Dark Celebration (17 page)

Darius's warning growl met with soft laughter. He glanced back at her.
I do not know him as the others do and I prefer to ensure your safety
. He turned back to greet the prince, who seemed to be inspecting the damaged wall. "Mikhail, I was just about to fix the house."

The prince arched a black brow. "Should I inquire as to what happened?"

"Better not," Darius advised. "Some things are best left mysteries. Give me a minute to repair the damage and we can go inside, out of the weather, to visit."

"The hole appears larger than I remember." Tempest peered around Darius to scowl at the blackened ruin of a kitchen. "I think someone's been here adding to the wreckage. It didn't look like this when we left it." She flashed a tentative smile at the prince. "The house is really nice. Thank you for lending it to us."

Mikhail turned away to keep the couple from seeing the laughter in his eyes. Raven's idea of having the Carpathians cook dinner for the guests at the inn was turning out to be more fun than he had anticipated. "Raven and I are more than happy to lend you one of our houses. We hope you are able to stay for a long visit and maybe look upon this place as your home when you are not traveling."

"Thank you," Darius said politely, without committing to anything.

Hands on hips, Mikhail stared at the gaping hole in the wall of one of his most beloved dwellings. "I have always wanted a small alcove there. I thought the room was too square and needed an intimate conversation area."

Darius nodded. "I believe you are right, and it's very easily done. Is this what you had in mind?" He waved his hands and the sides of the house moved into a series of curves.

Mikhail studied the structure and nodded. "Something like that. More on this line." He added to the curves, making them serpentine, so that the house appeared to be a giant snake. "What do you think?"

Tempest shook her head as the two men remodeled the kitchen. It looked like a competition to her rather than a repair job. She sighed and rubbed her hand over her stomach. The idea of having a child had never occurred to her. After she had gone through the conversion and her normal bodily functions ceased, she simply didn't give a thought to birth control. It was a stupid mistake, and one she couldn't take back.

Darius seemed fine with the idea, maybe even pleased, but nothing ever rocked him. He was a dangerous, lethal man, completely confident in his abilities, and the confidence was born of experience. She had been on the run most of her life. She had no family and didn't know the first thing about children.

We will do fine
. Darius brushed the words through her mind like caressing fingers, his voice so soft and warm she could feel him inside her.

Not if you keep changing the house. It's making me feel dizzy, not to mention it's ugly. Stop competing and let's go inside. Sheesh! You're like a couple of schoolboys.

Darius cleared his throat. "Tempest would like to go in. That particular shape is obnoxious, but we can live with it for the brief amount of time we will be here if it is what you desire."

Mikhail burst out laughing. "It is obnoxious. Raven would think I had lost my mind. I could not resist."

Darius took Tempest's hand, his thumb brushing a subtle caress over her inner wrist as they entered the house. "I hope you are not here to check on how the cooking is progressing. We are not quite ready for tonight's celebration."

"I have no interest in cooking, although I do not think the others are faring much better than you two. I just dropped by to get your opinion on a couple of things."

Darius waved Mikhail toward the most comfortable chair. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, before we get too deep in serious things, I thought you might like to know, Raven has decreed someone must play Santa Claus."

Darius stiffened, but his face remained without expression. "The jolly man in the red suit."

"Exactly. I can see that your reaction is much the same as mine. Fortunately, I have a son-in-law and I feel it is his duty to take on this…" He paused searching for the right word.

Something very close to amusement flickered in the depths of Darius's eyes. "Honored task," he supplied.

Mikhail nodded. "I could not have found a better description."

"I will be more than happy to accompany you when you tell my older brother you are bestowing such a privilege on him."

"Strangely enough, quite a few others wish to be there as well."

Tempest looked from one solemn face to the other. "Are you both crazy? That man could scare the devil."

"That is what you say about me."

"Well, you could too," Tempest pointed out. "But he isn't telling you to play Santa to a bunch of children."

"And I sincerely thank you for that," Darius said. The amusement faded from his eyes as he continued to study Mikhail's face. "You are worried, and not about my brother playing the part of St. Nick. What is it?"

"I am uneasy over the gathering of our women in one place. While I think it is a good thing for all of us to get together, it has occurred to me that our enemies will figure out that it would not take much to wipe out our species."

Darius nodded. "There are so few women and children. Get rid of them and the males have no hope. Very soon chaos would reign and many would choose life as the undead over death."

Mikhail nodded. "I fear it is so. We had an incident a few minutes ago in the woods. A subtle influence none of us felt immediately. Skyler tried to follow the path back to the sender, but they realized she was on to them and shut down. But they now have a direct path to her."

