Retribution (Book 3 of The Dominion Series) (10 page)

“I’m sorry,” I say when he pulls back so I no longer feel his desire. “I’m nervous.”

“It’s OK. You’ll feel better soon.”

I feed on his neck as he likes me to, and when I have enough, I just lie in his arms, the endorphins from his blood relieving my anxiety. He lays me back on the couch and rolls on top of me, his face in the crook of my neck, breathing in my perfume. Soon, I start to respond again to the feel of his body on mine, of his lips pressed against my neck. He doesn’t want to feed on me tonight. He wants me to be as strong as possible for my training.

But he thinks one last fuck won’t hurt me and I see his mind and how he wants me. He wants to fuck me missionary style, my legs wrapped around his waist, him resting on his elbows, his face over mine so we can watch each other’s pleasure.

So we do.

Julien spent the night preparing his blood for my stay in France – fourteen small vials of his blood so I won't go through withdrawal and we can still connect.

We fly on his private jet. The flight is long and my nerves are on edge as the plane taxis down the runway of the private airport where he keeps his plane. He takes my hand and relieves some of the anxiety I feel and we sit like that for a long time, side by side, hands joined across the narrow aisle between the seats.

After a night of flying, we land in France and drive the rest of the way to Carcassonne. Being there brings a sadness to Julien that I can sense even at a distance. So many memories he has about this city and his transformation. So many battles fought in the surrounding areas during the crusades.

“It makes you sad to be here,” I say as we walk the cobblestone streets of the old walled city before the drive to the Abbey where I’ll train. “I don’t remember reading the manuscript but I know you and Michel lived here when you were children and then later… after...”

He threads his fingers through mine. “It’s been so long since I’ve been here. It’s a bit hard, the memories.”

We stop in front of a stone dwelling, with new windows and white plaster on the outside.

“This is where she lived,” he says, his voice soft.

“Who?”

“Danielle. The one you resemble.”

I remember what I read in my journal. Soren compelled Michel to kill Danielle. Just like he compelled him to kill my mother. I didn't judge Michel so harshly when I read that journal entry. Part of me knows that Michel wasn't responsible, but my feelings are still so raw.

“You loved her?”

“In my way. The way a seventeen-year old boy-man loves. With total abandon, but incredibly shallowly.”

“How is love different now?”

“It’s deep,” he says and squeezes my hand. “But the abandon isn’t there any longer. That’s a thing of youth and innocence. It comes from the belief that love never ends. Now, I think there’s always a bit held back. For protection.”

“That’s sad.”

He smiles briefly but even now, there's a touch of pain in his eyes.

“Scar tissue is a great motivator.”

Poor Julien – to think I was dead all that time… My throat constricts and I squeeze his hand more tightly.

We drive through the countryside towards the Pyrénées Mountains and anticipation builds inside of me as we near the Abbey. It’s nestled in a high mountain valley, surrounded by forests, the old stone building with a walled enclosure and a huge garden inside.

The guard at the gate takes Julien’s and my passports and reads them over then motions Julien through. We arrive at the massive front doors of the Abbey de St. Michel, and I get out and stand in awe at the ancient building.

I sign papers and Julien meets with the trainers while I receive my gear and have my blood taken by a medic with a tray. Then it’s time for Julien to leave and I tear up, suddenly afraid and surprised that I already miss him.

“Shh,” he says and wraps his arms around me, his chin resting on the top of my head. “You’ll be fine. You’re very gifted. Just try to focus on the training, do everything to the best of your ability, and think of me at night when you’re lying in bed. I’ll feel you thinking of me. They say you shouldn’t masturbate during training so your energy won’t be wasted and so I won’t either. But I will think of you and we can connect for a while.” He bends down and looks in my eyes. “But if either of our minds go there, I’ll shut you out, so be warned. I want you to pass with flying colors, Eve. No hanky-panky.”

“Hanky-panky…” I say and blink away tears.

Then the moment comes to part and I stand there, wiping my cheeks. He walks down the hall and away from me for two weeks.

I follow one of the trainers to my little cell of a room with a narrow single bed and dresser, a desk with a light and a crucifix on the wall over the head of the bed. These rooms, she tells me, were once meant for monks who lived in total silence. All residents are expected to maintain a vow of silence while at the Abbey except during training and to talk with officials and trainers. No talk with other students is permitted. Lights out at 9:00 p.m.

She leaves me and I sit on the bed as darkness encroaches on the Abbey. It’s now 8:30 and I have half an hour to get settled, so I unpack the few possessions I am allowed to use – pen and paper, my clothes, toothbrush, bar soap, shampoo and conditioner, brush, comb and medications if needed. Everything else is provided by the Program.

Finally, I drink down the vial of Julien's blood and lie down on the hard little bed and close my eyes, the endorphin rush overwhelming me. Sleep is a long time in coming. When my mind searches out Julien, he’s still on the road back to Carcassonne, and I feel a brief rush of love from him and then he shuts me out.

Training is intense.

If I thought I was worked hard as a child at my father’s knee, it was nothing compared to training at the Abbey. We work all day, starting at dawn, doing work to improve all aspects of our physical health, from balance to strength to reflexes. We learn about weapons, about fighting tactics. We learn about making weapons from everyday materials in case we’re ambushed.

Each night I go to bed aching from the day’s exertions, drinking down the small vial of Julien’s blood. Then I lie in a kind of stupor as it heals me of my pain and fatigue. It’s then I want to connect with Julien, but he denies me for fear we’ll both succumb to our lust. Instead, we connect right before I drink it when I’m still exhausted and aching from the most recent bouts.

