Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS

by Christine Feehan

  Desari glanced at Julian. His amber eyes seemed to glow as he stepped forward to put his hand on the prince’s shoulder. He looked very much a warrior, and she couldn’t help that small rush of pride in him.

  “We grow stronger too, Mikhail. Under your leadership, we have come together when before we were scattered and apart. You have worked tirelessly to get the word to any of our ancients, to continue to look for any lost as Desari and the others had been.”

  “The women are reluctant to become pregnant and give birth,” Mikhail pointed out, shaking his head. “Without children, Julian, no matter our longevity, our species will not survive.”

  Desari smiled at him. “We will survive. This is the season of miracles, remember? I thought you were a believer, Mikhail. Where is your faith?”

  There was a small silence. The hard lines in the prince’s face softened. “Perhaps this celebration of Raven’s is just the thing I need to restore my faith, Desari.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully. “Should Josef decide to give us his rendition of any carol, please do volunteer to sing. Is it possible your dancing notes can muzzle the boy?”

  “Josef’s reputation preceeds him,” Desari said with a laugh. “I understand he’s quite a handful.”

  “Let us just say I do not envy Byron and Antonietta trying to keep an eye on the boy. They say he is quite intelligent, but not very diligent when it comes to mastering any of our practices. I think he has been spoiled and allowed to mix so much with human children that he has forgotten his duty to our people.”

  Julian flashed Desari a secret smile at the sternness in Mikhail’s voice. As a child, he’d often heard that same edge to the adult male’s tones. “He will grow to a fine man,” Julian assured him. “Perhaps not a hunter, but we need our society to return to progress once more. We need men who look to business and the arts and especially science.”

  “I have no doubt Josef will succeed in anything he does,” Mikhail said dryly. “But the rest of us may not survive his youth.”

  “I seem to recall Gregori said the same thing about me—many times.” Julian grinned at him, his strange-colored eyes glinting like gold. “The man needs a sense of humor. Now, I am his brother-in-law. Fate has a way of playing little jokes.”

  A slow answering smile lit Mikhail’s face. “I must confess, Julian, I did not think of that at all. His brother-in-law. He is also my son-in-law and as I am Dear Old Dad, I think it is time the man performed some family duties. He will be perfect in the part of Santa Claus tonight.”

  Julian’s eyebrow shot up. “My prince.” He bowed low. “I acknowledge you as the master in this game we so often play with the Dark One.”

  Desari looked from one man to the other. “I can’t imagine you asking Gregori to be Santa, and if Julian is endorsing it, that’s a bad thing.”

  “I see she knows you well, Julian,” Mikhail observed.

  Desari rested her head on Julian’s chest. “Was he the resident bad boy growing up? I can well imagine that he would have been.”

  Mikhail shook his head. “In de pen dent. A smart mouth. He loved knowledge and had little fear in him. But no.” He frowned. “There was a young man, a few years older than Julian, who Gregori had to stay on top of all the time. He was far worse than Josef could ever conceive of being. He questioned authority all the time.”

  “I remember him,” Julian said. “He was amazing with weapons even as young as he was. Tiberiu Bercovitz. I haven’t heard or thought of him in centuries. Did he come to the celebration? He was good friends with Dimitri.”

  There was no real inflection in Julian’s voice, but Mikhail caught a flare of wariness in the hunter’s eyes. The man shifted subtly, but protectively toward his lifemate.

  “This is what our lives have become,” Mikhail murmured aloud. “We can no longer trust our friends, men who have dedicated their lives to honor, to saving Carpathian and human alike. We treat our best hunters with suspicion.”

  “It is the way we have always lived,” Julian remarked.

  Mikhail shook his head. “There was a time, Julian, long ago, when only nature balanced us. There was harmony and peace in our world and we held celebrations such as this one often.”

  “And we are holding one this night,” Desari pointed out. “A unique reunion with all Carpathians welcome to participate, celebrating strengthening our friendship with each other as well as our human friends. We have not done so in centuries. It sends a message to our people that we are once again united, and a message to our enemies that we are strong together, and will continue to grow stronger. It is a start, don’t you think? You have given us that gift, Mikhail.”

  A small smile teased at the curve of the prince’s mouth. “Raven has given us that gift. Carpathians never celebrated Christmas before, but she used this time of year as an excuse to bring us all together. I thought she was wrong—but I see that I was.”

  “We have the chance to get to know one another,” Desari said. “My family, well, not the Daratrazanoff s or my lifemate Julian, I mean our band—the Dark Troubadours—was not raised with other Carpathians, and this is truly a unique opportunity for us. We didn’t even use the same common mental path as all of the rest of the Carpathians.”

  “Your brother, Darius, is truly a miracle worker in that he kept so many young children alive when he was merely a babe himself. Shea and Gregori wanted to meet with him to discuss the various herbs and plants he used to keep so many of you alive.”

  Desari nodded. “All three of them have been together until the early morning hours since we’ve arrived. I think it is only today that the others have taken a break from research to cook. I heard Shea was not feeling very well. She must be so frightened to be having a baby when our infant-mortality rate is so high.”

