by Tessa Dawn
Jocelyn shook her head. "Well, no wonder he is so...intense...about protecting you guys." She sighed. "Wow, I can't even blame him now for wanting to turn me into a human puppet."
Nathaniel frowned. "Excuse me?"
Jocelyn waved her hand in dismissal. "Nothing."
There was a long moment of silence before either of them spoke.
Finally, Jocelyn reached out, took Nathaniel's hand, and placed it beneath her own, over her belly. "Soon, Keitaro's first grandson will be here."
Nathaniel smiled. "Yes..." He blinked several times. "Have you thought of any names?"
"Actually I have." Jocelyn blushed and drew in a deep breath. "You know, it was the night of that awful storm when I first realized...." She looked off into the distance, a dreamy, contented peace in her eyes.
"Realized what, my love?"
"That I was only running from myself...more afraid of me than you. That I had made a terrible mistake. And that I wanted you to find me. That I wanted to be with you."
Nathaniel felt humbled by her words. "And?"
"And I kind of thought it might be...appropriate...to name our son Storm."
Nathaniel leaned back and tried the name on for size.
"Storm Silivasi...I like it."
"Do you?" Her bright eyes lit up with expectation.
"I do."
"Only now," she said, "I think it might also be respectful to include your father's name...if you don't mind...if that kind of thing is done with vampires."
Nathaniel softened. "Keitaro Storm Silivasi?"
Jocelyn nodded. "Yes, but we would call him Storm."
Nathaniel splayed his fingers across her belly and bent to kiss the heavy, swelling mound, his eyes misting over. "Hello, Storm." His voice was soft with reverence and gratitude. He looked up at the clock on the nightstand. "Jocelyn, it is time."
Jocelyn's face went flush and she all at once became serious, the merest hint of fear in her eyes. "Should we call Colette?"
They both knew the woman had been at their home for the last twenty-four hours pacing frantically, cleaning the kitchen until the smell of Pine-Sol reeked even on the third floor, and placing beautiful yellow and blue outfits into neat, tidy piles on the antique changing table she had brought for the nursery: a nursery she had anxiously arranged...and rearranged...a dozen times, trying to avail herself of any need the new couple might have and seeming only too happy to do it.
Nathaniel nodded and then he took her hands in his. "Are you ready for what must be done?"
Jocelyn nodded. "I think so. I hope so."
Nathaniel sent a mental call out to Colette, who didn't bother walking the length of the long third-floor hall to get to the master bedroom; she simply materialized beside the bed, her brilliant light-blue eyes wide with expectation.
"Is it time?" she asked, her soft voice almost overflowing with joy.
Nathaniel nodded. "Jocelyn?"
"I'm ready," she said, pulling herself up into a semi-seated position.
Nathaniel closed his eyes, bowed his head, and spoke an eloquent prayer in the old language. Although Jocelyn didn't understand the words, she found them beautiful and hypnotic...mystically rhythmic. And then he gently commanded his sons to come forth from the beautiful human woman who had so capably cared for and created them up to that point.
The bedroom filled with tiny prisms of light, like miniature rainbows swirling through the air in a glistening arc above the bed. An odd sound filled the room, like that of water rushing in a fast-flowing river, and a dazzling halo of luminosity, like iridescent gold dust, began to sparkle all around Jocelyn's stomach...until it finally formed a peak just above the apex of her belly.
The gold dust came together in gradual waves of light, moving faster and faster, even as the rushing sound grew louder and louder, until the outline of a child began to appear.
The first infant materialized slowly, a beautiful angel with blue-black hair and mystical, hazel eyes. He appeared to be just over seven pounds, and he was positively perfect, from the flawless color of his honey-gold skin to the faultless shape of his head.
He had strong, healthy arms and legs that flailed about as he shrieked his first full-throated cry, filling the room with the sound of life.
Filling Jocelyn's heart with wonder and awe.
Jocelyn caught her breath, utterly astonished, and her eyes misted over as she reached out to hold the newborn child: her newborn son.
