by S. E. Lund
"I can't," I gasp, and then he thrusts hard and fast. It intensifies my orgasm because I feel his pleasure on top of my own and he feels mine. It's too much and I clench around him. The pleasure goes on and on as he thrusts harder, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me to meet him with each thrust. He grunts as he comes, his body shaking as he leans on me.
Then he collapses on top of me and kisses my shoulder, the back of my neck. My emotions overwhelm me, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes. I turn my head to the side, not wanting him to see them.
I know that things will never be the same.
I wake while it's still dark and he's not beside me. I hear him in the bathroom and he's wearing only his boxer briefs, washing his face when I go in to join him.
"Time to go?" I say, admiring his physique, sad that dawn has to part us.
"Time for bed," he says and when he's finished drying his hands, he grabs me and pulls me against him, my hands in one of his behind my back, his grip tight. Why does that send such a thrill through me?
"You must sleep as well. Training starts tonight. I want to show you how to kill vampires up close and personal, so you'll be able to defend yourself. Make sure you're well-rested."
I frown. I wanted to speak with him about Montana, the sense of unease I've felt since we met Soren surfacing.
"Michel, I want to talk about Montana."
"Tomorrow night, Eve. We'll do a full debrief. I don’t have a lot of time right now and you need to get some sleep."
I nod and lean against him, looking up into his eyes. "I think I'm going to have a very good sleep."
"You were already sleeping like a baby." He kisses me, softly.
"I wish you could stay and sleep with me."
"I know," he says. "Can't risk it. My home is designed to protect me from the sun. Besides, Vasily will be getting really bored out in the car."
"You have a guard outside?"
"Have one posted at the front and back door. I have to be safe. But soon, you'll come to my place and sleep with me all day if you want."
"I want," I say. Then he lets my hands go and he puts his watch on and pulls his sweater over his head. I stand naked, watching him dress, and he glances at me and smiles.
"What a lovely way to start the morning," he says and comes to me when he's dressed, lifting my chin with a finger. "A naked Eve, smiling, displaying her dimples. The way my day should always start." He kisses me. "If you're able to submit to me, when you do, you'll move in with me and I want you to be naked at all times when we're alone in our suite."
"When I move in with you?"
He nods. "Yes," he says, taking my shoulders in his hands. "You'll live with me and protect me, as I said. We'll be together at all times, even when I sleep."
I frown. "What about my apartment?"
"You can keep it if you want, but you won't need it."
I smile, but I don't know if I like this – moving in with him so soon. "We've only just met," I say, unable to hide the hesitance in my voice. "I have cats."
"Eve," he says and pulls me into his arms. "Remember – all in or all out. I'd say you could bring your cats, except I have several Dobermans who patrol the house. We'll make sure your cats are cared for."
I force a smile. "I said all in. I meant it." Of course, then I think about meeting Julien in Montana when I went outside early in the morning to get a cup of coffee.
When Michel kisses me, then he must sense my thoughts for he pulls away, frowning.
"He was there?"
I clench my fists, a surge of guilt and frustration flowing through me that I'm unable to control his access to my mind.
"Don't be upset with me. I have no control over what Julien does."
Michel shakes his head, clearly upset. Finally, he leans his forehead against mine and exhales. "Of course you don't. I'm not upset with you. I just wish Julien could let this drop, but he's stubborn."
Then he pulls away and stares in my eyes as if searching for my feelings for Julien. Yes, Julien is beautiful – like Michel – but he's not Michel.
He's completely different.
It's Michel I want. As if he senses that, Michel leans in again and kisses me and I'm once more completely unwound by his touch and by the connection we share. I feel his need for me to be his, and his alone, totally under his control. It makes me weak, but also a little fearful.
Then he's gone and I'm alone again. I creep into my bed and pull the covers over my head, wondering what tonight will bring.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"Fear may induce the show of submission, but love only can truly subjugate a haughty spirit."
Mary Cowden Clarke
I go to the office the next evening, expecting to see Michel there waiting for me, but Ed tells me Michel's not in yet. I'm relieved and sad at the same time. I thought he'd be there when I arrived. I hoped he hadn't got second thoughts after last night.
"I have to talk to you," I say to Ed. "Soren's the River Man."
"What?" he says, making a face. "You're crazy. We already cleared him of the murder in Montana. He had an alibi."
"Ed, I read him on the plane. He's the one. I know it."
"Did you see his kills?"
I frown. I didn't see his kills. But I know he felt the same as the one who touched those items I did – the beach glass – the slip of paper with my name on it.
"No, but I read him, Ed. I know he's the killer. Maybe he ordered them or maybe he was there, but he did it.
"Sorry, Eve. You need to see him doing it for it to stick as a blood witness. Otherwise, it's not evidence."
I sit alone in the room and wonder what it was I felt. I spend the first part of the evening just reviewing the case, mulling it over in my head. Other than the building manager, I'm alone in the main SCU office after Ed leaves for the on-call room down the hall because he pulled an all-day and nighter. Terri had a lecture earlier that evening and reception afterwards and wasn't coming in so I'm alone.