  She flicked a quick glance at Julian, who tried to catch her eye, but she refused to meet his gaze. Julian reached out his hand and took hers, bringing her palm to his heart. If you choose not to get pregnant this night, so be it, Desari. I would never take away your choice.

  Desari turned her head away from the prince, blinking back tears, rubbing her cheek along Julian’s shoulder as she did so. I do not know if this year is special or if returning to our homeland has caused a leap in fertility, but many of the women have said they can get pregnant, though few wish to try.

  Desari, we will have children when you are ready. If the miracle happens, and I believe it will, it is meant to be. If not… Julian shrugged his shoulders and sent her a wealth of love and reassurance. So be it. He was not a man to follow the path of others. If Desari didn’t want to chance the heartbreak of losing children, he was not going to take her to task, or point out her duty to their people.

  Desari smiled at him. She knew he would never pressure her, and she loved him all the more for his patience—for his complete faith in her.

  “Julian, I ask again that you reach out to Dimitri,” Mikhail said. “I am on my way to speak with Darius. I wish to question him more on how he kept you all alive.”

  Julian nodded in agreement, and watched as Mikhail shimmered into transparency and streamed upward through the snow toward the house Darius had chosen to stay in. He dropped his arm around Desari’s shoulders, sweeping her long hair away from her neck. “We are actually alone.”

  A slow smile teased the curve of her mouth. “Really?” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “We may be alone, but since you ruined my contribution to tonight’s feast, I have to cook. Or better yet, you should do the cooking.”

  His golden eyes gleamed at her. “I would very much like to oblige.” He swept her into his arms, tossing her over his shoulder as if she weighed no more than a feather, and sprinted for the house.

  “Julian! You savage!” She gripped him around the waist as he vaulted over the railing and kicked open the front door. “Stop being a caveman.”

  “Ha ha ha.” He brought his hand down on her squirming bottom as he strode through the house toward the bedroom. “As I recall, technically you
are a Savage as well.”

  She laughed and deliberately wrapped her arms around his waist, fingers sliding over the front of his jeans in a stroking caress. The action distracted him immediately so that he nearly stumbled, losing his long strides. Desari took the opportunity to dissolve, leaving him holding empty air as she streamed through the house, a comet of flashing colors. Her soft laughter teased his senses, while her fingers seemed to brush over his face and down his chest.

  “That’s not nice, Desari,” Julian objected, following the prism of colors at a more leisurely pace. “And definitely unfair.”

  Back off, big boy, she warned, trying to give the impression of a snarl, but instead it came out laughter. Can I help it if you’re so susceptible to a little accidental touching?

  “Accidental? I think not.” He raised his hands and wove a complicated pattern in the air. The streaming colors collided with a solid net, and immediately Desari’s natural form landed on the floor. She sat at his feet laughing, blinking up at him, her dark hair spilling all around her making her look more alluring than ever.

  Julian’s heart clenched in his chest. The sensation was so strong that he pressed his palm over his aching heart, drawing in a deep breath. “Every single night I wake up thinking I cannot possibly love you more, Desari. And every single night, when you awaken and look at me, the love I have for you grows stronger—so much so that sometimes I think I cannot contain it.”

  The bright laughter faded as she extended her hand to him, allowing him to pull her up, to pull her into the shelter of his arms. She framed his face with her hands. She was tall, but he was taller, forcing her to look up in order to meet his burning gaze. His eyes had gone from amber to burnished gold, the hunger there taking her breath away. “You are my beloved, Julian, always my beloved.”

  “I hold you like this, safe in my arms, your body fitting so perfectly into mine.” He turned his head away, ashamed of the welling emotion he could never control in spite of all his centuries of discipline. “And you sing to me as we lie together and there is no other peace in the world like the peace you bring to me.”

  She took a deep breath, love shaking her with its strength. “Do you want a child, Julian? Do you want to try when we know the heartache that most likely lies ahead for us? Are you willing to take a chance that the greatest sorrow—losing our son or daughter—will take from us what we have?” She had to know the truth before making a decision. There was a part of her that wanted a child, a boy with bright blond hair and gold for eyes—a child who would play pranks on her and tease her, reminding her all too much of the man who was her other half. But the price was so high. So very high.

  “Is that what you think, Desari? That if we lost our child, we would lose what we have between us?” He shook his head. “Never. It is impossible.”

  “Our love is so strong, Julian, the emotions we feel so intense, the sorrow of losing a child would be devastating.” The lump in her throat threatened to choke her.

  “Any parent knows losing a child is devastating,” he replied gently. “The sorrow would be great, yes, but if you’re asking me would the risk of that sorrow be worth the chance of having a son or daughter with your eyes and your smile—then I have to say it would be worth it to me. But the decision is yours to make. You are enough for my happiness. A child is a miracle, but I will always survive as long as I have you.”

  “I’m not a coward, Julian,” Desari said, her fingers tangling in his hair. She rested her body against his, laying her head over his heart, listening to the steady rhythm. “I’m not hesitating because I’m a coward.”

