The Fifth Moon's Lovers (The Fifth Moon's Tales Book 3)

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The Fifth Moon's Lovers (The Fifth Moon's Tales Book 3) Page 11

by Monica La Porta


  “Too polite,” Lucilla continued. “Too elegant. Too soft-spoken.”

  “In a word, boring,” Vera finished.

  “I thought you couldn’t wait to be presented at court.” Mirella stood, signaling for them to resume their walk.

  Lucilla hooked Mirella’s arm with hers. “Sure, it sounded such a grand thing at first.”

  “But then, we realized how fake the court is.” Vera skipped ahead. “And those men are just… meh.”

  “She’s right.” Lucilla nodded. “I’d like to see some fire in the eyes of the man kissing me, you know?”

  Vera waited for them to catch up with her, then leaned in and brought a hand to her mouth to whisper, “The last who tried to lure me into the garden for a ‘bit of fresh air’ was so clumsy, he didn’t know what to do first, smooch me or try to slide his sweaty hands inside the lapels of my coat. I couldn’t help but laugh, and he took great offense to that. He then spread some rumors about me that I was not well mannered. Oh, well.”

  “If Mother were here, she would be horrified,” Mirella joked.

  “Good thing she is not, then,” Vera said with a nonchalant shrug.

  “How do you feel now?” Crea asked Mirella, changing the subject.

  “Much better.” Mirella also felt less drowsy.

  “I didn’t know your husband’s skills included healing.” Leave it to Vera to redirect a conversation always to the same topic. “The big bad wolf sure is talented, isn’t he?”

  “I’m hungry,” Mirella said instead of taking the bait. “I’m actually famished.” The realization surprised her because after a bout of strong nausea, she usually couldn’t stand the idea of food.

  “Let’s raid the kitchens.” Lucilla squeezed Mirella’s arm.

  “I need to go to my bedroom first.” Mirella looked up at Coral’s position in the sky, trying to determine the time. She had never liked to wear watches, but maybe a small bracelet with a clockwork sundial wasn’t a bad idea, especially if her memory didn’t improve. “I should have taken my supplements an hour ago.”

  Balenus had been adamant she should take the green and red pills at the same time of day, to keep the level of the vitamins steady in her system, he had said. She was usually good at following his instructions, but she had forgotten to take the pills with her when they left for the hanging gardens and then she had felt sick.

  “But I need to eat something right away.” Mirella pressed her free hand against her stomach, trying to suppress a loud growl. At the same time, her son rolled inside her belly, making her laugh.

  “It’s just vitamins. It isn’t the end of the world if you take them later,” Lucilla said.

  “I’ll fetch them for you,” Crea offered.

  “No need for that. I’m sure Lucilla is right.” Mirella doubled her pace, surprised by how good she felt, and how clear her thoughts were compared to a mere hour ago. “Let’s enjoy a good afternoon tea. Maybe Mama Bee has prepared some of her savory scones.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The afternoon sky was serene, and the absence of high winds facilitated Valentine’s flight to Adris.

  As usual, he used the traveling time to assess his life.

  So much had happened in less than six months, and he was still trying to get used to the changes. Among all the events that shook his existence in such a short time, Gabriel and Dragon had decided to stay. Officially, both men declared they would remain indefinitely to help with the investigation since the threat was against shifters and vampires alike. Unofficially, Valentine knew they wanted to be sure he wasn’t alone after Mirella gave birth to his son. After he came back from Sidera Prime and told them his trip had been unsuccessful, neither man broached the subject, respecting his pain. Their presence alone was enough to give him strength when he faltered in his resolve to be a rock for Mirella. The inevitability of Mirella’s fate threatened to strangle him, and there were times when he couldn’t breathe. At every dawn, his beloved wife’s birthing date loomed closer and closer, and his heart grew heavier with despair.

  Soon, Valentine had enough of pondering about his life and gave the accelerator handle a full throttle.

  “Let’s race,” he said over the rumble of his Desert Fire, looking at Gabriel to his right, and then at Dragon flying to his left.

  They both nodded. No need for lengthy explanations between friends. That was the way Valentine liked it.

