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Authors: Amanda Ashley

BOOK: Bound by Night
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Chapter 34
 
November turned to December, bringing a flurry of snow that quickly covered the ground and clothed the trees in gowns of white. In spite of the fireplaces and heaters in every room, the castle was chilly. Elena spent most of her time in the main hall, curled up on the sofa in front of the hearth, sometimes reading, sometimes napping.
Strangely, Drake, in his cat persona, had returned. He spent his days sitting beside her, or stretched out along the back of the sofa, sleeping. She was glad for the company.
She had asked Drake about the return of the cat the first time it appeared. He had said only that he missed her during the day and wanted to be near her. She suspected it was more than that. Her uncle was still out there, somewhere, and even though Drake claimed not to be worried, she knew he was.
Drake appeared late one afternoon, when the sky had turned dark and overcast. “This will be our first Christmas together,” he said, helping her into a heavy winter coat. “I thought we should have a tree.”
Excited at the idea, Elena pulled on a pair of fur-lined boots and gloves, put on a fur-lined hat, and followed him outside, where he picked up an ax and laid it on his shoulder. “Ready?”
“Ready,” she said.
She followed him down a path he had cleared earlier to the edge of the forest.
“Which one do you like?” he asked.
She glanced from tree to tree. “That one,” she said, pointing. “But how will you ever carry it into the house?” she asked, and then grinned sheepishly. To a vampire, carrying a ten-foot tree was akin to a mortal carrying one-half that size.
It took only a few strokes of the blade to bring the tree crashing down.
Returning home, he shook the snow from the branches, then carried the tree into the main hall. “Where do you want it?”
“There,” she said, pointing to the far corner of the room.
He quickly built a stand and nailed it to the base of the tree.
“We don’t have any ornaments,” Elena said. “Or lights.”
“We’ll take care of that tomorrow night,” he said. “For now, you need to get warmed up.”
“I’m fine.”
“Of course you are.” Even as he was speaking, he was helping her out of her coat, boots, and hat, settling her on the sofa, covering her with the afghan she had made, bringing her a cup of hot tea.
Elena smiled up at him, thinking he was the most wonderful, sweet, caring man in the whole world.
She was about to tell him so when she sensed a familiar ripple in the air. Moments later, Andrei materialized in the room.
Elena’s smile of welcome faded when she saw the expression on his face. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
“The baby was born tonight,” Andrei said, his voice flat.
He didn’t have to say anything else. She saw the sorrow in his face, the pain in his eyes.
“He came too early, and lived only a few minutes. Just long enough”—Andrei swallowed hard—“long enough for me to hold him.”
“How is Katiya?” Drake asked.
“For a time, I thought I would lose her, too. But she will be all right.”
“Andrei, I’m so sorry,” Elena murmured. “Is there anything we can do?”
“No.” He sank down on the edge of the sofa beside Elena, his head cradled in his hands. “Her mother sent me away, told me Katiya needed to rest. I wandered around outside the Fortress and then”—he shrugged—“I found myself here. We were happy here.”
Feeling helpless, Elena looked up at Drake, who was standing near the hearth.
What can we do?
He shook his head.
He needs time.
“I should go back,” Andrei said. “I just thought you should know.”
Biting down on her lower lip, Elena slid her arm around Andrei’s shoulders. To her surprise, he turned into her embrace, his arms going around her waist. He held on tight, his body shaking uncontrollably as sobs racked his body.
“She’ll be all right,” Elena said, patting his back. “She’s young and strong. And she loves you.”
Andrei took a deep breath, then drew back. “Forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive.”
Andrei rose heavily to his feet. “I must go back.”
“You may stay, if you wish,” Drake said.
Andrei shook his head. “Katiya will be missing me.”
“How are things at the Fortress otherwise?” Drake asked.
“All is well. Your plan to free the sheep was a good one. The transition has gone smoothly. I must go.” He bowed in Elena’s direction, and then he was gone.
“Poor Andrei,” Elena murmured.
Drake nodded. He had never fully understood Stefan’s pain, he thought, perhaps because he, himself, had never been in love, never lost anyone he cared for, but he understood it clearly now. He had seen Stefan’s pain reflected in Andrei’s eyes.
