by Autumn Dawn
About the only ones who wouldn’t run from her were Casanova and Keilor’s family.
“I don’t understand him,” Jasmine confessed miserably to the obelisk from the overturned bucket that she was using for a stool. It said nothing, but it made her feel better to talk, even to the long dead and unknowing. “I mean, I wasn’t doing anything really dangerous.” The column stared back. “Ok, so maybe it was, a little, but why would he be so upset about it now? I’ve done stuff like this before.” Yeah, but nobody cared then, and you weren’t pregnant. She winced at that bit of inner wisdom and rubbed her face. This exploring the inner mind stuff was not fun.
In truth, she didn’t want to think about being pregnant. She wasn’t ready, and it was scary. A part of her thought that if she put if from her mind and went on like always, there would be no change, and she could forget, but it wasn’t working. That morning she’d gotten up and found herself unable to button her pants and the illusions had shattered. She was pregnant and getting more so every day. There would be a child, a tiny responsibility. An infant who would be helpless to stop her from hurting it, or from letting others harm it.
It was one thing to want a baby in the nebulous future and another to have one tomorrow. In the future she had time to become worthy of the task, to become a better person. Today the poor kid would be stuck with her as she was, and dang it, she wasn’t ready!
She got up and began to pace, enumerating her failings. She’d never changed a diaper, and she knew nothing about nursing. Babies got sick a lot, didn’t they? Needed shots? Clothes? A college fund? What was she doing out here, moping? There were a thousand details to see to, things to get ready for the kid’s arrival, and here she was sitting around, talking to a rock!
With a new sense of purpose, she collected the bucket she’d brought the jasmine flowers in, caressed the stone in farewell and hurried from the garden.
She had a lot to do.
Luck was with her. The first person she asked, her maid, had grandchildren, and yes, she was willing to let Jasmine visit them with her.
Her maid lived in a nice little cottage carved into the arm of the mountain, and her grandsons, aged seven and nine, adored Raziel and her Haunt escort. It was the four-day-old baby girl, though, that interested Jasmine the most.
“Her mother stepped out to do some shopping,” the maid explained when Jasmine arrived. She picked the blanket-wrapped bundle up out of its crib and pulled back a corner of the tiny quilt, exposing the sleeping face of the baby girl.
“She’s so small,” Jasmine said in consternation as she stared at the little one.
Her maid laughed. “She’ll grow. Would you like to hold her?”
Jasmine’s eyes widened. “Oh, no! I’d probably break her.”
The woman snorted and handed the baby to her anyway. “Nonsense. Simply support her head and her little bottom and you’ll get on just fine. Yes, there. Now have a seat in the rocker and make yourself comfortable while I go and make certain that the boys aren’t pestering your Haunt.”
A stab of panic flashed through Jasmine at being left sole caretaker of the child, but in seconds she was alone with the babe. The little one slept on, unconcerned. Taking courage from that, Jasmine nudged back the blanket and examined the infant’s hands, marveling at their small size. Her fingers were perfect, the nails exact replicas of an adult’s, but so very tiny!
At that moment, it finally hit her. That was what her own baby was like, growing inside of her. Wonder blossomed in her heart, and a fierce protectiveness. Was that what had scared Keilor so, the thought that she was risking his baby so heedlessly? Shaken, Jasmine closed her eyes, feeling lower than low. It wasn’t just her body anymore, was it? She was sharing it with a little one like this, whether she was ready or not. Everything she did from here on out was going to affect it.
Near tears, she carefully laid the little one back in her crib and found her hostess, thanked her for letting her hold the child and quickly took her leave.
She had a lot of thinking to do.
Keilor came home that night, smelling of sultry forest and wild air. He showed up just as she was getting ready for a solitary dinner, striding in with his hair loose and a volti at his heels.
Jasmine’s eyes got wide and she scrambled up on her chair, kneeling on the cushion and peering over the chair back. Casanova ran under the table, hiding behind her.
