by Tessa Dawn
The subject made Natalia smile. “I think it’s absolutely perfect.”
“You sure it won’t be upsetting or uncomfortable, hearing your mother’s maiden name, again and again?”
Natalia shook her head. “Laiseri Andrei Olaru.” She tried the combination on her tongue: her mother’s maiden name, Santos’ middle name, and Olaru, forever in the place of Giovanni. “Laiseri,” she repeated again, and the more she spoke the word aloud, the more the “S” rolled off her tongue like a “Z.” She figured it would be no time at all before they were shortening the child’s name to Zeri, but that would work just as well—he would have his own identity and his father’s namesake, as well as a precious piece of Natalia’s culture. So be it. It was perfect. “I’m sure,” she said softly.
Just then, a cacophony of noise filled the peaceful lake house: the front door unlocking and opening; two deep male voices echoing in the foyer; and two softer feminine lilts accompanying the males. “Saxson and Kiera,” Santos explained. “Ramsey and Tiffany.”
Natalia’s eyes grew wide, and she glanced down at her belly—oh, gods; was this how she was going to meet her new family? Well, at least formally—Saxson and Ramsey had already seen and protected Natalia that night in the Morrison meadow when Oskar had tried to assault her, and even before then, she had seen their photographs online, the night of the New Year’s Eve party at the Dark Moon Casino.
“No worries, Natalia girl,” Santos reassured her, seeming to understand her angst. “They understand what’s happening. Don’t forget; both destinies have already been through it—and they’re only here to help.” Sensing her continued unease, he explained a bit further: “Tiffany picked up a bassinette, some clothes, diapers, and a bunch of other necessities—the gods only know what—and Kiera came, as well, to help you watch the baby while I attend to the necessary sacrifice. As always, Ramsey and Saxson are here to get my back. They’re here to help with the dark twin and to watch over you, their mates, and Laiseri while I’m gone.”
Natalia gulped, trying to take it all in.
So this was really…actually…happening?
The Curse playing out: the birth of two twins—one light and one soulless.
She and Santos were really having a baby, and this bizarre, inexplicable miracle was happening…now.
“Santos,” she groaned, her voice sounding strained. “I think…I think.” She glanced down at her belly, which was rising and falling like a restless wave in an incoming tide. “I think something’s happening.”
A hulk of an Adonis with vivid hazel eyes and dark blond, chin-length hair shimmered into the bedroom and stood by the bed like a guardian angel, both fearsome and protective. He was careful to avoid eye contact and remained respectfully quiet while Santos stood up, inched closer to Natalia, and nodded in affirmation. “Ramsey,” he said by way of greeting.
The massive warrior inclined his head.
“It’s time, angel. Are you ready?” Santos asked.
Natalia’s eyes shot back and forth between the two brothers, and then she struggled to catch her breath. If Santos didn’t call these babies out of her soon, they might just stage a jail break. Yeah, it was definitely time. “I think so,” she muttered weakly.
Santos squeezed her hand. “You’re ready,” he reassured her. “Are you sure you want to remain awake…and aware…the entire time? You would not rather look away?”
Natalia shook her head.
Between her father, his associates, and his henchmen, she had seen the many faces of evil all her life, and she knew the damage a sociopathic, unredeemable monster could wreak on countless souls over many years, let alone over an eternal lifetime. She felt she was strong enough to see the dark infant and to never look back with regret.
Regret was living alongside the face of evil and not freeing oneself from its clutches.
“I’m sure,” she insisted.
Santos Olaru released Natalia’s hand; waited as his destiny steeled her courage and steadied her breathing; then placed his full, focused attention on her undulating girth, tuning into the energy of his children, both entities writhing in a bid for freedom from her enormous belly. He took a deep breath as well to calm his nerves, and then he began to gather the restless kinetic energy into a condensed stream of light. Two beating hearts thrummed in his consciousness as he began to murmur an ancient prayer, spoken in the primordial language of the Vampyr.
