by Lund, S. E.
“Let her up,” Soren says, and the guard drags me up to my feet and shoves me in front of Soren. He stands before me, his hands on his hips, a look of triumph on his face. “So, Eve,” he says, an edge of anger in his voice despite his smile, “you thought you could escape?”
“I wasn’t going to help you restore the other eleven. Not after Kael’s killing spree in the tent. Julien felt the same way, as did Michel.”
He waves his hand, dismissing me. “That was nothing. Just a snack.”
I make a face of disgust and glance away, but not before I see him smile.
“Oh, and speaking of Michel, he’s been taken care of already.”
Horror washes over me and I remember the kill collar. It’s then I catch sight of something in the distance—the strange shape is barely visible through the dense brush, but it looks familiar…
I start towards it, drawn to it, a large wooden circle about ten feet high. Inside is an upside-down cross.
“Michel!” I cry out and run towards it, but a guard stops me. We wrestle, but I can’t seem to get away and he soon has me in a headlock.
“Let her go to her precious Michel,” Soren says and waves his hand. “She has some hard choices to make.”
I run to the cross and find Michel nailed to it, his hands and feet bloody. It’s as I saw in my dream. Everything is the same except that Michel is still alive, although wounded and in pain. He’s breathing fast, his face pale in the moonlight.
“Michel,” I whisper and kneel down beside him, cradling his head in my hands. “Oh, Michel. I’m so sorry.”
He says nothing, his teeth gritted, his eyes squeezed shut. I check his neck—the kill collar has been deployed. There’s a small wound in his neck and blood is oozing out of it. He’ll die if I don’t apply pressure. I reach into my pocket and remove a tissue. It’s not much, but I have nothing else. I push the blade back into its recess and press the cloth against his neck, between the collar and his wound, trying to stem the flow.
I panic, glancing around in search of Julien and Chris, hoping they’ve escaped and are even now rounding up some of Chris’s men for a counterattack. I’m desperate to help Michel, but at the same time, I know I can’t do anything with five of Soren’s guards and Soren himself just a few feet away.
“Like I said, you have a choice, Eve,” Soren says. “You either help me resurrect my brethren, or your beloved twins die.”
“Don’t do it, Eve,” Michel whispers beside me through gritted teeth. “Don’t help him.”
I turn and look in Michel’s eyes, which are half-open now. “You’ll die if I don’t.”
He shakes his head slightly, breathing rapidly. “Don’t. Not for me.”
I hear gunfire in the distance, several different kinds, and know there is a firefight. One Julien probably won’t come out of alive.
“Michel, I don’t want you to die.”
I remain kneeling by Michel, one hand pressing on the wound, the other pulling the kill collar away from Michel’s neck. If I agree to help Soren temporarily, he won’t kill Michel, and maybe Chris and Julien will be able to counterattack and rescue us. I’ll do anything to keep Michel alive. I’ll agree to anything.
Several guards join us where we stand around the cross, and I see that they are dragging Julien, their arms supporting his limp body. They throw him down to the ground in front of Soren.
“Ahh, there he is!” Soren cries. “The man of the hour. Valiant Julien, leading me so very conveniently to a rebel cell planning to fight me. What a fool.”
I leave Michel briefly to crouch down and check Julien, whose eyes open and close as if he’s close to losing consciousness. He has bullet wounds, one in his left shoulder and one in his lower abdomen. Both are bleeding profusely.
“Julien!” I cry, taking his face in my hands. “Julien! Stay with me!”
His eyes roll in his head and so I slap his face and he blinks and meets my gaze.
“Stay with me,” I repeat. “Don’t close your eyes.”
I know I have to stop the bleeding, and rip off my coat, removing my blouse so that I’m wearing only a thin t-shirt. I tear the blouse up into strips and use it to pack the wound in his side, pressing to stop the flow, but it’s a large exit wound, the flesh ripped away, and I know it’s likely fatal.
The blood is fresh and hot and steams in the chill air.
