Authors: Tessa Dawn
Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Dark Fantasy, #Romance
he whispered.
Leaning back, he continued. "The male will remain in our society as a fledgling until his one-hundredth birthday. It is at that time that he is sent to the sacred homeland of our forefathers, the Romanian University in Europe, where he will study for the next four-hundred years in order to master one of the Four Disciplines.
"So as I said, Shelby and Nachari were only twenty-one, about to undergo their induction ceremonies, when the valley was attacked by a large group of vampire hunters, humans and lycans alike, who had joined forces in an effort to extinguish our kind—"
"Why in the world would humans want to kill vampires—
yet accept the lycans?" Jocelyn shook her head.
Nathaniel rubbed his jaw. "Good question. Human-kind has an interesting history when it comes to hating anything they fear at the moment, do they not? I think you summed it up well the night of the storm: the enemy of my enemy is my friend. The problem is, humans are always changing who and 406
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what they fear at any given time period. I have lived to see Christians killing Catholics only to later join together to oppress the Jews. I remember not so long ago, here in North America, when the Europeans feared the Native Americans and slaughtered them as savages, only to later form alliances with some of the southeastern tribes in order to enslave the Africans. Fear is an irrational council."
Jocelyn frowned. "I bet you have seen a lot of...things...that don't make it into the history books." She sighed. "So the humans and the lycans attacked the valley together. What happened after that?"
Nathaniel tried to shut down his heart, to simply close his mind to the memory. He spoke the words in a rote voice...like a robot. "My mother was murdered by the Alpha male of the lycans, and my father went mad with grief."
Nathaniel turned away in an effort to steady himself. He was disappointed: He should have been better at this by now.
He blinked several times, trying to stay his tears; he would not cry over this loss...again. He had already shed enough tears over the centuries to flood the entire valley.
"We believe Keitaro was either murdered as well or he killed himself...that he followed my mother into the Valley of Spirit and Light. But we never found his body. He simply disappeared one night shortly after her burial and was never seen again."
Jocelyn gasped, her hands coming up to cover her mouth.
"I'm so sorry, Nathaniel." The statement was a mere whisper.
Nathaniel cleared his throat. "If my father had lived, we know he would've come back to us after all of this time. So 407
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we eventually assumed his death, but we were never able to bury him...to say good-bye."
He took a long deep breath, knowing his pain was showing despite his effort to keep it at bay. "I was especially close to my mother, so her death weighed heavily on my conscience...as a warrior...one who could not protect her. But Marquis and my father were best friends. I think my father always made an extra effort to connect with him because he was the only one of us boys who did not have a twin. His disappearance almost destroyed my brother."
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?"
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"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 409
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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.
* * * *
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 410
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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.
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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."
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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 413
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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.
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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.