The Dominion Series Complete Collection

by Lund, S. E.

  He's the River Man.

  Soren puts down his paper and unfastens his belt. He picks up his snifter and then retrieves the bottle of cognac, pouring more for himself and then coming to my side, standing directly in front of me holding the bottle up. "More?" he asks.

  I look away, the realization that he's the killer filling me with dread.

  "I said, did you want some more?"

  I nod. The liquid sloshes in the crystal glass and I drink it down quickly. He then fills it once again and sits back down.

  I drink that down, too, and lean back, the warmth of the liquor comforting, heat burning down my throat and in my belly. We sit in silence for the rest of the trip, Soren reading his documents. My mind is unable to be blank, and I wonder if he'll let me go. Will he let me leave the plane, return to Michel or will I be a captive?

  I remember the dark wing-like shadows that spread out from his shoulders from the previous day. I've always accepted that there are such things as vampires. Am I now going to have to accept that there are also fallen angels?

  The liquor makes me drowsy and I must have fallen asleep for when I blink awake, we're descending towards a small airport near Boston.

  "See," Soren says. "That wasn't so bad. I let you sleep. I figured you needed it after everything that's happened."

  Once the plane taxis off the runway and over to the terminal, we disembark into the dusk, the sun having just set.

  I follow him, watching the way he exudes confidence, as if he owns the world. We reach the entrance to the hangar and there's a limo waiting for me, the driver at the open door.

  Soren extends his hand to me and I'm glad that I've put my gloves back on before we left the plane. Yet, I hesitate. I feel like a fraud to be shaking his hand, as if we're just a couple of professionals who shared a flight and are not enemies.

  "I'm sorry," I say quietly, turning my face away from him. "I can't pretend to be your friend, considering who I am and what you are and that you have both Michel and Julien in your control."

  "Oh, Eve," he chuckles, putting his briefcase down and grabbing me in a hug. I feel stiff, startled to be pulled into his embrace. "You think you know what I am," he whispers in my ear, his cheek pressed against mine. He squeezes me tightly, one hand going to the small of my back, pulling me against his body. "But you're wrong. You don't even know what you are."

  He slips a hand into my jacket pocket and I feel something hard and heavy slide to the bottom of it, clinking against my keys and change. Then he kisses my cheeks, one after the other, his tongue touching my skin the way Michel kissed me, and he's off, his briefcase in hand.

  I watch the swell of people close around him as he makes his way into the terminal. He's tall enough that I can watch him, his pale head bobbing above the crowd. He makes such a striking figure with his white skin such a contrast against his dark clothing. I see him bend down to someone and hear his deep mellow voice laugh out loud, jovial, full of exuberance.

  I slide my hand in my pocket and pull out a piece of fired red clay, cuneiform lettering stamped into its surface and a figure carved on it in relief. It appears to be a piece of broken pottery. Egyptian? Or even earlier – Mesopotamia? The figure depicts a half-lion half-bird. I rub my thumb over the rough edge of the semi-circular piece of clay. Soren has given me a clue of some kind - he wants me to know who or what he is. He claims to know my true identity.

  My mind turns these facts around as I step into the limousine for my drive back to Boston and Michel, wondering whether I'll see him tonight. When I'm almost home, I get a text from Ed, telling me I can take the rest of the night off and just go home.

  Thank God. I feel like crap after that hellish flight, the cognac and the stress of being with Soren.

  All I really want to do is go home and have a hot bath, then go to bed. Soren, the case and this whole business with Michel and Julien will be there in the morning.

  Chapter 14

  "The heart wants what it wants."

  Emily Dickenson

  Once back at my apartment, I run a hot bath, needing to soak the chill out of me. Rain pelts at my window and I wonder when the storm will break and we'll finally get nice weather. I fill the tub with bubbles and a drop of my perfume that Michel liked so much, then lie back in the tub and relax, trying to blank my mind of everything and just let the heat soothe me. Of course, I can't blank my mind. I'm on edge from the trip with Soren, wanting to speak to Michel about it, find out if he was compelled and what he thinks about the meeting, but I'm exhausted and a bit lethargic from the cognac on the plane.

