Ascension (3 page)

"That's blood?" I say, a bit shocked. I'd never seen Michel drink any.

He licks his lips and smiles. I can see his canine teeth briefly and they're bloody.

"Good old AB negative. Universal recipient." He smacks his lips. "I shouldn't drink it because it's so rare, but I have a donor on tap." He examines the empty glass. "I don't really like prepared blood. Has an artificial taste due to the anti-clotting chemicals they put it in and the preservatives. My current preference," he says and leans on the countertop, eyeing me, "is for fresh body-temperature B positive with a slightly Northern
Ireland
flavor, but you take what you can get."

I shiver and make a face, disgusted at the sight of him drinking a glass of blood.

"That was a reference to you, by the way, so don't make a face," he says. "If it keeps me from feeding on you, I'd think you'd be raising a toast to me."

He pours himself some more blood and then shoots it back, making a satisfied sound when he's done as if to irritate me.

"You can tell where my ancestors are from by my blood?"

He smiles. "You drink enough blood, you get to know genotypes. Like good wine."

I push my plate away, leaving the rest of my food unfinished, whatever hunger I had gone. Vasily clucks his tongue and eyes the plate.

"You don't like my cooking?"

"Your cooking's wonderful. I just lost my appetite all of a sudden when I realized I'm food, too."

"We're all food for worms," Vasily says and takes my plate away, scraping the leftovers into a trashbin. He then puts the dishes in a dishwasher and I'm amazed at how domestic he is considering he looks like a Russian Mafioso. "Why don't you play piano," he says, pointing to the Steinway. "Boss said you play. I'd love to hear."

"I'm not in the mood."

He clucks his tongue again. "Boss goes to all this trouble to get it for you and you refuse to play? Maybe you two play duet?"

I turn to Julien. "I saw a violin case. Do you play?"

He shrugs, noncommittal.

"Boss is very good on violin. Plays beautiful Tchaikovsky. Makes old Russian like me cry."

I turn and look at Julien with fresh eyes. He plays violin? I've always thought of him as just a soldier. A knight, maybe, from Occitan nobility, but still a soldier.

I glance at the Steinway. I must admit I'm dying to play it.

"It won't bother you?"

"I'd really like to hear you play," Vasily says. "Boss said you were child prodigy."

"More like child automaton," I say, trying to downplay the prodigy bit because it really means nothing. Child prodigies and normal virtuosos end up at the same point eventually and sometimes, the child prodigies burn out from all the work. Like me.

"Please play," he says. "I never had lessons and have great regret. If you can play, you should. Music has charms," he says and raises his eyebrows, gesturing with his head towards Julien.

I smile at Vasily. He's so sweet, and I'm surprised because it's so at odds with his physical appearance, with his puggish face and short steel-grey brush cut.

I go to the sink and wash my hands first, and go to the Steinway, approaching it like it's a rare animal. It's huge – a concert grand, its ebony exterior shining in the overhead pot light. It must have cost over a hundred grand. I glance through the music on it – it's all mine taken from my apartment. I lay my hands on the keyboard, the keys smooth and cool under my fingertips.

"Any requests?"

Vasily comes over to the piano and stands beside me.

"Play your most favorite piece," he says. "The one that you love the most."

I think for a minute. "I have a new favorite. Chopin. Nocturne in E Minor."

"Why you love?"

"It's Michel's favorite," I say, and glance at Julien. Julien has his back to the room, watching out the windows.

I start to play and glance up to see Julien watching me from the bank of windows, where he stands in the darkness. The piece is very passionate, and I suspect Chopin was struggling with some kind of teenage angst but it just reminds me of how sweet and emotional and passionate Michel is and how he said it made him think of his own heartbreak when he was seventeen. I wonder what pric
e he's p
aying living with Soren.

The piece ends on a more uplifting note than it starts and I look up at Vasily, who's smiling broadly.

"You got a beautiful touch," he says, standing there beside the piano, his hand resting on the ledge as if he were my teacher.

"She does." Julien says, emerging out of the darkness to stand on the other side of the Steinway. I avoid his eyes, and just sit there, running my fingers over the smooth ebony finish of the keyboard. He searches through the sheet music and selects a piece –
Ballade No.1
by Chopin.

"Play this. Michel said he wanted you to practice."

