The Champion

by H. P. Mallory

  “I can assure you, my dear lady, that we had a most civilized, if brief and slightly… confusing discussion.”

  “About?”

  “Whether or not Chevalier was the father of Lady Bryn’s child.”

  “Oh, good gracious!” she said, her eyes going wide. “And you didn’t come to blows?”

  “Certainly not. What do you take us for?”

  “I’d prefer not to answer that.”

  I smiled. “Anyway. All is well that ends well. I bid you good day, Mathilda.”

  “Hold your horses, Sinjin. You might not have been looking for me, but I have been looking for you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Where have you been hiding lately? I haven’t seen you.”

  I shrugged. “Just keeping a low profile.”

  “Well. Be that as it may, I have something important to discuss with you.”

  “I am all ears.”

  “It’s quite private,” she said as she glanced over her shoulder as if afraid someone was lurking there. She faced me again. “Why don’t we take a stroll through the orchards?”

  “As you wish.”

  We fell into step beside each other. I must admit that Mathilda had piqued my curiosity. She was not the type of lady to waste one’s time with inconsequential ramblings.

  “You recall our dear friend Monsieur D?”

  “How could I forget?” I responded immediately, as Monsieur D was not the type of man one could forget, try though one might. “He is no friend of mine.”

  “Indeed. Well, you’ll also remember the loopholes he so enjoys putting into all his contracts.”

  I frowned. “Of course.”

  “Well, I’ve developed a theory which I believe to be credible.”

  “Pray tell.”

  “I think I’ve worked out what your loophole and Bryn’s loopholes were. And they’re both related.”

  Interest blossomed within me. “Are you referring to the lady’s pregnancy?”

  “I am. We know that Bryn believed herself incapable of becoming pregnant, and there was ample evidence to corroborate this theory.”

  Mathilda did not spell out that the evidence involved Bryn’s time in Luce’s camp as a “breeder”, but I could tell by the intense way she looked at me that such was what she meant. I merely nodded. She continued.

  “Well, what if the loophole for Bryn was that she can now have a baby?”

  “What was her contract with Monsieur D again?” I asked.

  “To learn how to use the Flame.”

  “Ah, that is right,” I said as I nodded. “And what do you believe my loophole to be?”

  She glanced up at me with a sly smile. “I think you can work it out, laddie.”

  It had been centuries since anyone had called me that. And there were precious few people who could get away with calling me, Sinjin Sinclair, master vampire and Chief Protector to the Queen and her own, a “laddie.” Fortunately for Mathilda, she was one of them.

  “You think my loophole was that I no longer fire blanks?”

  “Not just that,” she said, and shook her head. Then she faced me resolutely. “I believe you retained several of your human characteristics. I mean, you didn’t think you just spontaneously grew a respiratory system overnight, did you, my dear?”

  My instincts told me that Mathilda was spot on, and I had learned, through almost six hundred years of trial and error, to always trust my instincts.

  “Hmm,” I said. “I think I might have an apology to make.” Quite a big apology, as it were.

  Mathilda made a noise which could be best described as a snort.

  “You think?” She put her hands on her hips in a time-honored fishwife pose. “What you’ve put that poor girl through is nothing short of shameful! You just upped and turned your back on her in her time of greatest need, not to mention insulting her integrity in the process.”

  “But I thought she and Chevalier …”

  “And what did Dureau say when you asked him, hmm?”

  “That they had never … well, you know.”

  “Aye. And if you weren’t such a numbskull, you would have known that from the start.”

  “Numbskull! That is rather harsh, Mathilda, is it not?”

  “I don’t believe it is.”

  A silence ensued in which I absorbed her words. “Very well,” I said finally. “Let us say that I am indeed a ‘numbskull.’ What course of action would you recommend?”

  “If I were you, I’d get down on my hands and knees and beg that girl’s forgiveness.”

  Hands and knees. Moi! Still, if that was what it took … I had certainly put my foot in my mouth and made a mess of things.

  “And do you think the lady will deign to forgive me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I must have looked particularly woebegone, because Mathilda’s face softened as I gazed upon her, and she even smiled a little.

  “You are a handsome devil, to be sure. You’ve got that going for you, anyway.”

  I grinned at her.

  “Try smiling at her like that. It might work.”

  “Thank you, Mathilda.”

  I grabbed the diminutive woman by the shoulders and planted a firm kiss on each of her cheeks. Then I went off in search of my lady love.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Bryn

  Thirty minutes after my encounter with Varick, I was still shaken. My walk in the forest wasn’t helping, either. Usually, the forest calmed my nerves—more specifically, the sound of birds singing, the stream as it gurgled over the rocks, or inhaling the scent of the numerous pines, but nothing seemed to be helping now.

  I’d felt, during our confrontation, that I was facing real evil. Varick had never been the most appealing of characters, but something seemed to have gotten into him lately. Something that was beyond just disagreeable. It was as if the deterioration in his physical appearance was mirrored by a deterioration in his character. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something weird was happening to him.

  “Bryn.”