A half smile turned up the corner of her husband’s mouth. “She won’t eat either of you. Terza is here to protect you.”
Not a bit reassured, Jasmine peered at the huge creature who watched her with smirking and far too-intelligent amusement. “Uh, what happened to Raziel and Isfael, and the rest of the bodyguard?” she croaked through a dry throat. “They were doing a pretty good job, I thought.”
His eyes cooled. “Terza has offered to take their place. They will no longer be needed.”
Terza yawned, exposing a mouthful of fangs, and licked her chops. She snapped her jaws shut with a snap and a small snarl. Her far too-human eyes mocked her new charge’s fear.
Jasmine swallowed. They understood each other.
Like some enormous house pet, Terza stretched out by the fireplace, roasting herself at its heat. A spicy wild smell wafted from her coat to permeate the room, scenting the air with exotic danger. The same scent clung to Keilor as he moved closer with an innately sensual grace.
Jasmine’s eyes dilated, and her body grew languid and weak, hungry for him. “What did you do?” she whispered as passion fogged her brain. Was this what he felt around her?
Lightning zinged from his touch, scorching her. “You’re not the only one who can inspire passion, wife.”
Far into the night, he proved his claim, and Jasmine reveled in his possession.
Morning came too quickly, and with it, responsibilities.
“I’m sorry, Keilor.” Jasmine rolled up on one elbow and regarded her doubtful bed mate. “I have been too reckless lately, and...” She gritted her teeth, made herself say it. “...selfish. You don’t need to sic the volti on me. I’ve already decided to mend my ways.”
“She stays,” he said, flinging the mussed covers off and getting up. Sun-lit dust motes danced around his lean body with distracting glee. “Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.”
Expelling a breath of frustration, Jasmine got up and threw on her clothes. “You’re determined not to trust me, aren’t you? All right, fine. I’ll just have to prove it to you.”
“I’ll welcome your efforts,” he said in the grim tone of a man who was hearing an empty promise. “What would you like for breakfast?”
The rest of the morning did not go any better. Jasmine asked for his opinions regarding the baby crib and gear, and he politely offered her his thoughts, giving her his full attention before returning to his paperwork. Until she mentioned going to see if Leo would like to go shopping.
“She would not,” he answered, not looking up from the document he was examining.
“I beg your pardon?”
He laid aside his pen. “You are restricted from seeing her without Jackson or myself present until after your pregnancy. Then you may do as you wish.”
Jasmine put her hands on her hips. “Are you telling me I’m grounded?” she asked, almost more amused than annoyed. “Aren’t I a little old for that?”
“I could lock you in your room.”
Tilting her head, she mocked, “Ah, well, glad to see you’re not completely lost to reason. I would stay away from her big symbiont, you know.”
“I know you will,” he answered, implacable. He stroked the end of his pen against his fingers, waiting for her to lose her temper.
It was a very close thing, but she mastered it, stuffing it away until she could deal with it in private. “All right. I’ll see you later.”
He raised a brow, mildly surprised when she closed the door without slamming it, and that she only frowned a little at Terza, who padded after her.
Sitting back in his padded desk chair, Keilor contemplated the door. His brief absence while he mastered his temper seemed to have chastened his recalcitrant wife more than he would have expected. For all that he knew, she might even mean her words of repentance.
Unfortunately, he doubted it. Whatever the reasons for her carelessness, he’d had enough nerve wracking experiences lately that he was taking no more chances. Hence, Terza. Not only would no one dare to cross a volti in her prime, but a volti was one creature that he never had to worry about Jasmine charming into complacency.
He had another reason for accepting her offer of assistance, however. Yesande was on the move, and had even dared to brush the borders of volti patrolled forest, tempting death with reckless presumption. Raziel and Isfael were needed elsewhere, and since he couldn’t be at Jasmine’s side constantly, Terza was the next best thing.
Of course, the best thing would be for Jasmine to exercise some caution and common sense, but since that was unlikely to happen....
