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Lupo (The Immortals Book 8)

Page 21

by La Porta, Monica


  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Are you okay?” Ludwig asked.

  “I’m fine,” Lupo answered, looking at the bleeding panther to make sure he was still on the floor.

  From outside the window that was too narrow to accommodate his wings, Ludwig scanned the room with his omniscient gray eyes. “Hold the fort for a moment. I’ll be right back.” He tipped his head and dove toward the pavement three stories below.

  Lupo pushed himself up on his elbows, and checked on his friend’s wolf. “Raphael?” He sat, then reached his hand out and patted the wolf’s warm fur.

  The big animal raised his head and gave a regal nod, then Raphael shifted back in his human form, but remained seated. On his torso, a deep slash marring his wolf tattoo was already closing.

  “Thank you for defending Jasmine.” Lupo patted his own wolf tattoo with his fist, twice. “I owe you.”

  “Nah—” Raphael repeated Lupo’s gesture, but he was careful not to touch the healing wound. “That’s what friends are for.”

  A deep flood of emotions clogged Lupo’s throat and made him speechless, so he brought his flat palm over his heart and nodded at Raphael.

  “Likewise, brother.” Raphael smiled, then sighed. “Healing sucks.”

  “Fighting is the easy part,” Lupo said.

  Raphael laughed, then leaned over in pain. When he was composed again, he turned his chin toward the other corner of the room. “You got a little surprise—”

  “Most definitely.” Lupo said with a smile, then noticed the panther had moved a leg. He hoisted himself up and stood guard over the animal, who looked up at him with eyes full of hate, but didn’t otherwise attempt anything else.

  With the panther under control, but still keeping an eye on the animal, Lupo checked on Jasmine, who had deposited the baby in the crib and was now by her mother’s side.

  “Maman—” Jasmine cried.

  Her younger sibling sobbed, his eyes searching the room for his father, then going back to his mother. “Maman!” the boy wailed, rocking on his haunches.

  The woman was being attended by her older son, and was regaining consciousness.

  “Jasmine…” her mother whispered, trying to raise her hand to Jasmine’s face. “I’m sorry, mon chéri. I’m so sorry—”

  Jasmine bent lower and leaned into her mother’s caress. “It’s okay, maman.”

  Ludwig came back through the door, his wings folded behind his back, and after giving an assessing look at the panther, he turned toward the woman. He pointed at her body. “May I?” At her nod, he scanned her. “No major damage, just a concussion.” He placed his hand over her forehead.

  The woman’s face relaxed, then tears wetted her cheeks. “Thank you, Archangel.”

  Ludwig’s face darkened. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ll have to explain your involvement in Lupo’s unjust incarceration, and all the rest your husband did to him.”

  The woman sobbed a few incoherent words, but Ludwig had given his back to her and was now focusing on her husband, still in animal form. “I’ll give you a few minutes to heal, panther, but don’t take long,” he said, his voice cold, then he turned toward Raphael and his expression mellowed. “How are you?”

  “I’m good.” Raphael passed a hand over his chest to show that the wound was completely closed. “I’m coming into my alpha rather slowly, and I’m not completely used to my new status, but it worked this time.”

  Relieved from his guard duty, Lupo walked to the wicker basket, and reached down to brush the girl’s crown. She repaid him with the cutest smile and a few satisfied sounds.

  At the soft cooing, Ludwig’s head snapped toward Lupo. “Is that a baby?” His eyes widened in surprise when Lupo angled the bundle for him to see his daughter. “Is that your baby?” He looked first at Jasmine still crouched by her mother, then at Lupo. A grin spread on his face before either of them could answer, “Yes,” at the same time.

  The panther attempted to move, but Ludwig pinned him down. “Stay.” A mere hint of Wrath in his command was aimed at the animal, who immediately obeyed, licking his wounds. “How did it happen?” he asked Lupo, then shook his head, laughed, and said, “I mean, I know how it happened, but—” He seemed to look for the right words, then raised his hands in surrender.

  Jasmine left her mother to stand beside Lupo, and when the baby gurgled, she took her from his arms.