  Thanks to the men’s aviator skills, they reached the Commerce District in record time, and in less than ninety minutes they were outside the Gentleman’s Club.

  “Be ready to use your persuasion,” Valentine said, looking at Gabriel, who nodded.

  Interstellar travel had changed vampires into daywalkers and suppressed most of the gifts inherent to their species, but they had retained super human strength and the ability to convince anyone to do their bidding. Persuasion came in handy whenever one needed to extrapolate the truth from a reluctant speaker.

  “And I’ll be ready to use my brute force if anything else fails,” Dragon added with a smile.

  “All right. Let’s do this.” Valentine pushed the carved door and entered the club.

  The exclusive establishment was only open to members, and although Valentine rarely frequented the club nowadays, he was one of the original affiliates, and as such he could invite guests at his discretion. They were welcomed into the dark paneled foyer by a surprised majordomo whose eyes doubled in size before he could ask them for their greatcoats.

  “Would you wish for something to drink or snuff?” the man asked, escorting the trio into the club proper. His pointy shoes clicked on the polished Carrara marble that was one of the club’s most notable features. Red and white veins decorated the crystalline limestone of the tiles, sparkling under the bright light of the glass chandeliers. Excavated and processed in the Carrara Quarries, the only two places on Lupine where those marble floorings could be found were the Gentleman’s Club and the Vestal House.

  “Something to drink would be perfect,” Dragon said, trailing fine, yellow soil from outside with every step he took. “I’m parched from the flight.” He patted his leather vest, raising a cloud of particles.

  “Red or white?” the man indicated the right hallway, his eyes nervously blinking as he noted the dusty footsteps marring the pristine tiles.

  “Red,” Valentine answered.

  “Red’s fine.” Dragon looked down at the majordomo who craned his neck to meet his eyes.

  “Do you have some Red Sarten, aged thirty-seven cycles?” Gabriel asked, following the man into a smoky room.

  Valentine wondered if his vampire friend ever partook of blood. Gabriel’s knowledge of wine sure was extensive.

  “We do, and it’s an excellent choice,” the majordomo said.

  He then accompanied them to a cozy corner by a large mullioned window that jutted into the trafficked street. Outside, flying curricles competed for the right of way with the slower gondolas on leisure rides. Inside, sofas and high-backed chairs upholstered in the club’s colors, burgundy and silver, circled a set of coffee tables and a buffet stand in the highly-decorated Terran style, all spindly legs and wooden inlays. High narghiles flanked the settees, the white and black water pipes a splendid example of the glassblower artistry of Lupine’s craftsmen.

  “Your beverages will be brought promptly.” With a nod, the man took his leave, and a waiter approached the group to ask if they desired refreshments.

  Motioning for Dragon to direct his large form to the sofa, Valentine elected a chair and relaxed against its high back as he studied the place. As expected, amidst a fog of white snuff, several merchants were smoking and chatting among themselves at the other end of the room, but when his presence was detected, a few left the group to greet Valentine and his friends.

  “Master Lobo, what a pleasure to see you here,” Lancets, an older merchant with a jolly countenance, said, offering his hand to Valentine, and then to Gabriel and Dragon.

  Slowly, th
e room’s occupants converged toward Valentine’s corner, and soon word that Master Lobo had deigned the club of a visit spread, drawing people from the adjacent parlors as well. Luck would have it that Vanni was among the crowd.

  Helped by Dragon and Gabriel, who split and steered the conversations away from Valentine, he was soon left alone with Vanni and a few of his friends.

  Smiling, Valentine locked eyes with the merchant. “Vanni, just the man I wished to see.”

  “Master Lobo.” Under Valentine’s unwavering scrutiny, the man paled, his hand clenching and unclenching around the stem of a flute. He gulped down his beverage. “You wished to see me?”

  “Yes—” Valentine let the incomplete sentence trail for a moment. “But I see that you’ve finished your wine.” Valentine poured some Red Sarten for the merchant and motioned for him to step closer to the buffet stand.