He called his sons from the confining cavity, commanding them to materialize before their father, and several bright prisms of light filled the lake house like a dozen shimmering rainbows, each undulating into a central arc above Natalia’s belly, while casting a glorious misty halo around the mattress.
A steady, hypnotic pulse filled the room, thrumming in even, mesmerizing waves of sound, and Santos drew the energy toward his center. “That’s it,” he murmured, tugging on each pulse with the whole of his intention.
Sparkles, like gold dust, began to gather and swirl at the tips of the sentinel’s fingers.
A funnel formed at the center of his open palms.
And just like that, the first of the two infants crystallized into physical matter, his soft, bare bottom nestling into his sire’s left hand.
Santos pressed the babe to his chest, cradling his son with large, splayed fingers.
Laiseri Andrei Olaru.
He had his father’s crystal-blue eyes, only with dark chocolate pupils; his mother’s perfect nose, with a well-formed little ball at the tip; and Natalia’s exquisite hair, complete with dark waves and silky, brilliant texture. Santos ran his thumb over the soft, downy tresses, his heart filling with wonder, and the child remained completely serene and still.
Without wasting another second, Santos handed the babe to Ramsey and stretched both palms over his destiny’s belly, maintaining absolute silence in the bedroom. To her credit, Natalia followed Santos’ lead. Although her eyes darted back and forth between her mate and their newborn infant, fortunately—and to Santos’ great relief—she was intuitive enough not to interrupt the delicate process.
The golden sparkles of dust, those that had recently illuminated the vampire’s fingertips, became an opaque, ominous vapor. The funnel became a murky cloud. And instead of the child’s bottom nestling into his father’s palm, a pair of sharp, jagged fangs latched onto Santos’ hand.
The warrior didn’t flinch.
Rather, he supported the dark twin’s stomach with his other hand, placing it firmly beneath the infant’s belly. A long, drawn-out hiss filled the room, and it was akin to fingernails scraping against a chalkboard.
Natalia gasped.
And Tiffany Matthews-Olaru shimmered into the bedroom as if on cue.
She had a soft yellow cashmere blanket held in one hand, and she immediately swaddled Laiseri, transferring the child from Ramsey’s arms to his mother’s without uttering a single word. She then placed her body between Santos, the dark twin, and Natalia, shielding the latter from the dark twin’s antics.
Ramsey stepped forward and pried the baby’s fangs free from Santos’ flesh. He stroked the infant’s jugular twice, using two firm fingers, and the hissing came to a halt.
“Take him to the living room,” Santos said to Ramsey. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
There was nothing more that needed to be said—there was no salvation for the child born of darkness, a malignant entity formed from a curse and born without a soul. No matter what the child might look like, act like, or seem like, he was evil—pure and simple—undiluted iniquity disguised in human flesh.
The Curse brooked no arguments.
And it made no exceptions.
Once again, Santos had to give his destiny enormous credit: She didn’t ask Tiffany to move; she didn’t ask Santos to show her the dark soul; she didn’t cry out or get confused. Rather, she turned her full attention on the cooing, swaddled babe, and greeted him with kisses and caresses.
“He’s amazing,” she finally whispered, the awe in her voi
ce transforming the disturbing moment. “Santos, he has your eyes.” Then she turned her attention to Tiffany Olaru and smiled with both relief and gratitude. “Thank you. I’m Natalia.”
The smart, beautiful blonde reached out to touch the baby’s hand and slid her pinky inside his tight, reflexive grip. “Congratulations,” she said softly. “I’m Tiffany, but you can call me Tiff or even sister.” She crooked her thumb toward the space where Ramsey had been standing. “I would say I’m the huge one’s ball and chain, but the way I see it, he belongs to me—not the other way around.” She winked conspiratorially, and Natalia laughed.
“Well, thank you just the same.”
This time Tiffany spoke more resolutely. “You’re welcome, Natalia.” She removed her finger from Laiseri’s hand and stepped away from the bed. “I’ll be just outside the bedroom door, along with Saxson and Keira. Call out if you need anything, no matter how small.” She turned on her heel and strolled out of the room as gracefully and unobtrusively as she had entered.