He was a little encouraged by her visit to see her maid’s grand-baby. Raziel had said she’d looked shaken, so perhaps she was finally beginning to realize the seriousness of her responsibilities. Or not.
With an oath, he grabbed another paper and got back to work. Time would tell him soon enough whether or not she’d really changed.
“What the heck is that?”
Jasmine glanced sourly at her silent shadow, who’d followed her into the gardens where Rihlia had been taken to get some air. Hellish eyes full of golden fire stared back at her from the shade of a tall hedge. “My newest nanny, Terza the Terrible. Why, don’t you like her?”
A low, rumbling growl came from the beast, and Rihlia’s eyes widened. “I don’t think you ought to bait her, Jas.”
She sniffed. “Keilor should have thought of that before he sicced her on me. After all, he’s the one so concerned about me taking risks. It would serve him right if he found her snacking on me.” Remorse stabbed her the moment she’d said it, and her friend’s horrified expression didn’t help. “I didn’t mean that,” she sighed. “Just ignore me. You know how I get when I’m mad about something, and this infernal bitchiness I’ve felt ever since I got pregnant—no offense,” she said, widening her eyes with arch disrespect at the volti, “is driving me crazy. And now that Keilor’s all but said that he doesn’t trust me to be careful of the baby....”
“Can you blame him?” Rihlia broke in. “I’d have killed you if I’d been him.”
Jasmine winced. Close friendships had their drawbacks.
“You don’t take those kind of risks with a baby, Jas, ever.”
“I wasn’t thinking of it like that, not then. It was only yesterday that I finally realized that I wasn’t just pregnant, I was carrying a baby.”
Rihlia stared at her. “I just know I’m going to be fascinated by this explanation.”
Jasmine leaned forward. “The day before last I had a condition. Yesterday it finally dawned on me that my condition was a baby.”
Rihlia blinked. “Sometimes I try to figure out how your mind works, Jas. Other times I’m a little smarter and decide to give it up.” She shook her head as if ridding it of a bad dream. “Have you explained any of this to your poor husband?”
Plucking a leaf from the hedge, Jasmine started to shred it. “I don’t think it would matter right now. He’s pretty well convinced that I’m a reckless fool up to no good. I think the hang glider stunt really shook him up.”
A snort of amusement escaped Rihlia, but she didn’t take the bait. “Have faith. Even reckless fools can change. Heck, before you came here you thought that shaking hands during flu season was taking an awful risk. I have faith that you’ll revert back to normal in no time.”
“A phase, huh?” Jasmine asked doubtfully. She shrugged. “Well, that’s as good of an explanation as any. I promise you though, I’m through taking risks, and this time I mean it. From now on, it’s the straight and narrow path for me, all the way.”
Chapter 17
Virtue was very boring.
Jasmine caught her attention wandering again and yanked it back to Sousa, her domestic instructor, who was teaching her how to make an almond cream sauce from the seafood they’d just laboriously cooked and shelled. It was fascinating, really. It was just that her difficult husband had just entered his glassed in office with Raziel and Jackson, and she really couldn’t pay attention to something as mundane as cooking when something so interesting was going on across the room.
Keilor looked up, saw her, saw that she wasn’t paying attention to Sousa, and gestured to Raziel. The shades came down, blocking Raziel’s amused face and leaving her nothing to stare at.
“I raise my bet two more prismatic silver.” Raziel said, turning from the closed blinds. “She’ll never last the week.”
Keilor snorted, drawing another folded map forward and opening it. “Two weeks. I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt.”
“I have doubts that my sister will last as long. Already I’ve caught her twice sneaking off towards the rooftops with her symbiont, seeking to go scouting for Yesande,” Jackson muttered. “Regardless, tomorrow is the day that she purges the pheromone from her system, and we can’t stay much longer. I do not like the reports from home.” He did not share what might be in those reports, and no one asked.
“You will not need to,” Keilor assured him, spinning the map so that he could see. “We have found her camp, and it is not farther than a day’s ride from here. We would have taken it already, except that she is not in it.”