I glance over at Terri's office, which is beside Ed's. The door's ajar and so I go in and turn on the light, wondering if Terri has any less-dry reading material on the cases they'd prosecuted in the past. Julien said everything was in the files here and in my mother's files, and so I'm tempted to go sleuthing. Several filing cabinets are off to the side of the room and so I go to each and open them up, checking to see what they contain. Two of the three open, and contain a lot of material but none of it looks really interesting. The third is locked.
That's the one with interesting material, as Julien said. I open the top drawer of Terri's desk, fishing around in the assortment of paper clips, glue sticks and pens for a key to the file cabinet. Sure enough, there's one stuck to the side of the metal drawer with one of those magnetic key holders.
Bingo.
Breathless, knowing I shouldn't really be snooping, I go to the filing cabinet and open it up. Inside are personnel files dating back to the inception of the SCU almost thirty years earlier. The files are old and faded, the edges frayed, and a slightly musty scent wafts up when I pull a file out.
Some research papers on Adepts. One looks especially interesting, describing a new research program to use gene therapy to induce mutations using vampire DNA. Taking it makes me feel uneasy but because it's so old, I doubt anyone will miss it. I go and get my backpack so I can take it home with me when I leave.
Then, I flip through the files in search for something about Michel.
Sure enough, there's one and what's most interesting is that he's had two partners over the past ten years that worked at the SCU. The first lasted seven years – a Michelle Joyce. She died on a mission and had a Do Not Resuscitate order on her file, so no one could save her by making her a vampire. The second died less than a year ago, killed as part of the River Man case. Neither of the two Adepts could fight and it was that inability that contributed to their deaths.
No wonder they want Adepts who can fight and beat a vampire. Every single Adept that worked for th
e SCU since its inception has died on the job. I pick through the files, checking each one, numbness filling me.
Damn. It's like open season on Adepts.
Then, I look for my own file. There's a folder in the drawer with my name on it. The file's new, and there are several images of me dating back to when I was just a child. A shiver goes through me...
How did they get these? From my father?
One when I was three and taking my first piano lessons.
One at eight when I was performing at a recital. I played Fur Elise.
One at nine when I was in a competition for young pianists and won.
One of me at eleven, after my mother's death when I was at the funeral with my father, who already looked as if he was on the way to the psych ward.
One of me when I was taken into protective custody after he crashed and I spent the night on the porch. I'd been mosquito bitten and was sunburned from wandering around in the summer sun without adequate protection, unable to get inside because he'd been on a alcohol and drug bender and never came home.
One of me in the hospital. What?
There's a tube down my throat as if I'm ventilated.
How come I don't remember?
I barely remember that period of my life. John and Vanessa Barnes, a couple with Council connections had been appointed to take custody of me and become my legal guardians but the Council lost track of me when my file went missing and I was given to another couple not in the system.
A whole lot of darkness followed that – a darkness I take pains not to remember.
Attached to the back of the sheet on my background were a few papers stapled together on my mother. She moved to Boston and went to school there, getting a Masters and PhD before joining the Council to work as a researcher. She met and married my father, Sean Hayden, a concert pianist, in 1988.
Then a line in a legal document signed by my mother and father:
"Subject accepted implantation on August 21, 1989 of three enhanced embryos. Two registered to the Council and one for the subject and spouse to raise. In the event only one embryo survives to birth, that surviving child will be property of the Council's Enhanced Adept program, to be turned over to the Council's liaison at three days of age, to be raised by foster parents and trained to become part of the program..."
That's the contract Michel referred to that first night.
Another report from a hospital where it was found I was the only surviving triplet implanted in my mother's womb. The other two embryos failed to implant, as shown on the ultrasound at sixteen weeks.
I was genetically enhanced… I'd always thought I was a freak of nature and that my skills were a fluke. But I was made?
The transfer to the Council's liaison never happened. Before I was even born, my mother ran with my father, disappearing on a transatlantic flight before anyone knew. She only relented once I turned ten and she decided that it was better to prepare me for the life, in case someone found me. That must have been when she met Julien. She returned to Boson and that's when she got the manuscript.
I sit in the chair at Terri's desk, reading over the lost details of my life – the true details and a sense of shock settles over me like a shroud. A bit lightheaded, my limbs feeling numb, I cover my mouth and bite back tears.
Here I am, after everything my parents did to prevent me becoming an Adept, working for the Council.
A sound draws my attention away from the file. It's Ed, standing in the doorway. I close the file and put it on the desk in front of me, not meeting his eyes.
"Eve, what are you doing?" He comes to me and reaches down, picking up the file.
"Finding out the truth." I stand and turn to face him, my cheeks burning.
He picks up my backpack and removes the file on adepts and examines it for a moment.
"Eve," he says disapprovingly. He picks up his cell and dials a number, then shakes his head. "Where the fuck is Michel when you need him?" He waits and then speaks on the phone.
"You better get back, soon. Like tonight. We have a major fucking breach in security and I need you to answer your fucking phone." He hangs up and goes to the door.