  Of course, I can't keep my mind blank and it moves back to Michel. I no longer know what I feel about anything. I thought I'd be doing my mother's life work, finding a magic bullet to kill all vampires so I could get my revenge and eradicate their plague from the face of the earth. Instead, I'm falling in love with one and all I want is to have him, to be his, to be whatever I can be to him and it feels like a betrayal of my mother and myself.

  Michel and Julien are not what I thought about when I imagined vampires. I saw them as monsters, evil, bloodsuckers. Instead, I see them now as humans who met a tragic end that didn't kill them. Now, they must face an eternity addicted to blood and trapped by night, their senses heightened, acutely aware of everything – sound, sight, scent, touch, their emotions magnified. They have forever to regret their mistakes, superior to humans in strength and senses, and yet loving us – loving that which they inevitably either kill or watch die from old age.

  I think of him, so beautiful and so soulful despite what he thinks of himself, how he mourns his lost innocence and how he mourns the Church he lost that day when he thought his beloved brother was dead.

  I want him so much…

  Lying in the warm water, I can't help but let my mind wander back to Michel. He's just so intense and I want him so much, my body warming to the thought of him lying on top of me on my bed the other night, his kiss so passionate…

  I lie in the warm soapy water and feel sad that we won't become lovers unless I pass some test. I imagine him holding my hands like he did on the bed, his lips on mine, his tongue touching mine…

  A knock at the door brings me right back to reality and I sit up.

  Who the hell is bothering me at this time of night?

  "Eve," Michel calls out. "It's me, Michel."

  Oh, damn…

  I don't say anything, my mind flustered that he's caught me imagining being his lover.

  "Eve, I can tell you're in there. I can smell you…"

  Oh, hell... That admission just does something to me.

  "I can't come to the door," I say, my voice quivery from being so close to an orgasm. "I'm in the bath."

  I hear the key in the lock. Oh, damn. I forgot he has the duplicate. My heart flutters for he's coming in and the bathroom door is open. I don't have time to get out and put a bathrobe on, so I sink down into the bath and try to hide under the bubbles. I hear his boots on the hardwood, and then the sound of them dropping on the floor as he removes them. Then he's in the bathroom standing in the doorway, looking at me like a lion looks at a baby gazelle and I can barely breathe. Some part of my still-functioning brain knows I'm in trouble even if I want this.

  His coat is open, the shoulders soaked from the deluge, and he's wearing a black sweater underneath, his gold cross dangling around his neck. His wet hair hangs in his eyes, his black lashes clumped together from the rain, his blue eyes riveted on me.

  He looks – desperate.

  "You're back," he says, his voice soft. "I was so worried about you…" He comes to the bathtub and stands over me, staring down, and there I am, naked, my hair soaked, my cheeks red, my body only somewhat covered by the last remaining bubbles and only moments away from a self-imposed orgasm. Then he reaches down, stroking my cheek with the backs of his fingers, his eyes closed. I feel the connection, the walls between us falling away, and all I can think is that he almost caught me. My body is so ready, my heart racing, my ch
eeks hot. Then he senses my masturbatory fantasy about him just moments earlier before he knocked and how close I am.

  "Oh, God, Eve," he says and reaches down, grabbing me under my arm, his other arm under my legs, pulling me out of the tub, splashing water all over everywhere as he lifts me and carries me naked and dripping to my bedroom, his mouth already on mine before I can even gasp in shock.

  He lays me on the bed and lies on top of me, his coat still on, his mouth never leaving mine, one hand holding mine above my head and he runs his other hand down my naked wet skin, over my shoulder and down to my breast and then lower between my thighs, his fingers finding my clit as he kisses me, his tongue insistent, his breathing so fast. I feel his lust now, feel his flesh so hard, the ache of desire in him as he kisses and touches me. Then he breaks the kiss and moves his mouth down over my chin, down my neck where he pauses at my throat. For a few seconds, I hold my breath and wonder if he's going to bite me and I don't care, almost wanting him to and there's nothing I could do to stop him, he's so strong and has me confined.

