Dark Celebration (46 page)

"Here,
Dad
," Gregori said with heavy sarcasm, "let me help you up. Is there anything else you need?"

Mikhail allowed him to help him to the door. "Now that you mention it, son, yes." He wrapped his arm around Savannah and kissed her cheek. "Congratulations, honey, I will look forward to having granddaughters." He smiled at Gregori. "I'd like you to play the role of Santa Claus for the children tonight. It's a big responsibility and obviously you're the best choice for the job." He pulled a red cap topped with a white knitted snowball out of the air and plopped it on top of Gregori's head. "I've brought along the costume, although there's some controversy over whether Santa wears red tights or not." He waved the tights under Gregori's nose.

Gregori snatched the tights from Mikhail's hand and the hat from his head. "Mikhail…" His teeth came together in a loud snap of warning. "You wouldn't dare do that to me." He looked around the room at the insects decorating his walls. "I see now why my brothers have decided to visit." He waved his hands creating a wild wind that blew like a cyclone through the house.

The insects wavered, shifting into men, all laughing uproariously. Lucian clapped him on the back and Gabriel ruffled his hair. "Congratulations, little brother, you drew the short stick."

"You all knew about this?" Gregori demanded. He made a grab for Mikhail, but the prince was already out the door with a cheery little wave.

Darius touched fists with Julian, the pair of them grinning at each other. The others whooped with laughter.

"Out," Gregori ordered. "Every last one of you."

"I wouldn't mind seeing the cap on your head again." Darius wiggled his fingers as if Gregori should spin around and model for them.

"Put on the tights," Jacques encouraged.

"Get. Out." Gregori enunciated each word.

"Sure, sonny boy," Julian snorted. "We'll leave you to practice for your command performance tonight."

Another whoop of laughter filled the house, threatening to take off the roof. Gregori held open the door and simply pointed. The men filed out, large grins on their faces.

Gregori kicked the door closed and turned to his lifemate. "I'm killing your father. I've decided the Carpathian people can do without him just fine."

Savannah pressed her hand tightly over her mouth. "It's really an honor." The words came out muffled as she choked on her laughter.

He held up his hand. "Don't. Do not say another word."

She slipped her arm around his waist and leaned into him. "Is it really so terrible?"

"You saw them. Every single male in the territory was here. Your father set me up."

Savannah was silent for a moment. "Then I guess we have to figure out a way to turn the tables on them all, don't we?"

He wrapped a fistful of hair around his hand and stared down into her upturned face, always so beloved to him. "Just what are you thinking?"

A slow smile lit her eyes. "They want Santa Claus? I'm a magician aren't I? The great Savannah Dubrinsky? And you are Gregori, commander of earth, spirit, fire and water. You call down the weather and make the earth tremble. Santa Claus is going to be a piece of cake. I do wish they had given us a little more time to prepare. But we'll give them the best Santa Claus ever. No child will be afraid of you and you won't be falling on your face like they all expect."

"Are you certain it wouldn't be simpler just to do in your father and bury his body somewhere in the forest?" Gregori sounded hopeful.

She went up on her toes to press kisses against his mouth. "You are so bloodthirsty."

He placed his hand over her rounded stomach. "There are really two little girls growing inside of you?"

She nodded, placing her hand over his. "Yes. We really managed to shock you, didn't we?"

"I'm a healer,
ma petite
. I should know what is going on inside your body at all times. How else will I keep you healthy?"

She brought his hand to her mouth, nibbling on his fingers. "I like that we can occasionally surprise you."

"Oh, you do that, Savannah," he assured her. "You always do that."

Chapter 18

"Sara, I can't find my wings," little Emma said, running down the hall, her curls bobbing. "I looked everywhere." "Trav took them," Chrissy volunteered. "He said Emma was no angel and he was going to throw her wings away." Her too-large eyes were very solemn, waiting to see what terrible punishment the adults would mete out over such a crime.

Sara rolled her eyes when Emma started to wail. "I am an angel. I am! Trav is a bad, bad boy, isn't he, Falcon?"

Falcon scooped her up and whirled her around before her wail could turn into a serious crying jag. "I think Trav is a mischievous boy, not a bad one. What could you possibly have done to keep him from thinking you're an angel?"

"He always wants food and I took his sandwich and gave it to Maria's dog. Trav doesn't need the sandwich as much as Maria's dog does. Trav can just go in the kitchen any time. That's what Sara said, right Sara?"

"That's right, Emma," Sara agreed. "There's always plenty of food to go around, but you shouldn't take Trav's sandwich. If you want to give Maria's dog something to eat, get it from the kitchen."

Falcon cleared his throat.
That could be downright scary. She's liable to give the dog a roast next time
.

"What I mean, Emma, is ask Slavica or Maria before you take anything from the kitchen. They know what dogs should eat," Sara hastily added.

Emma was four, and Sara was fairly certain the argument would go on forever if she didn't find a way to change the subject. "We have to hurry and get all of you children over to the inn. Everyone is waiting to see the show."

