by I. T. Lucas
Her pleading to make it merciful had convinced Edna to reduce the severity of the punishment. With the help of Brundar’s venom, Alex had been put into his tomb already in stasis instead of suffering through many days until his consciousness faded. He didn’t deserve the mercy. It had been granted to his mother.
One thing was sure; any wistful thoughts Anandur had ever entertained about becoming a father were gone. Even if one day the fates smiled upon him and brought him his one true love, he wouldn’t want children with her.
Lana shrugged. “There is a saying in Russian about people making plans and God laughing at them. It doesn’t sound good in English. But you understand, yes?”
He nodded. “Shit happens all the time.”
“And good things too. I want to say thank you, Anandur. I know you helped us to get information, but I also know what you give us is more than it was worth.”
“You’re welcome. But the thanks should go to my boss. He was the one who came up with the idea of letting you run the dinner cruises for the hotel.”
“I know, and I said big thank you to Kian, and the others did too.” She chuckled. “He didn’t like the hugs and the kisses on the cheeks. Maybe we are not the type of women he likes?” she asked hesitantly.
Go figure women.
She didn’t mind that Anandur had been using her to get incriminating information on Alex, but was hurt thinking Kian didn’t find her or her friends attractive.
“Kian is a newlywed, and he has eyes only for his wife. You could’ve been the finalists in the Miss Universe competition, and he would’ve felt awkward about getting hugs and kisses from you. Besides, the guy is crazy jealous and hates it when any man even looks at his wife for more than a second. He would’ve exploded if some strange guy hugged her. So, naturally, he thinks the same is true for her.”
Lana sighed. “So romantic. I hope I find a man who will love me like this.”
Shit, now he was feeling like an ass. “I’m sorry that I can’t be that guy.”
She shook her head. “It was nice. Especially the sex…” She winked. “But I didn’t feel butterflies in my belly when we were together or cry when you were away. It wasn’t love.”
“Hm, butterflies and crying. I’ll file it under what to expect when falling in love.”
A pair of pale blue eyes pinned him with a hard stare. “You laugh because you never loved a woman. When you do, you call me and say; Lana, you were right.”
Chapter 44: Nathalie
“I’m starting to show,” Nathalie groaned, observing her profile in the mirror. From the front the change wasn’t noticeable, but from the side the bump was pretty obvious.
She smoothed her hand over her protruding middle. The seamstress was coming to do the final fitting, and she was willing to bet the dress was going to be too tight in the waist.
“Don’t be silly, your belly is just as flat as it was before.” Syssi waved a hand. “It’s all in your head. You’re a month and a few days pregnant. The baby is still smaller than an almond.”
Syssi was kind, but the scale didn’t lie. Nathalie had gained a pound and a half since last week. “My pants are starting to feel tight.”
Syssi smirked. “You know, when they say that you should eat for two when pregnant, I don’t think they mean it literally.”
There was a knock on the door. She was expecting the dressmaker, but it was Bridget, her other bridesmaid. Syssi and Bridget were getting their final fittings too. Amanda, her third, had gotten her own dress, which was fine by Nathalie. She didn’t want them to look the same anyway. They had agreed on a color, but each had chosen her own dress design.
“Hello, girls.” Bridget entered the master bedroom and closed the door behind her. “Why the sad face, Nathalie?” She sat on the bed, watching Nathalie’s reflection in the mirror.
“Just look at it,” she said as she rubbed her middle again. “The whole rush was so I wouldn’t show at my wedding.”
“Pfft, it’s probably gas.”
Syssi gasped. “Bridget!”
“What? I’m a doctor. Intestinal gas is natural and nothing to be ashamed of.”
Nathalie frowned, thinking about the burrito she’d had for lunch yesterday. Maybe she was bloated because of the beans? But what about the weight gain?
