The Fledgling (9 page)

He ran his hands through her silky curls and held her head still, gazing into her amazing face. “I have wanted you since I saw you in the alley.”

“Today was scary. I thought of you too.”

He chuckled. “I meant the alley from the night I first met you.”

Her mouth dropped open. “When I punched you in the stomach?”

“Yes.”

Talia nipped his chin. “You are one twisted vampire.”

She tilted her head to the side, fully exposing her neck to him. He nuzzled against her jugular, inhaling her lavender fragrance. His fangs extended, and he sank them and his cock into her at the same time.

He was finally home.

She arched under him, taking him further into her body. Perfection. But he did not know what the word truly meant until he pulled on her neck. Her floral-tinged blood flooded his mouth and he was no longer alone.

* * *

Talia lay on her side with her eyes closed. Jean Luc took advantage of the quiet time to study her. He could become addicted to her if he allowed himself.

She opened her eyes and stared at him for a moment. “I’ve been thinking.”

He held his breath. “Yes?”

“I plan on sticking around for a while. If it’s okay with you?”

“Very much so.”

A wicked grin danced across her face. “Good. But we’re going to have to establish some ground rules.”

He reached over and pulled her against him. “What sort of ground rules?”

“You’re very uptight. You need to loosen up a bit.”

“I guess I could work on that.” His cock and fangs lengthened. He was ready for her again.

She wagged her eyebrows and reached for his length, circling her fingers around the tip.

“
Merde.
”

Her gorgeous gold-specked eyes widened. “Did my high and mighty vampire, just say ‘shit’?”

He smiled. “
Oui
.”

She leaned in, her lips a hairsbreadth away from his own. “Then there’s hope for you yet.”

Fin
(for now)

Bonus Scene

For those of you who wondered what happened to Deanna and her baby…

The sliding doors to the emergency room swished open, and Misha charged in. Two steps in, he faltered at the cacophony assaulting his ears. He scanned the waiting room. A haggard-looking mother attempted to console her screaming baby by bouncing him on her hip. A man in a corner chair rocked back and forth while he clutched his stomach and groaned. The only person not making some sort of noise was an elderly woman who sat pressing her fingers against a bloody kitchen towel wrapped around her forearm. Her eyes widened as she ran them over his frame. When she reached his face, she smiled, winked at him, and motioned to the seat next to her.

Misha chuckled to himself. The woman was half his size and, as far as she knew, more than twice his age. Humans never ceased to amaze him. He smiled slightly at her then walked over to a high counter. A gray-haired nurse sat behind it, filling out information on a clipboard.

“Excuse me. A young, pregnant woman was just brought in here by ambulance. Can you tell me where they took her?”

The nurse didn’t look up from the desk. “Are you family?”

“No.”

“Then I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you anything.”

“Please. I’m her friend. Can’t I be with her?”

The nurse finally looked up at him, and he was able to make out her name tag. “Please, Nancy.” He smiled his best smile.

She shook her head slightly. “You use that smile and blue eyes to get what you want, don’t you?” She flipped through the list of names on the clipboard. “What is her name?”

“Deanna.”

She sighed. “Deanna what?”

“Um…”

Her brown eyes narrowed on him as she looked above the reading glasses perched on her nose. She smirked. “You’re a friend and you don’t know her last name?”

“No, but…”

Her arm straightened, and her index finger pointed stiffly to the waiting room. If she had been a demon, he would have half expected flames to shoot across the room. “Sit.”

He opened his mouth to argue, and she glared at him. “Don’t make me call security, big guy.”

It was Misha’s turn to sigh. This nurse reminded him of his grandmother. Now there was a female who tolerated no lip from her son or her three grandsons. Of course, it didn’t hurt that she had the ability to throw heavy objects with her mind.

Misha sat.

The elderly woman zeroed in on him and made her move, crossing the room. Before she could reach him, Nurse Nancy hollered from her perch. “Myrtle Davis! The doctor will see you now.”

The woman stopped and actually stuck out her bottom lip like a pouty child. But after wavering for a second or two, she sighed and went through the swinging door to the exam rooms. Too bad Jean Luc wasn’t here. He would have been amused to see Misha had an admirer. On second thought, Misha was glad he wasn’t present. He hoped Jean Luc was busy with Talia. Misha could only do so much matchmaking. Those two would have to take the final steps on their own.

He would make it a point to stay away from the house all night. If he were a betting demon, he would place his wager on Talia to make the first move. Jean Luc was pig-headed and too noble for his own good. He needed a shakeup in the ladies department.

Misha ran his hand over his face. Heck,
he
needed a shakeup in the ladies department. But that was a thought for another day. Today he had a part to play. He wasn’t Misha, a Shamat demon from Russia. He was Michael, a human from down south. Before he could throw off the role, he first must make sure Deanna was okay.

He decided to chance a glare from Nurse Nancy, stood up, and walked over to the payphones along the wall. He punched in Jean Luc’s private number and waited patiently as the phone rang three times.

“Hello.”

Misha hesitated. “Talia?”

“Yes. How’s Deanna?”

He smiled. “She’s still being checked over by the doctors. I was calling to see how you and Jean Luc are doing and to let you know I will not be home any time soon.”

“Okay. Take your time. We’re fine…and don’t worry, I’ll take care of Jean Luc.”

Misha chuckled. “I’m sure you will. I’m glad to see you have taken my advice and shown some
initiative
. I’ll talk to you later.”