  Vanni didn’t move, but glimpsed over his shoulder at the hallway leading toward the exit. One of the men in his group was hastily retreating. Valentine racked his brain for a name, but he had seen the escaping man only once or twice at the coop meetings, and the merchant had always kept silent.

  “I apologize, but I was about to leave,” Vanni said, his gaze never meeting Valentine’s eyes.

  Keeping Vanni in front of him, Valentine cut a look toward Gabriel, who was seemingly engrossed in a conversation on the other side of the room.

  The vampire acknowledged Valentine with an imperceptible nod, and after patting his interlocutor’s arm, left the room in discreet pursuit of the nameless man who had just made a hasty escape. Dragon followed suit a moment later.

  “We’ll talk another time then.” Valentine lowered the flute to the stand and watched Vanni turn and head toward the hallway. He waited for the man to turn the corner, then excused himself with the merchants who had lingered close for a chance to talk to him, and left as well.

  Vanni had already reached the front door.

  The majordomo approached him. “Sir, let me call the wardrobe boy to fetch your coat.”

  “No need for it,” Vanni answered, looking behind as he shouldered the glass door.

  Making sure Vanni saw him, Valentine entered the restrooms’ foyer, then stepped back into the hallway and exited through the service door that opened to the right of the gaming rooms. Following the building, Valentine rounded the club until he was at the main entrance, from where he spotted Vanni, several meters ahead.

  Using his knowledge of the city and his wolf tracking skills, Valentine followed Vanni from lateral alleys and dark passages, without the man being the wiser. Yet, the merchant kept looking back, and his pace soon changed from a walk to a jog. A few blocks away from the club, Vanni was running toward the Royal Aquatic Park at a surprisingly fast stride for a human.

  Cursing under his breath, Valentine entered the crowded park and briefly lost Vanni, only to spot his skulking form slithering through the throng converging toward the hydrosauruses’ dome. The park’s most prized attraction, the marine mammals from Celestia always drew visitors, especially during the afternoon and evening hours when the cetaceans woke from their daily slumber and engaged in mating dances around each other.

  Valentine followed the trace left by Vanni and the vanishing scent lead him directly to the foot of the imposing glass globe. Floating in the weightless environment, the hydrosauruses, one male and one female specimen, courted each other, singing their eternal vows in their gentle voices. Accompanied by the animals’ high-pitched sopranos and bell-like rings, Valentine walked the entire perimeter of the enclosure, only to double the dome without finding the merchant. For a moment, Valentine thought he had a glimpse of the man’s head on the other side of the curved glass walls, but the brown mane was swallowed by the crowd when the male hydrosaurus produced a last note, then cartwheeled around the female, sending the spectators into a fit of applause and cheers. The multitude’s scents covered the merchant’s, and without visual confirmation, Valentine could only wait for the man to reemerge, but it didn’t happen.

  When the majestic animals’ dance slowed to a stop, the crowd dispersed enough to permit Valentine a better view of the surroundings. Even though the Royal Aquatic Park was made of flat fields and the occasional man-made hill, granting an excellent depth of vision once there wasn’t a wall of people covering the sights, Vanni had disappeared.

  Refining his senses, Valentine made a last attempt to catch a lingering whiff from the merchant, but there were too many smells, and his wolf was getting edgy. He ran back to the club where he found Gabriel and Dragon waiting for him at the entrance.

  “Where did you go?” asked Gabriel, handing him his greatcoat.

  Valentine summarized what had transpired, then asked, “Did you have any luck with your man?”

  Gabriel shook his head. “No. We followed him to the Vestal House where he asked for a meeting with the High Priest that was immediately granted.”

  With a long sigh, Valentine donned his leather coat. “Let’s go home. Nothing else can be accomplished tonight.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “It’s Mama Bee.” Crea pointed at the colorful cloud of whirling fabric walking through the garden path.

  The woman walked at a brisk pace toward the gazebo, holding the train of her long tunic, appearing and disappearing as the winding trail hugged the short hill.

  “She looks in a hurry,” Mirella said, squinting as she yawned, her limbs tired. She stretched her legs, then curled them to the side as she made herself comfortable on the chaise lounge. The gazebo cast a pleasant shadow over the settees, and the mild temperature was conducive to nap.

