Blood Redemption (19 page)

She nodded, feeling suddenly bereft; for he hadn’t really changed. He had only gotten
lost in a moment of passion and anguish. He had given in to the desperate need to
escape his grief, if only for a moment, but he was still the same fire-breathing dragon.
“I won’t,” she said forlornly.

She would not forget the life he had lived up until now, the brutality he had inflicted
upon the house of Jadon, or what had brought him to these circumstances to begin with.
And he was right to remind her.

Still, she had new memories to add to her cache now: She would not forget his intelligence
or his consideration, either, the keen perception that led him to seduce her with
such uncanny insight into her longings, nor his innate responsiveness to her needs.
And she would not soon forget the surreal moment when Saber Alexiares, caught up in
the throes of passion, realized that he had taken a virgin and chose, instinctively,
to carry the full burden of her pain upon his own shoulders—to shield her from discomfort
at his own expense.

No, she would not soon forget.

“Do not worry,” she repeated. “I will remember
always
, Dragon.”

Vanya sat at the antique French dressing table in the upstairs guestroom at her sister’s
house, staring into the exquisitely framed mirror while trying to brush out her long,
bountiful hair with a refurbished animal-horn brush she had managed to hold onto from
the time before the Long Sleep. Crude as it might be, it was a keepsake that had belonged
to her mother, and her mother before that. Using the simple, rudimentary tool always
reminded her of her early childhood, before all the insanity, and calmed her nerves.

It had been nearly twelve hours since she had left Saber’s cell, and she felt restless
to say the least. Placing the palm of her hand flat against her stomach, she tried
to quell her nerves. The last thing she needed was to alert Ciopori or her brother-in-law
to the events that had transpired the night before. She could hardly believe what
had occurred herself.

A soft knock rattled the heavy wooden door, and Vanya took a deep, steadying breath.
“Yes?”

“It’s me, Vanya. May I come in?” Ciopori’s lyrical voice pierced the lingering solitude,
and Vanya knew it was time to face the music: She could hardly put her sister off
any longer.

“Of course, sister,” Vanya replied, trying to speak in a pleasantly dispassionate
voice.

Ciopori turned the knob. She pushed the door open and sidled through the narrow opening,
her long black hair sashaying as she walked. Truly, she was a rare beauty. “Good evening,”
she called cheerfully.

Vanya smiled. “Good evening. And how is Marquis this night? Nikolai?”

Ciopori positively beamed at the mention of her favorite males. She rolled her lovely
golden eyes and began to chitchat about the latest antics in the Silivasi house, hardly
stopping to take a breath, when, all at once, her face went slack, her hands flew
up to her cheeks, and her expression turned grave with concern. “Dearest goddess Andromeda!”
she exclaimed. She rushed across the room, removed the brush from Vanya’s hand, and
pulled her up from her seat, nearly causing her to stumble.

“Ciopori!” Vanya chastised, snatching her wrist back from her sister. “Whatever has
gotten into you?” Surely, the female was not
that
perceptive. True, Ciopori was not only an original celestial-human being but also
a vampire now, with all the powers and enhanced perception that entailed, but taking
one look at her little sister and knowing she was no longer a virgin? Impossible.

Ciopori shook her head from side to side, slowly trailing her gaze up and down Vanya’s
slender body. As her examination grew more discerning, her eyes began to grow misty
with pressing tears. “What…” Ciopori whispered, biting her lower lip. She took a deep
breath as if she were trying not to hyperventilate. “When…” A tear escaped her eye,
and she quickly brushed it away. “How did this happen?”

Vanya was more than a little concerned. She felt her knees weaken, and she wondered
if her face wasn’t growing pale.
Oh hell
, Ciopori knew. But how?

“It’s not what you think,” she said, rushing the words like an errant teenager who
had just been caught by her mother. Of course, it was exactly what Ciopori was thinking,
but surely, Vanya did not have to explain her actions to her older sister. “I can
explain,” Vanya said, ignoring her own indignation.

“Did he force you?” Ciopori asked. “When!” She turned toward the door in alarm. “Marquis!”

Vanya moved swiftly then. She snatched her sister by her elegant arm, tugged her forward,
and thrust a curved hand over her mouth. “Be quiet! I mean it!” She gestured wildly
with her hands. “Are you insane?” She eyed the door, listening for Marquis’s heavy
footsteps pounding down the hall, praying he wouldn’t just materialize in the room.
“Do you want to get me killed? Do you want to have all hell break loose in this valley?”
She took a calming breath and held her shoulders back, trying to maintain a semblance
of dignity. “I mean it, Ciopori. I will not have it. You are my sister—not my mother—and
you will not bring Marquis into this.”