Santos approached the bed, sat down beside his mate—and his child—and placed a gentle hand on Natalia’s forehead. “You did very well, cara mia.”
She studied him in earnest. “I can’t believe…I just can’t believe it.” She stared down at the baby and choked back a sob. “I can’t believe this is real, Santos. A week ago, I had nothing, and now…look.” She shut her eyes to conceal two crystal teardrops, and Santos pressed a tender kiss against her lips.
“It’s only the beginning, my love,” he whispered, even as he knew that love—deep, abiding, soul-level love—would continue to grow in time. Yes, the gods had already seen to an inherent, unbreakable bond, sealing the couple’s spirits together the moment they were born, but eternity would offer them the chance to confirm that covenant and expand their connection—and he couldn’t imagine any other woman he would rather grow into deep, abiding love with. “I do have to go, Natalia, but I’ll be back within the hour. Are you—”
His speech stopped abruptly as Natalia sat up, swung her feet over the side of the bed, and laid the baby gently against a thick, fluffy pillow, watching for a moment to make sure his tiny body was stable.
“What are you doing?” Santos asked, as Natalia shimmied out of the loose, oversized nightgown, reached for a light, cotton tank top, which was crumpled on the nearby nightstand, slipped it over her head, and stood up, testing the strength and mobility of her post-pregnancy body. Unlike human gestations, a female vampire’s torso retracted very quickly. Natalia was already small enough to slip back into her clothes.
“Watch Laiseri,” she said, indicating the baby with her chin. “I don’t think he can roll over or bury his face in that pillow, but he isn’t human, so I don’t really know. Just sit with him for a second while I get dressed.”
Ah, Santos thought.
Of course, that makes sense…
Natalia didn’t want to be half dressed, clothed in a way-too-roomy nightgown that was sure to slide off her shoulders when she interacted with her new in-laws. Whether the others joined her in the bedroom or she took Laiseri out to them, she would want to maintain a modicum of decency and decorum. He watched as she slipped into the bathroom and re-emerged about thirty seconds later, wearing a soft pair of cotton sweatpants and a matching duo of comfortable sneakers. “I’m ready,” she said bluntly.
Santos smiled. By all the gods, she was so damn gorgeous, even after the last forty-eight hours. “It won’t take me long,” he reiterated. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“It won’t take us long,” she corrected.
Santos cocked his brows. “Excuse me?”
She raised her eyebrows to mimic his expression and mirror his confusion, but she didn’t speak a word.
“No,” he said firmly, finally catching on. “You’re not going with.”
She pursed her lips and tilted her head. “Yes, Santos, I am.”
He shook his head slowly…dubiously. “Natalia…”
“Santos.”
“Seriously, I don’t think you understand what this involves. It’s not something you should ever see or have stored in your memory. It’s not something I wish for you to endure.”
Her features softened then, and her stunning mocha eyes deepened with compassion. Nonetheless, she held her ground. “Ah, but is there a law against it? Does your king forbid it? Are females not allowed in the Chamber of Sacrifice and Atonement?”
Santos drew back, surprised by her question. “Uh, no…I mean, of course, they’re allowed. You’re allowed. It’s just—that’s not the way we do it.”
She pointed at his chest and then aimed the same forefinger at her own, repeating the process, back and forth, two times. “By we, do you mean you and I?”
His tongue snaked out to wet his lips, and he glanced over his shoulder to check on the baby. Laiseri was sleeping so peacefully, it was almost as if he knew his parents had something to work out, and he was giving them a quiet moment to do so. “Okay. I see where you’re going with this, sweetie, and I appreciate it. I do. But it’s—”
“But what?”