  He stroked a caress down the length of shining black hair. “I could never, for one moment, think of you as a coward, honey. We will have a child when we’re ready, not one second before. I have done my duty for my people—a thousand times over—and I will not have a child out of duty. Our child will be conceived in love and wanted more than any other by both of us.”

  Her heart matched the rhythm of his. Her blood heated in her veins. She lifted her face to press kisses along the column of his neck, nipping gently, her tongue tasting his skin. “Well, then, since I would love to have a baby, I say let’s go for it. Let’s try, Julian, and enjoy every moment of conception and pregnancy and not let worry rule us. Our child will be our Christmas present to one another.”

  His body was already stirring, his blood heating to match the fire in hers. “You’re certain, Desari?”

  Her mouth took his, pouring love into him along with her sweet, addicting taste. Every cell in his body responded. He lifted her into his arms without breaking the kiss. Christmas may really bring miracles.

  Her loving laughter teased his senses. Don’t think this will get you out of helping me come up with something else to cook for tonight’s celebration.

  To night’s celebration is happening right now, he told her.

  6

  Darius Daratrazanoff glared at his lifemate as she very accurately threw several rounds of snowballs, peppering him in the face and chest. “Tempest, I am giving you a direct order. Come back here now!”

  Tempest packed the next snowball tight and launched it at his face. “You and your silly direct orders.” She tossed her snowflake-covered red hair and gave a sniff of disdain. “Honestly, Darius, I’m not one of your brothers or sisters who do what ever you tell them. You made fun of me, you snake. Just because I blew up the oven doesn’t mean I can’t cook.” She threw another tightly packed missile, running backward as she did so. “Take it back.”

  “You cannot cook, and who cares? Certainly not me. The oven, however, blew a rather large hole in the house and I need to repair it, so come back here where I can keep an eye on you.”

  “Take it back.”

  “For heaven sake, baby, you set the house on fire. The entire kitchen is black. What did you think you were doing?”

  “The oven wasn’t working right so I fixed it.”

  Darius dodged another snowball. “Tempest. It is not fixed. There is a hole the size of our tour bus in the wall and the kitchen is black with soot. What ever that purple gooey concoction you were making is, it’s now all over the ceiling and walls.”

  “Okay.” She held up her hand, indignation on her face. “That was so not my fault. The stove shorted out and blew a hole through the pot and sent berries all over the ceiling and down the walls. I had nothing to do with that. And if you ask me, that probably did something to make the heating coil melt in the oven as well. So take it back!” She scooped up snow on the run and packed it into weapons.

  “Even if the stove did short out, it does not take away the fact that you cannot cook. You have never been able to cook. Not even when you were on your own. And if you keep going and I lose sight of you, you will be instantly lost. You know you have absolutely no sense of direction.”

  Her red-gold eyebrows drew together in a furious frown. “First, you accuse me of blowing up the house and setting the kitchen on fire. Then, you tell me I can’t cook, and now you say I have no sense of direction! I have a perfectly keen sense of direction.”

  Darius looked up at the sky to see if lightning was about to strike his lifemate. When none was forthcoming, he chuff ed out his breath and changed the subject, afraid if they continued and she told any more whoppers like the last one, they would be in for the strike of a lifetime. “What was the purple sauce all over the wall?”

  “Berry pies. I made like ten of them and they blew up.” She eyed him with suspicion. “Did you mess with that old stove after I told you something wasn’t right with it?”

  “I did not go near that kitchen. It was a ridiculous idea. I told you if you wanted the silly things made, I would look at the recipe and reproduce it for you.”

  “The idea was to cook, smart one, you know, like a human.”

  “It was a stupid idea, Tempest,” he said with patient persistence. “Now come here to me this minute.” He was beginning to feel a little desperate. His lifemate seemed to be the only one capabl
e of making him feel that way. There were times, like now, when he would much rather face a vampire than Tempest. She was halfway between tears and laughter and that was never a good thing.

  She had been an in de pen dent human nearly her entire life before he converted her, and he had been the sole commander for most of his. He had been responsible for the safety of his family for so long, the protective urges couldn’t be suppressed. In truth, he wouldn’t have wanted them to be. He had a good alarm system and it was shrieking at him. He tried to gentle his voice. “Baby, do we really care so much about this dinner? We are not even going to be eating it.”

  “Every woman is bringing a dish.” She gestured through the snow toward the house. “And do you think Barack and Julian are going to stay silent about that big mess? I will never hear the end of it.”

  Darius swore under his breath. He was going to have to do something different, unexpected, completely take her by surprise if he was going to get her out of her mood. He took off running toward her, scooping up snow as he ran, shaping the flakes into loose round missiles. Tempest’s eyes widened in shock and as he fired off his ammunition at her, she shapeshifted on the run, her small, compact figure taking on the shape of a snow leopard. Soft gray fur adorned with black-brown spots covered the compact, muscular body and yard-long tail.

  “Tempest! What are you doing?” He called gruff y, his black gaze shifting to search the area around them. As often as he scanned, he couldn’t find danger, yet he couldn’t quite shake the edginess, the need to hold his lifemate close to him. His silly attempt at being playful had backfired on him. Her mood had been mercurial lately, swinging from one end of the spectrum to the other.