Obsidian Mask

by Scarlett Dawn

  Dad hugged me, smiling softly. “We’re not so bad, are we?” I knew he was talking about our family dynamics and family drama.

  I shook my head, glancing at my cousins and them. “No. We look like the Brady Bunch compared to his family.” I rubbed my full stomach and yawned. I had finished all of my food and I was exhausted. Sleep sounded pretty good, but I knew I still needed to review the articles of my competitors before I went to bed.

  Dad stared at me. “If you choose to be with him, they’ll be your family, too.”

  Katie stayed silent, but Mary snorted. “You’ll have four step-kids older than you.” Her mouth snapped shut when we all glared at her. That seriously wasn’t appreciated right now.

  Katie glanced over my shoulder and said quietly, “We better go.”

  Dad glanced where she was looking, and he slowly nodded. “Yes, I believe so.” He kissed my cheek, and suddenly, he was herding my mom out of the house, Mom waving a little startled as she went.

  Mary glanced behind me, and her eyes went unfocused in that way she gets sometimes and she murmured quietly, “What I wouldn’t give to paint him now as he stands.” Her voice was soft and so much older than her nineteen years.

  “Let’s go,” Katie mumbled, grabbing her arm, and herding her out the door even as Mary tried to stay, staring. “See ya later, Elizabeth.”

  I nodded, a little confused…until I shut the door behind them and turned around. Daniil was resting against a wall beside the staircase, his head down, hair hanging around his face. His ankles were crossed, and he held a cup of coffee that he stared down into. He looked alone. Like alone in the world as he stood there, there world heavy on his shoulders.

  I stood there staring, I wasn’t sure for how long, but he twisted the coffee cup around in his hand repeatedly until he tilted his head, his gaze directly on me. And I realized he was waiting for me. Alone in the world…and waiting…for me.

  The thought took my breath away, but my feet were moving before I even knew I was moving. Reaching him, I immediately grabbed his neck, pulling his face down to mine. I wanted to wipe that look off his face. It was helplessness in his eyes.

  I kissed him.

  His lips were soft and warm, and I licked them, tasting his coffee. He sucked in a breath and wrapped one arm around my waist pulling me in close even as he held his steaming cup away from us with his other hand, and he kissed me back, pressing on my lips like wanting entrance. I gave him what he wanted, and took what I wanted in return, holding him close and moaning against his mouth.

  We stood there for some time just enjoying one another until we both heard Artur mutter, “Go to a damn room if you’re going to do that.”

  Daniil broke our kiss, pulling back and glancing over my head, blinking at his son.

  It sounded like Artur sighed as I stayed where I was, gripping Daniil. It was odd having his children around to catch us. I knew a thing or two about evading parents, but not children—even if they were adults. Artur grumbled, “I don’t have a problem with you two together, but it doesn’t mean I want to see it physically happening in the corridor, Papa.”

  Daniil cleared his throat, straightening to his full height, and I slowly let him go, turning so I wasn’t really facing Artur or Daniil, but they were both in my peripheral site now. Daniil nodded, saying, “I understand it’s…odd for you…but I can’t guarantee you won’t see this again.”

  Artur started to say something else, and I held up my hands. “You know, I have some work I need to do before bed, so I’ll see you in a little while.”

  Daniil nodded, still staring at his son. “That’s good because I have a few phone calls I need to make to my businesses in Moscow, too. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  I left them to it as they both started speaking in Russian. They weren’t arguing from the sound of their tone, but Artur was clearly trying to get a point across, making Daniil look even more alone and even a little tired. I barely stopped myself from glaring at Artur. They needed to give their dad a break.

  Grabbing up my laptop from Daniil’s room, I went to find some solace since I wasn’t sure where Daniil would be making those phone calls. Even though he had a study, which was where I was headed, he also had a smaller desk in the living room area of his room. And that desk was a mess, clearly indicating he used it more than the one in his study, which had been clean of debris.

