Night's Mistress (Children of the Night) (19 page)

“You can do it.” Kyle’s voice, filled with love and encouragement.

“That’s right,” Rane said quietly. “The pain is gone now. There’s only pressure and the urge to push.”

Miraculously, the pain receded. In a distant part of her mind, Mara knew he was using his preternatural power to mesmerize her, but she didn’t care. Caught in the web of Rane’s enchantment, she lost all track of time. There was only his voice holding the pain at bay, urging her to push when she felt the need, telling her that everything would be all right.

“We’re almost there,” Savanah said. “I can see the head. Lots of black hair. One more good push should do it.”

“Come on, sweetie,” Kyle urged, squeezing her hand. “You’re almost through.”

“Push, Mara,” Rane said quietly. “You want to push, hard, now.”

Helpless to resist his command, she gathered her strength, gritted her teeth, and pushed.

“Here it comes,” Savanah said. “One more good push and you’ll be holding your baby in your arms. Oh, my.” Tears filled Savanah’s eyes as the baby slid out of the birth canal and into her waiting hands. There was nothing in the whole world to equal the marvel of watching the birth of a new life. “It’s a boy!” she exclaimed, cradling the infant in her hands. “A perfectly beautiful little boy. Kyle, do you want to cut the cord?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said.

There was a flurry of activity. Kyle cut the cord while Kathy wiped Mara’s brow. Savanah bathed the baby and then wrapped him in a blanket.

Lifting her head, Mara looked at her son for the first time. One look, and she knew why women through the ages had been willing to endure the pains of childbirth. Her heart swelled with a rush of love such as she had never known existed.

“You did great,” Kyle said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “He’s beautiful, but not as beautiful as you.”

“Girls are beautiful,” Mara murmured. “Boys are handsome.”

“Well, this boy is beautiful,” Kyle said proudly.

Mara smiled weakly, then groaned softly as Kathy pressed on her stomach to expel the afterbirth.

After that, everything passed in a blur until Savanah said, “Here’s your son,” and placed a tiny, blanket-wrapped bundle in Mara’s waiting arms.

Mara looked up into a sea of smiling faces. “Thank you,” she murmured. “All of you.”

Amid a chorus of good wishes, Rane’s family filed out of the room so that Kyle and Mara could be alone.

Mara looked at Kyle. “He is beautiful, isn’t he?”

Kyle nodded, his expression tender as he glanced from Mara to their son and back again. “I love you.”

She was supposed to say the words back to him. She knew it, but she couldn’t seem to force them past her lips. And then she looked at the baby sleeping in her arms, and the words came easier. “I love you, too. Thank you . . . for this.”

Mara brushed a kiss across the baby’s cheek and then, her eyelids fluttering down, she fell asleep.

Kyle blew out a sigh as he gazed at Mara and his son. Life was very nearly perfect, he mused. Would, in fact, be perfect, if he could just silence the little voice in the back of his mind that wouldn’t let him forget that his beautiful, perfect, newborn son could very well be a vampire.

 

“You promised me a baby, Tom. Where is it? Where’s my baby?” Janis Ramsden stood in front of the fireplace, her hands fisted on her hips. A single blood-tinged tear slid down one cheek. She was a pretty woman, tall, with russet-colored hair, skin as pale as alabaster, and heavily lashed, light brown eyes. Even after a century of life as one of the Undead, Janis maintained an air of youthful innocence that was both endearing and annoying.

“Dammit, Janis, it’s not my fault Mara took off,” Ramsden replied heatedly. “How was I supposed to know she’d do such a stupid thing?”

“You must have done something, said something . . .”

“I didn’t.”

“You promised me a baby. My arms are empty, Tom. So empty.”

The pleading note in Janis’s voice stoked his anger. He had brought her across after he’d found her lying in the road, a victim of a hit-and-run. Even at the point of death, she’d had a fragile beauty that he had been unable to resist. He hadn’t asked her permission. He had taken her blood and given it back to her, then carried her home. He had been by her side when she succumbed to mortal death, been at her side when the change took place and she had awakened to a new world. She had been like a child, untouched, innocent, and he had been there to teach her, to guide her, to help her find her way in her new life.

For a time, knowing that Janis needed him, that she couldn’t survive without him, had been an incredible high. Her presence in his life had added an element of freshness, an excitement that had been sorely lacking for over a century.