"I need my wings, Falcon," Emma declared. "I can't be an angel without my wings." Her lower lip began to tremble.

"We'll find your wings, little one," Falcon assured her. He looked across the room and smiled at Sara.

She had done this, created a miracle for these children. Now they were on the road to health and slowly beginning to believe they wouldn't have to steal for food and would always have a roof over their heads. It was never easy. Sara had rescued seven gifted children who had been living in the sewers in Romania and brought them to the Carpathian Mountains. Sara and Falcon rose as early as possible, and stayed up as late as they could in order to be with the children. They were lucky enough to find several human women willing to work for them, caring for the children during the hours they had no choice but to be asleep.

Falcon had never imagined he could love so much, but sometimes, like now, it seemed it spilled out of him and fill all the empty spaces in the room. He hugged Emma again, ignoring her squeals, and led the little group to the chair where Travis sat, trying to glare at the others. Falcon winked at the boy and held out his hand. "Let's go. This is a celebration
dinner
and the quicker we get the play out of the way, the quicker you get to eat. I know Corinne and Mrs. Sanders are fantastic cooks. You won't want to miss this meal."

Travis sighed and stood up, dragging the wings out from under his bottom. "At least I don't have to be the angel." He suddenly grinned up at Falcon. "I get to be king."

Falcon dropped a hand on the boy's shoulder. Travis was the oldest and at eight, had carried a lot of responsibility over the others, picking pockets, trying to get food to feed them, always trying to protect them from the older, larger bullies on the streets and in the sewers. He was tall for his age and very thin, with a mop of dark hair he refused to cut. When Falcon had wanted to insist on having the hair cut, Sara had pointed out the boy was trying to be like him, so he left it wild and untamed. After that, Falcon spent time trying to give the boy a few pointers on keeping his long hair groomed. Tonight it seemed he had done a better job than usual. Even Emma didn't have anything to say about Travis's hair.

"You look great tonight."

"Sara said everyone was coming from the church to the inn."

"Yes, they went to midnight service and they will be coming for the dinner. Did you want to go the service?" He glanced at Sara, trying hard to keep a straight face.

Travis scowled at him. "Not me. I'm not going."

"I didn't think you wanted to, but figured I'd better ask, just to keep your options open. We'd better get going or we'll be late."

"Falcon," Emma asked as they headed out the door. "Is St. Nick really going to come? Will he have a present for me?"

There was a sudden silence, and he realized his answer was important to all of the children as he looked down at their upturned, expectant faces. Even Travis looked hopeful, although he tried to appear indifferent. They'd never had a Christmas tree, or enough food or even a roof over their heads, let alone a Christmas present.

"I certainly believe he is coming," Falcon said, a lump in his throat threatening to choke him. He exchanged another look with Sara. It was easy to understand why she had needed to rescue at least these children. She could only save so many, and she had done her best to provide a good home for them.

"Come on, everybody, let's go. We're riding in a sleigh this evening," Sara announced. "Make certain you have your hats and coats and gloves."

"Like Santa's sleigh?" Chrissy asked. At five, she was the oldest girl and took her role very seriously. There was wonder in her voice, and Sara was instantly grateful Falcon had thought of a sleigh ride.

"Well, we'll have horses instead of reindeer," Sara said, "but it should be fun. When you get in, pull the heavy blanket over you, so you stay warm."

They couldn't put seven children in one sleigh, so Sara rode with the four boys so they could "take care of her" while Falcon looked after the three little girls. Travis took the reins and, looking very grown-up, gave the command to start the horses. Jase, the youngest boy, only three, gripped Sara hard and squealed with delight as they skimmed across the snow toward the inn.

Falcon scanned the area around them. He knew there had been several attacks on the women and one directed at the prince, and his apprehension grew as they proceeded through the heaviest part of the woods. A flutter of movement overhead pulled his gaze upward and he saw several owls winging their way overhead. The horses snorted, blew streams of vapor into the air, heads tossing as they eyed the wolves pacing along beside them, the leader running parallel, ice-blue eyes blazing.

"Our escorts," Falcon called out, laughing. Warriors everywhere, flying above them, running beside them, watching over the children and Sara. He saluted them as the sleigh raced over the snow, runners gliding easily.

The sleigh bells tinkled with every step the horses took. The children's cheeks were red and rosy, eyes wide with excitement, and their laughter was music to his ears.
I love you, Sara. Thank you for giving me life
.

I love you right back, Falcon. Thank you for being you. No other would have taken on these children and embraced them the way you have. You are a remarkable man.

The inn was lit up, colorful lights shining from the balcony and around the door. The horses pulled right up to the entrance and the innkeeper, Slavica, one of the women who often cared for the children, came out to greet them. Hugging each, she took them into the huge dining room where they had set up the stage. Falcon and Sara took their seats, Sara gripping his hand hard, fingers crossed that the children would have fun putting on their performance for all the adults.