Scent of Darkness

by Christina Dodd

  ‘‘Yes, you can tell me what you like to eat.’’

  ‘‘Anything you fix will be fine.’’

  ‘‘You’ve been in the wild for five days. You must want something,’’ Zorana coaxed.

  ‘‘Ma, I’d love a rhubarb custard pie,’’ he said.

  ‘‘You know you’re the only one who likes rhubarb custard pie and you scarf down the whole thing.’’ Oblivious to any irony, Rurik finished his third poached egg and another piece of toast.

  ‘‘I fail to see the problem,’’ Jasha answered.

  Ann watched them with her blue eyes wide.

  Jasha wondered if their all-American normalcy comforted her, or whether she saw it as a camouflage for their true, beastly nature.

  Yet his father sat in the living room in his recliner watching CSI reruns. His sister was sleeping in. And his brother was a pain in the ass.

  ‘‘Ma, make lemon meringue,’’ Rurik said.

  ‘‘We can have both, but we should let our guest decide what she wants first.’’ Zorana’s words were a reproof to her sons.

  ‘‘I’m not being selfish. Everyone likes lemon meringue, ’’ Rurik said piously.

  Jasha snorted. He knew Ann would never profess a preference. Her manners were too good, her desire to please was too ingrained, and that nun, Sister Mary Magdalene, had taught her to be grateful.

  He hated grateful.

  Zorana wiped her hands on her kitchen towel. ‘‘Lamb? Ann, you like lamb?’’

  ‘‘Very much.’’

  ‘‘That is appropriate for the meal, yes?’’ Zorana asked her sons. ‘‘For we are celebrating your father’s salvation.’’

  ‘‘That’s perfect.’’ Ann broke into one of her rare smiles.

  And Jasha was transfixed. Even around the office, one of Ann’s smiles was an event. She didn’t realize how hard her coworkers labored to make her smile, or that her pleasure gave everyone a lift to their heart.

  In her most loving voice, Zorana said, ‘‘It is because of you, Ann, that we can have this celebration. ’’

  ‘‘It was luck that I found the icon,’’ Ann said.

  ‘‘No. It was fate,’’ Zorana answered.

  Ann’s smile drooped, and as if she was in pain, she reached around and pressed her hand just below her waist on her right side.

  ‘‘Did sleeping in a real bed make your back hurt?’’ He grinned at her. ‘‘Want to go out and sleep on the ground again?’’

  Hastily, she removed her hand and sat up straight. ‘‘No. Really. I’m fine!’’

  ‘‘Don’t tease her, Jasha,’’ his mother said.

  No, he shouldn’t tease her, especially now that he remembered—since they’d started this trip, she’d made that gesture fairly often. Did her back hurt? She looked guilty—was she concealing something from him? A pulled muscle, or a burn?

  During the trek through the wilderness, all Jasha’s concentration had been focused on Ann, on keeping her alive, on wooing her as she deserved. He’d always known how smart and efficient she was; now he saw the beauty that shone from her and the bravery that lurked at the core of her being.

  He got up and poured himself a cup of coffee.

  She thought she was a coward because she was afraid.

  He thought she was a champion because she fought despite her fears.

  She would never tell him if she’d somehow hurt herself, or worse, if he’d somehow hurt her. He would watch to see if he could discover what was wrong.

  He carried the coffeepot over and refilled her cup, and when she lifted her face to his to thank him, he kissed her.

  Two nights ago, he’d given in to his lust. He’d possessed her because he had to, because he knew there was a chance he would die, and he had to know her one more time. Yesterday, she’d turned the tables and claimed him, tormenting him with her desires, making love to him in a glorious celebration of life.

  So why had he spent last night restless and horny?

  Because he’d grown used to having her beside him, to waking up when she stirred, to holding her in his arms and wanting her. Always wanting her. If he lived to be 150, he would still want her.

  None of the sex, no matter how good, had convinced Ann that she was his. Even when she was surrounded by his family, she was isolated.

  And he couldn’t bear her loneliness. ‘‘Ann,’’ he whispered, and because he couldn’t resist, he put his free hand on her throat and kissed her again.

  She restrained herself, embarrassed by their audience, until in a rush her resistance collapsed. She melted against him, and she kissed him back.

  ‘‘Get a room!’’ Rurik said.

  Ann pulled away, blushing.