Needing to hold Elena, he sat beside her and drew her into his arms as he faced the very real possibility that he could lose Elena, and the baby, too.
 
 
Later, lying in the dark in Drake’s arms, fears about her baby, about the birth itself, rose in Elena’s mind. Katiya had been young and healthy, in her prime for bearing a child. If Katiya could not conceive and carry a vampire child, what chance did a mortal woman have? Elena placed her hand over her womb. Would her baby be born too early, as well? Take a few breaths, then slip away, its life over before it had even begun? And what of her own life? Andrei said they had almost lost Katiya. If a vampire, who had the strength of twenty and was nearly invincible, was at risk, how much more so was she?
“Elena, you must not worry.”
He was reading her mind again, but she didn’t care. She hadn’t wanted to worry him with her fears, but now that they were out in the open, she needed to talk about it, needed his reassurance.
“Do not be afraid for our little girl,” he murmured, stroking Elena’s hair. “She will survive. I can hear her heart beating, strong and steady.”
Elena nodded.
“She already knows your voice,” he said. “Whenever you speak, her heartbeat speeds up a little. I know she is eager to see your face, to be in your arms.”
His words brought tears to Elena’s eyes. True or not, it was what she needed to hear. Content to be in his arms, she closed her eyes. How blessed she was, to have Drake in her life. What more could she ask than to spend the rest of her life with this incredible man?
What more, indeed, but a life as long as his. She stirred restlessly. She would not think of that now. She was still young. Old age was far in the future, yet she grew older every day. She had rarely given much thought to death. It was, after all, a fact of life. Unless you were a vampire. Tears stung her eyes. The day would come when her youth would be gone, and her health with it. What would become of them then?
“What troubles you now, wife?”
“Nothing,” she lied.
Sitting up, he used the pads of his thumbs to wipe the tears from her eyes. “Since when does nothing make you weep?”
“I’m pregnant,” she said, sniffling. “I’m always weepy these days.”
“I can feel your sadness.” His gaze searched her face. He could see it clearly, even in the dark. “Do I need to read your mind to find out what is bothering you?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Then tell me.”
“What’s going to happen to us when I start to get old and you don’t? Will you still love me then? Will you still want me?”
With a sigh, he turned on the bedside lamp, then drew her up beside him, his arm circling her shoulders. Fool that he was, he had put the future out of his mind, content to live in the present with the woman he loved.
Fighting back her tears, she eased out of his embrace.
“Elena . . .”
She shook her head. “You don’t have to say anything.” Did she really expect him to stay with her, be content to be with her, when she was seventy or eighty and looked it, and he was still a virile male with the face and body of a thirty-year-old?
“It does not have to be like that,” he said quietly. “There are ways . . .”
Eyes widening in horror, she scooted backward. “I don’t want to be a vampire.”
“You cannot become what I am. As I told you before, I was not made a vampire. It is what I am. But there are ways to prolong your life. Your youth. You are young yet. We have years before you need to decide.”
“What ways?” she asked, curiosity mingling with revulsion.
“If you drink from me, it will slow the aging process, so that with the passing of each year, your body will only age one day.”
“How often would I have to drink your blood?”
“Every night for the first year, then every week, then every month, then only once a year for as long as you wish.”
“And when I stop drinking?”
“You will begin to age normally again. But, as I said, you needn’t worry about it now.” Reaching out, he took her back into his arms, aligning her body with his. “Whatever you decide, I will never leave you. Do you understand ? Never. If you choose to live a normal span of years, I will be at your side. The last face you see will be mine, I swear it.”
It was a lot to expect of any man, Elena thought, but Drake was not really a man.
“So, wife, have I set your mind at ease?”
“Yes, I guess so.” The thought of drinking blood was repulsive, but to age only one day for each year she lived . . . The idea was mind-boggling. Could it be true?
“It is a carefully guarded secret,” Drake said. “You must never tell anyone.”
She nodded. If people knew there was a way to live practically forever, they would be hunting vampires relentlessly for their blood. Greedy men would make a fortune selling it. People would kill for it.
“So, no one else—no other human I mean—knows about it?”
“None living.”
“But others have done it?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to them?”
“There have only been five that I know of. One grew weary of living and reverted to being human. Three died in accidents. One was killed when she decided to share her knowledge with the world. When her vampire mate discovered her intent, she was destroyed.”
