Seer: Thrall (15 page)

"I do. You're willing to tease me, but we don't fight. If I start weaning you, you're going to be crabby. You're going to scream at me a lot. It's going to be hard on both of us, and it's going to all feed into that wedge. It's going to make everything else harder."

That was the nature of beating addiction. She didn't need me to point that out.

"I don't want the wedge bigger. I want it gone, Sidney."

I looked away. I did, too, but I wasn't willing to admit it or I might be forced to admit culpability in maintaining it. I nodded instead. "There's more though, isn't there?"

"Yes." She grew silent, and I wondered if she was going to tell me. I finally turned to face her directly. "I like knowing you're dependent on me, Sidney. I like everything about you drinking from me. Every little bit. I'm not proud of that." She paused, licking her lips, then said, "And when you're drinking, you let me call you 'mine'."

I nodded more understanding. I wasn't going to condemn her for it.

"Have you decided?" I asked instead.

"I told you it was your decision."

I considered everything, then I looked at Millie. "Could you step outside for only a minute or two?"

"Of course."

We both watched her leave.

"Does she know about the war?" I asked.

"No."

"The only thing that matters is stopping the war. We're not even doing anything about it."

"I told you, don't worry about that."

"Yes, Solange. But I have a point. What helps us stop the war?"

"You deserve a life, Sidney."

"What helps us stop the war, Solange?"

"If you and I are not fighting."

"You have your answer then, don't you?"

She nodded.

"We keep going the way we are," she said. She looked guilty about it.

"Yep." I smiled. I leaned back in the sun deck chair and smiled. "This is the life. I could get used to being kept."

"That's the blood talking, Sidney."

"I haven't had any today."

"It's the blood talking."

"No. It's the pragmatist talking. Solange, do you trust me with the rest of my friends?"

"Of course."

"Then can we host the card party this weekend?"

"Unless you have a great deal of luck, you're going to win the booby prize."

"That's all right," I said. "Do you trust me off the property without you?"

She paused before answering.

"If you don't, I understand." It would hurt, but I was actually expecting her to say 'no'.

"What did you have in mind?"

"I think I'm low on prizes. And I need to rewrap the ones I still have, as my cryptic little post it notes are no longer successfully reminding me what the presents are. I need less cryptic notes."

"I can take you. I don't want you driving."

"I was going to ask Dolores, but if you don't want me wandering off without a keeper, I understand."

She looked away, not answering.

"It's fine, Solange," I said. "Honest." Well, not entirely honest, but what else could I say?

"No, Sidney." She turned back. "I would enjoy going with you, but if you would rather go with Dolores, that's fine." She paused. "You don't need my permission for these things, but I do want you to tell me."

I smiled. "Are you sure?"

"No, but we're going with that plan, anyway."

"I figured, well... you haven't let me near a computer at all, and you're always there if I'm using a phone."

"I'll return both this afternoon," she declared.

"Thank you. We should tell Millie what you've decided."

"We decided," Solange corrected. "We'll continue as we have and address periodically."

I immediately recognized a real dream. I didn't recognize any of the participants. I was at a slumber party of a group of high school girls. They were lounging around in their pajamas, piled in groups on the floor, propped up with pillows. A movie was on, and I watched a few wishful sighs.

"I'd let Edward bite my neck," one of the girls said with another dramatic sigh.

"Not me," said another. "If any vampire is biting me, it's Alice."

"You are so gay!" two of the other girls said at once.

The girl smiled. "That's why you love me."

"You can all have the vamps," yet another girl said. "Jacob now..."

"Oh, I'd let Taylor Lautner do me," several of the girls agreed together.

The conversation went on as the dream, most thankfully, faded away.

"Vampires don't sparkle!" I wanted to yell at them.

But the dream didn't end. Instead, it shifted. I saw scene after scene, all quite similar to the first, of various people expressing pleasure, in one form or another, at the idea of meeting a vampire, many of them looking to be bitten. Many of them were young girls with a crush on Edward Cullen, but I saw others, male and female of a wide range of ages, expressing their own pleasure at Angel or Spike from Buffy; Stephan or Daman Salvatore, Elena Gilbert, or Anna from The Vampire Diaries; Barnabas Collins; Bill Compton; and even someone called Saint Germaine.

"I got it already," I said to my dream. "People are vampire crazy."

The dream shifted again. I saw Solange's house, first as an aerial view, then swooping down. I saw Thomas talking to Solange. I saw the cook and the other human members of the household. They all knew what Solange was. They were all loyal to her anyway.

I didn't see myself.