Just then, the door to the guestroom flew open, and Marquis Silivasi filled the door
frame like a velociraptor hovering in an otherwise peaceful sky, his six-foot-two,
massive physique consuming the space like a prehistoric menace about to descend on
its prey. “What is it?” he demanded, his phantom blue-black eyes flashing an instant
crimson-red before returning to their usual threatening hue. He was scenting the room,
eyeing the contents, and feeling for errant energy all at the same time—all instinctive
reactions for an Ancient Master Warrior in the house of Jadon, a lethal weapon trained
to identify the enemy and strike without mercy, all in the space of a single heartbeat.
He stepped toward Ciopori, and she quickly sidestepped in front of Vanya to block
his line of sight.

“Uh, ’tis nothing, Warrior,” Ciopori said with a sheepish smile. “I…overreacted.”

“To what!” Marquis growled, the tone of his voice making it abundantly clear that
he was not in the mood to play games.

“To…uh…” Ciopori swallowed so hard, her throat convulsed from the effort. “To Vanya
mentioning that she would like to see Saber again.”

Marquis’s intense glare shot from Ciopori to the trembling princess hiding behind
her; and Vanya could have sworn that he stared right through his mate to glare at
her with x-ray vision. “Over my dead body,” he growled.

Vanya struggled not to pass out.

Dear gods
,
if the Ancient Master Warrior knew what had transpired—

She quickly cut off the thought.

It wasn’t even worth the risk of
think
ing
it
in his presence.

Luckily, Ciopori intervened on Vanya’s behalf. “Those were my sentiments exactly.”
She stepped forward toward her mate, using more than a little feminine charm in the
sway of her hips, and his appreciative eyes followed as intended. “But I do believe
I’ve acted too hastily.” She placed a soft hand on Marquis’s iron-hard chest and pushed
against him, failing to budge him an inch. “You should let me talk with my sister.”
She glanced over her shoulder, and her face grew ashen. “These are matters better
discussed between women.”

Marquis looked at Ciopori suspiciously, turning his nose up in disapproval. “I’ll
wait outside the door,” he said in a stern
that’s-my-final-offer
tone of voice.

Ciopori sighed. “Marquis, that isn’t necessary.”

He cut his eyes at her in disapproval, although the actual sentiment behind the glare
was more of a mixture of undisguised love and concern. “My mate trusts me implicitly.
She knows that I would move heaven and earth for her—or her younger sister—yet she
stands in our home and lies to me as if I am too foolish to hear the rapid pace of
her heart, too dense to note the downward cast of her eyes, or too oblivious to make
note of the fact that she has used magic to distort the scents in this room. And Vanya,
she hides behind you like a captive bird.” He waved his hand in dismissal, letting
them both know he wasn’t interested in a false explanation. “No, Ciopori. I will wait
outside the door for five minutes, while the two of you sort this…whatever it is…out.
And then I will enter again like the esteemed male I assume I am to you; and I will
expect to hear the truth.” With that, he simply shimmered out of view, somehow slamming
the door behind him.

Ciopori turned to Vanya and cringed. “Well then!”

Vanya winced. She hadn’t meant to get her sister into so much trouble. “Is he going
to behead you or something?” She was truly concerned.

Ciopori frowned. “No, he’ll calm down. He’s just…you know…Marquis. He doesn’t get
concerned; he gets tyrannical. And when he’s tyrannical, he is not an easy vampire
to deal with.” She held up her hands in exasperation. “We will deal with that in a
moment.” At that, she reached for Vanya’s right hand, held it up in the air in order
to expose the trunk of her body, and stared pointedly at her stomach. “By all that
is holy, sister”—her voice caught in a sob—“tell me what happened.”

Vanya was beyond confounded.
For heaven’s s
ake!
Yes, Saber was a monster, a Dark One as far as everyone in the house of Jadon was
concerned, but Vanya was not a child. And this reaction was way over the top. How
dare Ciopori stare at her womb, as if pointing out some violation. Not only did it
lack respect, but it was completely absent of decency. “To begin with,” Vanya said
sharply, being careful to keep her voice to a whisper, “I think it bears pointing
out that I don’t owe you, Marquis, or anyone else an explanation. I am an adult. But
for the record, yes—since it’s so obvious—I spent the night with Saber.” She spat
the words out bluntly, knowing that they sounded unnecessarily harsh, but believing
it was better to just get it out in the open.