Nathaniel looked positively amazed; the child was a miracle...beautiful. He caught the child in his arms and cradled him gently, turning to hand him to Colette.
Before Jocelyn could protest, he said, "You will hold him soon enough, my love."
Jocelyn knew he was reminding her of...the Dark One.
That there was still another child to be born. She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself for what was to come.
When the second child emerged with a full head of crimson and black hair, the thick, wavy tresses bonded in interlocking curls of midnight tinged with wine, she was astonished to see that the curse was actually real.
She had known it, but it was still amazing to witness it.
As Nathaniel reached for the baby, his countenance changed. He held him in a much cooler grasp, not once bothering to look in his eyes, but Jocelyn couldn't help herself—
And she was stunned by what she saw.
The second child had the same vividly beautiful hazel eyes as the first. Jocelyn caught her breath: His skin was perfect.
His little hands and feet were...flawless. He was irrefutably magnificent. Absolutely gorgeous.
And the child didn't cry.
He cooed and wiggled about in Nathaniel's arms like any other precious infant.
A series of knots tied in Jocelyn's stomach. This child was not evil. He was not an abomination. And the moment she allowed herself to think the thoughts, the soft little leopard-eyes turned in her direction and locked with hers. They were beaming with...light. Not darkness.
Jocelyn shot up instinctively. Moving with the protectiveness of a mother bear, she wedged her body between Nathaniel and the helpless infant as she snatched him from the vampire's arms and cradled him close to her heart.
Both Nathaniel and Colette inhaled sharply, their eyes wide with shock.
"Jocelyn," Nathaniel called gently, "give me the baby, sweetheart."
Jocelyn covered the child like a running back with a football, her own eyes flashing with such intense sparks of heat she wondered if they might be glowing red.
"Nathaniel, look at him!"
Nathaniel refused, keeping his eyes steadily on hers.
Jocelyn felt a fierce protectiveness swell in her heart. "He has my eyes," she insisted. "He's perfect: something is wrong." She turned to stare at Colette. "He's not at all like Valentine or the Dark Ones...he's perfect."
She glared at Nathaniel then. "Look at him!"
Nathaniel stood in stunned silence, defiantly refusing to look at the child. Instead he stared deep into Jocelyn's eyes with a look that could only be described as a mixture of displeasure, astonishment, and pity. "No, my love, he is—"
"Our son!" she cried. "Look at his eyes. He has my eyes!"
Nathaniel shook his head more vigorously this time, and Jocelyn watched as he and Colette exchanged a knowing glance between them.
She could feel the subtle disturbance of energy in the air and knew they were talking to each other telepathically...choosing to use a private bandwidth she was not linked onto.
Jocelyn felt utterly and completely betrayed. She felt cornered and desperate. "Stop talking to each other in private!" she demanded, all at once jumping several feet from the bed in one smooth leap.
She approached the small bassinette Colette had placed in the room for Storm and reached down to grab one of the soft blue blankets folded neatly in the cradle. She wrapped the cooing infant gently in the supple cloth, her back deliberately turned to both of them, and her eyes filled with tears.
"You can't have my son, Nathaniel." She knew she didn't sound rational, but she didn't care. This was a helpless baby.
Her baby. And they were going to kill it.
Kill it.
Nathaniel moved with preternatural speed, spinning around to face Jocelyn and the infant, hovering over the bassinette, his large hands going gently but insistently around the child's body.
Both mother and father were locked in the same dreadful moment, two sets of hands beneath the same child.
From someplace deep inside, someplace she didn't even know existed, Jocelyn felt a deep, rumbling sound vibrate within her throat. The harsh growl of warning that escaped her lips was almost as shocking to her as it was to Nathaniel.
Nathaniel stepped back, let go of the child, and squared his shoulders.
Closing her eyes, Jocelyn began to tune into her newfound inner strength, testing her new state of being, awakening the awesome power she now had as a vampire. She was prepared to fight for the child if she had to, and every muscle in her body began to twitch in response to her intention.