  “Right now, I know very little.” Lupo smiled at his father, then wound his arm over Jasmine’s shoulder and pulled her closer to him. “We haven’t had any time to speak yet.”

  “There’s no need for you to remain here. Raphael can help me by making a few phone calls on my behalf, while I take care of Mr. Conte.” Ludwig pointed at the door.

  Raphael gave Lupo a thumbs up, while Jasmine’s brothers smiled at her.

  Lupo thanked his father and Raphael, then led Jasmine outside. “Where to?” he asked in the hallway.

  “First, I grab something for you to wear.” Jasmine walked past him, entered a room on the right, then came out with folded clothes. “For your friend as well,” she explained when he saw two pairs of jeans and shirts.

  Lupo covered himself, then walked back to Jasmine’s room to give Raphael the clothes, and a moment lather was back outside. “Okay, now, where to?”

  “Second room on the left.” Jasmine marched ahead, then opened a door, and waited for him to enter a small library.

  The room was furnished with two black bookshelves that filled the walls from floor to ceiling, and two white leather couches facing each other, with a black ottoman in the middle. Lupo sat on the one under the arched window, and pulled Jasmine on his lap. It wasn’t the ideal position for talking, but he couldn’t resist the urge of touching her.

  “What’s her name?” He looked down at the girl between them.

  Jasmine caressed the black curls. “She doesn’t have a name yet.”

  “We’ll give her one.” He leaned forward and softly kissed Jasmine’s lips. He felt her heart skip the same moment his did. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “My father told me you were dead, that he had killed you to avenge my honor, but I kept talking to you and you answered me—”

  “Wait—” Lupo passed a hand over his head. “You thought I was dead?”

  “Yes. When I woke after the accident, my father came to visit me and told me how he had killed you. I was so upset, my mother gave me something to sleep. It was the first of many times. I spent more than a year drugged, with little or no recognition of what was happening around me. My family preferred it this way. But when I was awake, I contacted you. I didn’t care you weren’t real. Your voice in my mind gave me the strength to keep on going.”

  Lupo hugged her tight, careful of not crushing their daughter. “For several months, I spent every day in cell looking forward to our dates.” He chuckled against her ear.

  “I remember you telling me about prison. At the time, I thought it was so bizarre that my imaginary you had a life of its own and that was also crappy.”

  “You were always calm and collected.” He kissed her earlobe, sending shivers down the column of her throat he kissed next. “At a certain point though, you sounded excited about something, then I lost you. What happened?”

  “That must’ve been around the time I was about to tell you about the baby, and my father also discovered about my pregnancy.” Jasmine panted when Lupo caressed her back and his fingers lazily hovered over her bra’s hooks. “I can’t talk if you keep doing that.”

  “I apologize.” He lowered his hands to the small of her back, then took her mouth for one last kiss. “Sorry, you were saying?”

  “When I realized I was expecting, I kept it a secret. I told no one, not even my mother, for fear that they would force me to have an abortion. This baby growing inside me was yours, and I promised her I would keep her safe. I caressed my belly and I talked to her, telling her about you, how much you would’ve loved her, and how much I missed you
—”

  He brushed her lips again. “Sometimes, it felt like I couldn’t breathe, but others it was like a stabbing wound to my heart. I didn’t care about prison—”

  “In a way, I thought that I projected my situation ‘placing’ you in a cell, because I was never allowed out myself. My room was locked from the outside, and I couldn’t make calls or use my laptop. I didn’t have access to the TV either. I was completely cut out from the rest of society. I could only walk on the terrace under my mother’s supervision, and read books my mother chose for me. I thought of escaping all the time when I was lucid, but between the pregnancy and the drugs, I was too weak to contemplate climbing down those walls—”

  “Where were you all this time? In this house?”

  “Yes, my father brought me here from the hospital. My brothers didn’t come though. They were sent to a boarding school in Switzerland. I missed them.” The baby moved in Jasmine’s arms, and she adjusted her hold.