I move it out of the way, replacing it with a new piece I was working on before final exams stopped my practice. A Bach prelude.

"No, this one," he says and puts the Chopin back. "He wanted you to learn to play it through."

 
I can't speak for a moment, a choky feeling in my throat.

"I don't want to play it today."

"Eve," he says. "This isn't about what you want. You said all in to Michel and Michel says you're to obey me as you would him.
I
want." He takes the other music off the stand and replaces it firmly with Chopin. "Think of it as repaying a debt. I did save your life."

"It's because of you that it's in danger."

"Eve. . . " He turns and frowns at me. "You're really pushing me. Vasily was Michel's servant and now he's mine. Even he would never deny me a request and he's a cold-hearted killer. Hey, Vasily!"

Vasily pokes his head around the office divider. "Yes, Boss?"

"Would you ever tell me no if I told you to do something?"

"Never, Boss, unless I wanted to push up daisies."

"Should Eve play the Chopin when I ask her?"

"She should play."

"See?" he says and turns back to me. "Even Vasily's obedient to me. Now, play the piece."

I sit with my hands in my lap. "You can force people to obey. You can't force them to like it."

"Some people actually like to obey orders. It makes them all
breathless
…" He waves at the keyboard and says nothing more, waiting. His reference to dominance and submission and how it appeals to me sexually only further upsets me. "Play," he says and waves me on. "No excuses."

"I'll play more if you play something for me."

Julien frowns. "That's not how this chain of command works Eve. I'm the one who gives the orders. You're the one who obeys."

"Please?" I say, smiling sweetly. "I want to hear you play the piece that made Vasily cry."

Julien shakes his head, smiling back, exhaling in exasperation. Finally, gives in and picks up the violin case. He removes the bow and adjusts it, then he takes out the violin and spends a few moments preparing, tuning the instrument, warming up.

"What will you play?"

He runs the bow over the strings a few times, the instrument resting against his chin and shoulder, his head tilted, his eyes closed.

"Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto, the Canzonetta Andante in G Minor."

Then he starts to play the theme from the concerto's second movement and he plays so beautifully, the violin's voice so sweet and sad. The piece is familiar – I spent most of my early life in and out of concert halls listening to classical music and he plays very well for an amateur. Very well, and I remember what Michel said about centuries of practice.

I look over at Vasily and see his eyes moist and that brings tears to my own eyes.

As Julien plays, his eyes remain closed, his face impassive as if every ounce of emotion goes into his playing. I wipe my eyes quickly, not wanting him to see my tears. I'm taken aback that he plays, and that he plays so well. He seems like someone with no depth, crass, superficial. Like the world is a big joke and everything in it just toys for his amusement. He finishes and puts the violin down. He turns to me, his face guarded.

"There. Now you play. Don't get used to putting conditions on me or you'll be disappointed. I'm not into obedience."

"That was beautiful," I say, my voice a bit too emotional but he makes no response except to motion to the piano.

I sigh and play the Chopin Ballade but I struggle, paying close attention to each note. I manage to play the first section, and the slow beautiful section, which moves my heart so much, but falter at the coda as usual.

When I'm done, Julien collects up all my music except the Ballade and takes it with him to the office. When he returns, he sits down on the bench beside me. "From now on, the only piece you're allowed to play is this. I don't care if you snivel like a baby while you're doing it. Now," he says and takes my hands, places them on the keyboard. "Play that again. The part you still fuck up." He waits, motioning for me to begin when I hesitate. "Chop chop."

I'm so – frustrated. I want to throw something at him.

"Vasily, she's not playing."

"She should be playing, Boss," Vasily yells from the office.

"She isn't. I don't think she has this obedience thing down yet. I'm planning on spanking her little bottom like the bad girl that she is for leaving the coffee shop yesterday without permission and for getting captured," Julien says, that lopsided smirk starting. "Should I spank her twice now?"

"Boss," Vasily says, humor in his voice. "You'll do what you want of course. Who am I to say no? But she did have a very bad day yesterday and is very sad. It might not be good idea to spank her today. Maybe on Tuesday."

I can't stop myself. I cover my eyes and smile, hating him for making me do it.

"Oh, now she's smiling, Vasily," Julien says, his voice playful like the old Julien I remember. "I don't think she believes that I'll spank her on Tuesday."