But in the last few years, Janis had taken it into her head that they needed a child to make their lives complete. Tom had been less than enthusiastic about the idea of adopting a baby until Mara came along. Mara, who had regained her humanity and lost her preternatural powers. The mystery of it had revitalized him.

Janis’s sobs drew him back to the present. For a moment, he regretted having brought her across, but what was done was done. He had made her and he was responsible for her for as long as she lived . . .

Shaking off a sudden, unwelcome thought, Ramsden closed the distance between them and drew her into his arms. If . . . when . . . he found Mara’s child, he would need Janis to look after it.

A baby! Ramsden swore softly. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? If Janis was this desperate for a child of her own, there were probably others of their kind who yearned to experience parenthood. A cure for vampirism would undoubtedly make him rich, but finding a way for vampires to reproduce would make him richer still.

And Mara held the secret to both possibilities. Excitement spiraled through him. She could make him rich. Famous beyond his wildest dreams.

“I’ll find her,” he said. Even now, he had his people looking. Now that she had lost her preternatural powers, she couldn’t hide from him forever.

And then he frowned. Perhaps it wasn’t Mara who held the secret at all, but the human male who had planted his seed within her.

 

Mara stirred, frowning as the insistent cry of a baby reached her ears. For a moment, she thought it must be Rane’s daughter. Grimacing, she flopped over onto her stomach and dragged a pillow over her head, only to come fully awake a few moments later. It wasn’t Abbey Marie making that perfectly awful racket. It was her own beautiful baby boy.

Being careful not to wake Kyle, Mara eased out of bed, then padded barefoot across the floor to the cradle that Savanah had thoughtfully provided.

“Hush, now, my sweet angel,” Mara crooned as she picked up her son and kissed his baby-smooth cheek. “You’re much too tiny to make such a dreadful noise. If you’re not careful, you’ll wake everyone in the house.”

Mara shook her head, bemused by the wave of motherly affection she felt for the infant in her arms. Did all new mothers feel this way? Had Eve been awed by the miracle of birth when she held Abel in her arms, amazed that she and Adam had created something so tiny, so perfect? Were all new mothers as terrified by the prospect of being wholly responsible for something so small and helpless? Had her own mother ever felt this wave of tender devotion? Probably not, Mara decided, or else her mother would not have abandoned her and left her to die.

Mara remembered that time in her life as clearly as if it had happened only days ago. She had been terrified when she woke up, alone in the dark. She had prayed to Bet, the protector of children, for help, but none had been forthcoming. She had cried for her mother, but no one had answered her cries. Frightened and hungry, she had wandered through the city, begging for food, stealing when necessary, afraid to close her eyes at night for fear someone would find her and sell her into slavery or worse. At a time when she should have been learning how to sew, cook, and keep house, she had been struggling to learn how to survive on the streets. Her dress, made of linen, soon grew dirty from sleeping on the ground. She’d had no shoes, but then most people had gone barefooted back then, although they had worn sandals on rare, special occasions. And then one night, one of Pharaoh’s slaves had found her huddled beneath a tree. Mara had fought him as best she could, but her childish fists were no match for a man full-grown. Tucking her under one arm, he had taken her home to Pharaoh’s house. She had spent the next ten years as a slave in the king’s household. She hadn’t liked being a slave. Even as a child, she had disliked taking orders, but she had been grateful to have a roof over her head, food to eat, clean clothes to wear.

Mara brushed a kiss across her son’s cheek. “I’ll never leave you,” she whispered. “No one will ever abandon you, or hurt you. I swear it on my life. I’ll see that you have everything you ever want, everything you need. Yes, I will, you beautiful little boy, because your mother loves you very much.”

He was such an adorable baby, with his dimpled hands and feet. She never tired of looking at him, holding him. His hair, as fine as down, was inky black. She wondered if his eyes would stay gray, like Kyle’s.

Moving to the rocker in the corner, she sat down and put the baby to her breast. Nursing her son was both painful and pleasant. Savanah had assured her that, after a short time, the discomfort would go away.

Mara smiled faintly as she stroked her son’s cheek. Had she known motherhood was this wonderful, she might have wished for a return to humanity centuries ago. Never had she ever felt so fulfilled, so needed, never experienced such love for anything or anyone else.