Ciopori practically wilted, her elegant shoulders slouching in defeat. She forced
herself to straighten, and she nodded. And then she held her tongue for what seemed
like an impossible expanse of time. When at last she chose to speak, her voice was
flat and to the point: “Then your conversion? It was…quick…and relatively painless?”
She sounded absolutely astonished. “You are yet Vampyr then?” She turned her head
to the side, evaluating Vanya from head to toe as if staring at a whole new person
for the first time, a changed species.

“Excuse me?” Vanya said, surprised. “Well, no wonder you’re so upset. There was no
conversion. No commitment.”

Ciopori staggered back. She clamped her hands over her heart spontaneously, and her
chest visibly shook. “What?”

Vanya frowned. “I…I…spent the night with Saber. I did not agree to be his
destiny
in every way, to fulfill the Curse with him, or to spend the rest of my life with
him.” She sighed, wishing she could explain it better, even to herself. “I can understand
if you’re disappointed.”

Ciopori let out a short, anguished cry, unable to conceal her mounting emotion. “Disappointed?”
she echoed. “
Disappointed
? Oh…gods.” She staggered where she stood before slowly reclaiming her balance. “Oh,
gods!
No
!”

Vanya felt the very real edge of panic creeping up on her. “I’m fine,” she insisted.

Ciopori could barely draw breath. “You are not fine, sister. You are with child!”
She clasped a hand over her mouth and pointed at Vanya’s stomach.

Vanya looked down.

The words seemed to float around her more than reach her ears, her consciousness,
and she had to struggle to comprehend what Ciopori was saying. “What do you mean?”
She watched as her stomach gently rolled beneath her skirt, taking note of the protruding
midsection where a flat, well-toned stomach had been only hours before; and then she
thought about the nausea and lightheadedness she had been experiencing all day. She
had thought it was just her nerves, the ever-increasing realization of the events
that had taken place the night before. “No,” she whispered, “that’s not…possible.”

Ciopori reached out an arm to steady herself against a nearby bedpost, and then she
slowly lowered herself to the mattress in shock. She was virtually speechless.

“Ciopori?” Vanya said, growing increasingly defensive. This wasn’t funny at all. “Ciopori!”

Ciopori shook her head slowly from side to side, and then the tears began to stream
down her cheeks in uncontrollable tracks of grief.

Vanya took three unwitting steps back, as if she could simply walk away from the truth.
“No,” she muttered. “That’s not possible.”

A dim flash of hope crossed Ciopori’s eyes. “Then you didn’t actually…lie with him?”

Vanya frowned. She was so confused. What was happening? “No…I mean, yes; but he would
have had to call it into being,
command
a pregnancy. I never heard him do that.”

Ciopori collapsed on the duvet. “He doesn’t have to do it out loud. He only needs
to wish it, think it…
want
it.”

Vanya grew deathly quiet, even as her body stood stock-still. She didn’t move. She
didn’t breathe. She didn’t even feel.

She couldn’t.

The moment—the meaning behind her sister’s words—was beyond her reckoning.

Saber Alexiares had commanded a pregnancy without converting her first. He had made
her with child while she was yet
human,
and that meant only one thing:
forty-eight hours from the time of her conception, Vanya Demir would die an absolutely
excruciating death as the dragon’s unborn sons clawed their way out of her body, taking
her mortal life with them as they were born.

Vanya could hardly meet her sister’s eyes.
By all the
gods, she had been so stupid
!

So naive.

What had she been thinking?

Saber was a monster, a demon from the Valley of Death and Shadows itself, as far as
she was concerned, and he had acted true to his nature all along.
M
ay
h
is blackened soul
be damned
, he had warned her, hadn’t he?

Yet, she hadn’t listened.

She had been determined to save the dragon from her dream—to bring something of great
consequence and value back to the people—and just like her dream, the dragon had scorched
her without mercy.

Vanya slowly made her way to the bed, her trembling arms and legs shuffling absently
along the floor as if a puppeteer were working them. Staring blankly ahead, she gently
sat down beside her sister on the wrinkled duvet and curled up beside her. She wrapped
her arms around Ciopori’s trembling shoulders, all the while fighting to hide her
own terrible fear, to conceal her mental anguish. There was nothing she could do now.
The die had been cast.

The king, and certainly Kagen, would see to it that she didn’t suffer unnecessarily,
even if they had to euthanize her before that fatal moment. As it was, she had never
belonged in this world—this time—or this valley. There was simply no place for one
such as her, and now her fate had been decided for her.