"She'd be wrong, Boss. If you say you will, you will."

I play the piece again, just to stop him from teasing me. It isn't so bad once I focus. I bite my lip and concentrate, paying close attention, trying to get my fingering just right during the most difficult section. I come to the part that gives me trouble and play slowly, starting and stopping to get it right.

"That's as good as it gets without a lot more work."

"Then work."

I start over, not really upset, for I do love the piece.

"What are you?" I say. "The phantom of the opera?"

He laughs and leaves me at the piano, going to the entrance, then starts carrying in boxes, depositing them in a space by the sitting area. I stop playing and go over to check when I recognize one of my chests. I look inside the boxes – they're from my apartment.

"What are you doing?" He keeps carrying boxes in, ignoring me. "Why are you doing this? That's from my apartment."

"You're not safe there any longer. You'll have to live here now."

"Do you think you might have talked to me about this first?" I grind my nails into my palms. " I have rights. You can't just move me in."

He stops and puts a box down.

"I just did." He stands in front of me. "Eve, you're living in a dream world. Wake up." He snaps his fingers in front of my face. "This is the real world, not the one you wish it would be. People make other people do things against their will all the time. Why," he says, cocking his head to the side. "Weren't you all tied up in Luke's warehouse just yesterday?" He brushes hair off my cheek. "Now go back and play. I like listening while I work."

I close my eyes, trying to control my anger.

"Vasily, she's not obeying me again," he says, his voice all mock-angry. "Do I have to wait until Tuesday?"

"One day has gone since she hurt her head. You might be able on Monday."

I turn on my heels and go back to the piano without another word. I don't want to listen to anymore of Julien and Vasily's teasing repartee. I'm a pre-med student, blood witness with the SCU, dammit. I'm an adult. He's turning me into a dependent.

Of course - I realize it as I start to play Ballade once more. That's his goal. Total control. Me as his prized Adept, the one promised to him when I was just a child, helping him police the treaty. This is what he always wanted. I sigh and decide that I'll comply without saying a word – as if it doesn't matter to me one way or the other.

If I'm going to handle Julien, I'll have to stop letting my emotions get the better of me.

CHAPTER 3

“Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back.

Those who wish to sing always find a song.”

Plato

The next day, I go back to the SCU. Julien accompanies me and there’s an awkward silence in the car as Vasily drives us over. Julien spends time in the office with Ed while I sit at my little desk by the corner and check over the case file, reviewing the tests that have come back from forensics.

About an hour later, Ed comes out and motions for me to join him.

"I want you to get right back in the saddle again," Ed says as we enter the
break
room to get a cup of coffee. As Ed picks through the donuts in an open box, he explains. "I thought we might do some biochemical analysis of the vampire blood we have on file. You'll have
samples from every vampire in
the facility for the last few years. There are tests I want run that we don't have facilities for here."

"Whatever you want. What are you looking for?"

"We're looking for novel proteins, amino acids, seeing if there are any biochemical pathways that might be responsible for vampirism. All this work has been done, but we don’t have access to it. It’s military. It was mentioned in some of your mother's work. Fill out the requisitions and I'll sign them. The more basic research we do, the bigger our grants."

"It sounds exciting."

"There's nothing new on the case, so you might as well try to get some of your mother's work replicated."

Ed pours us coffee and we go to a small table by the window.

"Why don't you take a trip to the lab in
Virginia
, see if you can work with one of the Council researchers there? You can cut a lot of corners if you have contacts in the labs. Add a flight and hotel onto that requisition. It'll do you good to get out of
Boston
for a few days."

I'm not sure I really wanted to go to Virginia, but if it ensures I'm able to work on my mother's research, I'll put extra food in my cats' dishes and pack my bags once more.

"I hear you’re going to
Virginia
,” Julien says when he joins me at my desk a little while later.

"To the regional lab in
Norfolk
," I say, pleased to be doing something real. "There are special tests that can be done there. Ed wants me to meet the Council researcher, start working on my mother's research."

"I don't like it but if Ed wants it, OK." Julien shrugs. "I'll send Vasily with you. I have work to do here and can't go."