Elena nodded. “But the blood . . .” She shuddered in revulsion.
“It is a small price to pay for immortality, is it not?”
 
 
Elena thought about what Drake had said the next morning while doing the laundry. What would it be like, to live virtually forever? She had asked Drake a similar question once before. His reply had been that it could be challenging after a few hundred years because, by then, one had seen everything and done everything.
She tossed a load of damp clothes into the dryer, piled another load into the washer, added soap and fabric softener as she considered something else Drake had said when she’d asked him about living so long. He had told her that vampires sometimes buried themselves in the ground. To rest. Buried alive, she thought with a shudder.
Still, it would be nice to be virtually indestructible, she mused. If she was a vampire, she could do all the things she was afraid to do, like scuba diving and skydiving and rock climbing. But she couldn’t become a true vampire. Not that she really wanted to be one, of course.
But living for centuries, that was within her grasp, if she could just overcome her disgust at drinking blood. She sighed. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it was Drake’s blood. . . .
She shook her head. It would still be disgusting, she thought. If she didn’t have to drink it directly from Drake, maybe she could mix it with a little wine to make it more palatable. But, palatable or not, it would be worth it if it meant a longer life with the man she loved.
Going upstairs to the main hall, she opened the door and peered outside. It was snowing again.
She stood at the door a moment, watching the tiny white flakes settle on the trees and the ground. She had been cooped up inside for days. She was wondering if she dared go outside, just for a few minutes, when a movement to her right caught her eye. Before she could register what she was seeing, a hand clamped a rag over her nose and mouth, stifling her startled scream. Her nostrils filled with a sickly sweet smell, and then everything went blank.
Chapter 35
 
Elena awoke, not knowing what had happened or where she was, only that she was cold. A quick glance at her surroundings showed that she was in a wooden shed of some kind. Pale sunlight filtered through a small, dirty window set high in one wall. A chill wind howled outside, rattling the door, creeping through the cracks in the old building, making her shiver.
A shiver born of fear rather than the cold slithered down her spine when she realized her hands were tied behind her, and that the brown lump in the corner was moving, standing.
As Elena’s vision cleared, a scream rose in her throat, but no sound emerged.
Hatred mingled with lust in Tavian Dinescu’s sunken eyes. And then he slapped her. “You little whore,” he said with a sneer, and struck her again, harder this time.
Elena’s head snapped back, her ears ringing from the force of the blows.
She stared up at him, fear turning to raw terror when she looked into his eyes—his crazy mad eyes. He was going to rape her, here and now, she thought. And then he was going to kill her.
“My baby . . . please . . . don’t . . .”
“Shut up!” Grabbing the cuffs of her maternity jeans, he jerked her pants down over her hips, leaving them bunched around her ankles. Her panties followed.
She was sobbing now, alarm for her unborn baby clawing at her mind as Dinescu shoved her down on the floor. Her bound hands dug into her back, but she was hardly aware of the discomfort. She rolled onto her side in a vain effort to crawl away, but it was impossible with her hands tied. Impossible because there was nowhere to go.
She cried out when his fist slammed into her side and then he was flipping her onto her back again, his lips pulled back in a leer. He hit her again, his enjoyment plain on his face as she screamed.
He was going to rape her.
I will have you.
His threat, issued not long ago, echoed in the back of her mind. Whatever he did, she had to endure it, she thought, had to survive for the sake of her baby. And even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew the baby would likely die from her uncle’s brutal assault. If that happened . . . She thrust the thought from her mind. She had to survive, for her baby. For Drake.
She squeezed her eyes shut when Dinescu shrugged out of the bulky coat and began unfastening his trousers.
This couldn’t be happening, she thought desperately. It had to be a nightmare. She would wake up soon to find Drake beside her.
She cried out when her uncle lowered his bulk over her.
Please
, she prayed fervently,
please spare my baby
.
Tears leaked from her eyes as her uncle’s hands moved over her, his touch repulsive, each stroke making her feel dirty, defiled.
She tried to dislodge him, tried to avoid his slobbery kisses, but he was too heavy, too determined, and with her hands tied behind her back, she was helpless. His foul breath made her sick to her stomach, his touch revolted her. Hot, bitter bile burned the back of her throat, and spewed between her lips when his mouth covered hers.
