die – that’s what I fear. I fear he’s taking the option that preserves my life but at the expense of his. I don’t want that.

  “I hope you aren’t planning on sacrificing yourself so that I live,” I say, turning to him, examining his expression for the truth. When he says nothing, I know he will. “If you think I’ll go along with it willingly, you’re wrong. There has to be a way that all of us survive.”

  He shakes his head. “No, Eve, not all of us will survive. That’s all I can say. Now, finish your tea. I have a room made up for you where you’ll stay until it’s time for you to go back. We’re going to repair your vehicle so you can return to Boston once this little disruption is over. Your place is there, not here.”

  I sigh heavily. I promised myself that I would just trust my gut and go with what Michel chose because he knew best what course to take. Now, I’m not so sure. I have to remember his death wish. He wants to die a mortal. He wants to save the world and then exit stage left.

  Is there anything I could do to stop him from succeeding?

  I finish my tea while Michel goes to the door and speaks with his guards. So, all of this was for nothing. Soren didn’t get what he wanted. Michel may get what he wants, which is not what I want.

  I have to admit to myself that I don’t want Michel to die. I don’t want us to be lovers because that would be too complicated, trying to manage both him and Julien, their jealousies.

  What would it be like to live with them both, but in peace?

  Soren pops into my head, even at this great distance and I know his powers are strong.

  Keep out of my mind, I think to myself but of course, it’s useless. I’ve never found anything to keep Soren out of my mind that I know of.

  And a damn good thing because if you did, I’d have to kill you. You’d be of no use to me if you could block me, so don’t even try to find a way, Eve.

  I watch Michel speaking with his guard, his head bent as they make arrangements.

  All you have to do is go to him, and he’ll be yours. One kiss, Eve, and you can prevent him from dying in this scenario.

  I consider. If I did go to him and kiss him, would he really succumb? Am I that much of a temptation?

  Come on now, Eve… You and Danielle are the only women who have ever tempted Michel. The only two he has been weak for. The others he was with meant nothing to him but temporary solace. Go to him. You can have it all… All of it.

  In the end, I can’t do it.

  I think you’re wrong. He won’t respond to me. He’s made his choice.

  Soren doesn’t respond and I hope he’s leaving me alone for a while.

  “Come, Eve,” Michel says. “I want to take you to your room before it gets too dark.”

  “Is Jan okay?” I ask as I stand up and go to the door.

  “Of course,” Michel says and frowns. “I’ll send one of my guards to take you to the apartment. You’ll be safe.”

  “How do I know Julien won’t be dead when I get back to Soren’s compound?”

  “Because Soren knows that will mean he loses.”

  We walk back out to the street and Michel remains standing at the top of the stairs, his hands behind his back.

  “Go,” he says and waves towards the street. “I’m staying here tonight. Consider my apartment your home until it’s safe to leave.”

  I stop and turn to look at him. “Will I see you again before I leave?” I ask, my heart suddenly squeezing.

  “We’ll have meals together. You can always come to mass, but I’m busy trying to organize a rebellion,” he says but it sounds non-committal and not like he really believes it. “And just right now, I have a small insurrection on my hands I have to quell.”

  “Michel, even though we won’t be lovers again, I still love you,” I say, my voice breaking. “Don’t do anything reckless. Don’t die.”

  He smiles, and I can see his demeanor change. He softens, as if he’s been holding himself so tightly under control this whole time.

  “I don’t plan on dying. I love you as well. Always.”

  I turn away, and my vision is blurry.

  Chapter 119

  The guard tells me his name is Brent and that he’s originally from Philadelphia. He’s been there since the founding of the city and so is one of the older ascended vampires in existence.

  I feel comforted that at least he’s probably able to protect me in case any humans come after us, looking for whatever they can steal.

  We walk through the empty streets, back to a vehicle and get in, driving down the dark streets to a tall brownstone. On either end of the street, city buses block access and are pulled apart when we arrive to admit us. Armed guards line the street.

  “Is this Michel’s headquarters?”

  “This is his residence. It’s just a block away from the cathedral. He likes to be close by.”

  He leads me into the building and we pass a sentry who looks me up and down. He checks me for weapons and finding none, motions to me.

  “She can take the guest bedroom on the left.”

  The guard walks me to the bedroom and unlocks the door. “If you’re hungry, I’ll have the cook bring you a tray.”