Vasily accompanies me on the trip, sitting a few rows over on the plane. I'd like him to sit with me, because he's really sweet and I need someone to make me feel safe, but he says no. It's best for us to be separate for security reasons. I make it through the short flight fine because I'm reading a file Terri gave me that describes the work we'll be doing and it's exciting and way beyond my pay grade, because although I've taken immunology and molecular genetics in my junior year at Boston U, I'm not qualified to work in a real lab.

We get rooms at the Sheraton on Waterside, Vasily next to mine, and I'm surprised Julien let me come here, considering how worried Michel was when I went to
Montana
. Maybe he feels safer now that he has a deal with Soren. Whatever, it makes me feel somewhat like an adult to be staying by myself.

The Sheraton is close enough to the Virginia Department of Forensic Sciences lab that I can walk if I want to get some exercise, which I do, Vasily trailing behind me in a rental car. I walk, enjoying the smell of the fresh salt air. Gulls wheel in the sky, diving in sequence to pick up bits of my morning bagel as I throw them into the air. In the distance is a large Navy aircraft carrier. I'd like to take a tour of the museum if I have the time.

I sign in at reception and wait for my contact to come and meet me at the security desk.

In about five minutes, a bespectacled man in his early thirties comes out to meet me. Dr. Graydon, head of Biochemistry. He extends a hand and I take it, trying to match the strength and warmth of it.

"Agent Hayden – so nice to meet you. Agent O'Neil sent me an email introducing you and putting a good word in. He and the department head are old friends from college." He wags his brows as if that's a hint that his boss is in the Council as well.

We walk down the hallways leading from the security desk to the administration offices at the north side of the building.

"I'll take you to the lab later, but first I wanted to introduce you to a few of the crew. Insiders."

I smile and shake about a half-dozen hands and am able to make it through the preliminaries. Finally, Graydon takes me through to the lab facilities and we sit down to discuss the work we want done. His office is small and filled with bookshelves, his desk littered with journal articles.

While we're working, I think about Julien's daywalking ability and decide to broach the subject to Graydon.

"Do you know of any research conducted by the military on immune system enhancement in vampirism?" I ask.

Graydon raises his eyebrows and pulls out an address book.

"Immunity? I do toxicology. But I used to study with someone who worked at the Pentagon for a term. She's a civilian researcher now on contract to the Council and might have some idea who you could talk to. I'll give you her name. Don't know if it would be any help, but you could try. Just mention my name and that might break the ice with her."

"Thanks." I take the card on which he's written her name and phone number.

The rest of the morning goes quickly, and after a lunch at a local fish and chips joint with a couple of the researchers, we spend the afternoon processing the shipment of blood samples from the Council prison facilities, filling out lab requisitions, doing various bureaucratic paperwork necessary to get the tests done. This is all new to me, who has only been in university labs and so I'm completely curious and engrossed in the work.

The afternoon flies by and when we're through for the day, I turn down an offer of a ride, preferring to walk back along the waterfront to catch the sunset. I don't see Vasily trailing behind me, but maybe he's farther back, not wanting to bother me.

This is the life I imagined when starting my science degree – doing research, learning more about vampirism, hoping one day to help eradicate the disease that killed so many innocent people over the millennia. The sun finally sets and the reproduction gaslight lamps flicker on, lighting the walkway that skirts the wharf and leads back to Waterside and my hotel. A couple passes me on a stroll, their heads together, laughing over some shared joke.

Seeing them makes my gut knot just a bit, for the only male attention I've received in several years is that of a pair of vampire-killing vampires, neither one of which has any intention of having a normal relationship with me.

What kind of freak am I?

I look up as a man passes. He grabs my arm and shock washes over me as I realize it's Julien. He's dressed in a dark trench, a fedora and scarf.

"Didn't Michel tell you not to walk alone after dark?" he says, his voice rough.

I pull my arm away, anger filling me.

"Are you never going to let me just be?" I struggle with him for a moment, hitting his hand with my fist. "Are you brothers always going to sneak up on me, scare the shit out of me?"

"Hey-hey-hey!" he laughs, easily maintaining his grip. "Take it easy." He manages to pull me closer.

A man walking down the boardwalk calls out from a distance.

"Are you OK, lady?"

I glance up at Julien's face to see the amusement is gone and now, his eyes are hooded. He speaks in a quiet voice, his tone flat. "It's dark out here and I have a switchblade in my pocket and could have him down in three seconds. Do you want this man to pay for your indiscretion?"