A muffled cellphone ring sounded somewhere in the room. Nathalie scanned for the source, but then remembered it was still in her purse. She’d rushed home to make it in time for the fitting and dropped her stuff on the dresser instead of pulling the phone out and charging it. The battery was probably in the red zone. It had been one of those days in the coffee shop, and her plans to leave early and avoid stressing over getting home on time had been thwarted.
Syssi tossed her the purse, but the ringing stopped. A few seconds later it resumed.
She pulled the phone out and glanced at the number.
It was Bhathian.
Her heart somersaulted in her rib cage. Did he have news about her mother? Had he found her?
That would be the best wedding present ever.
“Hello?”
“Nathalie.” His voice sounded gruffer than usual, and her heart sank down to her gut. Bhathian didn’t have good news.
“What happened?” she asked, choking on the words that left her constricted throat and went out of her dried-out mouth.
“Eva gave us the slip again. Someone else had been withdrawing money from her account.”
“Can’t you ask them if they know where she is?” What she meant was; thrall them to get her mother’s whereabouts, even if whoever was doing the withdrawals was reluctant to share that information. There were all kinds of rules governing who could be thralled and who couldn’t, but she was certain that these were extenuating circumstances.
“I did. Sister Juliana of the Casa de Martinho orphanage said that Eva donates her monthly salary to the orphanage and has been doing so for six years. They have a signed authorization.”
Nathalie’s legs felt wobbly, and she sat on the bed next to Bridget. “Maybe someone in the orphanage knows where she is?”
“I went there and asked. No one has any information about her.”
She hesitated only a moment before asking, “Did you make sure they were telling the truth? I know they are nuns and all, but they might be protecting her anonymity.”
“There was no deception. They really didn’t know.”
“So it’s a dead end.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Are you coming home?”
“I already have a plane ticket to Scotland. I’ll stay until then and just hang around. Maybe the fates will smile upon me.”
She nodded. “The fates already did. We found each other. Finding her has been a long shot. Don’t let it get you down, Bhathian. We have plenty to be grateful for, and we shouldn’t tempt fate by not showing our appreciation for the gifts we’ve been given.”
He sighed. “I have such a smart daughter. You must’ve inherited it from your mother.”
His words cheered her up a bit, and she smiled. “I love you too.”
She heard him suck in a breath and realized it was the first time she’d told him she loved him.
“I love you, Nathalie. You brought sunshine into my dreary life.”
Tears stung the back of her eyes. Papi used to call her his sunshine too. She was so fortunate to have two fathers who loved her.
“I guess I’ll see you in Scotland?”
“You sure will.”
“Goodbye, Bhathian.” It had been on the tip of her tongue to call him Daddy, but it was too soon. She still felt like she would be betraying Papi.
“I’m so sorry.” Bridget patted Nathalie’s knee.
With their bat-like super hearing, they must’ve heard Bhathian’s grim news as clearly as she had while holding the phone to her ear. There was no privacy with those people.
“Me too,” Syssi said. “Do you want a glass of water?”
“Yes, please.” Her mouth
felt so dry that her tongue was sticking to its roof and her words were coming out slurred.
Syssi left and a moment later came back with a tall glass of water. She handed it to Nathalie. “The seamstress is here. Should I let her in? Or do you need a moment?”
Nathalie gulped half the glass on a oner and hiccupped. “Sorry about that. Let her in. There is nothing like trying on a beautiful dress to chase a bad mood away.”
Bridget high-fived her. “When the going gets tough, the tough try on clothes. In my case it’s shoes.”
The dress was gorgeous, and her new plump breasts looked amazing in it. Question was, whether the snug waist would fit.
It did, but the seamstress had pulled the zipper up with difficulty.
Nathalie groaned, her belly muscles straining the seams to bursting. “I knew it. It’s too tight.”
The damn tears she’d barely managed to contain after Bhathian’s call were threatening to spill out. Her mother was not going to be at her wedding, and now she was also too fat for her dress. In a week, she was going to have a protruding belly, and her dreams of a white wedding would be crushed.