“Do something!” I scream at Soren, who stands watching, his arms crossed.
“I said you’d have a choice to make,” he reminds me. “If you agree to help me resurrect the rest of the Twelve, I’ll let you save one of them. One. Who will it be? Julien, your brave knight in shining armor, or Michel, your soulful priest who can’t keep his vows?”
I turn to Soren, my hatred of him so great I could explode, my eyes blurry from tears.
“Don’t make me choose.”
“But you have to. You have to choose which one will live. I need one of them for the ceremony. Michel would be my first choice, as he’s my high priest, after all. But if you want Julien…well, you’d better decide quick because he looks as if he’s not long for this world.”
“If I save one, won’t the other be saved as well?” I say, remembering how they were both made mortal at the same time.
Soren shakes his head, smiling at me. “No, sorry. Good try, but that was the serum. You know, spooky action at a distance? You’re going to have to turn one of them to save them. It will be your first, no?”
“Not me,” Michel says, and I briefly make eye contact with him from where I kneel beside Julien. “Please, Eve. Let me die as a mortal.”
I wipe my eyes, knowing that it has been his fervent desire all his existence as a vampire. “You promised we’d all be together again,” I say to him, unable to stop my tears. I know I can’t turn Michel. Not if it means Julien will die.
“I’m sorry,” Michel whispers, his face contorted in pain once more.
I kneel down to Julien, whose eyes are still open, but whose pulse is so fast, I know he’s close to death. “What should I do?” I whisper to him.
He swallows and struggles to speak, his body shaking and cold. “I don’t want to die.”
I take one last look at Michel, whose eyes are closed against his pain, then bite my own wrist and place it over Julien’s mouth. I feel his cold lips against my wound, feel his feeble attempt at sucking, and relief floods through me that at least a few drops of my blood and its potent virus have made it past his lips.
He’ll die, but will wake up in a few hours, vampire once more.
“Take him down,” Soren says, motioning to the guard, who goes to Michel and lays the cross flat.
Michel is still conscious and groans in pain. The guard wrenches the huge spikes out of Michel’s hands and feet. Michel trembles but is silent. Soren bends down and unlatches the kill collar with a click and then, as we watch, he lays a hand on Michel’s neck, covering the wound with his hand, healing Michel with his powers.
He meets my eyes and smiles, his expression smug. “You didn’t really think I’d let Michel die for good, did you?” He turns back to Michel, whose face is a grimace of grief. “Fool wants to die now as a mortal, but I want him to suffer a little longer. Besides, I need him. I knew you’d save Julien. So did Michel, although I’m sure it still broke his heart.”
Michel doesn’t look at me. His eyes close and he gives in to his fate.
I hate Soren. I hate him with all my might. I hate that he forced me to choose, but at the same time, I’m so glad that he saved Michel. That will always be between us. Michel will always know that I chose to save Julien over him. Yes, he asked to be allowed to die, but the fact I went along with it says everything. I met Michel first, and I loved Michel first, but I would have let him die.
Deep down, I was afraid that if I saved Michel, Soren would let Julien die. For whatever reason, Soren seems not to care about Julien except as a means to make Michel jealous.
Is it really because Julien is compellable? Does
that make us different, less malleable, and therefore more equal?
The guards pick up a dying Julien and haul him through the trees back to the base. I follow in Soren’s wake with Michel beside me, surrounded by several of Soren’s guards, their weapons drawn. As we approach the road bordering the base, I pass by several fallen rebels, including Chris, who lies lifeless, staring up at the sky, a stake through his heart.
“Burn them all,” Soren says, pointing to a pile of bodies in the center of the yard. I watch as they put Julien in the back of a van, and try to get in beside them, but a guard stops me.
“In there,” he says and points to Soren and Michel. One guard closes his door while another holds the door to the other side open. The guard motions to me, and I’m forced to get inside with Soren. I sit on the seat beside Michel, trying to contain myself. Soren’s lieutenant sits beside him, and the two bend down together to discuss their losses.
