Black

by Donya Lynne

  Something else must have happened tonight. Something big. Bigger than finding out Ronan was his brother and his father was still alive.

  Once in their bedroom, she stuffed the last bite of toast in her mouth and dusted bacon crumbs off her fingers then pulled open the dresser drawer that held the tank tops and boy shorts she used as pajamas while Micah stripped and made for the bathroom.

  “Just let me take a quick shower. Then we’ll talk.”

  “Okay.”

  Normally, he would ask her to join him, but she got the feeling he wanted the extra time to get his thoughts together before he told her whatever it was he needed to say. Besides, she’d already showered an hour ago, before she took her reprieve on the patio.

  While she waited for Micah, she changed into a pair of red boy shorts and a pink tank top then rubbed lotion up and down her legs and arms. Then she climbed into bed and waited for Micah to join her.

  She didn’t have to wait long. Two minutes later, he shut off the shower. Less than a minute after that, he reentered the bedroom naked as the day he was born. God, could that man—male—rock a birthday suit. Just . . . damn!

  But he wasn’t oozing let’s-fuck-like-rabbits-for-the-next-hour like he usually did. Tonight, he was all business. The grim set of his brow and the tension in his jaw made it clear he was worried about her reaction to what he was about to tell her.

  Sam hugged her knees to her chest as he pulled on a pair of black flannel pants and a black T-shirt.

  “The suspense is killing me,” she said, trying to sound lighthearted amid all the strained silence shooting out of him.

  “I’m sorry.” He released a thick exhale and painted a stiff smile on his face as he shut off the light on the dresser. The only light remaining came from the small lamp on her nightstand. “It’s just been a long fucking night.” He brushed his palms down his face. “A lot of shit got thrown at me after I left you at the apartment.”

  “I’m starting to get that impression.”

  He approached the foot of the bed, climbed over the low footboard, and crawled up the mattress. He pushed her knees apart, slid his torso between them as she settled back against a mound of pillows, wrapped his arms around her, and laid his head on her stomach. “But now I’m here. I’m with you”—he lifted his head, pushed up her tank top to expose her belly, and planted a tender kiss just below her navel—“and with my babies.” He kissed her stomach again, right next to the scar left over from her human life, a reminder of the hell she’d lived through to get here. “Can you hear me in there?” His whiskers brushed her skin.

  She combed back his hair with her fingers, smiling at the way he stared at her stomach as if he could see the twin babies growing inside her.

  What could she expect from carrying a vampire’s young? Was it harder than carrying a human baby? Would the morning sickness be more ruthless? She’d heard Micah talk about how sick Tristan’s mate, Josie, got during the first trimester of her pregnancy. Tristan had even taken a leave of absence from AKM to tend to her, it was so bad. Could Sam expect the same?

  “God, I can’t wait to meet you.” He kissed her tummy again then placed his palm over her belly and fell still.

  She knew he could feel them through their energy. No doubt, he was monitoring them to make sure there was nothing wrong.

  “Can you tell what sex they are?” she asked, holding still.

  He moved his hand a little to the right then closed his eyes. When he opened them, he smiled. “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “Are you sure you want to know? You don’t want to be surprised?”

  “I want to know.” Were they having two girls? Two boys?

  “One’s a boy and one’s a girl.”

  Even better. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “A boy’s energy resonates at a lower frequency than a girl’s. I feel both.”

  “How sure are you?”

  “Ninety-nine point nine percent.”

  Okay, so they were definitely having a boy and a girl.

  “Can you tell how long I’ve been pregnant?”

  He pressed his hand against her belly again and closed his eyes. “Maybe three weeks.”

  Not even a month. She tried to think back and come up with when she conceived, but it was impossible. She and Micah had a lot of sex. Almost every day. He was damn near insatiable. Then again, so was she.

  His eyes slowly opened before he nestled against her again, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his cheek to her stomach. “I love you. I love you so damn much.”

  “I love you, too.” She played her fingers through his hair, letting her nails gently scratch his scalp.

  Perfect moments like this—sublime, peaceful, and time-stopping calm—were rare with Micah. There always seemed to be something happening. Some crisis that needed his attention. Fires that destroyed dormitories, for example, thrusting them into emergency mode to ensure everyone was safe and had a roof over their heads. She loved the excitement and diversity, but she loved this side of her mate even more. The side he didn’t get to show her nearly enough, but which she knew existed even when he was kicking ass and taking names.

  She allowed the transcendent moment to go on for a couple more minutes then said, “So, what is it you need to talk to me about, baby?”

  After all, perfect flashes in time aren’t meant to last. They’re meant to grant the recipient a greater appreciation for the good times when they happen.

  He sighed, kissed her belly one last time, and pushed himself away from her body. “I liked what you thought just now. About perfect moments.”

  She was too at peace to be angry at him for peeking inside her mind again. “You did, huh?”

  He settled beside her, reclining against a mountain of pillows, and wrapped his hand around hers. “We don’t get these moments nearly often enough.”

  “No, we don’t.” Why did she feel like this had something to do with what he wanted to talk to her about?