  Closing the door gently behind me, I went and lay down on a couch that was facing a black marble fireplace. I was tempted to light it since it appeared to be gas but decided against it since that seemed like taking too many liberties in this mansion I was only a guest in. Instead, I pulled a blanket over me and rested my laptop on my content stomach and began reading through the articles of my competitors, paying special attention to Micah’s stories.

  And nothing was there about Daniil and me, which I was grateful for. I guessed that Ugly Duckling had somehow taken care of that photo. Otherwise, he would have run it with the look he’d had in his eye. I yawned, and my lids drooped. I blinked a few times going to another paper’s website…

  …and suddenly, I was blinking myself awake, hearing music. Loud, obnoxious music. Staring blurrily at my black screen with the stars going off as a screen saver, I knew I had been asleep a little while. I closed it gently and rubbed at my eyes, wondering who the hell had come in here to play that god-awful crap.

  I scooted up and peered over the back of the couch, still rubbing my eyes. I blinked. And then rolled said eyes. Go figure.

  Ember lay in the middle of the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Of course, she would be the one to come in here and start listening to this junk. I sighed and started to roll off the couch. In her defense, she probably hadn’t even known I was in there. She must have come in after I had fallen asleep.

  But, mid-motion, I paused when I heard the door open. Again, my reporter’s nosy intuitive nature coming to the fore. I didn’t hear anything after the door shut, but a few moments later, the music was turned down.

  And then Grigori’s voice filled the air as he said, “I’m sorry I brought up our first kiss like that.”

  “I know,” Ember said back after a pause. “I’m not mad at you.” There was another pause, and she stated quietly, “He was right. About me and you.”

  “Yes, I know he was,” Grigori stated calmly, and the music cut off abruptly and it sounded like he was shuffling through something. “But, he wasn’t right about everything with us.”

  “I know that, too,” Ember stated softly. “We fit. And not just because of what he said.”

  “Yes. We do,” Grigori murmured just as softly, and I heard a mechanical sound, and suddenly Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol started playing over the speakers that were embedded in the ceiling. I heard him move across the room, and when there was silence for a few beats of this absolutely heart-wrenching song, I peeked over the couch again.

  I stared. And just about started crying—damn hormones. Grigori had put this song on, then went and lay down directly next to Ember. They both stared at the ceiling not saying anything, but the back of Grigori’s fingers were running up and down Ember’s hand and she grabbed his. And they lay there, holding hands, both silent and staring at the ceiling. Silently loving the other.

  Halfway through the song, Ember stood, and I ducked back down as she began hauling Grigori to his feet. I stayed there silent and realized I could see them in the reflective gleam off the marbles fireplace. They were slow dancing. Just holding the other, and moving together like they were made for one another. And I bit my lip, blinking hard to keep the tears at bay when Grigori lifted Ember’s chin with one finger, and slowly bent down, kissing her right when the lyrics spoke of the words ‘I love you’ not being enough to express how they felt. And together they continued dancing even as they kissed each other just as slowly as their bodies moved together.

  I stayed as still as possible, knowing if I could see them if they actually broke the kiss and turned their heads they would see me, too.
And I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to break this moment. They needed this. Healing one another even though it was frustrating as hell to know they didn’t realize it.

  And then…I was caught in another moment I didn’t want to be a part of—as Chasing Cars ended and Snow Patrol’s Crack the Shutters began playing, they’re kiss didn’t stop. In fact, Grigori lifted Ember, and as they continued loving one another’s mouths, he began walking with her wrapped around him to the marble desk. I closed my eyes knowing where this was leading.

  And I really did try to just listen to the music as items from the desk hit the floor. I even tried to go back to sleep, just picturing their soft moans and groans part of the lyrics to the songs that played. But it was no use. When you know people are having sex near you, it’s like your body automatically picks up every little sound they make or their bodies—dear God, eventual—joining makes.

  And even though the locale—the desk I would never look at the same way—was somewhat unromantic, it was obvious they were making love, not just fucking. Their words, when there were words, were soft and tender. Their loving unhurried and unselfish. The sounds of their breathing remarkable as one when—from the sound of it—they made slow love to one another.