I get hold of myself, realize that I'm causing too much of a scene, that he very well could kill whoever comes upon the two of us. Kill me as well for that matter, because he has my hand in his.

"I'm fine," I call to the man, a forced smile on my face. "We're just playing."

"That's a girl," Julien says, putting his arms around me, pulling me closer. "Comply."

The man hesitates, but then moves on. "If you say so."

I stand with Julien's arms around me for a moment until the man's gone and then I try to pull away.

"No, I like this," he says, his voice soft. "Just relax for a minute."

I give up and just stand there as he buries his nose in my hair and neck, inhaling deeply. I'm shaking just a bit, my knees feeling like rubber from the adrenaline. I'm so frustrated that I can't get any time to myself without him intruding, reminding me that he's a killer. I realize that I'm still afraid of him, despite everything – the violin, him feeding me his blood, him biting me to protect me. He's still a vampire and could kill me if he wanted.

"Oh, come on, Eve." Julien pulls back. "You mean to tell me you're still afraid of me?"

I say nothing, just cover my face with my hands, not wanting to meet his eyes for mine are wet and I bite my cheek.

"Get a hold of yourself. Tears don't work on me. I'm a battle-hardened soldier." He reaches in a pocket and hands me a tissue.

I can't reply, just stand there mortified at my inability to gain control. He and his brother are ruining my fucking life. I wipe my nose and eyes with the tissue and then glance around at the setting, anything to keep from looking at him.

"There," he says. "Better now? Enough sniveling. I hate sniveling."

"I hate you."

He grins at that and laughs out loud. Then he casually takes my arm and gently escorts me towards my hotel.

"Ahhh," he says, amusement back in his voice. "No you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"No you
don't
," he says and there's just a hint of darkness in his voice. "Tell the truth, Eve. You hate that I have control and that you don't. You don't hate me. You hate the fact that I can do whatever I want and you can't."

We walk along for a moment in silence, him holding my arm, me trying to stay as far away from him as possible.

"I don't blame you," he says. "I'd hate to be in that position. I'd like to say I sympathize, but I don't, do I? I mean, vampires can't sympathize, can we? You're just prey animals to us, food, a means to an end, sources of pleasure – toys. I'm just damn glad we're not weak and afraid and helpless like ordinary humans are."

"Have you never felt weak and afraid and helpless?"

"Oh, yes." The hotel is about a block away and I'm beginning to wonder if he'll expect to be invited into my room.

"When?"

"When I was a boy. I determined I'd never be in that position again."

"I wasn't afraid and helpless and weak until you and Michel came along. I was doing just fine."

"Eve," he says and clucks his tongue. "Remember, I've read you."

Heat rises to my cheeks. He squeezes my arm. I tug it away, but it's futile.

"You enjoy this, don't you?"

"What – fighting with you? Oh, yes. It's going to make your inevitable surrender so much sweeter."

"Don't count on it." It enrages me that he's so certain I will.

He just grins. We reach the walkway leading to the front entrance of my hotel. He stops and a sense of relief washes over me. He isn't going to come in.

"You go on in. I'll be up in about five minutes. Then we can talk."

"I won't let you in."

"You will."

"I won't."

He takes my arm, squeezes it just hard enough to make his point.

"Look, Eve," he says, his voice harsh, "Do I have to use force to remind you what I am?"

I look away.

"You go on up," he says and takes off his hat. "I have to sign in and get a key to my own room."

"How come you're here? I thought you had work to do."

"I rearranged things. I thought it would be good for us to get away by ourselves. Just the two of us. Well, there's Vasily, but he's pretty good at keeping his distance when appropriate."

"We don't need to get away by ourselves," I say. "I live in your warehouse, in case you forgot."

"You are so saucy." He turns me around, standing behind me, and bends down, his lips at my ear. "I love saucy, Eve, so keep it up." He opens the door for me. "Now, be a good girl and go to your room."

Once inside I see Vasily sitting on the plush furniture, reading a local newspaper. He stands when I walk by.

"Eve," he says, frowning. "You should have waited for me. Now we are both in the shit from Julien."

I shrug. "What's new?"

Once upstairs, I pace my room. When the knock on my door comes, I don't answer.