He hung up and turned as the exam doors swung open and a young nurse pushed Deanna into the waiting room in a wheelchair. She was dressed in a hospital gown and wrapped in a blanket. Misha rushed over to her.

Deanna’s eyes widened. “Michael, you came.”

“Of course. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

The young nurse smiled. “She’s fine. Just a few scratches. But to be safe, we’re taking her up to OB to have them check her over as well.”

Nancy interrupted, “You need to hurry back, Melissa. We’ve received report of a bus accident, and the victims are on their way here now.”

“I can take her upstairs.” Misha jumped in.

Nancy frowned. “That’s against the rules.” The outside doors swished opened, and two paramedics dashed in with a gurney. She hesitated for a second and then nodded. “Go on. They’re expecting her on floor seven.”

Misha grasped the wheelchair handles and pushed Deanna down the hall, away from the drama unfolding behind them. When they reached the elevator bank, he punched the button and turned to face her. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks,” she said, softly.

The elevator dinged, doors opened, and two nurses rushed out and jogged toward the ER.

“They must have called in reinforcements.”

Deanna shuddered slightly. “I’m glad we’re out of there.”

Misha rolled her into the elevator and hit the seven button. “Me, too. When we get upstairs, is there someone you want me to call? Your family, perhaps, or the baby’s father?”

She looked at the floor. “No. I don’t have any family and…he’s no longer around.”

His heart broke for her. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you helping me?” she blurted, looking up at him with shimmering eyes.

“Because I want to. You shouldn’t be alone.”

“Do you think Simon is okay?”

“He woke up when the ambulance arrived at the gym, which is a good sign. Hopefully, his head wound is not too severe. I’ll go find out how he’s doing once I get you situated in maternity.”

“Why do you think David tried to kill me?”

He hesitated for a moment. Talia had said Deanna had not seen the demon fully transformed, but she had felt his claws. “I’m not sure why he attacked you. He had to have been deranged. He imagined he was a monster. But he can no longer hurt you.”

“He
thought
he was a monster?” She narrowed her eyes. “Or he
was
a monster?”

Misha opened his mouth to respond. The elevator lurched hard and stopped.

Deanna clutched the arms of the wheelchair. “What happened?’

“Don’t worry, we will be fine.” He smiled to ease the tension.

She grimaced.

“What’s wrong?”

“My back has been bothering me since yesterday. Maybe I pulled something.”

Misha smiled widely again, knowing it probably bordered on the maniacal, like the Joker from Batman, but he couldn’t let her see him panic. Back pain? Dear God, she’d probably been having contractions for twenty-four hours at least. He punched the elevator buttons in a useless attempt to force the elevator to start moving again.

Of course it would stop at a time like this. Was this not the case in every television show he had ever watched? Any time a pregnant woman appeared on a show, she inevitably went into labor. In a very inconvenient place and at a very inconvenient time. And then the main characters had to deliver the baby—without the help of a doctor, of course. He looked up at the ceiling and saw a small door. Even if he could open it with his demon strength, neither of them would fit through. His telekinesis would be of no help, either. He was strong, but he wouldn’t be able to move the entire elevator.

This is what he got for flippantly announcing to Talia he had always wanted to watch a baby being born. The Fates could be twisted bitches when they wanted to be.

Misha’s thumb jammed hard on the red emergency button…and no alarm sounded. An expletive exploded from his lips that was quite vivid, but since it was in his mother tongue, Deanna would not know what it meant. Or so he hoped.

Silence reigned for a moment, until Misha turned to face her.

Deanna’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “What language was that?”

“Russian.”

“But I thought you were Southern?”

Misha sighed. How was he going to explain this? He spoke normally. “I am originally from Russia. But since Americans do not trust us much, I try to hide my accent.”

Deanna smirked. “I think your Russian accent is sexy. Is your name even Michael?”

“Yes…well, it is Mikhail, which is the Russian name for Michael. But I go by Misha.”

She giggled.

“What is so funny?”

“Misha is a goofy name for a grown man.”

He chuckled. “Maybe so.”

“I think I’ll call you by your real name. Mee-ki-yil, right?”

“Very close. It is pronounced Mee-ky-ale.”

She frowned at his correction, and then her eyes widened like she had seen a ghost. He whipped his head around. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with ghosts.

Finding nothing alarming, he stepped toward her and knelt. “What’s wrong?”

“I think my water just broke.”

* * *

Misha held Deanna’s hand as she groaned again. The contractions were close together, and he had finally given up yelling himself hoarse earlier, trying to get someone’s attention. He could freely admit to himself now that he had lost it for a couple minutes after Deanna’s water broke.

He was way out of his element.

Two hundred and thirty years old, and he could face down most demons and defeat them if need be. But this? How do you calm a hysterical teen who has gone into labor in an elevator? And the only person who can help her is a stranger…a male stranger whom she just met and who had lied to her about being Southern and human?

He wished his grandmother was here. She would handle things as she always did, with authority. Deanna moaned.

“Little one, I think it is time for me to look and see how the baby is doing. The pains are coming very quickly now.”

Her lips trembled. “No, my baby is not going to be born in an elevator.”

Misha grinned. “I don’t think you have any say in the matter. Right now, the baby is in charge.”

“Yell again for help.”

“First, let me take a look.” When her contractions had increased in intensity, he had folded her blanket on the elevator floor and convinced her to lie down on it.

He reached for her hospital gown, and she locked eyes with him.

“It’s going to be fine,” he said, then ducked to look.