  Lupo shifted too to make Jasmine more comfortable. “How could you hide your state?”

  “I didn’t gain lots of weight and the chiton is quite forgiving.” She looked up at him with a small smile.

  “That would be the only occasion I can think of for this horrid circus tent to be of some use.” He gave the black fabric a soft jerk.

  “When I was entering my ninth month, I fainted and the family doctor was called. After the doctor gave my father the news, the man disappeared without a trace. Meanwhile, I was being kept sedated on a daily basis. It was in my food, so I could decide to either starve myself and my baby or sleep through the last part of the pregnancy.”

  “Who helped you when the baby was born?”

  “My mother. She had been on board with everything my father ordered, but when it was time for me to give birth something changed in her—”

  “Was it hard?” Lupo caressed Jasmine’s cheek.

  “It was scary, because it was just me and my mother, and she had no idea of what delivering a baby meant. She flew to Paris a week before entering labor for all her pregnancies, and had us in a hospital that is more luxurious than a grand hotel. When my water broke and the contractions started, my panther coached me every step of the way, until this beautiful baby was born.” Jasmine brought one of the girl’s small hands to her lips.

  “When was it?”

  “The twenty-fourth of December. She’s my Christmas miracle—” Jasmine smiled. “You should’ve seen her. She was so tiny, but already a warrior. She came out all covered in goo and blood, but with a roar, then latched to me and gulped milk until she fell asleep.”

  “I wish I could’ve been with you. I would’ve held you, and breathed with you, and told you how beautiful you were.” He kissed the little hand too, wondering at her perfection. Then a sudden worry formed in his mind. “Is she…?” He couldn’t fully articulate his question for fear of the answer. “Will she be okay?” When Jasmine didn’t say anything, he added, “You know, you were sedated for so long—”

  Jasmine smiled then. “She’s fine. Thanks to her dual nature, her metabolism is faster than yours and mine. The drugs went through her system and were immediately flushed away. Her panther and her wolf communicated with my panther since she was a few weeks old in my belly, and she let me know she was okay.” She said a few sweet nonsenses to the baby.

  “I’ve never heard of any baby doing stuff like that.” Lupo didn’t have any kind of experience when it came to kids, but he would have known if communicating with parents was a common thing.

  “Our baby is different.” Jasmine smiled. “Having two animals also amplifies the Purist powers she’s inherited from me.”

  “That’s cool.” He looked at his daughter in wonderment.

  “She’s like a super shifter,” Jasmine said with bright eyes.

  “I like that. Our girl is a super shifter.” For a moment, memories from his past resurfaced, and he remembered all the misery he had suffered at the orphanage, when the other kids had treated him like a leper because they thought he was a half-breed. I promise nobody will ever make fun of you. He looked at the baby for a few seconds, then said to Jasmine, “I wish I’d been there the first time she talked to your panther.”

  Jasmine bumped his forehead with his. “It’s all my father’s fault. All of it. Our separation. Your imprisonment. My mother confessed soon after the baby was born. Once she took our daughter in her arms, she started crying, and begged for my forgiveness after telling me how she had let my father fake my death and send you to jail. I was furious with my family who had lied to me about you, but you were alive, and I wasn’t alone anymore. I had to play smart. So, I started planning my escape, but while my mother softened toward me because of the baby, my father refused to see her, and even revoked the terrace breaks. I was terrified he would do something—”

  “What did you do then?” Lupo pressed a hand to her back, and with the other he rubbed her arm.

