Retribution (Book 3 of The Dominion Series) (23 page)

“The Church.”

Julien nods. “He thinks he’s one step ahead of Blackstone and will just swoop in and take over when they make their move, using your group of Adepts to do so. I don’t know all the details, but he’s maneuvering himself into place to take power when the opportunity arises.”

“You think Blackstone’s the real threat?”

“They most definitely are. They’re the ones who will send things into a tailspin. Soren’s hoping to take advantage, fill the power vacuum. In times of crisis, people turn to religion. They need to believe in something. He wants to be the one thing they can hold onto in times of chaos.”

“Why haven’t you told me this before?”

He shrugs. “Before the bomb, I figured there was only so much you needed to know. Things changed when I thought I’d lost you. When I thought you were dead.”

“So you’re less concerned about Soren than Blackstone.”

He nods. “If we stop Blackstone, Soren’s pretty much out of luck. He’s hoping they’ll succeed and then he can launch his strike and then take over. I have to prevent that.”

He pulls me close and kisses me, then kisses his bite mark on my neck.

“Things will be uncomfortable for you tonight with Michel there. I can drug you so that you’re not upset.”

I take in a deep breath, and wonder what to expect. With Soren, I just don't know.

“Let me manage on my own. I have to get tough if I’m going to be of any use to you. Besides, I
chose
you.”

“You did. I hope you don’t regret it.”

“Never.”

I cup his face in my hands. He’s so beautiful with those black-lashed blue eyes, that soft mouth. I lean down and kiss him.

“You smell so nice,” I say as he pulls me into an embrace.

“Sandalwood.”

I pull back. “You like it, too?”

“You like it,” he says, a wistful smile on his face as he brushes hair off my cheek. “I want you to be happy.”

“It doesn’t bother you that it’s Michel’s scent?”

“You like it. That’s good enough.”

“I love you,” I say and kiss him, running my fingers through his hair. I pull back and stare in his eyes. “I’m afraid of Soren.”

“You don’t show it,” he says and smiles. “He really thinks that when he needs you, you’ll just do what he says. He has no doubt. If he threatens you, it’s just for show. I doubt he’d kill you no matter how much you resist him.”

“Why is he so sure?”

Julien shrugs. “He’ll just use his secret weapon.”

“Which is?”

He strokes my hair. “He’ll just threaten to kill us and you’ll have to choose between our deaths and compliance.”

I close my eyes. When I open them, his face is somber.

“It can never get to that point, Julien.
Never
.”

Soren’s place is just as ostentatious as I expect. I step over the threshold into one of the most beautiful homes I’ve ever been in. The opulence overwhelms me. White marble floors and walls, pink sandstone tiles on the floor, a huge crystal chandelier in the foyer. Art from every era hanging on the walls.

I stand in the entrance and my heart rate increases as I see all the vampires standing around in their finery, beautiful women draped over them. I’m afraid to look around too closely in case I see Michel. Beside me, Julien slips his arm around my waist and pulls me closer.

A servant comes to us and takes our coats, while another one escorts us into a large room with several seating areas set up where couples stand and sit, drinking champagne and eating canapés. They’re all beautiful – vampires and their pets. About ten couples in total. I don’t see Michel or Soren and I take in a deep breath and try to relax.

Julien squeezes my hand. He knows how I feel.

“If at any time you need help, just let me know.”

I squeeze his hand back. “I have to be tough. I made my choice.”

Julien leans down and kisses his bite mark on my neck. “I’ll do everything I can so you don’t regret it.”

We go to a set of wingback chairs by a floor to ceiling arched window. I sit while Julien stands beside me, one hand on my shoulder. I take a big sip of champagne punch from a tall crystal glass a servant offers me. I need the courage.

“Watch how much you drink, Eve,” Julien says. “Remember your lips become even more loose when you’re tipsy.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Personally, I love it when you’re a bit stoned or drunk,” Julien says and squeezes my shoulder. “You’re so funny. So honest. No lies.”