  He makes a noise deep in his throat like agony and pulls away, breathing heavily and when I look at him, his face has changed to the hunter, his teeth longer, his pupils huge now, and a mix of lust and fear floods through me.

  He doesn't speak, releasing my hands above my head. He moves lower, sucking each nipple as he squeezes my breasts. His sharp teeth slide over my nipple, but he doesn't break my skin and jolts of pleasure go right from my nipples to my clit and deep inside of me. I don't know how much more I can take I'm so ready. He moves even lower, spreading my thighs, his mouth covering my sex, his tongue finding my clit and stroking, fast and firm, and I cry out loud it feels so good, my hips grinding against his mouth.

  He slips fingers inside of me, and makes that throat sound, and I feel the sweetness building deep inside as his fingers and tongue stroke me. Just as I think I'm over the edge, he pulls his fingers out and moves up, kissing my neck as he's fumbling with his pants, unbuttoning his fly.

  When he's finally free, he shoves himself inside of me, fully. He's so thick, he fills me up and the pressure is so intense. He thrusts inside me, grabbing my hands over my head and he's kissing my throat, his other hand on my breast, squeezing my nipple and I feel his lust and mine combined so that the waves of pleasure build until I'm gasping, my body arching, my muscles clenching around him.

  I'm coming as he thrusts harder and faster and I feel his climax on top of mine, his cheek pressed against mine, grunting with each thrust. It's as if he's holding me there, right at the top not letting me fall. I feel his body spasm as if it's my own, and it is my own, the pleasure such agony and it goes on and on and I'm completely drowning in it…

  * * *

  We lie there, recovering, our breathing slowly returning to normal. He moves off me, slipping out of my body and then he's lying on his side looking at me. He touches the skin on my shoulders and hips where his coat has rubbed against my skin, leaving fabric burn, his mouth soft on the raw spots. He tongues the wound on my shoulder, which weeps just a bit of blood and his tongue on my skin feels so good, so tender, so intimate. But even that small amount of blood brings out the hunter in him again and his eyes become bloodshot, his pupils now huge.

  I'm a little in fear of him right now. He senses it and stops licking my wound, exhaling slowly and rests his head on my breast, his breath on my nipple.

  "Don't worry," he whispers. "I won't bite you."

  I don't know if I'm worried or in hope, and the thought makes me feel like such a traitor. I turn my face away, but in truth, somewhere dark and deep, I want it. I just don't want to admit it. I lie there, surprised at how I'm both scared and attracted to him in hunter mode.

  "That was so fast," I say, still a bit in shock at how quickly it all happened.

  "You were so ready," he says, and now Michel is back, and the hunter recedes. He's smiling that lopsided grin of his. "I could have prolonged things. I usually prefer it long and slow, and I would have preferred to confine you properly, but you were just so close…"

  My cheeks burn at the memory and how he knows I was masturbating just before he knocked on the door.

  "Don't you dare be embarrassed," he says, leaning over me again, staring into my eyes. "Do you have any idea how erotic that was? To find you like that, naked, wet, ready? All my plans for self-control totally laid to waste…"

  I smile at him, and touch his face, push his hair back behind his ear and out of his eyes. God, he's so beautiful…

  "What plans? Tell me, oh Genghis Kahn, what your plans for total dominion over me were?"

  He cracks a grin, but then becomes serious.

  "Oh, Eve…" he says and rolls onto his back, rubbing his eyes. "I fucked up."

  "You regret this?" I say, a feeling of numbness spreading through me. What – is he going to take it back now? "It's not a really good thing to tell a woman you just had sex with that you regret it."

  He sits up and then removes his coat and lies on his side, leaning over me, resting on one elbow, his gaze moving over my naked body and I remember what Julien wrote about vampire stamina.

