Dark Warrior's Legacy

by I. T. Lucas

  “You smell pregnant. I didn’t recognize it at first because pregnant immortal females emit a different scent, and I don’t interact with human females enough to be familiar with it.”

  “So how can you be so sure if you don’t know how a pregnant human smells?”

  “I stood next to one in the sandwich shop across the street and then it hit me. I knew you were pregnant.”

  Oh, dear God, she couldn’t be. No way. It wasn’t part of the plan.

  Bridget was smiling broadly as if she’d delivered the best of news.

  “I can’t be pregnant,” Nathalie whispered, tears prickling the back of her eyes.

  Bridget looked puzzled. “You don’t want to be? Why the hell not? You’re not a teenager, you’re not destitute, and you have a wonderful man to raise this child with. Pregnancy is wonderful. It’s a miracle. You’re going to have a baby with the man you love! What could be better than that?”

  With a ping, the elevator came to a stop, and the door slid open. Bridget pulled Nathalie out and practically dragged her to the clinic. Once there, she pushed her into a chair and handed her a box of orange juice.

  “Drink. You look pale as a ghost. Though I can’t understand why.”

  Bridget seemed angry, as if for some reason Nathalie’s freak-out over the pregnancy was offending her on a personal level.

  A few sips from the juice helped, and Nathalie took a deep breath. She didn’t owe Bridget an explanation but she needed to voice her fears. “It’s not that I don’t want a baby, I do, just not yet. I’m stuck in a situation that I see no solution to. I have a tiny apartment above my coffee shop, which is perfect for keeping an eye on my father at all times but too small for the three of us to live there together, or for Andrew and me to have any measure of privacy.”

  Bridget shrugged. “So you need to move to a bigger place. I don’t see how this is an insurmountable problem.”

  Easy for her to say.

  But the truth was that things had changed a lot since Andrew and Bhathian walked into Nathalie’s life, bringing Jackson, who brought Vlad and now another kid. It was no longer just her father and her without any support whatsoever.

  Furthermore, moving her father from his familiar environment hadn’t resulted in the meltdown she’d anticipated. Fernando was fine away from the shop. Never mind that he thought they were on vacation in a luxury hotel. As long as he was happy, Papi could believe whatever he wanted.

  Perhaps she could just keep telling him that they were on a vacation—a very long one.

  Nathalie lifted her chin. “You’re absolutely right. I’m no longer alone with no one to lend a shoulder when I need it. The boys are practically running the shop, William is keeping my dad busy for a few hours every day, and I have Andrew.”

  Bridget crouched in front of Nathalie. “And you have all of us and our not too shabby resources at your disposal. An entire clan is eager to help you in any way we can.”

  Choking on emotion, Nathalie nodded. “I still didn’t internalize it. After managing on my own for so long, it’s hard to expect and accept help.”

  “Understandable.” Bridget pushed up to stand. “So, what will it be? Do you want Andrew to come down and wait with you for the results, or do you want to tell him after you know for sure?”

  A tough decision.

  On the one hand, she could’ve used the support; on the other hand, she wanted to spare Andrew the anxiety and stress. He’d been through enough. Besides, there was still a small chance that Bridget was wrong and Nathalie wasn’t pregnant. Why make a big fuss for no good reason?

  “Let’s do the tests first. I don’t want to tell Andrew and then discover that it was a false alarm.”

  Bridget cast her a disapproving look, but Nathalie didn’t care if the doctor approved of her decision or not. It wasn’t Bridget’s call.

  “Here, fill it at least halfway.” Bridget handed her a plastic container.

  In the bathroom, Nathalie did her best to aim straight into the cup, but it was easier said than done. Just another advantage guys had over girls. Mission accomplished, she closed the lid on the container, wiped it carefully with a paper towel, and returned to the exam room.

  Embarrassed, she handed it to Bridget. It wasn’t the same as depositing a pee container through a window in the lab’s bathroom and having an anonymous lab technician pick it up long after she was gone.