“If I lie, it’s because I have to in order to get through the day.”

“I know.”

It’s then that Soren chooses to make an entrance and what an entrance he makes. He’s wearing all black – a black silk suit with black shirt and tie. His hair is down and almost platinum in the light from the crystal chandeliers. His skin is so pale he looks Albino.

He’s beautiful in a cold feral way. On his arm is a blonde beauty with fair skin and light blue eyes. She’s wearing something that looks right out of Ancient Greece, with diaphanous material that reveals almost everything. She has an ample bosom, full and firm but supple. Even from where I sit, I can see her pubic area and she’s waxed bare. Her eyes are downcast, her face demure despite the voluptuous curves and revealing fabric of what could be called her gown.

It’s then I see Michel. He’s walking behind them a few steps back. The sight of him makes my heart skip a beat, adrenaline coursing through me. He’s so beautiful he takes my breath away.

His hair is long and a bit disheveled, tucked behind his ears, his face vampire-pale. He has on a white linen shirt, which is untucked and hangs over his dark pants. Overtop is a long black jacket to his knee, unbuttoned, with a tab collar and dozens of small covered buttons down his lapel. A large black cross is on a leather strap around his neck.

He looks almost priestly. A vampire priest – Soren's High Priest. His Pope. I suspect that’s the effect he and Soren are going for.

Soren glances around the room and the other vampires all bow to him as if he’s some great lord and their master. His eyes rest on us briefly, and beside me, Julien bows his head. I refuse and don’t avert my eyes as Julien instructed. I hate Soren so much right now, I’m almost choking.

Then Soren turns to Michel and hands the woman to him. The two men exchange her like she’s a possession and she goes to Michel, taking his hand. She’s almost as tall as Michel is in her stiletto heels. It’s then I know she’s this woman that Soren spoke of earlier.
Gabrielle
.

Michel pulls her against him briefly, his mouth bending to her neck, and then he turns his attention back to the room.

The woman –
Gabrielle
– stands beside him, his arm still around her tiny waist, her eyes on his face.

I drink down the rest of my champagne and reach for another one when the servant comes to me.

The party continues and remains uneventful for a while. Classical music plays in the background, and people chat with each other as Soren, Michel and the woman make their way around the room, greeting each guest.

I dread them coming to us. I wish Michel would just stay across the room and not come over. I’m relieved when he does exactly that, stopping at a couch by a window to our left. Gabrielle sits on the floor at his feet. He glances down at her and she tilts her head up and he cups her face with a hand. Then he bends down and kisses her, the kiss long and passionate.

My heart squeezes to see him with another woman, and her acting all submissive, but how can I be upset? Here I am with Julien beside me on the arm of the chair, hovering over me, one of his arms around my shoulder, his hand on my neck touching his bite mark.

I hate this.

I hate Soren for making us do this.

I hate him so much, I want to take a stake and drive it through his black heart. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt so much hatred.

Julien exhales and squeezes my shoulder, releasing something in my brain to calm me. I sigh, the hatred seeping out of me.  It’s replaced by a warmth I’ve never felt before – a deep almost overflowing sense of love and peace. And a touch of lust. Is it from Julien? I only know that once the hatred dissipated, this euphoric sense of warmth replaced it.

“What did you do?”

“I just calmed you. Reduced your anger.”

“I feel so … strange.”

Soren chooses that moment to make his way to us, and I have to fight hard to be angry with him, despite hating him only a moment ago.

“Well, hello beautiful Eve and Julien. The lovely couple.”

“Soren,” Julien says, his voice soft. Soren extends his hand and Julien takes and kisses the ring on his index finger. I can barely work up any hatred at what I see. Instead of making me angry, it amuses me. He’s kissing Soren’s ring?

Then I remember reading in my journal of the other vampires kissing Julien's and Michel’s rings when they killed Luke and took over his territory.