  After a fruitful excursion into the kitchens, Mirella declared she had eaten enough savory scones to last her a lifetime and proposed they return to the hanging gardens to while away the time before dinner. Even though Mirella had told her not to, Crea had gone and fetched the supplements for her anyway, so they didn’t need to stop by the master apartments. Mirella was grateful to her lady’s maid because she was too tired now to even contemplate walking back to the manor.

  “Mama Bee!” Lucilla stood and ran toward the woman.

  Mirella couldn’t help but smile at her sister’s energy and watched as she and Mama Bee walked the last stretch to the gazebo. The midwife dwarfed Lucilla, but the girl made up in exuberance what she lacked in the physical department. By the time they reached Mirella, it was clear that even the ebullient Mama Bee was tired of Lucilla’s constant chattering.

  “I was looking for you,” Mama Bee said to Mirella, swatting at an insect flying around her turban. Today, she wore a much subdued headpiece. No clockwork art decorated it, but just a long plume that had attracted the bug.

  Smiling at the woman, Mirella patted the chaise lounge. “Please, sit beside me.”

  As she circumnavigated the wicker furniture, Mama Bee’s eyes danced with her signature light. “Child, you are hard to find nowadays.”

  Mirella couldn’t help but laugh. “And here I thought I was the easiest person to find at Lobo Manor.” She moved to make space for Mama Bee. “I don’t think I have had a real moment of privacy since I moved here. Everybody always knows where I am. But I was thinking the same of you—”

  “And yet I seem to miss you all the time.” The midwife’s face darkened for the briefest of moments. Mirella only noted the change because the woman had never shown any dark emotion before.

  “How do you feel?” the midwife abruptly asked before Mirella could reply that she had been looking for her several times and she was always somewhere else.

  “Heavy.” Mirella waved her hand over her belly. “Tired. Nauseous.” She moved her weight to better position herself on the soft cushion. “But Balenus has already explained to me it’s normal.” Her voice rose at the end, making it sound like a question.

  Mama Bee’s eyes locked with hers. “He’s right.”

  Mirella exhaled in relief. It was good to have someone else confirm everything was normal. Lately, she was downplaying
her symptoms for Valentine because he tended to worry every time she so much as complained she was cold, but she knew Balenus would tell her husband, so she had started mincing her words with the medicus as well.

  “What are you taking for the nausea?” Mama Bee asked.

  “Valerian roots and wild sage,” Crea answered. She was the one who prepared the concoction twice a day for Mirella. “Balenus gave me the exact dosage, and I’m very careful to use what is needed and nothing more.”

  The midwife kept her gaze on Mirella. “Nothing else?”

  Crea frowned. “I sweeten the herbal tea with red lavender honey.”

  “Do you crush the roots and herbs yourself?” Mama Bee finally turned toward the lady’s maid.

  “I do. The ancillae bring me fresh ingredients every two or three days—”

  “What else do you take?” The midwife’s eyes were again on Mirella. The woman sat with her back straight and her chin high, the fabric of her tunic billowing around her legs when a puff of air disturbed the quiet under the gazebo.

  “Some natal supplements. You can ask Balenus what’s inside the pills. He told me, but I forget everything nowadays.” Mirella’s thoughts were foggy, and she yawned again. “I apologize, but I can’t keep my eyes open.” She lowered her head to the round pillow. “I ate too many of your savory scones.” Chuckling, she turned to the side and bent her knees to alleviate the pressure on her belly. “Baby’s waking up.” She pointed at the hard bump forming under the stretched fabric of her gown.

  Amidst coos, her sisters and Crea stood from their chairs to feel the baby. Only Mama Bee seemed unperturbed by the moving bump, but kept studying Mirella with her penetrating gaze.

  “Do you sleep at night?” Mama Bee asked.

  “If her husband lets her—” Vera said.

  Mirella blushed. “I rest peacefully.”

  “When the werewolf does.” Vera chuckled.

  “I imagine even Master Lobo must doze sometimes,” Crea said, then brought her hand to her mouth, but she couldn’t hide the smile curving her lips.

 

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