"The other women?" Darius was already checking with and warning Desari and Julian, Dayan and Corrine and lastly, Barack and Syndil. Each responded with a quick touch to assure him there was no threat to them at the moment and they understood to be careful and alert.

"There have been no other incidents and I have sent men ahead to the inn to ferret out any enemies, but we must be vigilant at all times and keep our women and children close and protected."

Like you all don't already do that? Great, he's just giving you more ammunition to be bossy.

Darius ignored her. "The child—Skyler. Is she safe? Gabriel and Lucian are my brothers by blood. Skyler is blood kin."

"We will all see to her safety. You probably don't remember Dimitri—he was much older than you—but he's returned from Russia and is Skyler's lifemate. It is a complication we did not expect."

"Gabriel is protective of her."

"Yes, he is—as he should be. She is invaluable to us." Mikhail leaned toward him. "I know you have been talking with Gregori, Francesca and Shea about how you kept the other children alive after the massacre. They were only babies. You were merely six years old."

"Unfortunately, I do not remember very much. It was centuries ago. We were on another continent, in an unfamiliar world. I did not remember much of my homeland other than the war and the massacre. I inadvertently instilled a fear in the others of these mountains and we avoided the area completely."

Mikhail nodded. "It is understandable, but perhaps you do not realize the miracle you achieved. The greatest minds, our most talented healers, are not able to do what you have done. In order for our species to survive, we must find the answers to why our women miscarry. Why so many of our infants die in their first year. And why we have such a high percentage of male over female births."

Tempest gasped and went completely pale. "Darius?" She framed his face with her hands, forcing him to meet her terrified gaze. "Is this true? Did you know this?"

"Yes." Lifemates did not lie to one another.

"Miscarriages? The child dies in the first year?" She refused to look away from him—refused to allow him to look away from her. "You knew this all along?"

"Our race is dying," Darius said. "We have too few women and even fewer children."

"But you said…" She trailed off, dropping her hands as if touching his skin scorched her. "You should have told me this immediately."

"What good would it have done? The decision is made for us. Our child grows within your body. We have already created a life. There is no alternative for me but to ensure the child survives. I refuse to consider any other possibility." His voice was mild, his face carved of stone. His black-black eyes never left hers.

"You should have told me," she repeated.

"Several of our women have been successful in carrying babies," Mikhail said, standing. "There is always hope. Especially now. I will need to discuss this further with you, Darius," he added.

Darius continued to hold Tempest's gaze. "Yes, of course. I am at your disposal." He waited until the prince left before he tunneled his hand in the mass of bright red hair. "We will not lose our child."

"Because you decree it?"

"If that is what it takes. My will is unyielding. I did not lose Desari, or Syndil or Barack or Dayan. They live because I decreed it—because I fought for their lives and used every ounce of will and skill I possessed to ensure their survival. Do not think I would do less for my own child—for our child."

"That's why they all have such confidence in you—why they expect so much of you. Without you they would have all died."

It was the simple truth. He had been six, but already, the Daratrazanoff blood was strong in him and his will grew and grew until he refused to allow defeat into his mind no matter the odds.

"I didn't think I wanted to have a baby, Darius. Now, when I think I may lose it, I know I want it desperately. Shea must be so frightened. She's close to labor. If I were her, I would not want to allow the baby to leave the safety of my body."

"She has Jacques to keep them both safe, Tempest. You have me."

Tempest slid onto his lap, laying her head against his chest. "Then I'm not going to worry."

He kissed her gently, lovingly. "I will believe that when I see it."

"For that, you can bake the pies."

"Pies?"

"The gooey purple stuff. You said you would do anything for me and I need those pies baked."

"You think I cannot do it."

"I think it will be very funny to watch you try." She leaned in for another kiss, laughter beginning to bubble up.

Chapter 7

Barack, in the form of an owl, circled the house he was occupying with Syndil. There didn't appear to be a disturbance, but his heart was still in his throat. Something didn't feel right. He reached out to her on their private, very intimate telepathic band, but she didn't respond. He felt her presence, felt her focus—her entire concentration elsewhere—a good sign as Syndil would have been broadcasting waves of fear had she been frightened.

He dropped down fast, shapeshifting as he plummeted, and he hit the porch nearly sprinting, needing to see her. She was still so emotionally fragile and their relationship was very tentative at times. She had a tendency to retreat even from him. Ever since the brutal attack by Savon, a trusted family member who had turned vampire, she'd had problems with trust and especially intimacy.

"Syndil!" he called out to her, striding quickly through the small cabin.