I half-listen as we drive off, lost in my grief, glancing out the window to try to calm myself. I can’t face Michel, knowing he will be upset that I chose Julien, but he asked to be allowed to die. What was I supposed to do?
“It’s all right, Eve,” Michel says, his voice soft. “You made the right choice. Soren would have let Julien die if you’d chosen me; this way, Julien is still alive.” Michel reaches out and takes my hand in his, rubbing my palm with his thumb.
Soren looks at us, a gleam in his eye. “Aww, are the two of you going to kiss and make up? You know I love to see you two together.”
I make a face at him and glance away, barely able to tolerate being in his company.
“Oh, stop it, Eve,” he says. “You know you can’t resist him. Face it. No matter what, you still want him. Julien alone isn’t enough, now that you’ve had them both.”
Michel squeezes my hand as if to warn me to let it go. I try, but of course, Soren is very pleased with himself and can’t stop.
“You can’t hope to keep up with me, Eve, so you’re a fool to try.” He watches me for a moment, a smile on his face. “I’m so glad you two ran off when you did. I needed to find and eliminate Julien’s old friends. He was very helpful in leading us right to them. Nothing happens,” he says and leans forward, one elbow on his knee. “Nothing happens without my knowledge and without my leave. Give in, Eve. Your life will be a whole lot easier once you do.”
“I’ll never give in,” I say. “Not in spirit.”
“In body will be good enough,” he says and sits back, watching out the window as if I’m no longer there.
We drive along in silence, but I’m still a mess, wiping my eyes and biting my lip to stop from crying.
I glance at the vehicle behind us, but can see nothing. I wonder how Julien is…how he’ll take being a vampire again.
“He’ll be fine,” Michel says, his voice soothing.
“Unlike Michel, Julien wants to survive,” Soren says after examining a clipboard. “I could have let Michel die, and it would have been fair punishment for his murder of my beautiful Marguerite, but that would be too good for him. He’d be out of his misery. You see how easy it is to manipulate you? Use your hearts against your interests?”
“At least we have hearts,” I spit out.
Soren laughs and shakes his head. “Oh, Eve… So callous. Of course I have a heart. If I didn’t, none of this would matter. It’s precisely because I have a heart that I care.”
“You only care about getting power,” I say, glaring at him. “So you and the Twelve can reign as some kind of pantheon. Humans got rid of the Greek and Roman pantheons. We won’t want yours either.”
“They were weak,” he answers simply.” We aren’t. We have modern power. We’ll step in and take control. It’s what mortals want, deep down inside.”
“They won’t bow down,” I warn. I hope.
He smiles. “We’ll see about that. When push comes to shove, most mortals are still scared little hominids hiding in the cave, fearful of the lions and tigers and bears circling around just outside.”
I watch out the other window, disgusted with his attitude. Whatever he is, his ego is enormous. When I glance at him again, I find him grinning. He’s won. He has my compliance. He has both twins. He used Julien to find a cell working against him.
I refuse to look at him for another second, uncertain how I’m going to survive this, but Julien is alive and will soon be a vampire again. Even if my relationship with Michel is over for good, there’s still Julien and there’s still hope.
I turn my face to the window and watch the passing scenery during the rest of the trip back to Soren’s mansion. Despite his win in this current battle, I’m more determined than ever that I will never let him resurrect the rest of the Twelve. Even if it means all our deaths.
Chapter 108
“We are born of love; love is our mother.”
Rumi
The trip back to Soren’s compound takes barely an hour.
“Will you stop the plague before it circles the globe?” I ask when the vehicle stops at the gate.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head, Eve,” he says in a patronizing voice. “I won’t let too many mortals die. Just enough, no more and no less.”
“How can you say just enough? If you were a real god, you’d prevent deaths.”
“Michel’s real god lets millions of humans die each year. Don’t talk to me about real gods.”