I lose fat while I’m there, and gain muscle. I can start to see definition in my muscles that I never had before and when I look in the mirror, I’m different. My face changes – my chin is sharper, my cheekbones more defined.

Julien was right. This is changing me. I am stronger. I feel more confident.

Finally, we each get our own sparring partner, who we’ll work with for the last three days of training. Mine wears a traditional Japanese costume, a Ninja-like outfit, except for the ornate scowling mask covering his entire face. He stands stiff while I enter the dojo during our first session and bows to me when I take my weapons and stand before him.

I bow back, and then my coach signals that we can start fighting and I lunge at him. He’s fast, so I gather that he’s another Adept who has already gone through training. I’ve improved tremendously during the past ten days, but he’s still better than me, always seeming one step ahead of me when we fall into fight trance.

Still, either I’m really good or he just keeps a bit ahead of me, letting me show my ability without shutting me down, but we seem to be almost equals. The fight goes on and on, much longer than normal and by the time our weapons are locked together, sweat is dripping off my face and my cheeks are hot, my breath ragged.

“You’re good,” he says, his voice muffled from behind the mask. “One of the best.”

He pushes me, managing to get his foot behind me, and I trip and fall back and he’s on top of me, his swords crossed and it’s a good thing they’re wooden or I’d be dead.

Then he pulls his mask off and it’s Michel…

CHAPTER EIGHT

"Love is a better teacher than duty."

Albert Einstein

“Julien really thinks he can protect you. That you can protect yourself,” he says, and his voice is hard, his blue eyes hooded, his hair falling in his eyes. “He can’t even protect you from me.” Michel is barely out of breath while I’m gasping. He's lying on top of me, his body heavy on mine. “If I could find you, how much easier would it be for Soren?”

I blink the sweat out of my eyes.

“If Soren wants me, he’ll take me. I’m resigned to that. He obviously doesn’t want me or he’d have taken me by now.”

“Or maybe he just wants to torture me a little longer by letting you stay with Julien before he does decide to take you from both of us.”

I try to wriggle out from underneath him, but he’s too strong and keeps me pinned beneath him.

“Are you going to let me up?”

“Have pity on me, Eve," he says, his gaze moving over my face. "Considering I had you back with me for so short a time before losing you again, you might just stay like this for a moment," he says. "Indulge me. It reminds me of another time we fought and the positions were reversed. Do you remember?”

“You know I don't," I say. "I've read a passage about it in my journal, but that's it."

Then, he joins his mind with mine, showing me the fight through his eyes.

Michel stands at the ready, waiting for me to enter the Dojo. I walk in, my cheeks bright pink from the chill air, the umbrella in my hand, my Boston U backpack over one shoulder, my hair a bit mussed from the wind.

I feel a surge of desire from him as he sees my face. His lust is mixed with a deep fondness for me that surprises me. Then I watch through his eyes as I run for the wooden practice swords and fight him, easily beating him, and I appear to him like a blur. Finally, he sees me as I lie on top of him and he's thinking that I'm amazing. I'm magnificent. I'm far too beautiful.

He wants me. He's already falling in love with me and can't resist me. Most of all, he wants me to kiss him as I lie on top of him.

He wants me to choose him.

Then he releases me from the shared memory and I'm back in the dojo in France, with his body still heavy on top of me.

He's here to take me back.

"Don't think you can just take me and I'll go along with you. I’ll fight you every step of the way.”

He smiles, his smile lopsided, his blue eyes dark. “I once told you I love brats, Eve. I do. Don't think that would dissuade me."

“Does Julien know you’re here? If he doesn't, he will soon enough. He'll come to rescue me.”

“Forget about Julien for just a moment. You need to listen to me, Eve. I’ve stood on the sidelines just to see what his game was, and I’ve seen it now. I’m here to ask that you come back to me.”

“You're
asking
or telling?”

He closes his eyes for a moment and exhales, his usually soft lips a tight line.

“Asking.”

I consider for a moment. He's actually
asking
me? Part of me doesn't believe it.

"Why would I come back to you, knowing what I know?"

“You know I didn’t do it under my own will."

"Tell me everything or you might as well leave now."

He sighs. "Julien wants to use you as an ordinary Adept, finding rogues and prosecuting them like you're a pair of police detectives. He has no ambition except to keep you by his side. That’s a waste of your gifts, Eve. I need to use you as you were intended to be used – to fight Soren. We’re going to join his coven and discover just what his plans are. You’ll be my pet.”

“Julien wants me as his partner. As equals. Why isn't that good enough for you?”

“I've already explained this. I have to trust you completely. You have to trust me completely. Soren has to believe you are under my control."

"You aren't in danger anymore. You don't need my protection. Besides, I thought you wanted to keep me out of this life."

He says nothing for a moment. "You want back in, and I know now I can't stop you. I tried and failed. I want you. I need you to stop Soren."

I can't believe he's actually here, thinking he can just take me back, especially after what happened between us. I decide to hear him out.

"And if I say yes?"

As I say the words, I swear I can see hope in his face, his eyes almost pleading.

"If you say yes, we’re going to do this right. The way I planned on doing it from the start.”

“What does
that
mean?” I say, but I think I know what he means. He wants to do the whole Dominance/submission thing. For us to be Master and slave. Why is it that, even now, the thought appeal to me so? A little jolt of lust goes right to my groin and I hate myself for it, my emotions clashing.