  ‘‘I wish,’’ Jasha said fervently.

  ‘‘But before you leave, pass the coffeepot,’’ Rurik said.

  Jasha handed it to him, and looked up to find his mother watching them.

  She wasn’t having a vision, but she was definitely seeing more than he liked. His parents might have met through an abduction, and married under a cloud, but for them, that proved the good sense of traditional values—they wanted their sons to choose their mates wisely, and treat them with respect.

  He was ready to do that, for he respected Ann more than any woman he’d ever met, he trusted her, and never had he imagined wanting a woman like he wanted her.

  Even better, she wanted him just as violently.

  The first chance he got, he would ask her to marry him.

  She’d like that. It would be a good marriage.

  Firebird shuffled in, still in her turquoise bathrobe.

  ‘‘It’s about time.’’ Jasha made a show of checking his watch. ‘‘It’s after eight. What happened to my baby sister who always bounded up at five in the morning?’’

  Firebird pushed back her lank hair and glared. ‘‘I’m not feeling so hot. Okay?’’

  ‘‘You want breakfast?’’ Zorana asked.

  ‘‘No.’’ Firebird collapsed onto a chair. ‘‘But thank you, Mama.’’

  Rurik jostled her with his elbow. ‘‘Hungover?’’

  ‘‘No,’’ she snapped.

  She couldn’t be hungover. Last night, Jasha hadn’t been paying much attention, but he’d noticed she barely touched the vodka to her lips. Probably it was that time of the month . . . .

  Ann smiled again, right at Firebird. ‘‘Morning sickness is a wretched business, so they tell me.’’

  Firebird stared at Ann with a stricken expression.

  Ann tried again. ‘‘Jasha didn’t tell me you were expecting. When are you due?’’

  ‘‘Expecting? You mean, like, pregnant? Don’t be silly. She’s having her . . . that is, Firebird isn’t . . .’’ Jasha got a good look at Firebird’s guilty face. He waited for his mother to scoff.

  Instead, Zorana shook her head and looked down at the floor.

  The realization hit him, and hit him hard. Instant fury roared through him. ‘‘You’re pregnant.’’

  ‘‘Oh, no,’’ Ann whispered.

  ‘‘Could you say it a little louder, Jasha?’’ Firebird snapped. ‘‘I don’t think Miss Joyce in town heard you.’’

  Firebird didn’t deny it. She was pregnant. His baby sister was pregnant.

  ‘‘Son of a bitch.’’ Rurik got to his feet and stared at Firebird in disbelief. ‘‘You’ve got to be kidding.’’

  At least Jasha wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what was going on. Because it was obvious the women sure did. Even Ann, who had just got here, realized Firebird was pregnant.

  No. Not pregnant. Knocked up.

  Jasha stalked toward Firebird. ‘‘Tell me who did this to you, and I’ll get him.’’

  ‘‘I’ll help you.’’ Rurik stood shoulder to shoulder with Jasha. ‘‘We’ll bring him back. We’ll make him—’’

  ‘‘Marry me?’’ Firebird’s eyes flashed. ‘‘I don’t think so.’’

  ‘‘He ran out on you.’’ Jasha’s fists clenched.

  ‘
‘No. I ran out on him. He doesn’t even know.’’ Firebird held up one hand—like that would stop them. ‘‘And that’s the way it’s going to stay. I’m not marrying him. He’s not getting custody of my child, and he’s not getting visitation rights. I appreciate the offer, but he’s an asshole. So, you guys, just put a sock in it.’’

  ‘‘He . . . ,’’ Jasha said.

  ‘‘You . . . ,’’ Rurik said.

  ‘‘I’m allowed to be as stupid as any other twenty-year-old and go to bed with the wrong guy.’’ Firebird flicked a tear out of the corner of her eye, but she didn’t break down. Firebird never broke down. ‘‘Don’t tell me you guys didn’t do dumb things when you were my age, because I remember that time when Rurik and Paula Hecker, the pecker checker, ended up in La Grange in jail for public intoxication and lewdness—’’

  ‘‘Sh!’’ Rurik shot a glance at his mother, whose narrowing eyes warned of trouble. ‘‘I paid you to keep quiet.’’