Soren turns to me and smiles, extending his hand. I offer mine in return, surprised that I’m so willing to shake, and of course, he takes the opportunity to kiss my knuckles.

When he releases my hand, I lift my champagne glass to my lips but before I can drink it, he intervenes, pulling my hand away.

“Is that your second glass?” he says, smiling pleasantly while he takes the glass in his hand.

“Yes,” I say, smiling back. “It’s delicious.”

“That’s quite enough for you,” he says. “This is a special blend. I don’t want you too much under its spell or you’ll go to sleep and that is
not
what I have in mind for this night.”

“What
are
you planning?” I say, curious, upset that he’s drugged the champagne but not so much that I feel like insulting him.

“A night of pleasure, dear sweet Eve. I want you warm but not too warm.”

“You’re a monster,” I say, but smile in spite of myself. I try to hate him, but I’m filled with this sense of acceptance. “Did you drug everyone or just me?”

“Some of us don’t need any help enjoying an orgy,” he says. “We can’t control your mind with our powers, Eve, but as Julien learned, we can affect it through drugs. I thought a little MDMA –
Ecstasy
– might soften your hard heart a bit.”

“My heart isn’t hard,” I say.

“
Au contraire, mon petit.
It’s far too hard. I aim to soften it a bit. What happened to you so long ago made you protect your heart.  I intend to break that hard shell you have around it. Seeing Michel happy with Gabrielle will go a long way to that end.”

Even hearing him say that makes my heart squeeze just a bit.

“You’re wrong about me. I love Julien.”

He tilts my chin up. “Your heart is hard, Eve. That's why you're able to break both of their hearts, one after the other. You were able to break Julien’s heart when Michel returned from Pittsburgh, after you made him break his own rules about falling in love with humans. How you play these men against each other… Leading them both on. Even now, you lead poor Julien on, making him think,
hope
, that you’ve chosen him for good. But in his heart he knows that you’ll pick Michel when it comes to it.”

“I never led either on. You staked Julien so Michel would be forced to come to you to save him. Then, you stole Michel, leaving me with Julien. Forcing Michel to make a choice. He came back and I,” I say and stumble.

“You went back to him after sleeping with Julien.”

“I
loved
Michel. I thought I’d never see him again. I was…”

“You want them both – admit it. How could you not? This thing with Julien is just a temporary arrangement.”

“I
picked
Julien.”

“For now,” Soren says. “But enough of this disagreement between us. It’s so not what I had in mind tonight.” He hands the champagne glass back to me. “Perhaps you should drink this after all.”

“I won’t. You’re not going to manipulate me.” I hand the glass to Julien.

“I already have.” Soren turns to Julien and takes his chin in his hand. “Make your lover drink the rest.” He turns back to the room. “Let the games begin!”

Julien hands the glass to me. “Drink up, Eve.”

I take the glass and throw it on the ground.

“Eve,” Julien says and takes my hand. “Just comply tonight. Now is not the time to fight.”

All the good feelings from Soren's drugged champagne seem to dissipate. “You think I’m just going to join some orgy Soren’s arranged?”

He squeezes my hand to calm me down once more.  Then he makes me stand. He sits on the chair and pulls me down onto his lap, draping my arms around his neck.

“Now, kiss me, Eve.”

I do, for the fight is out of me. Besides, he looks so beautiful sitting there, his eyes half closed, his mouth soft, waiting. I kiss him, his mouth so willing. Then I pull away and I lift my eyes, turning to the corner of the room where Michel sits with Gabrielle. She's on her knees beside him and he's stroking her head like she's a prized pet, her adoring eyes on his face while he speaks with Soren. He looks, if not happy, then completely relaxed. From where we sit, I can just make out their conversation, and it's in French, Soren chatting as easily in that language as English. Of course, he's thousands of years old. He must have learned many languages in that time.