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It isn't just his enslavement that she takes delight in, but the complete control she exerts over his life and how much she disrupted it. Here we are, knight and priest, her servants, waiting on her every word. I wonder if all Sires are this imperious. If I were to make a vampire, I wouldn't treat her this way. I would share with her the wonders of immortality, but Marguerite seems only to delight in having power over us, in killing mortals as if they were stockanimal.
For the past two years, she has delighted in controlling Michel and seeing him humiliated. Our only consolation was that we had each other, and indeed, our mutual tragedy has drawn us together more closely than since we were young boys and I took on the role as his protector from ourfather.
The inquisition is in Toulouse to investigate claims of Waldensian witchery, and so the three of us have to be very careful not to raise suspicions. We have enough wealth from our dead father's inheritance to live in elegance. Money for bribes is plentiful and so we relax and enjoy ourselves as much as ispossible.
We take rooms in an inn nestled on the side of the mountains. Night fell several hours earlier, and I've fed and now stand in front of a basin of water, cleaning off the blood from thekill.
I watch Michel with Marguerite. He's sitting on the divan in front of the fire, having freshly bathed and wrapped in a sheet, his chest bare. She sits facing him, equally unclothed, enjoying his attentions as he feeds her sweet dates brought all the way from the HolyLand.
He plucks one after another from a small container and feeds her, kissing her after each morsel, smiling, enjoying himself. I'm not jealous – it's the most peaceful I've seen my brother for a very long time – even before he was turned. I feel no real love for Marguerite. She's beautiful, and she's smart in a feral way, but she's brutal and manipulative. I never know what she's planning next. Whatever it is, she tries to make Michel and I rivals for her affection, but neither of us play into her plans, much to herchagrin.
"These are so good, Michel," Marguerite says. "How sweet of you to get them for me. How thoughtful. Your brother doesn't seem to think of me the way youdo."
I turn to face her, drying my hands on atowel.
"Rest assured, dear Marguerite, that I think of you constantly. You've made it impossible for me to dootherwise."
"Ignore my brother," Michel says and turns her face back to him. "Thoughts can be hidden, if one is strong enough. Only actions matter." He kisses her. "As for these, I purchased them from a vendor in the night market who had just returned from Jerusalem. I'm told they are the very best of their kind. You seem hungry and I'm only too pleased to feed your appetites. All of them." He smiles, and it's a wicked smile I've never seen on his facebefore.
"These are just so sweet. You are so sweet, I can't resist," Marguerite says as she chews on adate.
"You taught me not to resist," Michel replies and kisses Marguerite again. "To love obedience to you in allthings."
"And I'm so glad you no longerresist."
"Oh, I no longer resist any of my inclinations," Michel says, his voice low, husky. "Whether for sex or blood – orvengeance."
She pulls back at that and looks at Michel quizzically. Even I turn to regard my brother. What does he mean by that? Vengeance againstwhom?
"What do you mean, vengeance?" she says, a frown on her prettybrow.
But Michel ignores her. Instead, he pulls Marguerite into his arms and kisses her, a hand tangling in her long fair hair, his kiss silencing her questions. She lets him kiss her and slips her arms around hisneck.
For my part, I pour a glass of wine and decide to go out onto the terrace while they play with each other so I can watch the stars. I'm in no mood to watch them and I'm surprised and a bit saddened that he seems so ready to accept her control, but his happiness is all that matters and Michel truly does finally seem to have accepted his lot. She has finally broken him and it has taken only twoyears.
I lean on the terrace rail, looking out across the valley below. A full moon hangs in the sky and thin wisps of cloud obscure the stars. I turn around and lean against the balcony rail, staring straight up in the other direction, hoping to catch sight of a few stars but the moon's toobright.
When I look back inside the room, I see Michel laying with Marguerite and so I turn back to the stars. It's nothing I haven't seen hundreds of times before. Instead of watching them, I watch the moon rise over thevalley.
When I next turn back to the room, Marguerite appears to be asleep, for her eyes are closed. Michel stands and pulls on a pair of breeches. He turns and sees me on theterrace.
"Come," he says and pulls on the cassock of his vestments. "We don't have long. The potion will last less than anhour."
"Potion? What are you doing?" A jolt of fear races throughme.
"Getting my revenge," Michel says without emotion. "I met a woman in town who claimed to have a potion that could make a witch powerless. Of course, I didn't believe it, but I thought I'd try anyway. I tried it, and Marguerite didn't even notice. Poor dear thought she'd simply drank too much wine. I decided to use it again. This time, I'mprepared."
"What are you planning?" I dress while Michel pulls his white surplice and alb over his head and slips on his boots. He straightens his vestments and runs a hand over his head to smooth hishair.
"The witch will burn, tonight. While you kept her busy last evening, I met with the Inquisitor and arranged for the local sheriff to come and take her away to the square. They're only too happy to have a witch burning as a lesson for the town." He slips on some gloves and then goes to a leather bag by the door. Inside is a long length of chain. It's shiny, and I know it'ssilver.
"Put your gloves on and help me," he says. "This will disable her. I'll have to gag her or she'll try to compel the humans who come too close toher."
I do as I'm told, my mind numb, slipping on my own gloves, and then help Michel tie up her hands and feet with the silver chains. Her skin burns, smoke rising from where the silver touches her bare skin. Whatever the magic is, it's powerful enough to prevent her fromwaking.
"You know this is going to displease her Sire," I say. "From what she's said, Soren's an Ancient. Very old and verypowerful."
Michel shrugs as if he doesn't care. "I've never seen him, so he must not care too much for her. I'm leaving for London once this is done," he says. "Come with me and we'll start new livesthere."
