Blood Awakening (36 page)

Marquis reflected back to Kristina the spirit she
had been at birth.

The perfection that had been created by her human god
long before she entered the world.

He revealed her immeasurable value and beauty to
her, while displaying her strength of character—her unique wit and charm, the
determination she had used to survive. He presented her with her divine
reflection and showered her in the light of her infinite being: a perfect woman
without scars, failures, or regrets.

He showed her who she truly was beneath all of the
tragedy.

Kristina twisted and turned, trying to wrench away
from the overwhelming light of her being. The pure experience of self-love clashed
with so many years of self-degradation, but Marquis held firm until she finally
let go and began to weep. He tightened his arms and held her until the warmth
had washed all of her tears...and shame...away.

He had not only shown her a side of herself she
had been lost to, but in doing so, he had shared a compassionate side of
himself that
no one
had ever seen. Not even his brothers or Ciopori. It
was the least that he owed her—and the most powerful gift that he had to give
her.

Kristina slowly pulled away and wiped her eyes. She
tried to utter
thank you
, but the words stuck in her throat. Finally,
collecting herself, she whispered, “You and me, I guess we’ve got a couple
secrets of our own now, huh?”

Marquis smiled. “Most certainly.” He would never
betray such a private moment.

She nodded then and started to turn back toward
the house.

“Kristina...”

She glanced over her shoulder.

“There will always be a special place in my heart for
you.”

Kristina sniffled and nodded. “Yeah…I know what
you mean.” She let out a deep breath. “So there’s no hard feelings…about...anything...then?”

Marquis smiled a mischievous grin. “
S’all good
,”
he said, emphasizing her typical vernacular.

Kristina’s smile was absolutely glowing, her soul
shining through. “Indeed, warrior.
Indeed
.”

The two of them laughed out loud.

Marquis checked the time on his black, Corum,
stainless steel watch:
three a.m.
Exactly forty-eight hours since he had
commanded Ciopori’s conception. “Are you ready, my love?” he asked, hardly able
to contain his excitement.

Ciopori looked down at the unsightly monstrosity
that had become her midsection over the last two days and nodded decisively. “Yes!
Because if this keeps on growing, I’m going to explode.”

Marquis bent down and nuzzled her cheek, stopping
to place a soft kiss on her lips.
His very own wife. His very own soul-mate
.
His destiny
. And now, it was time to meet
his son
. How had life
gone from so barren to so full in the blink of an eye? How could he have
believed the gods had forgotten him, when all along they had been preparing
such a rare and beautiful gift?

He sighed, and then he began to gather his energy
into a focused stream of light, connecting it to the two beating hearts in Ciopori’s
womb. With an eloquent prayer, spoken in the ancient language, he called his
sons from the cramped chamber they had so briefly shared to the full breadth of
the world, commanding them to come to their father.

Small prisms of light filled the bedroom like a
thousand shimmering rainbows, the interconnected colors hovering in a radiant
arc until a distinct halo formed above the bed, and then a rhythmic, hypnotic
sound filled the room: white water rushing in a river, the steady drumbeat of
life humming in harmonic, expanding waves. From beneath the crest of the halo,
gold dust began to gather, swirling in soft circles above Ciopori’s pregnant
belly, turning like a soft funnel, the ether connecting above, below, and
within.

Ciopori propped herself up on her arms and stared
in rapt wonder at the phenomenon occurring before them, while Marquis held his
concentration steady, gently urging the children from their slumber with his will,
intending them into the world with his power.

The first of the two infants began to crystallize.
The clear outline of a child appeared in gradual waves of light directly above
the protruding belly, and then steadily, the outline began to fill in. The rushing
sound of water increased, and the heartbeat grew louder, more insistent, as
light became tissue and ether became flesh.

Instinctively, Ciopori reached toward the child,
her eyes filled with tears of wonderment, but a stern growl from Marquis forced
her retreat. The midnight black hair was as familiar as his own, but the
blood-red bands running through it left no question as to which child had
chosen to emerge first: It was the Dark One—the one who would remain nameless.

“Look away, my love,” Marquis commanded. His voice
was as steady and calm as the night.

Ciopori blanched, staring at him in shock. “No,”
she argued defiantly, “I at least want to see—”

Without hesitation, Marquis closed her eyes and
gently turned her head to the side. Although she tried to resist him, her
fledgling vampire skills were no match for his enormous powers. “Please, do not
resist me.”

The baby cried then, a loud insistent wail, his
eyes glued to his mother as if he knew she was his only hope for salvation. But
there was no salvation for the one born of darkness, created without a soul,
the property of a curse that sought to draw its own essence back to itself in
an eternal cycle of vengeance.

