Ascension (5 page)

"Um, he wants me to check into research on vampire immunity. Something about why the sun affects you. How are you able to daywalk? When did that happen?"

"Let me tell you a little story," he says, staring at me from under those dark brows. "Once upon a time, there was a private organization in
South Carolina
," he says, his voice quiet. "A very private organization. Funded by a number of very powerful political, business and military interests. Oversaw a corporation that was a combination security operation with big no-bid off-the-books defense and civilian contracts. Had a large population of vampires on which to experiment – all those incarcerated by the SCU and in tanks, waiting for their sentences to be up. One of the really cutting edge research projects was trying to turn us into daywalkers. You know, to use us all the time instead of just at night." He leans forward. "At least, that was the justification for the experiments. They took vampires – guys used to using killing to stay alive – and tried to turn them into high functioning operatives with no fear, no qualms about using violence, and no remorse. Hard as fuck to kill."

"You were one of them."

He nods.

"The organization wanted me. I was already working for the Council. I was a star candidate with hundreds of years as a knight and soldier. I scored high on IQ tests, had superior hand-eye coordination, spatial orientation, verbal skills. I was healthy. I could see fifteen steps ahead instead of just what was directly in front of me the way most grunts are. We were going to be super warriors. A group of us went to Ranger training camp. Even got some good clandestine training courtesy of the CIA."

"How did they use you? The wars?"

"
Iraq
.
Iran
. Saudi.
Russia
. Oilandgasistan. Wherever there was a need to take people out to ensure the direction of the flow of petroleum was favorable to us, keeping the machinery of power working."

"What happened?"

"We got into a situation – an op in
Iraq
with too many civilian casualties. Real messy. Some of my soldiers left bodies behind. Then, the organization took care of us. Cleaned house. They terminated everyone with, shall I say, extreme prejudice so they could start it back up in another guise. I was betrayed, turned over to the enemy. I survived. Luckily, although sometimes I wonder, I really wonder. Luckily, I was picked up by another survivor, and we hid out. That's why I went to live at the monastery. Hiding out."

He shakes his head disgustedly.

I sat in silence for a moment, trying to take it all in.

"So you’re fighting those in the organization who betrayed you?"

"Blackstone."

Blackstone?
 
"I heard Michel talk about it before. They're out for Dominion."

He nods.

"Now, Eve," he says and leans forward. "I'm going to tell you what Michel didn't want to tell you. He wanted to protect you, but I figure you're mine now. I want you to know. To understand. Maybe you'll stop fighting me."

I nod, a bit ill at ease because I'm scared now by his tone.

"To achieve Dominion, the Blackstone group plans to destroy modern electronic technology and send humans back to the steam age. Then, vampires will no longer be under threat. You humans have just developed too much advanced technology and now it’s a threat to us."

I sit in silence, a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"How?"

"That's the question. We don't know the details. Just the broad strokes."

"Destroying all electronic technology? That would kill so many people. People rely on technology to keep them alive. People on ventilators. People with pacemakers. Airplanes, navigation."

"Humans have to get real, Eve. Vampires are coming for you. You need people like Michel and me to fight them."

I cover my mouth with a hand and looked away.

"Is Blackstone a vampire group?"

"Not just vampires. Humans as well. Collaborators who want a place in the new order. Blackstone wanted to create this super vampire warrior to use in this war against humans. You see, even with recruits offering to fight for Dominion – and there are – you’d be surprised. Even with them, war is hard on your average human," Julien continues, his voice taking on an amused tone. "There's a real need for warriors who can kill without all that messy emotional stuff to hold them back. Why not create a special private army of natural born killers? Hunters of humans? I thought I was going to be a warrior protecting the Treaty and I find out I'm protecting those out for Dominion. I have to prevent that at all costs." He stares at me. "That's what my whole life –
Michel's
whole life – is about. Preventing Dominion. Michel and I? We're infiltrators. We're fighting from within."

“Soren’s part of Blackstone?”

“No,” he says. “Soren’s out to control Blackstone. He has his own agenda.”

“Can we fight them?”

“We have to. I don’t want Dominion.”

“Why not? Wouldn’t it mean you vampires would have power? Isn’t that what you want? Power over us?”

He leans forward, his face intense.

“Eve, I was a priest. Sure, I wasn’t a good one, but I was. Sure, I love blood. I love the hunt. I love feeding. But I don’t want you to be like factory-farmed cows. What makes it so sweet,” he says and closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. “What makes it so sweet is when you’re free and you choose it. Choose
us
.” He shakes his head. “You can’t possibly understand. But know this, what Blackstone wants is for you to be nothing more than slaves and cows.”

Tears sting at the corner of my eyes and I bite down hard on my lip to stop them. I know he has no patience for sniveling, and really, if what he says is true, anger is the only proper response to his story. I can't summon it. My overwhelming response is horror and grief.

Fighting Dominion is what killed my mother.

I don't want to even look at him and show my weakness. I leave him in the main bedroom and try to close myself in the bathroom but the lock is broken and the door won't shut. I sit on the toilet, covering my face with a towel so he won't hear me cry.

He knocks on the door, and it opens on its own. He comes in, looks at me sitting there with a wet facecloth in my hands to mop up my eyes, and he picks up the knife, pocketing it as if concerned I'll use it again.

I wipe my eyes once more, get control over myself.

"So, you'll help me?" he says. "No more resistance?"