“A decoy.”
“Yes.” Keilor pointed to the map, drawing his finger across two routes. “The only roads past the volti are on this river here, and over these mountains here. The mountains are treacherous, especially with the storm season coming, but if Yesande could master them and get out with her prize, no one could come after her until after the storms. Should she dare the river, she’ll have to contend with the water beasts, as well as row upstream.”
Jackson shook his head. “Unlikely, even with a symbiont boat. You’re focusing on the mountains?”
“We are. Isfael and Mathin are out there right now. I only wish Fallon hadn’t gone off on business again. We could use him right now.”
Raziel snorted. “What business is it that takes him away for weeks at a time, just when he could be of the most use?”
“Family business,” Keilor said, staring his friend down. He was well aware of Raziel’s opinion of Fallon as useless for anything other than entertaining women, but Raziel was ignorant of several important facts. He couldn’t share those facts, even with one of his best friends, but he wasn’t about to let his cousin be slandered.
Raziel broke eye contact first, mostly out of politeness. “You would know. About those mountains, though. We estimate that Yesande has twenty men with her, give or take one or two. Whatever she plans, you can depend upon it, she already has help lined up inside this citadel. How are we going to combat that?”
Before Keilor could answer, there came a knock on the door. “Come.”
Jasmine opened the door, balancing a tray bearing tiny cookies with one hand. “Thought you might be getting hungry,” she said with an innocent smile.
“How thoughtful. Thank you.” Keilor came around the desk, a suspicion of humor twitching at his lips, took the tray, and then remained blocking the doorway. “Dinner smells delicious, too. I’m looking forward to it.”
When he refused to budge, her eyes narrowed. “You’re welcome,” she said, and then very, very carefully shut the door with a soft click.
Raziel took a cookie and popped it into his mouth with a grin. “One week, ha! I’ll have my money tomorrow, my friend, and you’ll be that much the poorer.”
Keilor only smiled.
Later that evening, as he watched his virtuous wife nearly bite her tongue off during dinner to prevent herself from asking about his meeting, he had to admit that he was enjoying this little contest of wills. Wild cur
iosity was such a part of her nature, and suppressing it was clearly killing her. Just for the thrill of it, he’d been prolonging her suspense, but now he took pity on her. “Yesande is near. We were making plans to ensure her capture and the safety of yourself and Leo.”
Her head snapped up. “Yeah?” Her eyes sparkled with questions, and he could see her holding her breath.
Laughing, he tossed down his napkin and moved to her side, taking her hand and pulling her up and into his arms. “You’re trying too hard.” Offended, she scowled and tried to pull away, but he had a secure hold on her. “Not that I haven’t been impressed, mind you, but I don’t like to see you suppressing yourself like this.” When she stared at him, unsure, he smiled and stroked the hair at her temples. “I want you to be yourself, Dragonfly. Do the things you love to do, just do them safely for our baby’s sake. Do you see? Can you do what I am asking?”
Wounded, she answered, “I said I would, didn’t I?”
“Yes.” He kissed her lightly. He lingered, teasing at her lips. “You did,” he murmured, distracted.
She pulled away, a bit breathless, and demanded, “What about Yesande?”
“We will take care of Yesande when she comes,” he reassured her, meaning his warriors and himself, but avoiding an argument by letting her think she would be included for now. When she still looked troubled, he led her to the couch, sitting down and arranging her on his lap. “I assure you that I will not be taken unawares twice, wife of mine. You will be as safe as the Master of the Hunt and a citadel full of soldiers can make you.”
Jasmine smiled. “I’m sorry, I just get worried. Every time that I think about—”
He touched her lips, silencing her. “I feel it, too, Dragonfly. But don’t let the past rule you. You are safe, here and now, and I am here and whole. We will win this time, I promise you.” He kissed her hand, offering comfort and support. When she nuzzled into his touch, seeking more, he slid down on the couch, prepared to deliver.