With a harsh cry of dismay, Dinescu reeled back.
Elena turned her head to the side, gasping for breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dinescu raise his fists to strike her again. Abandoning all hope, she closed her eyes and prayed for mercy.
But the blow didn’t fall.
She heard a hoarse cry, a sharp crack, like a bone breaking. Curious, she opened her eyes a little, squinting to see what was happening.
Relief washed through her when she saw Drake. He was here. She was safe. A flood of tears released the tension in her body as he reached for her.
“He will never hurt you again,” Drake said, lifting her to her feet, gathering her in his arms. “On my life, I swear no one will ever hurt you again.” He quickly untied her hands. Swinging her into his arms, he held her close. Keeping her face turned away from the body sprawled on the floor, he carried her out of the shed, then transported them into the castle. He would go back later to dispose of the body.
He kept a tight rein on his anger as he gently lowered Elena onto the sofa in front of the fireplace, covered her with the afghan, then started a fire in the hearth. He stood there a moment, gazing into the flames, his hands clenched at his sides. Dinescu would never know how lucky he had been, Drake thought. If not for his concern over Elena and what she might think if she knew what he was capable of, he would have torn the man limb from limb and taken pleasure in his anguished screams.
“Drake?”
Wiping his face clean of emotion, he turned to look at her, his gut twisting at the sight of her face, swollen and black-and-blue where Dinescu had hit her. “Do you need something? Aspirin? A cool cloth? Something to drink?”
She shook her head. “How did you find me?”
“I woke up and knew you were gone. I could sense your fear. I followed it to where you were.”
“But it’s daytime.”
“I was never outside.” He had transported himself from the castle to the shed. But he would have come after her even if he’d had to cross a desert at midday to find her. Would have walked through the hottest fires of hell itself to bring her home. Kneeling on the floor in front of the sofa, he took her hands in his. “Are you all right?”
“I think so. The baby . . .”
Eyes narrowed in concentration, he pressed one hand over her womb.
“Is she . . . ?” Elena bit down on her lower lip.
“All is well. Her heartbeat is strong and steady.”
Fresh tears welled in Elena’s eyes. “If you hadn’t come in time . . . if . . .” Her tears turned to sobs as the full horror of what had happened, what
could
have happened, set in.
Sitting on the sofa, Drake gathered her into his arms, blanket and all, and rocked her back and forth. “It is over,” he said, his voice low, soothing. “He is dead. Our daughter is unharmed.” He spoke the last words, hoping they were true.
Elena nodded, her body trembling uncontrollably.
“Elena, beloved, look at me.”
Capturing her gaze with his, he spoke to her mind, his voice quietly calming her as he assured her that he loved her, that she was safe, until she fell asleep in his arms.
 
 
Elena awoke with a groan. Her body ached, her face felt swollen where Dinescu had hit her, but those weren’t the pains that had roused her from sleep. She pressed a hand to her stomach. Was she having contractions? A gasp of alarm speared through her. It was too soon for the baby to come.
“Elena?” Awakened by the sharp intake of her breath, Drake sat up.
“The baby, I think she’s coming.”
He glanced at the hearth, igniting a fire to warm her.
“Drake!” She clutched at his hand. “It’s too soon.”
He swore softly. Had the trauma she’d experienced at her uncle’s hands caused this?
She bent over, her arms wrapped around her middle. “You need a doctor,” he said. And the best one he knew was one of the drones at the Fortress. A look smothered the fire in the hearth.
Gathering Elena into his arms, he kissed her cheek, then transported the two of them to his apartment at the Fortress. After tucking her into bed, he opened his senses, then summoned the doctor to his room.
The drone, known as Doctor Samuels, arrived moments later, medical bag in hand. A word released the drone from the thrall that bound him.
“My wife appears to be in labor,” Drake said, gesturing toward Elena. “See to her.”
With a nod, the doctor went into the bathroom and washed his hands, then returned to the bedside. He took Elena’s vitals, asked a few pertinent questions, then drew back the covers to examine her.
Drake stood beside the bed, his arms crossed over his chest. He had not prayed often in his life, but he prayed now, prayed fervently for a miracle.