He stands there in the bathroom doorway, his figure taking up most of its space, his shirt opened a few buttons, his hair tousled and he looked so damn strong and desirable. I know that if I'd met him first, I'd want him. I go to him and put my arms around his waist, not intending it in a sexual way, but out of care for him, for the human he once was and for how honorable he is now. He's startled at first by my embrace – I can tell by the slight hesitation before he returns it. Then he pulls me closer, his breath hitching just a bit.

"Eve," he says, amusement in his voice. "If I'd have known this would be your response, I'd have told you the whole sob story right away."

I squeeze harder, my head fitting perfectly in the space beneath his chin. Then I pull away when I feel his body respond to me.

"That wasn't me offering anything except compassion, Sir Julien, Knight defender of humans." I smile up at him and I mean it. He
is
a knight, despite the rough demeanor. I know he's honorable. I dart out of the bathroom, exhaling with relief and some regret as I escape his arms. I turn to face him when he enters the room. "It was just one person to another."

"Whatever you say, Eve," he says and chuckles. "Whatever you say. But I like it when you call me Sir. Maybe a bit too much."

I glance at my watch. It reads 9:20 – too early to go to bed, but I'm completely wiped after everything that's happened since my walk home from work. My knees actually shake just a bit, my eyes feel swollen and itchy. I need to wash my face, brush my teeth and go to bed.

"I'm really tired. Could we discuss this tomorrow? I have to go to the lab tomorrow morning. I need to sleep."

He nods and then picks up the channel changer.

"Go ahead. I'll keep the sound down."

"You're not staying."

"Yes I am. Don't worry. I'll sleep in this bed. You can take the other one."

"No, you have your own room."

"Uh, uh." He looks at me and shakes his head, then flicks on the television and searches channels. "Not a chance. You think I'm going to leave you alone after what I've told you? I don't think so. For one, you could run away and tell someone and then I'd be exposed, all my plans for nothing. For another, I don't know if you realize this but I do have enemies. They've probably seen me sniffing around you like a hungry dog. I expect that I've been followed. That's why Vasily's sitting down in the lobby."

"That's crazy."

"Eve, you're vulnerable. They could take you and try to use you to get to me. Like Luke did." He kicks off his shoes and stretches out on the other bed, one hand behind his head, the other wielding the channel changer as he surfs the news. "I'm not honorable enough to risk my life to save your life, so I'd rather not be put in that position. I need you alive."

I stand with my hands on my hips, fighting with myself over my response. On the one hand, he's right. I could run and tell. I might very well be in danger. On the other, he might also just be using this as a clever ruse.

"How do I know you won't try to use this opportunity to give me more encouragement?”

He rolls his eyes. "Eve, if I wanted to, I could tie you up in about oh, six seconds, and have my way with you and there'd be nothing –
nothing
– you could do about it except enjoy it." He looks at me, the intensity of his gaze imparting the truth of it. "I've told you more than enough. Now, I don't get off on rape so rest your little mind. Get in bed. Go to sleep."

I sigh. He'll do what he wants and there's nothing I can really do about it, short of getting myself killed. I take my overnight bag into the bathroom and try to keep the door closed with the ice bucket and my bag. After my usual routine of washing my face, brushing my teeth and hair, I put on my nightgown – a simple white cotton nightgown with delicate lace on the neckline and straps – more pretty than sexy. The one I wore when Michel came into my apartment that first time. I hold my bag in front of me as I return to the main room.

"Nice." He glances over briefly when I enter. I throw back the covers to the bed next to the bathroom and jump underneath so he can't see me for more than a second. "I had you pegged as more the granny gown type, Eve, but I'm not disappointed to be wrong."

"Goodnight,
Sir
Julien." I say, emphasizing the 'sir' part to remind him he's supposed to be honorable. I turn off the lamp on my bedside table, pressing my reluctant smile into my pillow.

"Sweet dreams, Eve." He chuckles. "I know mine will be rather tortured."

I wake up, my eyes adjusting to the low light in the hotel room. Julien's body is spooned against mine, one arm thrown over me. He snores softly behind me. I panic just a bit, then try to keep my breathing slow and steady, hoping to appear as if I'm still asleep just in case he's also pretending. I don't want to deal with this now – this little
pas de deux
as he called it – whatever it is. I turn over and he turns over with me, his arm withdrawn. His breathing changes its pattern. He's awake.

I wait, wondering what he'll do, torn between wanting him to roll back over and lie on top of me and him doing nothing.

He does nothing, just lies there. Maybe he's asleep after all. I keep still, breathing in slowly, out slowly. I try to focus on something other than the body next to mine – thinking of the tests I'll be setting up tomorrow, the PCA analysis, the biochemical screens. I think of hundreds of test tubes, one after another, hundreds of pipettes filling with liquids, Bunsen burners, gas chromatography . . .

When I next a
wake
n
, the bed's empty beside me. I have to pee and tiptoe over to the bathroom. Before I open it, I see through the crack that he's inside. My immediate response is to pull away, but the image I see makes me stay for a second longer than's polite.

He stands over the toilet, pants and boxers around his ankles, leaning against the wall with one arm supporting his weight, his hand spread out on the wall while the other hand strokes himself. Jammed into his mouth is a rolled up facecloth.

I tiptoe back to my bed and silently slip beneath the covers. I lie there, my heart pounding, my own flesh throbbing at the image of him masturbating, and the thought of him trying to hide the sounds of his orgasm.

The thrill of it clashes with the sense of warning in my heart. The two of us are like trains approaching each other on the same track. Right now, I'm pretty much stationary, but he's hurtling towards me, picking up speed. I knew if I move towards him with any speed, the inevitable crash could destroy us both.