  ‘‘And I did! You just didn’t pay me enough to keep me quiet while you lectured me.’’ She turned on Jasha. ‘‘And you can’t tell me that you and Ann have a platonic relationship. I see how you watch her when you think no one is looking, like a wolf, and I heard you prowling the hall last night. If I hadn’t been in the bedroom with her, nothing could have kept you out.’’

  Startled, Ann looked at Jasha.

  He scowled at his sister.

  And Zorana scrutinized him.

  Firebird continued. ‘‘So don’t berate me as if you were—’’

  ‘‘Your father?’’ Jasha said.

  ‘‘Yeah.’’ Firebird subsided and muttered, ‘‘As if you were my father.’’

  ‘‘That’s enough, Jasha.’’ Ann got up, went and sat down next to Firebird, and hugged her shoulders. ‘‘Will your father be very upset?’’

  Firebird rubbed her forehead. ‘‘He’s old-fashioned, and he thinks I’m still a virgin. He’ll be like Jasha and Rurik, only worse.’’ She lowered her voice. ‘‘I’m not sure he won’t throw me out.’’

  ‘‘He adores you.’’ Rurik put his hand on Firebird’s shoulder.

  ‘‘All the worse,’’ Zorana said.

  ‘‘I know. Do you think I don’t know?’’ Firebird placed her hand on her belly. ‘‘I was going to tell him that night . . . you know, that night.’’

  ‘‘How far along are you?’’ Jasha couldn’t take his gaze away from her hand, shielding the baby, protecting it.

  ‘‘Almost six months,’’ she said.

  ‘‘Six months?’’ he shouted.

  Firebird and Zorana shushed him.

  ‘‘Tone it down, Jasha,’’ Ann said sternly.

  ‘‘How could you be six months?’’ he demanded in a whisper.

  ‘‘It’s her first child,’’ Zorana told him. ‘‘A woman never shows as much with the first child, and Firebird has been careful to dress right.’’

  Rurik rounded on his mother. ‘‘So you’ve been in on this?’’

  ‘‘Don’t you talk to Mama that way,’’ Firebird scolded. ‘‘She guessed while we were at the hospital, and it’s not as if she could do anything about it.’’

  A new voice spoke from the doorway. Konstantine’s voice. ‘‘Maybe Firebird’s child is the fourth son of the prophecy.’’ He stood there, leaning heavily on his walker, his bushy brows lifted high.

  All eyes turned to him, horrified, but no one moved.

  Then Firebird came to her feet. She rushed to him and wrapped her arm around his. ‘‘Papa, you’re not supposed to be up by yourself!’’

  ‘‘I have to go to the bathroom, and all my family’s in the kitchen shouting at each other. What’s an old man to do?’’

  Jasha should have been quieter. He meant to be quieter.

  Konstantine lifted one trembling hand and cupped Firebird’s chin. ‘‘So you are going to make me a grandfather?’’

  ‘‘Yes, Papa.’’ For the first time, Firebird’s eyes filled and overflowed.

  ‘‘I should tell you never to darken my door again.’’

  ‘‘I know, Papa.’’ She wiped her cheeks on her sleeve.

  ‘‘And I would, but I have to go to the bathroom first.’’ He glared at Jasha and Rurik. ‘‘Maybe one of the big lugs who call themselves my sons could give me a hand.’’

  Rurik rushed to his side and helped him turn around.

  Zorana sighed in relief and went back to her cooking.

  Jasha hugged his sister and murmured, ‘‘Congratulations, little one.’’

  Ann sagged in her chair. The tension in the kitchen evaporated. The crisis was over.

  For now.

  Chapter 28

  Ann didn’t think she was hungry, but at one that afternoon, when Zorana placed the filled platter on the table, her stomach gave such a huge growl, everyone heard it and laughed.

  ‘‘What a compliment!’’ Zorana stood with her hands clasped before her.

  ‘‘It smells so good!’’ Ann tried to explain.

  And it did. After days of wandering and deprivation, the smells of lamb encrusted with garlic and herbs, golden brown potatoes, and carrots made Ann’s mouth water. The sights of a green salad fresh from the garden and a huge plate of bright red, freshly sliced tomatoes brought tears of pleasure to her eyes. The garnet wine sparkled in the glasses. And she had managed, but only barely, not to drool on the three pies that lined the counter, waiting to be cut—rhubarb custard, lemon meringue, and a golden, cinnamony apple.