  The sound was so soft, I thought I was imagining it at first, mistaking it for the wind in the trees.

  But then Sinjin stepped out from behind a particularly large trunk. My initial impulse was to fling myself into his arms, I was so happy and relieved to see him. But then I remembered what a jerk he’d been lately, and I stopped myself, putting up my proverbial mental and emotional shields.

  “What do you want?”

  He didn’t reply. Just stared at me in a strange way. I couldn’t guess at the thoughts going through his head.

  “Well?”

  “Can we talk?”

  “Why? So you can insult me and accuse me of things that aren’t true?”

  I was surprised to see him wince. I hadn’t really expected my words to hit home. When Sinjin thought he was right about something, he was unbearably arrogant.

  “I will not insult you or accuse you of anything,” he responded.

  “Well, you can talk if you like, but make it quick because I’ve got things to do.”

  I began to walk away from him.

  “Please, Bryn.” He caught me by my upper arm.

  I considered shaking him off, but something in his voice stopped me.

  “Okay. You’ve got two minutes.”

  “That long?” He smiled ruefully.

  “Take it or leave it.”

  “I shall take it.”

  I nodded and folded my arms across my chest. I refused to look at him.

  “I have just come from Mathilda’s residence,” he began.

  When I didn’t respond, he continued.

  “I spoke to Chevalier.”

  This did pique my interest.

  “About what?”

  “You.”

  I chanced looking at him. Dammit, he was too gorgeous for his own good. For my own good, anyway.

  “So, the two of you talked about me behind my back?”

  “No. Well, yes, but suffice to
say, that is not what I am attempting to tell you, albeit rather poorly.”

  “So?”

  “Chevalier told me that you and he had not had a physical relationship.”

  “So what?” I demanded as I held my chin up high. “I already told you that.”

  “Right.”

  “And you didn’t believe me.”

  He nodded. “Right.”

  “But you believe Dureau?”

  “I do.”

  “Well, at least you believe one of us,” I grumbled, shaking my head.

  “I owe you the deepest of apologies.”

  I could hardly believe my ears. Was the great Sinjin Sinclair saying he was sorry? And more than that, admitting that he’d been wrong in the first place?

  “So, let me get this straight,” I started, unable to control the anger in my tone. This was just too little coming way too late. “Dureau told you exactly the same thing I did, but you believed him, and you didn’t believe me? That’s the gist of it, right?”

  “I just required… confirmation.”

  “And you’ve got that confirmation now.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good for you.” I started to walk away.

  “Bryn, there happens to be more.”

  I stopped walking, but I didn’t turn around. I was so angry, my hands were fisting at my sides and the nausea returned with a vengeance, which made me even angrier. “This better be good.”

  “After speaking with Chevalier, I spoke to Mathilda.”

  “And?” I demanded.

  “She said I was a numbskull.”

  I laughed in spite of myself. It sounded like something Mathilda would say. “I could have told you that.”

  “Indeed. She also has a very interesting—and I daresay, convincing—theory regarding Monsieur D and the loopholes in his contracts.”

  I turned around to face him, deciding I’d rather look at Sinjin than the trees surrounding me. After a while, they all started to look the same. That didn’t mean I was any less irritated with him, though. “Go on.”

  “Mathilda believes the loophole in your contract has allowed for your pregnancy.”

  I frowned as I studied him. “So, the contract I made with Monsieur D, a contract which allowed me to further understand how to use the Flame, also allowed my body to… get pregnant?”

  “Yes, quite so,” Sinjin answered with a clipped nod.

  “Hmm,” I said while I considered it.

  “And she believes the loophole to my contract was that I retained certain human characteristics.”

  “The ability to father a child,” I finished.

  He just nodded, and we stared at one another for what seemed like an eternity. My head was whirring with the information I’d just been given, but whirring in such a way that all the puzzle pieces were beginning to fit together, and an image was taking shape. It all made perfect sense! Mathilda was right.

  Without breaking eye contact, Sinjin took a few steps towards me. “I am so sorry, Bryn,” he said, his voice low and his eyes wide pools of regret. “My behavior towards you has been appalling and I am beyond ashamed of myself.” He took a breath, and it surprised me. This breathing thing left over from his humanity took some getting used to. “I should have believed you immediately. I was so eaten up with jealousy and … hurt.” His voice trailed. “I could not see past it.” He paused for a moment. “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

  I was aware of my pulse racing and knew that Sinjin, with his heightened vampire senses, would be acutely aware of it, too. The truth was, I was powerless to resist him. I needed him too much, wanted him too much. Loved him too much. And now that his child was growing within me, I needed him more than ever before.

  “I forgive you,” I whispered.

  He didn’t say anything or do anything right away. But after a few more seconds, he took a step closer to me, and I allowed it. Then he closed the distance separating us and pulled me into his arms.

  Before I knew what was happening, his lips were on mine, and the feverish passion behind his kiss was all-encompassing. He held me against his chest for a long time. Or, at least, it felt like a long time.

  “We are going to have a child together,” he whispered.