It wasn’t about hiding her pregnancy.
She didn’t care if the whole clan knew she and Andrew were expecting. It was about a silly girl’s dream of wearing a beautiful princess-style dress with big fluffy skirts and a tiny waist.
“It looks great,” Syssi said.
“Yeah, but in a week’s time I might not be able to squeeze into it at all.”
The seamstress, Mrs. Bella Shultz, shook her head and pushed her horn-rimmed glasses higher on her nose. “You need to be comfortable at your own wedding and not squeezed like a sausage. I’m going to let it out a little, but this is the last modification.” She pointed a finger at Nathalie. “I’ll bring the dress tomorrow. You’d better watch what you’re eating until the wedding. No beans, no cabbage, no cauliflower, not even bread. Anything that causes bloating is out.”
Bossy old lady, but she was right. From now and until she walked down the aisle, Nathalie would be eating salads with no dressing and dry chicken breasts.
Yum…
Chapter 45: Andrew
Exhausted after the long flight from Los Angeles to Edinburgh, Nathalie had fallen asleep as soon as they’d gotten comfortable in the limousine. At first the drive had been smooth, but as they neared the castle it had gotten bumpier, jolting Nathalie’s head, which was resting on Andrew’s shoulder.
If not for Syssi’s irrational fear of a helicopter ride, they could’ve already been at Sari’s keep. Frankly, though, he was grateful. Andrew hated the damn things. Then again, he hadn’t ridden in one since his transition so his weird reaction to helicopter takeoffs and landings might be a thing of the past.
He’d test it some other time.
Syssi hadn’t been too happy about flying the clan’s private jet either, but Kian had managed to convince her that it was just as safe as a commercial airliner. He must’ve believed that because Andrew would’ve known if he’d lied, but the truth was that flying in style was riskier.
The small planes weren’t as safe. Still, he’d chosen not to say anything, and neither had Brundar or Anandur. They either didn’t know or had preferred to keep quiet.
“I can’t believe the old man is still sleeping,” Anandur whispered from Andrew’s other side.
Nathalie had been worried when Fernando hadn’t woken up throughout the entire flight. She’d stayed awake to watch over him, checking every few minutes if he was still breathing.
“The sedative Bridget gave him knocked him out. It was a relief to see him wake up when we landed, even though he went back to sleep as soon as we got into the limo.”
“It’s a damn shame we only get to stay a few days. Most everyone is already there, partying and drinking.” Anandur leaned away, giving Andrew a little more room.
Andrew adjusted Nathalie, so she rested more comfortably against him. “Kian can’t leave the keep for longer than that. As it is, I don’t know how he has the guts to entrust its safety to the human security team. It makes me uncomfortable as hell.”
Anandur chuckled. “Safety is an issue for him when he has to protect people, not things. And all of our people are here.”
“True.”
“I heard the guys in the office threw a surprise bachelor party for you.”
“It wasn’t anything fancy. Just pizzas and beers at Barney’s.”
Anandur leaned in close and whispered, “What about the strippers?”
“There were none. To the horny bastards’ great disappointment, Barney refused to allow strippers at the bar.” Andrew could just imagine the tantrum his fiancée would have thrown if there had been naked women at his party.
“That’s a shame.” Anandur leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.
Absentmindedly, Andrew wrapped one long strand of Nathalie’s dark chestnut hair around his finger, then let it spring back and uncoil. Beautiful hair. Beautiful woman. She was going to be a magnificent bride.
He’d stolen a glimpse of her wedding dress when the seamstress had dropped it off. It was a huge fluffy number with endless petticoats, lace, and little pearls sewn all over. Nathalie had refused to let him see her in the dress before the wedding because according to some stupid superstition, it was bad luck.
Andrew wondered at her convoluted logic. She’d come to every fitting he’d had for his new custom-tailored tux, and that had somehow been okay. No bad luck involved.