Nathaniel immediately grasped her by the shoulders and bared his fangs, like a male lion warning a lioness. "Do not think to challenge me, Jocelyn." He hissed the words. "You may be far more powerful than you were before, but your strength is no match for my own. And it never will be."
His voice was harsh.
Absolute.
Merciless.
"Parents are supposed to die for their children," she snarled angrily. "But you...you would kill an innocent child so that you could live?" She held the child tight to her breast, and the baby began to cry. "Fine," she uttered, her voice cracking. "Then let me go in his place. Let me trade my life for his."
Colette looked like she had seen a ghost. Her skin turned ghastly white, and Nathaniel stepped back as if he'd been physically struck.
"Jocelyn, my love..." He lowered his voice. "That child is evil." His tone was dark and deliberately mesmerizing—his stare, cold and authoritarian. "He has no soul, and he would kill you the first moment he was able."
He took control of her physical body then, all at once paralyzing her arms, leaving her standing there like a granite statue of Madonna and Child as he stepped forward and reached for the infant....
But it was another set of powerful arms that grasped the child.
A tall tower of a man. An intimidating male with flowing black and silver banded hair the length of his waist and eyes the color of onyx, with powerful silver slashes in the centers for irises.
The male's voice was like the night sky, sultry and dark, endless in its depth and power. "You shall relinquish this child at once."
The words were an irrefutable command as he released her from Nathaniel's hold.
Jocelyn felt her body relax. And then she watched herself, as if from a distance, casually handing the baby over into the mighty one's arms. She knew without being told that she was standing before the Sovereign Lord of Nathaniel's people: Napolean Mondragon.
Napolean turned to face Nathaniel. "This night, I will make the blood sacrifice on your behalf. Go to your destiny and see to her comfort. I will return later to initiate this daughter of Cassiopeia into the house of Jadon, and to seal the covenant of your child's birth...so that his name and constellation will be known for all time by the Ancients who have come before him...and by all who will come after him."
Jocelyn felt the tears streaming down her face, burning her skin as they fell. Her confusion and helplessness were overwhelming.
Nathaniel nodded in agreement and bowed his head before the towering Ancient whose presence filled the room like a beacon of light and power.
"As you wish, milord."
Colette stood deathly quiet; her head was bowed, her eyes averted to the ground...as if it were some sort of taboo to look upon the Sovereign One's face.
Jocelyn blinked as if she had been in a trance. And then she glared at Nathaniel as Napolean shimmered out of view, taking her beautiful baby boy with him. She covered her face in her hands and cried out, an ear-piercing sob of anguish, too ashamed to look Nathaniel in the eyes.
Nathaniel turned to Colette. "Colette, take Storm out of here...now. I will call you in a moment to bring him back."
Colette shimmered out of view with the beautiful firstborn infant, the son of Jadon, cradled closely to her heart, and Nathaniel immediately went to Jocelyn's side.
Jocelyn stepped back, afraid of his anger, dreading the harsh reprimand she knew was coming, but to her utter shock and dismay, Nathaniel bent his head, his glorious dark hair falling forward to cover his face...
And he wept.
Jocelyn stood frozen for a retracted moment, watching the powerful being before her reduced to tears. "Nathaniel," she finally whispered, "I'm sorry."
He gathered her in his arms and held her so tight she thought she might break. "Jocelyn, I would never take your child from you. I know he appeared...perfect...but do you not remember seeing Valentine? Was he not handsome?
Powerful? Physically perfect? Do you not remember how evil he was? How totally depraved and without conscience he was? Don't you know by now that I would die for you, my love? That I would die for our child? That I would trade my life if I could spare you such sorrow?"
His powerful chest was heaving with the weight of his sobs, and she felt...disgraceful.
Seeing Nathaniel's pain was worse than any reprimand could have ever been.
Jocelyn's mind began to clear now that the child was no longer in the room. "I think...maybe...the baby did something to me...to my mind." She wrapped her arms around Nathaniel's neck and held him close. "I love you, Nathaniel.