  ‘‘This feast is in honor of you, for what you have done for my family.’’ Zorana’s lips trembled as she looked across at Konstantine, seated at the end of the table. He looked better this afternoon. Not well, but better. ‘‘You have given us the first glimmer of hope in our long night.’’

  The family, even Rurik, slapped the table and said, ‘‘Hear! Hear!’’

  Ann didn’t know how to respond. Her delight in their praise seemed a sin, yet all day she had soaked it in, settling into the family, catching the rhythm of their teasing, their fights, their silences.

  ‘‘If she hadn’t cut that arrow out of me, you would have never seen me again,’’ Jasha said.

  ‘‘Shut up, Jasha. Until you said that, I really liked her.’’ Rurik grinned at his brother.

  The two guys arm-wrestled briefly, then shook hands in one of those prolonged male rituals that indicated affection without sloppiness.

  When Rurik caught Firebird watching them and shaking her head, he wrapped his arm around her and touched her belly. ‘‘You’ll give us a boy, won’t you? One girl every thousand years is all this family can stand.’’

  Firebird laughed. ‘‘What will you do if I have a girl?’’

  ‘‘Spoil it as horribly as we spoiled you,’’ he said.

  ‘‘Then she will be blessed.’’ Firebird pressed his hand in hers.

  These Wilders were different from any family Ann had ever seen. They loved one another, and they showed their love through touch. There was an old-world charm about their affection. To Ann, the constant contact was an invasion of her personal space; nevertheless, she sort of liked it. It certainly explained why Jasha had a reputation around the office as being touchy-feely.

  While the family feasted, Zorana sat next to Konstantine, leaned close, and quietly spoke to him.

  He nodded, and when the plates had been emptied and pushed away, he lightly tapped his wineglass with his knife. ‘‘Today I found out my daughter, my sweet little Firebird, is going to give me a grandchild. I am very happy’’—he placed his hand over his heart—‘‘yet I find myself furious with the beast who seized her, seduced her, and took her with no thought of the future. She will not tell me who he is so that I can take appropriate measures, and I have no choice but to let him go unpunished.’’

  Firebird looked down at her plate and played with her fork.

  ‘‘Today my wife, my Zorana, came to me and said that she believes another such beast exists.’’ He looked right at Jasha. ‘‘And he lives
under my roof.’’

  Ann choked on the last bite of salad.

  ‘‘This beast I have taught better. This beast has no excuse,’’ Konstantine said. ‘‘Come here, Jasha.’’

  Ann opened her mouth to object.

  Jasha covered her hand with his, and shook his head. The kitchen was absolutely silent as he went to Konstantine’s side and knelt beside the chair.

  Tubes were taped to the old man’s arm and ran up his nose. His complexion was pale, but his words were stern. ‘‘Did you take this girl against her will?’’

  ‘‘Yes.’’

  Konstantine lifted his arm and slapped Jasha hard across the face, and for all his feeble appearance, the blow was sharp and sure.

  Ann leaped up. ‘‘What are you doing?’’

  Rurik and Firebird caught her arms and held her in place.

  Jasha didn’t move except to shake his head as if to clear it.

  ‘‘He’s from the Old Country,’’ Firebird told Ann softly. ‘‘He used to take unwilling women, and he stole my mother—’’

  ‘‘But that’s no reason to hit his son!’’

  ‘‘And he taught his sons that they should always control themselves.’’ Rurik also spoke softly.

  Konstantine took a deep breath. His complexion, already pale, turned gray. ‘‘Was she a virgin?’’

  ‘‘Yes.’’

  Ann lunged again, wanting to claw her way forward.

  Firebird spoke in her ear. ‘‘Today, he found out I was pregnant by a son of a bitch. Not to mention he has adopted you as his own. He’s angry with Jasha, and he’s protective of you.’’

  Konstantine slapped Jasha’s other cheek, and the sound echoed through the house. ‘‘How dare you disrespect everything I taught you? Have you no honor? How dare you violate an innocent girl?’’

  Ann wrestled herself free and bounded forward. ‘‘How dare you hit him? You have no right!’’

  ‘‘Ann. It’s okay.’’ Jasha still knelt beside his father, the marks of Konstantine’s fingers clear on his cheeks.

  Konstantine looked up at her. ‘‘You are the daughter of my heart. I would do the same to any man who took you. But Jasha—it is worse that it is Jasha, for he is truly my son. I have every right to discipline him. I taught him better.’’