  Bridget took it with a gloved hand and walked to the other room. Nathalie frowned when she returned after a minute. No way she had the results already.

  “I want to wait five to ten minutes to make sure. But it might be too early for a urine test to detect pregnancy. If it comes up negative, I’ll do a blood test.” The doctor handed her a magazine. “To pass the time.”

  As if.

  She flipped through the pages while Bridget got busy with her laptop. After five minutes Nathalie could wait no more. “Could you go check?”

  Bridget looked at her with an indulgent smile. “Sure.”

  The next few seconds were the most nerve-wracking moments of Nathalie’s life.

  When Bridget returned, the wide grin on her face announced the test’s results, but Nathalie needed verbal confirmation.

  “Congratulations, you and Andrew are going to become Mommy and Daddy.”

  Oh, my God!

  Nathalie didn’t know whether to laugh and clap her hands or cry. Mostly, she was terrified.

  “Do you want me to call Andrew and tell him to come down here?”

  Nathalie shook her head. “I don’t want to tell him over the phone, and if you call him, he’ll freak out. He already thinks I’m carrying a disease.”

  Bridget nodded. “Do you want me to come up with you?”

  “No. I’ll be fine, but you can do me a big favor if you’d check on my father and bring him up. I’m sure William is tired of his company.”

  “I will. Now, chin up, and a big smile. You don’t want Andrew to think you’re upset about carrying his baby.”

  Nathalie grimaced. “I’ll practice in front of the mirror in the elevator.” She turned to leave then stopped. “I don’t want you to think I’m not happy. I’m just scared.”

  Bridget pulled her into a gentle hug. “I know. It’s going to be okay. In fact, it’s going to be wonderful, and I’m saying it as a mother and as your friend, not your doctor.”

  Nathalie wiped a tear when Bridget let go of her. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. You can’t understand it now, but you will when you hold your child in your arms for the first time. Nothing in your life experience can prepare you for that magical moment.”

  Chapter 9: Carol

  I found a job. I’ll be back at 6, said the text from Robert.

  Carol texted back. I’m so happy for you. What kind of job?

  Installing sprinklers.

  That’s great. See you in the evening.

  Carol dropped her phone on the bed and did a little victory dance. Not because she was happy that Robert had gotten a job, but because she was finally free of his constant supervision. Until now, even when he’d left the hotel room, she’d never known when he’d be back and hadn’t dared visit one of the fancy casinos in search of a loaded high roller.

  Freedom felt so sweet after being denied it for so long. Carol had spent her entire adult life doing as she pleased and answering to no one. Being shackled to a guy wasn’t fun. Especially a guy like Robert. Spending time with him was as fascinating as watching paint dry.

  She was sincerely glad for him; depending on her for money was making the guy miserable, and she didn’t like seeing him moping around, getting more and more depressed with each passing day. He deserved better, and Carol desperately wanted to give it to him, but without sacrificing herself and her freedom.

  Moving back to Los Angeles and arranging a job for him, maybe even hooking him up with one of her friends, was as far as she was willing to go to make him happy. She could also keep indulging him with fabulous sex, bey
ond the three months she’d promised, at least until she found him a substitute.

  Not a bad deal if she said so herself.

  He would be an idiot to turn it down.

  Except, he had a job now.

  Carol shrugged as she pulled her best dress off the hanger. Installing sprinklers wasn’t the kind of job that would make him happy. A guy who’d been the second in command for the sadist wouldn’t be satisfied with manual labor.

  She pulled on the clingy black dress she’d bought in one of the hotel’s stores and examined herself in the mirror, smoothing her hands over the stretchy fabric covering her feminine curves. She looked sexy, round in all the right places without crossing the line into overweight. Well, maybe a little, but this was exactly what men found attractive.

  Guys didn’t like sticks. They liked a woman who was soft and didn’t poke them with her protruding ribs or wrap bony arms and legs around them. Those tall, skinny models looked great in clothes, but not so great in the nude.