I saw other scenes. I watched as a man knelt in front of a woman. The lighting was dim, and I could see little of the room, but she was seated on something that almost resembled a throne. "Your offerings await, Your Majesty," the man said.

"Very good," the woman said. She stood, and I watched as she preceded the man from the room, traveling down a corridor of stone walls before stepping into another room. Six women waited, and as soon as they saw her, they all dropped to their knees, bowing their heads.

The woman stepped forward, lifting the chin of each of the women to look into their faces, one at a time.

"You are all lovely," the woman declared when she was done. "I accept you into my household."

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" they intoned together, and their joy was palpable.

"I will take this one tonight," the woman went on. She stepped forward and took the hand of the fourth in line, pulling the woman to her feet. "Come."

I watched the two of them travel through the stone corridors again, coming to another room. Together, we entered a bedroom. The queen held the door for the woman, who stepped past her, smiling as she did so. She closed the door, then stepped up to the woman, now waiting for her.

"Do not be frightened," the queen said.

"I am not, Your Majesty," the woman said.

"What are you called?"

"I am Piper."

"Well, Piper," said the queen, "when we are alone like this, please call me Caterina."

Piper smiled and nodded. Caterina drew closer, caressing Piper. Piper stood very still, accepting the attention, her hands remaining by her side.

"Are you here of your own free will, Piper?"

"I am, Your Majesty."

Caterina frowned, dropping her hand from Piper's cheek. "You reject the use of my name?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" The woman would have fallen to her knees, but Caterina caught her by her elbows.

"No," she said. "Please say my name."

"Caterina," the woman replied. "It's a beautiful name."

"Thank you. It is not as beautiful as you." She stroked Piper again. "This is your first time, and so we must make it special. Do you require refreshment?"

"No, Caterina." She looked down. "I hope I please you."

"I'm sure you will," Caterina replied. She took Piper's hands and drew her to the large, ornate bed. Piper followed willingly but eyed the bed carefully. "Does my bed frighten you?"

"I am afraid I might..."

"Yes?"

"Spill."

Caterina smiled. "Do not worry. You will not spill. Would you be more comfortable elsewhere?"

"No. This is lovely." She turned back to Caterina. "Do we kiss?"

"Do you want to kiss?"

"I think I would." The two moved together. Piper was taller than Caterina, and she had to lower her head for the shorter woman, but it was clear that Caterina was entirely in control of the kiss, along with everything else.

I felt myself respond, watching their passion ignite. Piper clutched at Caterina, moaning into the kiss, and her need was clear.

Maintaining the kiss, Caterina drew Piper to the bed, moving backwards on it, drawing the woman onto the bed. She turned, sitting upright amongst the pillows, then pulled the woman against her, breaking the kiss.

She began to unbutton the woman's blouse, letting it fall open. She caressed the exposed skin, and Piper shuddered under the touch.

"What do I do?"

"Enjoy," Caterina replied. "There is a brief moment of pain, but it is only a prelude to pleasure you've never experienced before."

"They explained," Piper said.

"I need to hear you offer yourself."

"My body is yours, Caterina. My blood is yours." She lifted her head, exposing her neck, and moments later, there was a flash of fang.

The scene shifted.

My heart immediately began to pound. The scene was familiar. Aubree was walking down a dark street, and I knew she was being followed. I knew there were more men lying in wait for her.

The scene shifted, and I saw two of the men following Aubree, and then the two waiting for her.

And then I saw Solange. She was watching one of the men, one that was waiting. She made a noise, and he spun.

He was fast, far faster than my eyes could watch. He pulled a gun and began firing, the gun making quiet little splat sounds instead of loud gunshots. I wondered if it were silenced or fired something other than bullets.

But Solange wasn't there. Instead, there was a whoosh, and she was beside the man. She reached out with one hand, clasping his as it held the gun, and she squeezed. The man grunted as Solange ripped the gun from his hand. I knew she'd broken the fingers while she'd done it.

He didn't let it stop him. He pulled a knife and slashed at her, but she blocked it then spun around behind him, pulling his hand with the knife up to his throat.

He gurgled. "Fucking vampire!"

"Aubree never hurt you. Aubree never hurt anyone. How dare you threaten her? She. Is. MINE!" And then Solange ran the large knife across the man's throat, nearly ripping his entire neck off in the process. She dropped him and was gone before his knees hit the pavement.

The second man's fate was different only in the smaller of details.

And then Solange was at Aubree's side. "I evened the odds. It is you they are hunting. Your choice on the last two."

"I already tangled with one of them. They're too good for me."

"Do you want them dead or bagged?"

"I don't want you hurt."

Solange smiled.

"Bag 'em," Aubree added.