“Now there’s a picture I’ve got to paint.”

Mara glanced at the bed to find Kyle sitting up and watching her, his lips curved in a faint smile. He made quite a picture himself, she mused, with his hair tousled and the sheet pooled in his lap. For a moment, she wished it was Logan sitting there.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, looking down at the baby. “We didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No big deal.” Kyle stretched his arms over his head, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t get over how beautiful you are.” Indeed, he had never seen anything more stirring than the sight of Mara nursing their son. Faint rays of sunlight leaked into the room, bathing the two of them in a golden glow reminiscent of Old World paintings of the Madonna. “Both of you. Have you decided on a name for our boy?”

“No. I was thinking of Cleopatra if it was a girl.”

“It’s probably just as well that we had a boy then,” Kyle said with a wry grin. “Can you imagine how the other kids would tease a girl with a name like that?”

She nodded absently. Odd that she had named Vince’s twin sons, but she couldn’t decide on a suitable name for her own child. “How about Derek?” Kyle suggested. “It’s a bit old-fashioned, but it was my maternal grandfather’s name. He was a wonderful old guy. Used to make me kites. I remember he taught me how to ride a bike, and how to fish and row a boat. He lived a good, long life.”

“You don’t want to name your son Kyle?”

“Maybe the next one.”

“Derek,” Mara murmured, trying the name on her tongue. It was a good name, a strong name. “Yes, I like that.”

“So, now that we have a name for our son, don’t you think it’s time his mother married his father?” Rising, Kyle pulled on his jeans, then knelt in front of her. “Be my wife,” he said, his dark eyes filled with tenderness. “I want to fall asleep at your side every night, and wake up in the morning with you in my arms. Say yes, Mara. Say you’ll marry me, and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy.”

Mara stared at him. She had made her decision to stay with Kyle weeks ago, so why was she hesitating now? Why did she suddenly hear Logan’s voice in the back of her mind, thick with hurt and anger as he declared his love for her? Not for the first time, she found herself wondering if it was possible to be in love with two men at the same time.

Why had she let her foolish pride come between herself and Logan? And yet, even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew she had chosen Kyle because they were equals. Because she could control him in a way she would never be able to control Logan. But what did it matter now? She had walked out on Logan twice. He wasn’t likely to take her back a third time.

“Mara?”

Kyle was looking up at her, waiting for her answer. “Yes,” she said slowly. “I’ll marry you.”

Kyle smiled at her for a long moment, his throat too tight for words, and then, very gently, he kissed her. “I love you,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’ll love you for as long as I live.”

She forced a smile, already regretting her decision.

 

 

“You’re getting married!” Savanah exclaimed when Kyle made the announcement later that evening. “Oh, I think that’s wonderful. Congratulations, you two! When’s the happy occasion?”

“I’m not sure,” Mara said. “Not for five or six weeks.”

“Well, of course not,” Savanah said with a knowing grin. “You’re still recovering from having a baby. No sense getting married until you can have a real honeymoon.”

“You’ve got that right!” Kyle exclaimed, then looked at Mara. “Hey, I’m kidding.”

Mara smiled a bit self-consciously. Derek was living proof that they had already had the honeymoon.

“We haven’t set a date yet,” Kyle said, giving Mara’s hand a squeeze, “but I’m ready whenever she is.”

“What kind of wedding did you have in mind?” Rane asked.

Mara shook her head. “I really don’t know.” She looked at Kyle. “Do you?”

“Anything you want is fine with me.”

Anything she wanted . . . In her time, there had been no formal marriage ceremony in front of a priest, although there was a written contract, which included the wedding date, the names of the bride and the groom, as well as the names of their parents. It was also customary to list the husband’s profession, the name of the person who drew up the contract, and the names of three witnesses. When a young man and woman decided to wed, the man made a payment to the bride’s father, and bestowed a gift of gold, silver, or other precious stones on the bride. Once an agreement was reached, the bride moved in with her future husband. Of course, back in those days, the woman might be as young as thirteen and the man only fifteen or sixteen. A wedding was naturally a festive occasion. There would be a lavish feast, with dancing and singing and toasts to the happy couple. When the bride and groom departed for their new home, it was customary for the guests to throw green wheat, the symbol of fertility, into the air. If the marriage didn’t work out, a divorce was easily obtained by either party. Usually, the husband paid support of some kind to his ex-wife.