And there could be no compassion.

“Marquis?” Ciopori’s voice was trembling with
uncertainty. “This is insane.
He’s a child
. A baby. How could my sisters
do such a thing?” Her powerful maternal instincts pushed back against his
control. Her eyes opened, and her head turned just enough to allow a side-long
glance at the howling infant. “Look at him! He’s beautiful. Oh Marquis, he
looks like you.”

Marquis reached out and took the infant into his
arms before Ciopori could make the mistake of touching him. A similar thing had
happened with Nathaniel when Jocelyn gave birth to Storm, and the incident had
quickly escalated out of control.

Nachari,
Marquis called out telepathically to
his youngest brother, not wanting to involve Nathaniel, whose own memories of
sacrifice were still too raw,
Ciopori is resisting; I require another set of
arms.

Nachari materialized beside the bed so quickly
that Marquis had to do a double-take. The look in the wizard’s eyes was all
business. He glanced momentarily at Ciopori and inclined his head. “Greetings,
sister.” He turned to Marquis and held out his arms. “Brother.”

Having been released from Marquis’s restraint, Ciopori
looked back and forth between the two brothers and frowned. “Marquis, let me
see our son.”

Marquis handed the babe to Nachari without emotion
and turned to his mate. “You will see him the moment he is born,
iubirea mea.
I assure you, I will place our son in your arms immediately.”

Ciopori sighed and glared at him hard. “Do not
play games with me, warrior. I know full well what and who this baby is, and I
repeat—
let me see our son
.”

Nachari looked questioningly at Marquis but kept a
firm hold on the infant, who was now squirming, crying, and kicking his legs.

“Nachari!” Ciopori snapped. “Do not act as if you
are deaf. I am not some neophyte to be coddled. Hand me the child.”

Nachari’s stern eyes met hers for a brief moment before
turning back to Marquis. “I am sorry, little sister; I am bound by obedience to
my brother.”

As if understanding the dilemma, the child began
to dematerialize right in Nachari’s arms, pulled by the powerful intent of the
Celestial Being on the bed. As his form began to take shape in Ciopori’s arms,
Marquis swept a hand around the body in a hasty circle, building an
impenetrable holding cell around the newborn, and then he swiftly handed him back
to Nachari.
He is surprisingly powerful. You must take him from the room
before he draws any further on her compassion.

Nachari nodded.
Shall I call Napolean to take
him to the chamber on your behalf?

“Stop talking in front of me!” Ciopori’s eyes
flashed dark with anger. She was clearly aware that the brothers were using a
private bandwidth to communicate.

No,
Marquis answered, ignoring his mate’s protest.
I will do my duty as soon as your nephew is born and Ciopori is at ease. Wait
for me in the front room.

Nachari frowned, appearing uneasy about spending
too much time alone with the infant, but he wasn’t about to argue. “As you
wish,” he said aloud, and then he dematerialized from the room with the infant
in his arm.

“How dare you!” Ciopori shouted.

Marquis hurried to the side of the bed and placed
his hand on her cheek. “Ciopori...please. I am not trying to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? You insult me!”

“Never—”

“You assume I am not strong enough to handle
seeing a child that I know we must relinquish. You assume that I am not in my
right frame of mind to make such a request.
And you use your superior powers
to force your will upon me?
Oh yes, Marquis, you insult me! How dare you
think and decide for the both of us.” Her eyes bored into his. “And don’t you
ever take control of my physical body again without my permission. Do you
understand me, warrior?”

Marquis was stunned. This was not the time for an
argument. This was supposed to be the second happiest day of his life
.

Women
.

What did she expect?

Of course his powers were superior to hers; and of
course he would always use them to protect her—as was his duty as her mate and
a warrior. Why would such a thing be an insult? And if he ever sensed she was
in danger, he would not only take control of her body, but of her mind and
spirit as well, if he thought it was in her best interest. Did she not
understand who she had mated?

Marquis looked away. Despite his resolve, her
words cut him to the bone. He would never, ever wish to hurt her. And as for
insulting her?
Dear gods
,
she was his superior in every way
. What
was he to do with this?

Ciopori
sighed and bit her bottom lip. She
reached out and took his hand. “My love, I know you mean well, but we will have
to...work on some of your ways. I wanted to see the child because I wanted to
understand what this curse has done to our males over the years…what kind of
abomination my sisters created. I needed to see the absence of his soul for myself,
to feel it
, in order to know that there was no sin in turning him over.”