  “I struck a deal with my mother. I promised not to attempt anything that would enrage my father, and she would take care of the baby and protect her when I was incapacitated. But a week ago, she came back to my room after leaving me alone for almost a day, and she was distracted, jumpy. I asked her what was going on, and she said she had a headache. I knew she was lying. The day after, she brought me food and water, but again she left me alone. She was avoiding me and I wondered why. There was something going on, and when I awoke the next time I realized the house was quiet. My father wasn’t around. Yet my mother walked on eggshells around me, and she told me we were soon to move somewhere else and that it was a good thing. Yesterday, she packed my things, but nothing for the baby, and I asked her again what was going on. She wouldn’t look me in the eyes, and I knew they were giving away my baby. I haven’t eaten anything in almost two days, and I’ve barely slept at all for fear that my mother would take the baby from me. I’m so weak and tired, I feel the same as if I had been drugged. A few hours ago, my father came back and he was in the worst mood of his life. I could hear him break things and curse. There was lots of shouting. My brothers were there too. I hadn’t heard their voices in so long, and I almost didn’t recognize them. From all the noise, I gathered that they must have tried to stop my father from walking upstairs. I looked for something to use to defend myself and the baby, but beside a pen I couldn’t find anything else. Downstairs, my mother cried and I knew he had hit her—”

  Lupo dropped a kiss to her nose. “While I was on the street, trying to find a way to reach you, I heard you screaming.”

  She nodded. “They managed to slow him down, but my father is stronger than all of them combined. He came into my room and strode toward the crib. My mother ran to grab the baby, and for a moment I thought she was still obeying him and lost my only chance to stab him with the pen. He slapped it away. I went for a chair, but he was faster than me. My brothers came between me and my father, and they protected me from him for a moment, then the doorbell rang, someone was raising the dead downstairs. My father said something about the archangel having arrived and left—”

  “And that’s when I came in.” Lupo shifted again on the couch, so that he could look at her, but still hold her and the baby in his arms.

  “When I heard you, I couldn’t believe it was really you.”

  “You sent several distress calls—”

  “Yes, and I heard you too, but I was losing my mind and I thought I was hallucinating.” She tilted her chin up, her mouth soft and inviting.

  “I’m terrified to wake up and discover this was just a dream.” Lupo coaxed her lips open to taste her, and she let him, her breathing as fast as his.

  The baby started crying, and Jasmine leaned away and chuckled. “If this is a dream, we got a very lifelike hungry baby.” With one hand she enlarged a slit in the chiton at her chest height, and with the other she gently pushed the baby’s head into it. A moment later, the small head bobbed in and out of sight, and the noisy sound of feeding started. “Would you run to the kitchen and gr
ab some food and water for me, please?”

  Lupo went downstairs, found the kitchen, and raided the fridge and the pantry, then come back to Jasmine with two trays stacked with food, and two plastic bags he had filled with fruits and bottled water. At the library door, he paused a moment to contemplate the scene before his eyes. His daughter was still feeding, and making sounds that were a mix of roars and mewls, but Jasmine had fallen asleep. His fierce panther looked like a vision of serenity, with her arms gently cradling their baby, her mouth composed in a small smile, and her corvine hair cascading over her shoulders and down the front of her chiton.

  He imagined her, starving, dehydrated, recently drugged, attacking her father with a pen to defend their baby girl. He didn’t know why the gods had put them together, and why they had seen fit to make them suffer thus, but if that was the price to pay to be with his soulmate and his daughter, he would ask to be the only one carrying all the pain and hurt, but would gladly go through all of it again for them.

  When the baby’s head fell to the side, he went to gently extricate her from her mother’s arms, but Jasmine’s eyes opened with a snap, and a look of terror showed on her face. “It’s just me, my love. The baby’s finished eating and she’s fallen asleep.”

  Jasmine blinked, her chest rising and falling, her arms tightly wound around the baby, creating a safety nest, then she shook her head. “I’m sorry—”

  “It’s okay.” Lupo sat beside her and hugged her. He waited a moment for her to completely relax, then kissed her head. “I brought the kitchen up for you.”

  She looked at the smorgasbord of food he had placed on the ottoman, then laughed. “You really did.”

  They both ate, exchanging a few words in between bites, and kisses even more often. Then the baby woke for another round, and Lupo fed Jasmine morsels, until they were full, their daughter included.

  Lupo couldn’t have enough of looking at the baby girl now sleeping on the other couch, swaddled in her cocoon of towels, and in between pillows. Jasmine had explained to him how to change her diaper, and he had proudly finished the task by only wasting three. “She truly is a gift. I’ve never thought about having kids—”

 

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