Night's Mistress (Children of The Night 5)
“I won’t deny it. As idiotic and petty as it sounds, I’ve been jealous of the boy. I told you that before. I did some research, and it’s quite common for men to be jealous of a new baby. But Derek is your son, and I’ll love him for that reason alone. As for his being here”—he shrugged—“it’s getting easier having him around. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Drawing her into his arms, he held her close, content, for the moment, just to hold her and then, tilting her head back, he claimed her lips with his in a kiss that held nothing back. Mara, Queen of the Vampires, was his, for now and forever.
“Mara?”
Breathless from the intensity of his kiss, she met his gaze. “More.”
He brushed a kiss across the top of her head. “Derek should have a father,” he said. “I always wanted it to be me, so, will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
“Is tomorrow night too soon?”
She frowned. Was he serious?
Logan blew out a sigh. “I guess we should wait a while.”
“Perhaps.” Had she still been human, people would have expected her to mourn before contemplating marriage. But she wasn’t human anymore. Still, it was customary to have a period of mourning for the dead. Jewish people observed shivah, which lasted seven days. Parents mourned the death of a child for a year. In old England, a widow was expected to dress in mourning for as long as four years. Black was the traditional color for mourning in most parts of the world, although queens in medieval Europe and Spain had worn white.
If she married so soon, there were those who would call her callous, unfeeling, but those who knew her would understand. It wasn’t indifference to Kyle’s death. She grieved for his loss, but nothing would bring him back. She had offered him a chance at a new life, and he had rejected it. “I don’t want to wait too long.”
“Just you and me and the priest, okay?”
“No one else?” she asked, thinking of the Cordova family.
“Just our son.”
Mara caressed his cheek, thinking that she had never loved Logan Blackwood more than she did at that moment. As for Vince and his family, she hoped they would understand.
Mara contacted Father Lanzoni later that night, and he agreed to come to her house in the Hollywood Hills the following week to perform the ceremony.
After hanging up the phone, Mara found herself again having second thoughts. Was she doing the right thing? She had just buried her first husband. Was she being disrespectful to Kyle’s memory? Maybe she should have told Logan they needed to wait a few months, she thought, and then shook her head. She was Nosferatu, no longer bound by the customs and mores of ordinary people. She had nothing to prove to anyone. Perhaps it was wrong of her to marry Logan so soon after Kyle’s demise, but it didn’t feel wrong. In fact, nothing had ever felt so right.
Chapter Forty-six
The next week passed quickly. With Logan’s help, Mara moved her belongings from the house in Porterville to the house in the Hollywood Hills. Before they left, they spent one night visiting Vince and Cara, another with Rane and Rafe and their wives. It felt good to be with them again, to know she was again their equal and not an outsider.
“We’re going to miss you,” Savanah said. “I’m going to miss you. Promise me you’ll keep in touch.”
“She’d better,” Rane said with mock severity.
“You know I will,” Mara promised. “And you’re always welcome to come for a visit. I’d like Derek and Abbey to be friends.”
“Of course,” Savanah said, smiling.
On the ride home, Mara couldn’t help feeling a little guilty for not telling the Cordova family about her upcoming marriage.
She slid a glance at Logan. They had agreed not to sleep together until after the wedding. Mara found it endearing that Logan wanted to wait. On one hand, it seemed a little silly; after all, they had made love many times before. But Logan had insisted this was different. They were starting a new life together, and he wanted to start it right.
The night of the wedding, Father Lanzoni arrived with the setting sun.
“So,” he said, taking Mara’s hand in his. “What I sensed the other night is true. You are one of us again.”
“Yes, thanks to Logan.”
“I sense no weakening in your powers,” the priest remarked, “but then, I suppose that was to be expected. You turned Logan, after all. His blood is yours. And so . . . no regrets?”
“No. This is who I am.”
The priest nodded. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, Logan went downstairs to get the baby.”
“The child is well after his ordeal?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve decided to raise him yourself?”
Mara nodded. “Since I’m not bound by the Dark Sleep, I can look after him day and night.”
“And Logan? How does he feel about having a child in the house?”
“He’s adjusting,” Mara said. She knew Logan had a weakness for infants, knew there were times when it was difficult for him to be around Derek, and yet he genuinely cared for her son. “He loves Derek because he’s mine, and because, well, who wouldn’t love him?” She made light of the question, but she knew about Logan’s past, knew how he felt about children.
Logan arrived with the baby just then. Father Lanzoni grinned at the sight of the tall rugged-looking vampire lovingly cradling a baby in his arms. It was a sight he didn’t see every day, a sight rarely seen in their world.
“Are we ready then?” the priest asked.
Logan took Mara’s hand in his. “Yes, Father.”
“It pleases me to be here,” Father Lanzoni said. “I can feel the love you have for one another, and for the child. There are those of us who have turned our backs on our humanity, those who prey on mortals like savage beasts. And then there are others, like the Cordova family, who have managed to rise above their instincts.
“Mara, I sense a change in you, a softening, a gentling, if you will, brought about perhaps by your recent experiences not only as a mortal, but as a mother. And so it gives me great pleasure to join the two of you in marriage.
“Mara, will you take Logan, here present, to be your lawfully wedded husband for as long as you both shall live?”
“I will.”
“Logan, will you take Mara, here present, to be your lawfully wedded wife for as long as you both shall live?”