He actually rolls his eyes at me. “You’ve never thought of it before?” he presses.
“No! Why would I? I can’t think of anyone who would want to do that. It would be like being parents together or something…” I trail off, my eyes going wide as saucers as I apparently reach the conclusion he was hoping for.
“What?” I squeak, as he unlocks the door and pushes it open.
A massive cloud of dust swirls out of the room. We both cough and wave our hands about trying to clear it.
“Sorry, I have not opened this room in several hundred years,” he says in between coughs.
I spot several hundred years’ worth of dust piled onto every surface as my Vampire night vision kicks in. He strolls in to open the heavy curtains, again creating a dust storm to be proud of…not.
My mouth drops open in horror as I see the room clearly now. Closing it again quickly in distaste and dust, I turn in a circle, my eyes bugging out of my head.
“It’s a nursery,” I croak, as my eyes take in all the furniture of a centuries-old nursery.
He is studying my reaction closely with a closed expression.
“Start explaining, D’Arcangelo,” I say, rounding on him in stupefaction.
His set mouth lifts on one side at my last-naming him, but then resumes a grim line as he sees I am not altogether clear on what he is showing me.
“In 1506, before I left you, I was so in love you, Aefre. I was happy. I had never been so happy. With you, with us, and our planned life together. It took you so long to get over what Lance did to you; I was worried for a really long time you wouldn’t ever be yourself again. When you came back to me, we had our difficulties, but when you started talking about a future for us again, I was overjoyed. I wanted nothing more than to make you my wife. No, that’s incorrect,” he says, stopping briefly to organize his thoughts. “I wanted you to be my wife, but I did want more than that. It wasn’t enough. I wanted something that would hold us together forever. Our Vampire bond wasn’t enough, a marriage commitment wasn’t enough. But a child, our child was what I wanted.”
My ears are burning with the intensity of his words; my head is spinning so fast, I think it’s going to fly right off my body.
“What?” I stammer. “What? How would that have even been possible?”
“A human child created especially for us by parents we chose. Given to us at birth to raise, aware of our nature, until her eighteenth birthday. We would then have given her the choice to stay human or be turned and be with us forever. Our child. Co-sired by you and me.” He finishes up his master plan and in utter distress, I pass out.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
C oming to in a pile of dust, my head on my batshit crazy sire’s lap, I sit up suddenly.
“Are you insane?” I snap at him.
He just looks at me mildly in that infuriating way of his. “I take it then that you are not a fan of children?” he says blandly.
“Children are just fine. But do I look like I want one of my own? Or, part own? Or whatever the Hell,” I mutter.
“Hm, there’s more,” he says again but I just can’t cope with this anymore.
Calling my abandoned Scotch to me from the alcove, I down it in one gulp when it appears. Calling his as well, I down that one but it’s still not enough.
“I can’t cope with anymore, Constantine. It’s too much. It’s all just too much,” I say.
“You were to be a mother, Aefre,” he blurts out before I can protest further. “Before Radulf stabbed you and I turned you, you were with child.”
I shake my head in utter disbelief. “No. That isn’t possible. It wasn’t possible. I couldn’t get pregnant. I went two years without getting pregnant. It wasn’t possible,” I say again more firmly.
“My love, you were. I heard the heart beating, so softly. At first, I didn’t know what it was. It took me several days of being with you to figure it out, to separate the beating from your own. Once I did, it was clear to me,” he explains cautiously.
I stand up suddenly, putting my hands up. “No! I don’t believe you. You are wrong. Wrong!” I yell at him and then make a run for it. I’m not entirely sure where I’m going, but I need to get away from him, from all of this. I head downstairs and outside. It is dark now as I flee to the gardens I used to love. I half expect him to follow me, but I’m relieved when he doesn’t. I’m unsure why I’m so mad with him. Maybe because he waits a thousand years to tell me I was pregnant with my rapist husband’s baby before I was mortally wounded and turned into a Vampire, effectively killing my unborn child. Or is it because the life he wanted to offer me before he was a stubborn fool sounds so appealing, or the life he wanted for us before I was a stubborn fool? How is it that he kept all of this so close to him that I had no idea how or what he was feeling until it’s too late? Until I’m married to my weeks-old charge, that I love more than anything. Well, maybe not anything, not anymore. Talk about ripping my marriage apart at the seams. I accepted his ring, we agreed to the terms and yet it seems that he wins anyway by dropping massive bombshells on me that have rocked me to my core. Yes, I am mad at him. Furious, in fact, that he could do this to me. Calling on the trusty pack of cigarettes from his bedside table and the Scotch from the kitchens, I light up and pop the lid, drawing deep on the cigarette and then the Scotch in turn. As my mad starts to dissipate, I realize with dread, that all of this is actually my fault. I was the one who dredged up the past. He seemed quite happy to leave it alone, but I had to pick at the loose thread until it all unraveled at my feet in a big pile of shitty worms that should have been left in the can. Okay, so I know I’m mixing my metaphors, but I don’t really care about that
.
What do I care about? Let’s see. I start a conversation with myself, never a good start to any story. I begin with Devon. He isn’t involved in any of this, so he is safe. A nice, safe subject to think about, my darling boy whom I love dearly. That thought leads to our company and everything we have built together. Also, a nice, safe, pleasant subject. I pick up the bottle of Scotch and my wedding rings clink against the glass. That brings Cole to mind. We love each other so much. So much that he asked me to turn him and I did. But since then I have caused him nothing but pain. Okay, maybe it hasn’t all been pain, but pick out the highlights and it hasn’t been a funfest for him. I think of my other husband, Fraser. Seeing him last week, so real, his arms around me, his lips on mine, makes me choke back a sob and push his memory away. That brings me to my next topic, the Power. This mysterious She Power that surges through me, making everything seem so much worse than it really is. Except in this case. This is just really as bad as it is. And so, my thoughts come full circle back to Constantine Kaius Anasetti D’Arcangelo. My formidable sire who can scare the crap out of me with just one look. Talking about babies? Fuck me. I really do think I’ve heard it all now and I start laughing. I think vaguely it is hysteria setting in. The old gods know I have enough to be hysterical about. As I laugh myself out of energy, I realize I need to feed. I am hungry, tired and I can smell AB Neg around here somewhere. Hoping it isn’t coming from the dungeons, I stand up to try and find the source.
I turn to see a large, very attractive, toweringly tall man hovering on the edge of the hedge.