  I nod, and go inside. It’s small but well-appointed and there’s an en-suite bathroom. I sit on the side of the bed and look out the window. Sheer curtains filter the light, giving the room a bit of a gloomy atmosphere. There’s a lantern on a table and a fire in the hearth.

  I sigh and lie down, staring up at the ceiling while I wait for my tray of dinner to arrive.

  When a knock comes at the door, I sit up and rub my eyes. I fell asleep, and am surprised to hear my stomach rumbling.

  “Here you are,” the young man in a cassock says. “Cook prepared a sandwich and some fruit and tea. That’s all we had. Father Michel is pretty frugal so there’s nothing fancy.”

  He smiles at me and he looks so young.

  I sit beside the fire and eat the sandwich – roast beef with lettuce and real butter. The tea is hot and there’s even some honey, which pleases me. There’s even a small carafe of preserved blood, which I drink down to quench my thirst. The meal is delicious and I glance around the room, wondering what I’ll do every day until it’s safe for me to return to Boston.

  There’s a bookshelf against one wall and so I spend the rest of the evening examining volumes of literature – most of it old, dusty and from names of authors I’ve never heard of before. Some of it is in French. I wonder if this isn’t one of Michel’s apartments from his years of life before I met him. I half expect Michel to come by before bed to say something, but he doesn’t. Perhaps he thought better of being alone with me. If so, his faith in his own commitment to celibacy may not be as strong as he thought.

  I go to sleep when the old grandfather clock in the entry strikes midnight, after washing my face in a basin of cold water and giving my teeth a quick brush with the personal supplies I brought with me.

  Then I crawl into bed and sleep almost immediately.

  * * *

  The next day I wake early, and for a moment, I forget where I am. The room is unfamiliar and it takes me a while to reorient myself. Then I remember I’m in Michel’s residence in New York City. I check the clock. It’s early and still dark out. I rise and get dressed and then sit alone in the room, after stoking the fire to build it back up again.

  It’s then I remember that Michel said I could come to mass if I wanted. Of course, I don’t really want to go to mass, but I do want to see what Michel is doing here in Manhattan. He spoke about organizi
ng a rebellion, and so I want to find out what I can.

  I go to the door and speak to the guard posted outside my room.

  “Michel said I could go to mass if I wanted.”

  The guard takes me down to the vehicle.

  “He’s at St. Patrick’s today,” the driver says and takes me through the streets to a gothic cathedral all the way north in Midtown Manhattan. As we walk to the entry, we join a stream of people who are also going to early mass. They look tired, their eyes weary, but they seem intent on going despite the early hour. We enter St. Patrick’s and I’m awed by the beauty of the old building. Inside it’s warm and hushed, the only sounds are of the people taking their places and whispering their prayers.

  I sit alone in the back, watching Michel and his assistants go through the mass. Once, I would have taken part, but not now. Now, I’m only here to watch Michel and try to understand why he is so devout. Why is he doing this? He must think that this is the only way to preserve his church, the church of his faith, against Soren’s usurpation. I know that Soren wants to harness the power of the Catholic Church’s millions of believers. That must really upset Michel, so much that he’s willing to die to preserve the church.

  It feels strange to watch him deliver the mass, dressed in his vestments, his altar boys at this side. I only feel sadness. There is no solace for me in watching.

  Then, he gives his homily and I listen to him speak about false gods and I know he’s talking about Soren. Michel talks about power and how it corrupts those who have it, using it for their own ends, and not the ends that would be best for humanity. He’s trying to set Soren up as a false god so that when Soren does his feats of wonder, not all believers will be converted.

  When mass is finished, I leave without interacting with anyone, for my heart is heavy at what I’ve seen. I’ve lost Michel and even though I love Julien and chose Julien, I still feel a deep grief that Michel is lost to us both.

  My guard next takes me to a small park near the memorial in Battery Park, and a crowd has gathered, waiting for Michel, I assume. Are these the non-religious, the non-church goers? When Michel arrives, they whisper amongst themselves and I examine those gathered more closely. They’re workers, and rough men with scars and work boots, looking like they’ve had hard lives. Michel gives them a simplified version of his sermon at the Cathedral. Instead of God, and false gods, he talks about despots and tyrants, who use men and throw them away when they’re finished.