“But you said he was beautiful, and you didn’t
understand what your sisters were doing when they made such a curse.
You
said that he looked like me.
I thought you might want to keep him.”

Ciopori frowned. “He is beautiful, and I do not
understand such a hideous thing, but I do not pretend to be a goddess or to
have the power to undo an ancient curse that has stood for millennia, nor have
I forgotten my time with Salvatore in the colony. I would not have asked you to
spare him. I would not have risked your life. Could you not have given me one
minute to reconcile what must be…within my own soul?”

Marquis shut his eyes. “I do not like this, but if
you wish, I will call Nachari back.” He sighed. “But before I do, I want you to
understand something: In my family, I am the first-born.”

She held his gaze with intensity and cleared her
throat. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“When my mother had Nathaniel and Kagen, she and
my father celebrated both births. When she had Nachari and Shelby, the same was
true. But when I was born, I shared her womb with a dark spirit, and the
nameless one who was my brother—
my twin
—was taken from my mother in the
same way...was taken from me. Do you think I have never wondered about him? Never
wished to have at least seen his face—to at least have the memory? Do you think
I have never wondered what if—what if things were different? I, too, have questioned
the cruelty of such a curse, but it is imperative that my faith remains
absolute. There can be no question as to what must be done now—or what my
parents did then. To see you hold that child...to once again think about my own
twin.... I, too, must live with this curse, Ciopori.”

Ciopori closed her eyes. When she opened them,
they were soft with compassion. “I’m sorry, warrior. I forget the history…the
depth of this curse.” She shook her head. “It is done. And you will do what is
required of you with strength and honor.” She placed her hand on her stomach
and rubbed it. “Now then, this one is having a fit, if you haven’t noticed. I
think he is in there screaming.
What’s the delay
! So, no, there is no
reason to return to the nameless one. Let us have our son.”

Marquis ran his hands through her soft hair. “Are
you sure? There can be no regrets—no resentment between us.”

Ciopori cupped his face in her hands. “This is a
bitter-sweet moment. How could a curse be anything else? But your words have
given me all the assurance I need, and there is only peace and love between us,
warrior. Now call our son, Marquis.”

Marquis stared into her beautiful eyes and felt
the wonder of her spirit all over again. “You are my peace,” he whispered, and
then he tuned in to the remaining child. With a soft apology, he repeated the
ancient prayer, and called him forth.

As the gold dust settled this time, and the
outline began to fill in, any question or worry was replaced with reverence and
awe. The male that materialized into his father’s waiting arms was positively
stunning. Like his mother’s and his father’s, his hair was the color of a
raven’s wing, blacker than the night, as refined as pure silk. But his eyes—his
eyes were positively captivating. A mixture of both parents, they were amber
and gold with swirls of blue in the centers like an exquisite painting—the color
of the setting sun beneath the horizon in a clear blue sky—and his features
were chiseled like his father’s, with his mother’s nobility. This male’s beauty
would one day rival even Nachari’s.

Marquis smiled, suddenly unsure of what to do with
the squirming entity before him. He tested his arms and legs for strength and laughed
when the child kicked and flailed his arms in response to his touch. “He’s
strong.”

Ciopori giggled. “Of course he is.”

As she struggled to sit up, Marquis reached out to
help her with his mind. “Does that offend you?” he asked, still unsure of the
rules.

Ciopori just shook her head. “No, you silly man. Boy,
do we have a ways to go—good thing we have all of eternity to get there.” She
reached out and made a cradle with her arms. “May I?”

Marquis nodded quickly. “Absolutely.” As he placed
the baby in her arms, her face lit up with pride and love. Two angels. And both
belonged to him.

“We haven’t chosen a name yet,” she said, offering
her pinky to the infant’s strong grip and then nuzzling his nose. Tears streamed
down her face as she laughed and smiled and made faces at the beaming little
child.

Marquis placed his hand on his son’s head and
gently stroked his satiny hair. “While the names of today are…colorful…I much
prefer those of the Middle Ages. Strong, proud, solid names.”

Ciopori smiled. “And what did you have in mind?” The
baby hiccupped, and they both laughed.

Marquis shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps something
with meaning: warrior or conqueror.”

Ciopori sighed. “But of course. This child really
doesn’t have a chance at being anything else, does he? Perhaps a wizard or a
justice?”

Marquis frowned. “Are you kidding me, woman? Absolutely
not. By age five, he will be an expert marksman.”

Ciopori tickled his tiny belly, and he squirmed. “Don’t
worry,” she whispered in a soft voice, “I will make sure that you get to choose
your own path.”