  "Regret isn't the word. I'm angry with myself for being so weak. I shouldn't have come in, but I had to see you. After Helena, after meeting with Soren I felt so," he shakes his head. "Afraid for you when Soren saw you, knew you were back in play. I didn't intend to have sex with you, and certainly not like this, but you were so …" he says, and hesitates as if searching for words. "You were so there how could I not? It was like the laws of the universe would be violated if I hadn't."

  "Spacetime itself would be disrupted?" I say and smile, but I'm still not sure where this is going and whether I'm going to be sad or happy when he finally explains. "What's so terrible about what happened?"

  He rolls over on his stomach and rests on his elbows, his fingers laced together, his gold crucifix dangling. He looks over at me, and I'm just lying there, naked as the day I was born, but I don't move to cover up. He's seen right into my mind and heart. What's my nakedness in comparison?

  "It shouldn't have happened until I knew if we can work. If we can form that bond. If I can claim you completely as my own. Vampires are used to controlling humans using our powers of compulsion. Adepts and their vampire partners included. You and I," he says and reaches out to touch me. "We can kill each other. We can protect each other. That's why I'm so torn. I feel guilt about it because this is going to be very dangerous, and I hate that I'm putting you in danger, but from the moment I saw you in the office that first night, I wanted you as my Adept. My," he says, "protector."

  I frown. "Your protector?"

  "You can kill vampires. Who better to protect me?"

  I lie there for a moment, absorbing this revelation.

  "I thought we'd work cases together."

  "We will. But this is a military operation, Eve, not a police action. We're preparing to fight a war. I need you to be my protector because you can kill vampires and that's who I'll be fighting."

  "Tell me about the war."

  He shakes his head. "I can't tell you more, Eve, or risk putting you in more danger. Please trust me on this."

  I inhale. Trust.

  "So you need to know if we can form this bond of trust? How will you know?"

  "Only when you're able to be completely obedient to me. To completely trust me with your life. Not ask questions, not doubt my commands. Then, I can trust you with my life."

  Trust me with his life? That does something to me, making me swell with emotion.

  "Only then would sex between us not complicate the bond. Sex too early and it's harder to establish. If we were just a normal couple, then it would be different, but we’re not."

  This is life and death," he says. "In a military relationship, as your superior, I make the decisions about what we do and when and how. As my subordinate, you're responsible for carrying out my commands exactly as I specify. It's essential when we're on missions for you to obey me without hesi
tation, without thought. I have to know you'll do what I command at all times. There can be only one leader."

  "Why not partners?"

  "Because partners can argue over decisions, each one pushing their own agenda, and in that space of time, people will die. I've seen it happen."

  "So you want me to be your servant?"

  "Names are just words," he says. "Whether I call you my lieutenant or my servant, you are my subordinate and can't be anything else. The power I have over everything is so much greater."

  "I don't know what I want. I don't like the idea of being anyone's servant."

  He rolls over closer to me, his finger touching my bottom lip. "If we form this bond," Michel says, running his finger along my arm. "We would be more than married, Eve. This bond is so deep, it transcends what an ordinary mortal feels with another. We would truly know each other at the deepest level."

  I have to close my eyes for a moment and breathe deeply. To have someone know you that deeply. He leans over and kisses my shoulder.

  When I open my eyes, he's serious again.

  "Eve, you and I? This relationship? We do it to stay alive." He looks at me with those so-intense eyes. "You turn over your will to me. The mission is first, and our own will exists only to complete the mission. I am the leader and you're my right hand."

  "So having sex first does what?"

  "It complicates things. Lovers often put their own needs and that of their lover first over the mission. There can't be that kind of dynamic or one of us – or both – could die."

  I stare at the ceiling. "Why not two people who are committed to the mission? Working together?"

  "Because of how power works," he says. "It's a zero sum game. It's based on making decisions and being able to react to conditions on the ground. Only one person can do that." He leans over me, his eyes so intense. "This is war. A war for dominion. Who will win? Humans or vampires? If humans are to win, those of us who fight for you must be in perfect unison. We must be committed completely to winning. You think vampires are very strong, and we are, but we're also vulnerable in daylight and rely on humans to protect us."