"Come with me," he says and I follow him into his office like a truant student in the principal's office. Ed sits across from me, his hands folded. He's mad at me, but I'm even more furious with everyone.
"Why won't you explain things to me?" I say, angry that he's apparently ignoring me.
"Terri will speak with you tomorrow, since it was her files you broke into."
"You know the answers," I say, unwilling to stand down. "When were you ever going to tell me that I'm some kind of test project? Never?"
"You're angry. I get that, Eve. Let me enlighten you about something. This is a military operation," he says and pounds a finger onto the desk. "There's a chain of command and people get information on a need-to-know basis. You have to learn to take orders, submit to authority. Period."
He sends me home and I take a cab, retreating into my flat to nurse my wounds. Michel will be mad. He said Julien would try to stir things up, and he was right. I'm mad as well, confused about what to think and what to believe.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
"At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet."
Plato
The phone rings in the middle of the night, waking me up out of a dead sleep. I grab it and check the caller ID – O'Neil, Ed.
"Eve speaking."
"Hey, sorry to wake you so soon, but something's happened. You have to come back in."
"What?" I rub my forehead, still barely awake.
"I'll be there in ten to pick you up. Buckle up, Eve. This one's gonna be a hell of a ride."
"Tell me," I say, eager to hear what's up.
"Can't," he says. "Security. Just be outside."
He hangs up the phone and I get up and run around the apartment, trying pull myself together. I grab my coat and shoulder bag and run down the stairs. The car is there and Ed opens the door to the sedan.
"Get in. Prepare yourself."
I sit and fasten my seatbelt, thinking of his words. Buckle up, Eve.
"What is it?"
He clicks on the overhead light and hands me a fax sheet. As the sedan speeds off into the dark Boston night, I examine the fax and have to look twice at the image.
Michel. But then I see it's not him. The hair's too short and there's the long scar on the side of his head.
"Julien?" A shock courses through me and I feel dizzy. I turn to him.
He nods.
"Someone took him out. He's dead, but he's recoverable."
"What does that mean?"
"It means a load of pain for Michel."
At first, I feel faint because I thought it was Michel, but I also feel close to Julien, having read his words and his story and now having met him and spoken to him. I stare at the image of him. My first thought – a crazy thought – is that it was Michel, but it couldn't be him.
"It was Soren," I say.
"No," Ed says, making a face of disbelief. "He told Michel that if he brought you to see him, he'd spare Julien," Ed says.
"I can't believe you'd accept what he says. He's a killer and a manipulator."
Ed shrugs. I stare at the fax and feel incredible guilt that Julien's been staked because of me. I realize I've been warming to Julien. I examine the photographs taken of his body, which show him lying on the grass in a park outside the cathedral, a stake through his heart, his beautiful face contorted in agony, his blue eyes half-open, his hands around the base of the stake and I'm shaken that he's dead.
"He's not really dead dead, right?"
"Technically, he's dead dead, but just not destroyed. He's still got his head, so he can be resurrected. If the killer had cut off his head, he'd be unrecoverable."
"How do they recover him?"
"Only with the blood of an Ancient and unless Michel has connections, they're few and far between. Only about two-hundred spread out around the world and
as a whole, they're nasty fuckers. Although Soren seemed like an OK guy."
"OK?" I say, shaking my head. "He's a monster. He has Michel firmly under his thumb. He compelled you, Ed. Can't you see?"
"He said he wouldn't hurt Julien. Someone else did it."
We drive across the bridge to the cathedral grounds where they found his body. The old stone building sits surrounded by trees, its turrets reminding me of castles in Hungary where my father conducted a string quartet when I was a child.
The murder took place in a small copse of evergreens near the corner of the grounds a short distance from the entrance to the Holy Cross Cathedral. We stop at the side of the road and I leave the car to stand beneath the huge boughs of one tall evergreen. Police have cordoned off the area with yellow tape, which flaps in the wind. Ed speaks with the detective in charge as he leaves. He ushers me over. From where we stand I can make out a dark stain on the ground. Blood. Julien's blood.
"Our suspect must have arranged to meet him here and then staked him."
"Where's the body?"
"Being taken to the SCU morgue. I've claimed jurisdiction."
"Any witnesses?"
"One. They're transferring him to the SCU to be interviewed. He's a derelict. Seems pretty crazy. Homeless guy who hangs out around the cathedral hoping for handouts."
Several bystanders crowd together on the sidewalk across from the crime scene and speak together. A uniform keeps them away from the church grounds.
"Any other witnesses?" I say, glancing at the crowd.
"Ed shakes his head. "Naw, it was really late. Everyone was asleep and no one admits hearing anything out of the ordinary." Ed turns to me. "Do you want to look around, see if you can find anything?"
"Sure," I say and duck under the tape. "But I already know who did it." I take the flashlight and point it around. I run a hand over the dirt where the bloodstain was located but nothing turns up. There really isn't much to see – just pine needles and a few bits of old newspaper. I touch the paper just in case, but get nothing from it.