“Natalia, a rift between worlds will open up. There’s an actual ancient altar inside the chamber, and the Blood itself, in all its malevolence, will be there. The dark child will be taken…removed…swept up. It’s—”
“It’s what?” she interrupted, defiantly. “So much worse than living six or seven miles away from The Fortress, from human slavery and sexual brutality? It’s worse than what Oskar did to me in that meadow? It’s worse than being my father’s property, just an attractive armpiece to fool and appease the community? It’s above my what? My comprehension…my pay grade…my ability to withstand as a woman? It’s something you must endure; it’s a memory you will always carry—for me, and for Laiseri—but it’s not something you will allow me to endure beside you?” She placed her hands on her hips, not in anger, but in emphasis. “Are we in this together or not, Sentinel2000?”
Santos sighed in frustration. “ArabianNight500,” he murmured, realizing that this was the side of Natalia he was dealing with in this moment: the clever, strong-willed woman who could dig in her heels and keep them firmly planted, without budging.
She seemed to read his thoughts, or maybe it was just his expression. “And how did that work for you before? When you tried to stay three steps ahead of me in cyberspace? When you tried to break into my computer? When you insisted on taking—and keeping—the lead? Santos…” Her voice grew deathly serious. “I know that this has been hard for me, and I know that many aspects of this strange new world are frightening. And I even know that your every inborn instinct is to protect me, but I can’t go back to the life you just took me from. I can’t go back to being an armpiece, to existing in the shadows, to obeying without question or an opinion. I won’t go back to it, Santos. And I would rather face the devil himself beside you than to wait in your room…in our room…like a sheltered bird inside another gilded cage. I am twenty-five years old, and I’ve just discovered intimacy. I no longer wish to exist on the sidelines, and don’t get me wrong—I know this is a horrific duty, and I know that it will not be pleasant—but either you see me as worthy of supporting you too, of loving you too, or you only wish to possess me…like Luca.” She paused long enough to let the statement linger. “Which is it, Santos?”
He glanced out the window for a moment, staring at the lake, even as his heart constricted. “Natalia…cara mia,” he finally murmured, turning his gaze back to his destiny, “is that honestly what you think of me? That I’m anything at all like your father?”
She shook her head emphatically. “No, it’s not what I think of you, warrior. And that’s why this is so important. Let me go with you, Santos. Let us face all of this curse together. I need to know my new life is going to be different. I need to know that you trust and believe in me. And honestly, I want to be beside you.”
Santos held his breath for the space of several heartbeats, turning Natalia’s words over in his h
ead and weighing several internal arguments. He really did not want her to enter that chamber and encounter such a dark, supernatural entity, but he also understood the life she had lived—the absolute and unrelenting isolation—the way Luca had always marginalized her existence.
And he also knew that his destiny was strong.
Natalia Giovanni was a fighter.
A female chosen by the celestial gods to stand beside a vampire sentinel.
“Okay,” he whispered. “In this, I’ll relent.” He wanted to make it clear that there would be events, there would be issues, especially within his official capacity as a mercenary for the house of Jadon, that he simply could not…would not…allow his destiny to get mixed up in. He was not a human male. He was Vampyr. And he would shield and protect her, even at risk of her disappointment or anger.
But only when it was absolutely necessary.
He checked Laiseri one last time, reassured that the baby was still sleeping, and then he rose from his perch on the bed, closed the distance between them, and wrapped his arms around her, enfolding her tightly against his chest. “I do love you, Natalia,” he whispered into her hair, “and that love will only grow in time.” He pressed a tender kiss against the crown of her head and reveled in the warmth of her presence, the light of her being. “Since we’re going to drive, rather than transport, I’m going to ask Ramsey to come with us. I don’t want you handling the dark twin.”
Natalia slipped her arms around Santos’ waist and laid her head against his heart. “Santos?” she murmured. “I have a confession.”
He nuzzled her closer. “What is it, angel?”
“I love you, too,” she whispered. “Truth is, I have loved you for a very long time. Even before I saw your picture at that New Year’s Eve party—you know, the photograph of you and your brothers at the Dark Moon Casino, the one you quickly removed?” She laughed softly. “I fantasized about you long before then. Why do you think I sought out your avatar on iChat Platinum? Point is: I think I have always loved you.”