Do you hear me? I love you. And I am so, so sorry."
Nathaniel crushed her to him then, kissing her temples, her cheeks, her jaw, her lips. He took her mouth with such absolute abandon it was frightening. The male was hungry...starving...for something much, much deeper than sexual gratification.
The moment seemed to last forever: the two of them locked in each other's arms, enveloped in each other's love, offering mutual understanding and comfort.
When he finally released her, Nathaniel stepped back and gripped her by her delicate shoulders. "Your true son awaits you, my love. He needs you as much as I do."
Jocelyn brushed a lock of thick black hair away from Nathaniel's face. "As much as I need both of you."
Her eyes met his and she stared at him, just taking him in: loving him more in that moment than she had ever loved anyone...or anything...in all of her life. Nathaniel Silivasi. Her husband. Her vampire.
She smiled up at him, praying he could feel how deeply sorry she was. She didn't understand what had come over her, but she had never meant to strike out at him like that.
She would never wish to hurt him.
They held onto each other again...for what seemed an eternity...and then Nathaniel called Colette back in.
When the pleasant woman shimmered into view with the baby still cradled lovingly in her arms, Jocelyn immediately went to the two of them. "I am sorry, Colette," she whispered, reaching out to take her son into her arms for the first time.
The child looked up at her, and her heart melted with the love and peace that was her destiny.
This was her amazing fortune.
Her future.
Jocelyn kissed the baby's forehead and smiled. His impossibly small fingers curled around hers and she laughed with joy.
"Hello, my little angel," she whispered.
Nathaniel gathered them both into his arms, leaned in to kiss his son, and frowned. "I think you mean hello, my strong warrior," he corrected.
Jocelyn laughed. "Hello, my little warrior."
It was a good compromise.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Marquis, Nachari, Kagen, and even young Braden gathered around the informal living room on the second floor of Nathaniel and Jocelyn's home waiting to get their first look at Storm.
Napolean Mondragon stood unobtrusively on the fa
r side of the room, next to the large stone fireplace, his silver-black eyes glowing with warmth and pride.
When Nathaniel and Jocelyn entered the room, the brothers all stood to attention, anxiously straining their necks to get a peek at the bundled infant held protectively in his father's arms.
"It's about time," Marquis grumbled, making his way to Nathaniel's side.
Jocelyn intercepted the powerful warrior, placing her body between his and the baby's. "Be gentle, Marquis."
Marquis hissed, rolled his eyes, and pushed her away using a somewhat restrained elbow. "Get out of the way," he grumbled. "Can't you see that this boy has been waiting to meet a real warrior?"
Nathaniel growled a deep, instinctual warning—the territorial instinct of a male animal protecting his young.
Marquis's answering snarl left no room for argument as to who the Alpha male of the family really was...father or no.
"Good Lord," Jocelyn sighed, "there is way too much testosterone in this room."
"Oh, just hand me my nephew," Marquis demanded, scooping the child gently into his arms.
Despite his gravelly voice, his face relaxed the moment he held Storm, and a peaceful, loving smile lined the hard edges of his mouth. "He's so small."
The powerful Ancient Master Warrior sounded amazed. He studied the baby like a scientist with a specimen—as if he were looking for imperfections—committing every line, marking, and characteristic to memory. "Not bad," he snorted, his eyes beaming with pride.
Nachari and Kagen glided over noiselessly, each one taking a position at one of Marquis's sides, inadvertently crowding both Nathaniel and Jocelyn out.
"He has hazel eyes," Nachari remarked in astonishment.
He looked over at Jocelyn with approval.
"Yeah, well," Marquis grumbled, "we can toughen him up, make up for that one little...feminine mishap."
Nachari feigned insult. "My eyes are green as well, Marquis."
Marquis shrugged. "Yeah...and you became a wizard."
Kagen chuckled. "He has his father's mouth." He lightly stroked the baby's cheek. When the infant startled in Marquis's arms, Kagen jumped back. "Did I hurt him?"