  A pink lipstick and some black mascara were all she needed as far as makeup. Pushing her feet into high-heeled stilettos, she glanced at the mirror one last time before stepping outside.

  As she walked through the crowded lobby, her hips sashaying and her blond curls bouncing, Carol felt the eyes of every male, regardless of age or ethnicity, follow her.

  She let out a breath, feeling like herself for the first time since her abduction. This was her gig. A sexy-childlike seductress was what she did best. She was irresistible.

  “The Wynn Hotel, please,” she told the cabbie.

  The drive was short, and as she entered the high-class casino, Carol felt giddy like a teenage girl in a shoe store. She approached one of the tables and started her usual act.

  It had taken less than an hour of schmoozing with the rich guys for her to realize that she couldn’t do it with any of them.

  None were attractive. In fact, she found most of them repulsive.

  Strange.

  Powerful, successful men were attractive even if their physical attributes left a lot to be desired, and she usually found the high rollers sexy because of their personalities and their wallets. That being said, she had some minimum standards in that regard.

  What she didn’t tolerate were vulgarity and rudeness.

  Yes, she expected to be paid, but she also needed to feel desired and appreciated. It was an integral part of the deal.

  “It’s been fun,” Carol said as she squeezed her target’s shoulder, keeping her ass out of his reach. His pinching fingers had no doubt left bruises on her soft derrière.

  He caught her hand. “Where are you going? You’re my lucky charm.”

  “I have to go home and feed my five kids.” Usually that line worked like a charm.

  “You can go home later, after I fucked you long and good.”

  Right.

  She doubted the jerk knew how to make it good for a woman. Flashing him one of her saccharine-sweet smiles, she patted his cheek. “Oh, baby, I was looking forward to a tumble with you, but it’s getting late for me, and I don’t want to interrupt your winning streak.” She tried to pull her hand out of his grasp while using no more force than a human female would.

  Evidently, the asshat wasn’t getting her elephant-sized hints. He pulled on her hand with such force that she landed in his lap. “Give me five minutes to wrap this up.”

  This was getting sticky. She couldn’t get off him without using her strength, and if she did, it would cause a scene.

  Carol didn’t want to do it, but the idiot was asking for it. Pretending she wanted to kiss him, she held his fat cheeks in her hands and looked into his eyes.

  Feh. It was ugly inside his head. Really ugly. The guy was a cheating, lying, abusive jerk. She was lucky she’d changed her mind and hadn’t gone up to his hotel room.

  With a wicked smile, Carol reached inside his mind and implanted something that was going to ruin his way of life but make it better for everyone else. From now on, whenever he considered cheating, lying, or being nasty to his family or anyone else, the guy was going to get severe stomach cramps.

  His face twisting in a grimace, he pushed her off his lap. “Excuse me. Nature calls.”

  She smiled and patted his flabby arm. “Of course, sweetie.”

  As Carol sashayed away on her spiky heels, she wondered what else she could do with her time. Shopping with the killer heels on was out. Maybe she could watch a movie. But going to the theater by herself was just sad. If she were home, she would’ve pulled out a new gourmet recipe off the Internet, whipped up a meal and invited a few friends for dinner. But there was no kitchen in the hotel room.

  On the way back, she stopped at the gift store and bought a bunch of new magazines and the latest Nora hardcover. Which was silly, since she read mostly on her phone. It was a bit of nostalgia, a throwback to simpler times.

  She missed the feeling of holding a real book in her hands.

  In the hotel room, Carol grabbed another shower even though she’d showered this morning, scrubbing herself all over and soaping twice. Just in case some of the jerk’s scent had rubbed off on her when he’d pulled her onto his lap. If Robert smelled another man on her, he would go ballistic.

  Carol snorted. For Robert, ballistic probably meant a frown and a grunt. She couldn’t picture him raising his voice to her, or anyone else for that matter. He was so mellow it was hard to believe he’d had the courage to help her escape.