I bite my lip, knowing my words will have no effect except to upset me even more. I try to blank my mind instead of thinking, letting things happen until I can be away from him, and able to think clearly without his constant snide and gloating comments.
Soren turns to me, his eyes appraising me. “I’m not responsible for the deaths, Eve. Those deaths resulting from the plague aren’t on my head.”
“You let them die. You could have stopped Blackstone and then none of this would have happened.”
“I tried to stop him,” Soren says, looking out the window. “I failed. This is Plan B.”
“You mean to tell me you were going to stop Blackstone before he let the plague go?”
Soren turns to me, his eyes opening slowly. “I was going to stop things a lot sooner than they did. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?”
“It’s easy to say that, but where’s the proof? You’re benefitting from the plague too. You let it happen.”
We drive up to the entrance and a guard opens the door for Soren. He steps out and I follow, but I go around to the back of the vehicle where they are removing Julien’s body. His body is limp, his arms and legs sprawled in their grip, his head lolled back. He’s dead. I touch his face. It’s cold.
“Don’t worry about Julien,” Soren says from the steps, Michel standing beside him. “He’ll wake up with a nasty headache in a few hours and a very powerful thirst. Come. We have business to attend to.”
They start up the stairs to the door, but Soren stops at the entrance, waiting for me. I refuse to follow, wanting to stay with Julien.
He looks at me directly. “Blackstone wants the plague to wipe out almost all fossil fuels, but I won’t let it. The more you delay this, the longer the plague has to spread.”
I sigh. He’s right and I relent. Julien will be fine. I watch as the two guards haul him inside past Soren and then follow up the steps.
Soren leads us in and I wonder why he’s suddenly being so courteous. “The Twelve and I will save the world from catastrophe, Eve, so you can stop feeling so bad about your part in this. We have the off-switch. It’s just a matter of deploying it at the most opportune time. I don’t have enough power yet, but once I do, I’ll make a big show of saving the world, stopping the plague in its tracks. It will be a miracle.”
“Hardly a miracle,” I say, clenching my fists. “Just biochemical engineering.”
Soren clucks his tongue at me. “Oh, Eve. Such a Debbie Downer. Don’t you think it’s a miracle that I was able to get the antidote? Your brother helped me, and considering his ties to Blackstone, that was
a miracle.”
“Dylan helped you?”
Soren raises his eyebrows. “I know, right?” he says, laughing. “Like I said, a miracle!”
He chuckles to himself while he walks down the hallway. Michel reaches out and touches me as if to stop me from responding; I do my best to swallow my anger. I follow without speaking, wondering about Dylan’s role in all this and what exactly Soren did to force his compliance. I can’t believe that Dylan complied willingly.
Does Soren have Dylan’s parents now? Was that part of Soren’s agreement with Blackstone? Does Soren have mine?
I bite my cheek, doing my best not to run after Soren and throw myself at him in a blind attempt to kill him with my own bare hands. However good it would feel to try, I know it would end with me dead and Soren no worse for wear.
“I hope you saw all this,” I mutter to Michel.
He smiles but doesn’t answer.
“Well?” I say as we follow Soren into the study. “Did you?”
“Don’t worry, Eve,” Michel says softly. “Everything will be fine.”
He looks calm, as if he’s accepted what’s happened and what will happen. I wish I could feel his optimism, but I don’t. I fear that Soren will screw us over and we’ll be faced with watching as the world falls into the steam age, millions of people dying from starvation and the chaos that ensues.
Soren goes to his huge, ornate desk and sorts through some papers. He finds one and brings it to me. “I believe you’ve already seen a version of this,” he says and hands me a map similar to the one Chris showed us at Fort Devens. It marks off the spread of the plague and the world’s largest oil fields. I see that the largest ones are not yet affected by the plague. “There’s a tiny bit of wiggle room left before the plague hits Ghawar in Saudi Arabia, the natural gas fields in Russia, and the Athabasca Tar Sands in Canada, but not much. We have to get this show on the road, so to speak.”