  I stayed silent and kept my eyes closed the whole time…through so many damn songs and dozens of freaking pleasure filled moans. I just prayed they didn’t find me over here. There was only one door to this room, and it was too open an area to try to sneak out. So I was stuck.

  I yawned quietly when it sounded like they were nearing the end. Their pace didn’t sound like it picked up, but their breathing had become a bit erratic. At least, that’s what I was hoping that was about. It would be a little awkward if one of them went into cardiac arrest because then I would probably have to show myself.

  “I’m sorry I’ve never said it to you,” Ember whimpered quietly. “Because I do.”

  “I know, kitten,” Grigori groaned. “I know you do. You don’t have to say it.”

  Ember sighed on a moan, “Yes. Yes, I do. I always had this stupid thought about those words…” She paused, gasping, and whimpered again. “But it was senseless and childish. I know that now.” She gasped again and then murmured softly, “I love you, Grigori. I have for a very long time.”

  Grigori growled softly, almost sounding like a purr, and he breathed, “I love you, too, kitten.” Both their moans became muffled, and his voice was a bare whisper when I heard him say, “We’re both screwed up.”

  Ember chuckled, “Screwed up doesn’t even begin to define us.”

  And then, she gasped his name, and he groaned hers, and soft murmurs ensued between their panting and moaning.

  I was right, they were almost done, but I was still sitting there in shock realizing that two people could say they loved one another, and believe it, but not understand it wasn’t just simple love for another human being. These two were so in love with each other, it was like a bright pink spotlight shone down on them when they were alone—at least, they thought so—and were able to be themselves. Their actions. Their words. It was all there…except for damn common sense.

  Ember started whimpering Grigori’s name, but that abruptly stopped and she began chanting a keening cry, “Love you. Love you. Love you. Love you.”

  Grigori picked up her mantra—and the pace from the sound of it—groaning with her, “Love you, too. Love you, too. Love you, too. Love you, too.”

  Suddenly, skin was slapping a lot harder, and Ember screamed—I tried not to flinch—Grigori’s name. Their rhythm was hectic. Grigori was shouting Ember’s name—I tried not to baulk again. Ember was whimpering brokenly and Grigori was groaning deep and long. Sounded like they were finally through.

  I stayed quiet…and then, so did they, their breathing becoming steady and then rhythmic. Oh, they had not just done what I thought they had. I waited, praying they would make some noise of separation…

  …and heard nothing.

  Except for a slight snore starting up from each of them.

  They had fallen asleep on the damn desk!

  I tried not to groan. I was still stuck. They weren’t the heavy sleeper types.

  If I tried for the door, they would surely wake up.

  So I did what I could do. I fell asleep.

  Startled, I felt a sense of vertigo. I squawked, my arms flying out, but Daniil’s voice murmured softly, “It’s all right.” It was him lifting me, his arms that held me tight. “Go back to sleep. They’re gone. I’ve got you.”

  I groaned, resting my head against his shoulder as he started walking through the darkened study and out into the hall. “How did you know I was here?”

  Daniil chuckled lightly. “I have eyes all over my house. I can see everything if I chose to.”

  I stilled, a little grossed out by that. “You know what happened in there?” You watch your own kids get it on?

  Daniil kissed my forehead, walking up the stairs and laughing against my skin. “I said if I chose to see it. Not that I do. I have cameras all throughout the house for my own family’s protection.” He chuckled again. “And when I started looking through the footage to find you,” his arms started shaking he was laughing so hard, and I hung on afraid he would drop me, “Ah, Beth, you know curiosity can get you into situations you don’t want to be in, right?”

  I grumbled, “You don’t have to tell me that…but, I didn’t want to interrupt them. They needed that.”

  Daniil held me tighter. “I didn’t watch for any real period of time, just glanced at the screen to try to see if you were in the room. And, by the way, remind me tomorrow to show you a way out of there they might not have noticed.” He hesitated, and then asked as he entered his room, “You said they needed that—was something said?”