“I don’t have any family,” Mara said, “except for Rane’s.”

“My folks are gone, too,” Kyle said, “so there won’t be anyone on my side of the church.”

“Small and intimate, then,” Savanah said. “You know I’ll be happy to help in any way I can, and I’m sure we can count on Cara and Kathy, too. Now, let’s see, you’ll need a dress, and a maid of honor and a best man . . . Rane and I would be happy to stand up with you, if you like.”

“Slow down, Savanah,” Rane said, grinning. “I think these are decisions that Mara and Kyle need to make on their own.”

“I’ve no objections to having you as my best man,” Kyle said.

“Savanah, you know I’d be pleased to have you as my maid of honor.”

“That’s settled, then,” Savanah said, giving her husband a smug look. “When you’re ready, we can go into town and look at dresses. Listen to me, running on like this. Rane’s right. This is your wedding. Maybe you don’t need a dress. I mean, if you don’t want to get married in a church . . .” Savanah’s voice trailed off.

“I’d like a church wedding,” Kyle said, “if Mara has no objections.”

“I guess it would be all right.”

“Maybe we could have the baby baptized at the same time,” Kyle said.

“I didn’t know you were so religious,” Mara remarked. She had been quite a believer, once upon a time, but that had been centuries ago.

“Well, I haven’t been to Mass in years,” Kyle admitted, “but marriage is a serious thing and should be done right. And baptism, well, it’s important.”

“You’re Catholic, then?” Mara asked, thinking she still had a lot to learn about her future husband.

“More or less,” Kyle said. “Is that a problem?”

“That means you’ll need a priest,” Rane said, glancing from Mara to Kyle.

Kyle nodded. “Definitely.”

“Father Lanzoni,” Rane and Savanah said in unison.

“Of course,” Mara said, smiling.

“Lanzoni.” Kyle looked at Rane. “He’s the priest that married the two of you, isn’t he?”

“And everyone else in the family,” Rane said with a grin. “I’ll get in touch with him, if you like.”

 

 

That evening, while Kyle was rocking the baby to sleep and Rane was out hunting, Savanah took Mara aside. “I hope you two will think about moving up here with the rest of us,” she said. “There’s a lovely old house not far from here. It’s for sale or lease.”

“I’ll mention it to Kyle,” Mara said, although she wasn’t sure she wanted to buy another house. Leasing would probably be best, at least for now.

“I hope he’ll agree,” Savanah remarked. “It would be nice to have some non-vampire friends close by.”

“Does Rane’s being a vampire ever bother you?” Mara asked. “I mean, it’s none of my business, but . . . never mind.”

“You’re wondering how I could have fallen in love with a vampire when one killed my father.”

“It’s crossed my mind from time to time.”

“Well, I didn’t plan to fall in love with him,” Savanah admitted with a faint smile. “I don’t think we choose the one we fall in love with. It just happens. I didn’t want to love him, but I do. I know he’s done a lot of bad things in the past, but”—she shrugged—“who hasn’t?”

Mara nodded. She was in no position to judge anyone. “It must get lonely sometimes,” Mara said, “being the only mortal in the family.”

“Not lonely, exactly,” Savanah said. “Cara and Kathy are wonderful women, and I love Rafe and his dad. And, of course, Roshan and Brenna are terrific, although they don’t spend much time here, but . . .” She blew out a sigh. “It’ll be nice to have someone to go to lunch with, you know?”

Later that night, while nursing the baby, Mara thought about her conversation with Savanah. Mara had to admire her courage. In spite of what Rane’s wife had said, it couldn’t be easy for her, being the only human in a nest of vampires.

 

In the days that followed, Mara discovered what it was like to live in a house where people loved each other. She hadn’t grown up in a home like Rane’s. She had never known her father, hadn’t spent much time with her mother. She had spent her early childhood in Pharaoh’s palace. Later, she had been a slave in Shakir’s household, and then, abruptly, Dendar had transformed her into a vampire and left her to fend for herself. Unlike most sires, he hadn’t stayed around to tell her what to expect, or to help her adjust to her new lifestyle, and then in a rage, she had destroyed him. Turned and alone, she’d had no one to look after her, no one she dared trust.