  “I know,” I swallowed hard as I rested my head against his chest and breathed him in. He smelled so crisp, so clean, so masculine, so Sinjin. “And it scares me.”

  “Do not be scared,” he said immediately as he wrapped his arms around me more tightly. “I will be there to support you every step of the way.”

  Regardless, the idea of motherhood did scare me because it was just so… so foreign.

  What would it mean to be a mother? Was I even capable of taking care of a child?

  I mean, I wasn’t exactly the motherly type. I’d been so convinced all this time that I was incapable of having children that I’d sort of turned that side of me off.

  And yet, I was overly fond and doting towards my niece, the Princess Emma.

  But being a doting aunt is very different from being a mother, I reminded myself.

  “You appear lost in your thoughts, my little tempest,” Sinjin said in a tone of voice that revealed he was guilty of the same.

  “I was lost in my thoughts,” I said as I took a seat on the slight incline of the grassy hill and allowed the breeze to caress my face. It did little to relieve the anxiety warring through me. I stared out at the forest in front of us, wondering at the sheer number of the trees.

  “Bryn?” Sinjin said my name in a soft tone as he took a seat beside me. Then he gathered me back into his arms. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, but then shook my head as I turned to face him. “What am I going to do?”

  “What do you mean?” he inquired, frowning his confusion at me. “You shall do what nature intended—become a mother.”

  “That’s just it, Sinjin!” I said as I threw my hands in the air and shook my head. “I was never meant to be a mother!”

  “Clearly, you are quite mistaken, my pet.”

  “Look at me!” I nearly shrieked at him.

  “I am doing just that presently,” he responded, his lips turning up in that little smirk of his that normally drove me crazy. This time, it barely even registered.

  “I’m not meant to be a mother, Sinjin. I’m… I’m not like my sister. I don’t have any maternal tendencies. I’m a warrior, a fighter. I’m not meant to… play this role.”

  “I believe those natural inclinations will come with time,” he responded, pulling me even closer. But feeling him beside me did nothing to alleviate my nerves. This was all just… too much. Too real.

  “Breathe, my dear,” he whispered into my hair before kissing the top of my head. “We will take this one day at a time.”

  I smiled and decided not to tell him about Varick for the time being. It would only ruin the moment.

  The relief I felt about my relationship with Sinjin left me free to concentrate on other subjects. One such subject that offered no relief at all was the fact that I was soon to become a mother. As the days passed, the reality of my situation was no easier to face. Instead, I busied myself by concentrating on other important subjects, such as infiltrating the minds of Luce’s tribe in order to convince them of his treachery.

  But for this, I needed Dureau.

  “Sinjin?”

  He looked up from the map of Luce’s compound he’d been studying. We stood within the Green Room of Kinloch Kirk, the room where Jolie made her decisions regarding the future of the Underworld.

  “Yes, my love?” Sinjin asked, eyeing me with interest. I noticed his attention had been unwavering lately—he was always worried about the baby and about me.

  “I need to speak to Dureau.”

  His azure eyes bored into mine.

  “Very well,” he began.

  “Alone,” I added.

  I could see him composing himself. “Ahem,” he cleared his throat. “Very well.”

  I was impre
ssed. “You’re not going to go all jealous on me again?”

  “I can assure you, my darling tempest, that I have learned my lesson and I have learned my lesson well.”

  “Hmm. I’ll believe it when I see it.” I smiled at him and kissed him lightly on the forehead before heading for the door. “See you later, then.”

  “You are leaving now?” he asked as he turned his back on the map laid out before him and faced me fully. His expression was alarmed.

  “Yes. I won’t be long.”

  I could see him struggling to compose himself, and his jaw was tight. Almost as tight as his lips. Clearly, there was still some residue left over from the fact that Dureau had once challenged Sinjin for my interests.

  “Give Chevalier my best,” he said at last.

  I nodded and walked a few more paces towards the door.

  “Bryn?” he said, and I turned back to face him, a smile on my face.

  “Sinjin?”

  He cleared his throat again. “Do not forget you possess a quite astonishingly attractive and ravishing boyfriend whilst you are absent.”

  I shook my head and laughed. “I won’t, silly.”

  Poor Dureau looked like crap. I wasn’t sure why, but it seemed life wasn’t going very well for him at the moment. He had black circles beneath his eyes that spoke of his lack of sleep, and his hair looked as though it hadn’t seen a comb in far too long. His shirt had spots on it, and there were empty bottles of liquor all throughout Mathilda’s cottage. I could only imagine her chagrin over the fact that it seemed her roommate had developed a drinking problem.

  I had to find a way to help him, because this was the lowest I’d ever seen him. We sat opposite each other at Mathilda’s kitchen table. She’d discreetly absented herself. We both held steaming mugs of strangely scented tea.

  “What is this stuff?” I said.

  “ Je ne sais pas ,” said Dureau, in as unconcerned a manner as was possible.

  I’d noticed him slipping into French more and more lately. I was pretty sure he didn’t even realize he was doing it. I took this as a sign of his increasingly tenuous grip on reality.