Damn, his back itched, and he couldn’t scratch it without disturbing Nathalie. “How much longer?” he whispered.
“Almost there,” Anandur answered.
It seemed like they were climbing higher and higher up the mountains, the serpentine Highland road dangerously too narrow for the large limousine taking them up to the castle. It was dark, there were no lights on the road, not even the headlights of other cars, and the asphalt hadn’t been fixed in a long time, probably since it had been first laid. The road was so full of potholes that it was a wonder Nathalie could sleep so soundly, or that Kian could type away on his laptop.
Syssi was reading a book, her glowing eyes providing the illumination. Must’ve been an exciting story. It was just too weird. He was still getting used to the various quirks of their new physiology.
The limo made another sharp turn, and he had to brace himself not to slide over into Anandur. If he were still human, Andrew would’ve been anxious. But the limo’s driver was an immortal, and his eyesight and reflexes were just as exceptional as Andrew’s, probably better. He was in total control of the vehicle.
A few minutes later the road ended in a short bridge. Across from it loomed the castle walls, but the massive gate had been left open and the limo glided by, going through the inner wall gate and into the castle grounds proper.
The sprawling stone building was surrounded by grassy lawns and flowerbeds. Andrew was impressed. Unless those Scottish immortals had thralled some human gardeners to take care of their greenery, they must’ve been into horticulture.
He kissed Nathalie’s forehead. “We are here, baby. It’s time to wake up.”
She lifted her head and looked out the window.
Illuminated by a clear moon, the castle and its gardens must’ve been clearly visible even to Nathalie’s human eyes, but she didn’t say anything. Was she still sleepy?
“What do you think?” he asked.
“That I’m dreaming. It looks like something out of a fairy tale.”
Andrew chuckled. “I don’t know about that. I always imagined fairy-tale castles as gloomy and imposing. This one looks inviting.” Only three stories high, not including the attic or the basement he was sure a building this old had, it was wide but not tall. The windows must’ve been new because they were large and ornate.
Several people spilled out the front doors and rushed to greet them. He must’ve met all of them at Syssi’s wedding, but he only remembered Kian’s other sisters, Sari and Alena, and a few of the G
uardians who’d come back to help with Carol’s rescue.
Lots of hugs and kisses and a few happy tears later, they were escorted to their rooms and left alone to freshen up. Nathalie’s father was in a room across the hall, close but with no shared wall, thank you very much. Although with how thick the walls were in this old stone structure, the soundproofing between rooms was probably damn good.
“Look at this bed.” Nathalie walked over to the monstrosity that had stepping stools on both sides to climb onto it. “Why do you think they made it so tall?”
Andrew shrugged. “It’s Scotland. It gets really cold here in the winter. Maybe the further it is up from the floor the less drafty it gets.”
“I don’t think so. Not with this fireplace. You can stand inside it.”
Just for the fun of it, he did, then peeked inside to see if it was the genuine article or a modern imitation. It was the real thing.
He walked back and took Nathalie’s hand. “Come on, baby, let’s freshen up. They are waiting for us with dinner.”
Andrew would’ve gladly skipped the meal and jumped into the inviting bed for a quick romp with his beautiful bride, cuddling with her under the ultra-thick comforter and sleeping for a few hours.
But he couldn’t be rude to the people who had organized his wedding and had also paid for it. He’d argued that he wanted to cover at least part of it, but Kian wouldn’t hear of it. When Andrew had asked for Sari’s phone number, Kian had refused to do that either.
The fight over who would foot the bill hadn’t ended there. When Andrew had called his parents, his dad had thrown a fit over it as well. He’d said that he was happy that his two children had found the loves of their lives, but he’d insisted that he wanted to pay for the wedding. At least one of them.
He’d even demanded to talk to Kian.
His dad’s efforts had been just as ineffective as Andrew’s. There was no reasoning with his stubborn brother-in-law. His father had even threatened not to come to the wedding, but Kian had called his bluff.