The doctor was still examining Elena when someone knocked at the door. Before Drake could open it, Liliana stepped into the room. She didn’t say a word, merely moved to stand on the other side of the bed.
The doctor pulled the covers over Elena, then looked at Drake. “She’s in the early stages of labor,” he confirmed. “I will need some hot water and several clean sheets.”
“I will get them,” Liliana said, and left the room.
“You may want to help her into a clean nightgown,” the doctor said.
Drake nodded. “Wait outside.”
After the doctor left, Drake pulled the covers from the bed, then undressed Elena.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “I’m scared.”
“I know.” He found a clean gown in one of the dresser drawers and slipped it over her head, then covered her with one of the blankets. “Samuels is one of the best doctors in the world.”
She grimaced at the onset of another contraction. “Why didn’t you free the drones when you freed the sheep?”
“I honestly did not think of it.”
“You should. It isn’t fair to keep them here. Or to keep one of the world’s best doctors imprisoned when he could be helping lots of people instead of the few who live in the Fortress.”
“Yes, wife.”
“But I’m glad he’s here now.” Elena choked back a groan. “It hurts,” she wailed, clutching her stomach. “I didn’t think it would hurt so much.”
Liliana entered the room just then, with the doctor at her heels. She carried several folded sheets; the doctor carried a basin of hot water.
“Drake,” Liliana said, dropping the sheets on the foot of the bed, “I think you should wait outside. Having a baby is women’s work.”
“No!” Elena exclaimed, grabbing one of Drake’s hands. “Stay with me!”
“Whatever you wish, wife,” he said, squeezing her hand.
With a humph, Liliana said, “Then at least get out of the way so the doctor can do his job.”
“He can work around me. I’m staying right here.”
Liliana glared at him.
Drake looked at the doctor. “Is everything all right?”
“Her labor has accelerated,” Samuels said.
Elena moaned as her contractions came harder, faster. She clung to Drake’s hand, her nails biting into his palm.
“Push,” the doctor said.
Elena squeezed Drake’s hand harder, a low groan rising in her throat as she labored to bring their child into the world.
Unable to bear seeing her in pain, Drake wrapped his mind around hers, shielding her from the worst of it with his preternatural power.
“We’re almost there,” Samuels said. “I see the head.”
Elena’s body tensed and then, taking a deep breath, she pushed as hard as she could.
“That’s right,” the doctor said. “Just one more push and you can hold your baby in your arms.”
Drake wiped the perspiration from her brow. “You can do it, sweeting,” Drake said encouragingly.
Elena stared up at him, her hand clutching his as she expelled the infant from her womb in a rush of water and blood.
“It is a girl,” Liliana murmured. “A perfectly beautiful little girl.”
Leaning down, Drake kissed Elena on the cheek, then whispered, “I love you, wife.”
She smiled up at him. “I want to see her.”
“The doctor is cleaning her up. She is beautiful,” Drake said, “but not as beautiful as her mother.”
Moments later, washed and wearing a clean gown, Elena was sitting up, her daughter cradled in her arms. “She’s so tiny.” She looked up at the doctor. “Is she all right?”
“She’s strong and healthy, her lungs are clear, her heart rate is good. I don’t foresee any problems.”
“Thank you.”
“Doctor.” At the sound of Drake’s voice, the doctor turned to face him. “You will return to your quarters until you are needed.” There was a note of command in Drake’s voice.
“Yes, Lord Drake,” he said, his voice a monotone. Bowing his head, he left the room.
Elena pressed a kiss to the baby’s brow, then smiled up at Drake. “She’s beautiful,” she murmured, running her fingers lightly over the baby’s thick black hair. “I wonder if her eyes will stay blue, like yours.” She looked up at Drake’s mother, who stood near the bed, a rapt expression on her face as she gazed at the baby. “Would you like to hold her?”
“May I?”
“Of course.”
A smile spread over Liliana’s face as she took the baby in her arms. It was, Elena thought, the first genuine smile she had ever seen on the other woman’s face.
“You beautiful little thing,” Liliana crooned. “How I wish your grandfather was here to see you.” A single scarlet tear trickled down her cheek. “He would have adored you.”
Elena glanced at Drake, astonished by the gentleness in Liliana’s voice, the love that shone in her eyes.

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