  Still, one never knew. Immortal males were volatile and aggressive, even the more timid among them. Poked too hard, this gentle tiger might bite.

  That was why she hadn’t told Robert what had happened to those he’d left behind in the monastery. She knew he’d hated Sebastian, but it seemed he’d been on good terms with the others. Learning that they were either dead or semi-dead and buried in the catacombs in indefinite stasis, he might lose his temper.

  Not something she was going to risk.

  A little after six, she recognized his heavy footfalls coming down the long corridor, and a moment later his keycard opened the door.

  The man who entered was not the same man who’d left the room this morning. It wasn’t only the toothy smile he greeted her with; it was his loose posture, relaxed facial muscles, and fluid moves. She’d known his employment or rather unemployment status had been bothering him, but she hadn’t realized to what extent.

  “Hi.” Carol laid the book she’d been reading on the nightstand and sat up cross-legged on the bed. “How was your day?”

  Robert crossed the small room in two long strides and hauled her up, lifting her into his strong arms and twirling her around. “I got paid,” he said when he finally let her slide down his body and stand on her own two feet.

  Reaching for his back pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Here, this is for you.” He handed it to her.

  Taking it, Carol lifted a brow. Had he written her a letter? That was awfully nice of him. She loved getting love notes, especially when they sang her praise. But when she looked at what was in her hand, she realized it wasn’t a piece of paper but a folded check: Two hundred dollars written out to Carol with no last name.

  “I don’t understand.” She lifted her eyes and took in the look of pride on his face.

  “I didn’t know your last name so I told Don, that’s my new boss, to write my paycheck to Carol. You can add your last name.” He pulled another piece of paper from his other pocket. “Don came up with a great solution to my legal status. He is going to write the checks to you, as if you are the one working for his construction company. And since you are a citizen it solves his accounting problem. But you need to fill in this form.” He handed her the other paper.

  That could work…

  But wait, she didn’t want it to work. She wanted to go back to Los Angeles, to her home and her friends and her old life.

  Robert, like every typical male, was oblivious to her less than ecstatic reaction. “I’ll shower quickly, and we’ll go
out to celebrate.”

  Carol managed a smile. “Sure, honey, and in the meantime think about where you’d like to go.”

  Hopefully, he wouldn’t choose the buffet. She was getting sick of the greasy, mediocre fare.

  He dipped his head and stole a brief kiss from her lips before heading to the adjacent bathroom.

  Hmm, the smell of a man after a day of hard work was sexy as hell and it got her all hot and bothered. When he got out, she was going to start the celebration with an hour or two of wild sex.

  Dinner can wait.

  Chapter 10: Nathalie

  Nathalie paused in front of the penthouse door, took a deep breath, schooled her expression the way she’d practiced in the elevator, and knocked.

  Syssi opened the door. “You don’t need to knock. Just come in.”

  Nathalie nodded even though she had no intention of barging into anyone’s home without knocking. But that argument would have to wait for another day. Now she had a single task on her mind, and it was gargantuan.

  “Hi, sweetheart.” Andrew took her hand. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Healthy as can be.”

  His facial muscles relaxed. “Good.” He walked her over to the kitchen counter. “You have to try this cake.”

  Nathalie glanced at the small porcelain plate with a slice of chocolate cake on top of it and felt her stomach roil. Evidently, the pregnancy alone hadn’t been the cause of her bouts of nausea, only when combined with extreme stress.

  “Maybe later. I need to use the bathroom.”

  “I’m not sure it will still be here when you come back. I had to guard this last slice with my life.”

  “Then bring it to our room.” Andrew had just given her the perfect excuse for taking him with her.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Not letting go of her hand, he grabbed the plate and let her pull him along.

  In their bedroom, Nathalie closed the door, then led Andrew to the bathroom and closed that one as well.

  “Missed me so much that you couldn’t wait another moment?” With a smirk, Andrew put the cake on the counter and reached for her.