  I nodded, but I was thinking about what Daniil had said. There must be some kind of hidden door in that room. “Yeah, Ember said she loved him. He said he loved her.” Daniil’s face brightened in the room lit by lamps, so I shook my head. “Then they messed it up by saying they were screwed up. In essence still saying they weren’t ‘in love’ with one another. Really fucking wrong, if you ask me.”

  Daniil shook his head in agitation but sighed, laying me down on the bed. “At least they said they loved one another.”

  “Yeah, and they both agree that they,” I used finger quotes, “‘fit’ one another.” I snorted and then yawned. “It sounded like they fit together perfectly in more than one way.”

  Daniil’s lips quirked as I blinked sleepily at him. “It’s probably a good thing you were hunkered down on the couch like a frightened doe.” I scowled, because…well, that was just rude…and most likely true. And he had the nerve to grin, but he shook his head, pulling out my hair tie and set it on the table. “Those two together…let’s just say I did a double take. At the distance of the camera, at first, I thought someone had dubbed in you and me together, and I was looking at a phony frame.” His chuckled softly. “I understand why you found that all a little unnerving seeing them together before.”

  I nodded, and my eyelids closed, feeling more tired than I ever had in my whole life. “Yeah. Very weird.” I snuggled down in the blanket. “I gotta be up at six o’clock for work.”

  His lips brushed mine, but I was too tired to even kiss him back. Sleep took me under again.

  A week later, I finally sat in Dr. Wisser’s office dressed in a gown that opened in the front instead of the back. I tied it closed, but I still kept the tiny little blanket over my legs. Daniil sat in the room with me flipping through a magazine in irritation while my parents waited out in the lobby—probably also flipping through magazines in irritation.

  It had been an absolute chore even getting to the doctor, who wasn’t the woman my mom referenced a week ago. Daniil nixed that after running a search on the woman. Apparently, she had a black itty-bitty spot on her record for delivering a baby stillborn in her early years. Over dinner at my parents’ house on Wednesday, Daniil adamantly refused to let hi
s child be birthed by her. Actually, he wanted me to use a midwife. He believed a child coming into the word should be done more naturally. I just about smacked him that night at my parents’ house.

  Mom interceded and spoke of the risks that could occur with using a midwife, and just because his late wife used one for all four of her children, it didn’t mean that I was going to also. There had been a lot of growling and glares going on that night, but I finally just stood up at the table and stated, “I’m not doing a damn thing natural. So, find a doctor you do approve of. And quickly. I know I should be taking those pills…” I snapped my fingers, “prenatal pills or whatever they’re called.”

  Daniil seemed taken aback to realize I was behind on what I should be doing for our child and he finally agreed. So, now I sat in a doctor’s office posher than most millionaires’ homes—I was pretty sure the cabinet handles were actually gold plated—who Dr. Benedict from Donovan Hospital had referred us. Apparently, Ember or Grigori—not sure which—had called her and asked for the best OBGYN she could think of here in New York.

  And Daniil wasn’t thrilled because, apparently, Dr. Wisser was a man…oh, no, the horror…and my parents weren’t thrilled because of the doctors cost…which Daniil barely glanced at. My insurance at work would never cover the cost of this doc’s fees, but apparently, he was the best. And since I wasn’t doing the midwife thing, Daniil got me the best.

  And Dr. Wisser wasn’t late, either. I sure as hell hoped not with his fees. He strolled into the room—yes, strolled—looking very debonair in his white doctor’s coat, reading over what had to be my file since I practically had to write a damn book in questions about my previous health history. He had black hair like Daniil, but it was shorter and slicked back. I was pretty sure I saw a flash of green eyes as they skimmed my paperwork, his body in prime physical shape. And his face was very pretty for a man of around fifty—I tried not to snicker—right around Daniil’s own age. Though Daniil looked much younger than he did.