  He inhaled deeply and released his breath in a long, heavy exhale as he squeezed her hand. “You know what I told you earlier? About quitting my job?”

  She bit her bottom lip. She hadn’t yet decided how she felt about that. On one hand, she liked the idea of him being around more. On the other, she worried he would just get in her way out of boredom. And now that she was going to be working at AKM as a nurse, him quitting his job wasn’t really going to give them more time together, anyway.

  “What about it?”

  He lifted her hand onto his lap and encased it with both of his. “There’s been a change in plans.”

  Chapter 25

  “You’re what?” One second, Sam was reclining against the pillows beside him. The next, she was sitting on her knees, facing him. She’d moved so fast, if Micah had blinked, he would have missed it.

  “I’m King Bain’s cousin.”

  Her eyes popped wide, those dainty brows encroaching on her hairline. “His cousin?”

  He’d known this would blow Sam’s mind. “Yep.”

  “What are you saying? That you’re royalty?” Her green eyes were wide and full of questions as she stared at him like he’d just told her he’d grown a sixth toe on each foot.

  He had to admit, the whole royalty thing was still a shock to him, too.

  “That’s what I’m saying, yes. I’m of royal blood.” Was that ever weird to say out loud. “My bloodline extends all the way up to the first king of our race, King Cato. I’m descended from one of his sons, a male named Rysk. King Bain is descended from Rysk’s brother, Ryland. That makes us cousins.”

  “Cousins.” Sam relaxed on her haunches and dropped her dismayed gaze to the bed. “Holy shit.” The words came out as a whisper.

  “There’s more.”

  “More?”

  Hadn’t he spent the entire night thinking the same thing?

  “Hard to believe, I know, but yes.”

  Her eyes
locked onto his, but it was as if she were only half aware. As if her brain had locked onto I’m royalty and couldn’t quite shift to the next gear.

  “I need you to focus, baby.” He took her hands and shook her arms.

  She gave him an agitated nod. “I’m focused. I promise. I’m just . . . okay, wow. Royalty. Yeah. But really, I’m focused.”

  He went on to explain about Rysk the Second and Argon. How he was related to them, as well, and that Argon was the rightful leader of the drecks, which meant Micah carried not just royal vampire blood, but also royal dreck blood. How Bain wanted him to be crown regent. No detail was spared.

  He revealed all that he’d learned about his father’s “death.” About why his father had been sequestered all this time. About how his ancestors were being systematically murdered in an effort to kill the line that linked him back to both sides of the war.

  The more Micah divulged, the more stunned Sam became.

  An hour later, he quieted. He held both her hands in his, and from the thoughts coursing through her mind, she was processing everything he’d told her faster than he had, quickly coming to terms with it.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She blinked and nodded then shifted position, crossing her legs and settling in beside him, facing him. “I’m starting to understand why you came home in such a stupor.”

  “Like I said, I got hit with a lot of shit tonight.”

  “You can say that again.” She shook her head and breathed out. “Is there anything else?”

  “Just one more thing.”

  “Ah, Jesus. You saved the best for last, didn’t you?”

  He shrugged. “It all depends on how you look at it.”

  “Well, hit me. I’m not going to let this conversation end until I’ve heard everything.”

  That’s what he liked about Sam. She was a rip-the-Band-Aid-off kind of person, too.

  “King Bain wants me to head up a covert black ops team.”

  Her slender eyebrows popped high into her forehead. “Black ops?”

  He nodded, careful not to read too much into the surprised worry rocketing through her thoughts.

  “What exactly does that mean? What would you be doing?”

  He told her about Bain’s plan.

  “Sounds dangerous.”

  “No more dangerous than what I’m doing now. Only I won’t be hampered by stupid rules that actually put me in greater jeopardy than if I didn’t have to follow them.”

  Sam scooted off the bed and began pacing. “What you’re saying about hitting Searcy, Bishop, and Royce where it hurts . . .? Can’t that be construed as an act of war?”

  He hopped off the bed and secured her hands in his, stopping her worried movement. “War is already upon us, Sam.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Haven’t you heard everything I just told you? The Dacians and the drecks have formed an alliance. They’ve built an army. They’re intentionally weakening the vampire race, putting us in harm’s way. They’re already preparing for war. And there’s only one reason for someone to prepare for a war during a time of peace. They plan on starting one.”

  Her shoulders fell as the air rushed out of her. “War? This is seriously coming to war?”

  He stroked his thumbs over the backs of her hands. “It’s been this way for hundreds of years. Thousands. Long periods of war have been broken by shorter periods of peace. This is the longest peacetime we’ve ever experienced, but whether we like it or not, war is coming.”

  “And this black ops team is meant to hasten that?”

  “Not if I can help it.” He let go of her hands and raked his fingers through his hair. “I’d like to think we might be able to hold it off, or at least buy us some time to prepare. By joining with the lycans and making some precision hits to cripple their operation, we could considerably push back their timetable. Maybe even put off an attack indefinitely. I don’t know.” It was his turn to pace. “I know it’s risky, but it’s no riskier than being an enforcer. And if I can put together the right team and find a way to hit the drecks where it hurts for maximum impact, our kids might have a chance to grow up in a world where they don’t have to think about this godforsaken war.”

  Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face her. She searched his face, her eyes full of respect and admiration. And love. There was most definitely love in her eyes. Her hands wrapped around his reassuringly. And in the same way he’d calmed her only moments ago, she calmed him.

  “Do you want to do this?” she asked.

  “It’s a lot of responsibility.” The fate of the entire race could depend on how well he built and ran his team.

  She sighed and squeezed his hands, giving him a pointedly impatient grin. “Do you want this?” she asked again, emphasizing each word for maximum impact.

  He stared into her eyes, knowing whatever answer he gave, she would support it. That was his Sam. Stalwart. A rock. Unshakeable and determined, even for him.

  “Do you?” she asked again, speaking more quietly and giving him a little nod.

  He shifted his hold on her hands and pulled her closer. “Yes. I do.”

  “Then do it.” Her eyes sparkled.

  “But you’re worried for my safety.”

  “Baby, I’m always worried for your safety.”

  “Yeah, but you’re more worried than usual.”

  “That’s only because I don’t know what to expect, yet.” She let out an abrupt breath. “And I think part of my concern is that I don’t want our kids to have to live in a world torn by war.”

  “War is inevitable.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.”

  He let go of her hands and pulled her into his arms. “I know, and maybe now we can create permanent peace.”

  “Do you really think that’s possible?”

  He released her and shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. Everything just feels different this time. With the lycans joining us. With Argon revealing himself after all this time.” He pulled her back to the bed and sat down on the edge. “It feels like everything’s coming full circle.”

  “Maybe it is.”

  He looked at her. She was smiling at him in the way that always made him feel like the luckiest male in the world.

  “War or no war,” she said, “this is what you’ve been wanting, right? A way to do your job without all the rules getting in the way?”

  She’d had to listen to him bitch about being hog-tied by the terms of the truce ever since he’d mated her. Of course she knew what running his own team meant. To be granted free rein over how ops ran. Never having to answer to anyone but himself. He was a kid set loose inside a toy store with a limitless credit card. He could have anything he wanted.

  “Yes.”

  Sam sat back down on the bed. “So, you’re going to accept?”

  He joined her. “I wanted us to decide together.”

  Sam inched closer and reverently wrapped her hand around his, letting her fingers slide firmly between his, instilling him with the feeling that she was handing the power completely over to him. “I think you should do it.”

  “Even though I told you earlier I was going to quit?”

  Her head tilted to one side. “I didn’t actually believe you’d quit, Micah. You need the action too much.”

  He turned to face her, pulling his legs up onto the bed. “If I take this on, it could mean longer hours—”

  “Not necessarily.” She mimicked his body language, turning to face him, too. “You’ll be in charge. And black ops missions can usually be pulled off in less time than a full shift walking the streets, right? I mean, if they’re anything like human military ops, you’ll have weeks of planning and recon followed by a few hours of execution.”

  This was another thing he liked about Sam. With her military background, she could speak his language.

  “Okay, but my job will be more dangerous. You were right about that.”

  “It was dangerous before. Now yo
u’ll be able to minimize the risk by planning for every contingency outside the normal rules of engagement you’ve had to follow as an enforcer. You’ll have more options to protect yourself.”

  “But—”

  “Micah, just do it. Quit trying to talk yourself out of it when I know the idea of running your own black ops team has got to curl your toes.”

  “What about you and the babies?”

  “What about us?”

  “You’re my responsibility. It’s my duty to look after you.”

  She sighed and nodded patiently. “I know, I know.” Her voice took on a caveman-like quality. “You, big bad male. Me, weak female. You take care of me.”

  “I’m not that bad.”

  The look she gave him could have frozen water. “Really?”

  He rolled his eyes at the image of him she’d painted as some kind of modern-day Tarzan. “I don’t think of you as weak.”

  “Oh, I know, but sometimes I think I need to remind you that I did manage to take care of myself for almost thirty years before I met you.”

  “Technically, your parents took care of you until you were eighteen.”

  “Well, technically, I took care of myself. No disrespect to my parents, because they were great parents, but I was always independent, taking no shit from anyone.”

  Images of a young and feisty Sam danced provocatively through his mind.

  He shifted closer, his knees touching hers. “That was then, this is now. And as a mated male vampire, I’m supposed to protect my mate and my children.”

  She patted her stomach. “We’ll be fine.” She dropped her hands to his knees and rubbed up and down his thighs encouragingly. “Accept the job, baby. You know you want to, and, honestly, you were made for it. It’s the perfect job for you.”

  Despite the worry still haunting her mind, Sam was giving him the green light. She wasn’t going to let her fears rob him of this opportunity. If he wanted to accept Bain’s offer, she wasn’t going to put up any roadblocks to stop him.

  “What if we have to move?” he asked, recalling what Bain had said about relocating.

  “Fine.”

  “What if I told you a security detail would be assigned to you at all times?”