Solange nodded and then disappeared. The scene shifted, and I watched her move up behind one of the men. She had a syringe in her hand. From behind, she thrust it into his neck and pressed the plunger, then was gone before he could react. The scene shifted, and I saw her do the same to the last of the men.

After that, the scene shifted back and forth as both men fell to the ground. Moments later, Solange was dragging all of the bodies into a pile, and she wasn't kind about it. All the men had knives, and she used one of the knives to rip through the clothing the men were wearing, rendering two corpses and two drugged men entirely naked.

"The van is coming," she said as Aubree stepped up. "Call Doyle and tell him exactly where we are."

Solange began trussing two of the bodies. She ignored the other two.

The dream shifted.

This scene was similar, but different. The streets were dark, narrow, twisty. I saw a man being pursued, and I saw the followers, barely visible in the dark of the night.

The man knew he was being pursued, and his fear was palpable. Somehow I knew he was a vampire. Why didn't he escape? Why didn't he run away?

There were six men this time, and they herded him, they cornered him in a dark alley, the far end blocked by a wall.

The man turned and threw himself at the hunters, but weapons spat. The man was struck over and over, five, ten, twenty times, and I saw small darts sprouting from his body. Still, he got to one of the men, grabbing him by the neck. Fangs flashed, and he ripped out the man's throat.

But his moves became sluggish, and then he dropped to his knees.

The other men moved in. I saw silver batons come out, and they surrounded him and began striking him, began striking him until the man lay curled into a ball on the filthy bricks.

They bound him, tightly bound him.

The scene shifted, and I saw the same man, now bound against a wall, his arms and legs splayed away from him by steel chains. Bands of steel circled his throat, his chest, and his waist.

Two of the men were watching. One pulled on a pair of gloves. He stepped up to the captive, eyes wide, fangs flashing. The captive struggled, but the man inserted an I.V. needle into an arm, taping it tightly in place. A moment later, dark blood began to flow.

"Wake up now!" I said. "Wake up now! Oh please, let me wake up!"

But the dream shifted. There was a conference room. Around the table were five men and three women. One of the men and one woman were older; the rest were freshly scrubbed. In front of each of the younger people was a folder. It was labeled, "Top Secret" across the front.

It was the older woman who stood up. She gave a speech about what "Top Secret" implied and the repercussions of breaking the vow of silence. "Leave if you cannot live with those restrictions."

No one left.

"Break the seal on your folders. Withdraw the top sheet, sign it, and pass it down to Mortensen." She waited for them. Once the older man had the signed papers, the woman continued.

"Vampires, werewolves, and any other manner of paranormal creature are real. In the course of your duties, you will eventually encounter one. You may even end up working with one; the agency has a few vampires on the payroll. Some of them are even willing. These packets cover everything you need to know about them except this: we leave them alone. If you encounter one in the course of your duties, you report it to me, and you leave it alone." She stressed those last words. "The vamps are everywhere, and the werewolves are even more numerous. We exist in a situation of détente with them. You do not go after them as part of your official duties. You do not pursue a private vendetta against them. You do not report their existence to press, the politicians, or your lovers. You shut the fuck up."

She paused.

"Open the folder and take out the first picture."

I got a good look. It could have been a picture of Solange's blood bank.

"This is what happens to you if you cross the vampires."

The agents -- I thought perhaps these were CIA agents -- stared at the photos, then schooled their features.

"They may be monsters, but most of them like it quiet. They tend to police their neighborhoods. If you want to find a vampire, look for a neighborhood the drug dealers won't touch. Look for neighborhoods the gangs avoid. Long for the quietest neighborhoods you can find. And I almost guarantee, there's a vampire at the center of it, keeping things quiet."

She looked around.

"We leave them alone. If I hear of any violations of that policy, I will hand you over to them myself."

The dream shifted. I was in my bedroom, watching myself. I lay against Solange, cradled in her arms. I held Solange's wrist against my mouth, and I watched myself sucking greedily.

Solange's lips were near my ear. Her fangs were out, and she was practically caressing my ear with them.

"Yes, Sidney," she crooned into my ear. "Drink. It will make you strong. Drink."

I watched as my gaze became distant. I whimpered, and I knew the wound had healed. My eyes closed, and I dropped Solange's wrist.

"Good, Sidney," she crooned. "Sleep now."

And I knew I slept. But then the vampire's eyes lifted to where I was standing in the dream. She smiled. "Please forgive me. I'm doing the best I am able."

I couldn't tell if she was speaking to the me that slept in her arms, or me that watched her in my dream.

* * * *

It was just barely daylight when I woke. I lay on my side, blinking. I lay on my side, thinking.