Night's Mistress

  “You have no idea.”

  “I hope you don’t think this is rude, but I can’t help wondering . . . how do you feel about being human again?” Savanah asked.

  “I hated it at first, but now”—Mara placed her hand on her belly—“it’s not so bad. I hope I have a little boy who’ll be as handsome as your Abbey is pretty. Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “What’s it like for you, being the only mortal in a family of vampires?”

  “To tell you the truth, it was a little strange at first, even a little scary, but Rane’s been wonderfully supportive. And I love the rest of his family, although Roshan can be a little intimidating at times.”

  “Yes, Roshan,” Mara said thoughtfully. He was less than five hundred years old, and yet, even before she had given him her blood, he had been a powerful vampire. She wondered who had made him. Odd that she had never thought to ask. Of course, it didn’t matter now.

  Savanah bent over the crib to stroke her daughter’s downy cheek, then turned and led the way back downstairs.

  Rafe, Kathy, Cara, and Vince were sitting in the living room with Rane and Kyle. Rafe gained his feet and gave Mara a hug; then, holding her at arm’s length, he said, “It is good to see you.”

  “It’s good to see you, too.”

  “Are you all right?” He glanced at her swollen belly and smiled. “This will take some getting used to.”

  “Don’t tease her, Rafe,” Cara said. “The last few weeks of any pregnancy are uncomfortable, at best.”

  “I am not teasing.” Keeping hold of Mara’s hand, Rafe led her to the sofa and gently drew her down beside him, so that she was sitting between himself and his wife.

  “When’s the baby due?” Kathy asked.

  “Soon, I think. I’ve been having contractions all day.”

  “All day?” Kyle exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you. Besides, I’ve been having them for weeks. The doctor said they were just Braxton Hicks. Nothing to worry about.” Mara bit down on her lower lip. “But they’re coming harder now, and closer together.” She groaned softly. “I think I’m in labor.” She had no sooner spoken the words than she doubled over as a sharp pain threatened to cut her in two.

  “Mara!” Kyle darted across the room and dropped to his knees in front of her. “What should I do?”

  “Make it stop!”

  “No!” Kyle shook his head in vigorous denial. “You can’t be in labor. It’s too early!”

  Mara groaned as another contraction took her unawares. “Tell that to the baby.”

  “Maybe it’s false labor,” Cara suggested.

  “I don’t think so,” Kathy said, coming up behind her mother-in-law. “Her water just broke.”

  “All right, everyone, just calm down,” Savanah said, quickly taking charge. “Kyle, carry Mara into the guest room, last door on the left at the end of the hall. Kathy, find some clean towels. Cara, we’ll need some hot water. Rane, you’d better call your grandparents. They might want to cut their vacation to Italy short. Rafe, we’ll need something to cut the cord, and one of Abbey’s blankets to wrap the baby in.” She glanced around the room. “Now, people! Move!”

  Mara groaned as Kyle picked her up and carried her down the hall.

  “It’ll be all right,” he said. “I’ll be right here beside you.”

  Savanah slipped into the guest room behind Kyle. She turned on the light and folded back the covers on the bed. “The contractions are coming pretty fast,” she said. “I don’t think this will be a long labor.”

  “It’s already too long,” Mara said, gasping. “It hurts!”

  “It’s supposed to hurt,” Savanah said with a rueful smile.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, Kyle reached for Mara’s hand, wincing as her fingers closed tightly around his.

  Mara groaned again. The pains came hard and fast, more painful than anything she had imagined or expected, worse than anything she had ever known. She remembered staying out too late soon after Dendar had turned her. She had barely outrun the rising of the sun. She recalled the pain that had consumed her when the sun’s light had touched her flesh. Even that hadn’t been as bad as this. She choked back a cry, unable to imagine how any woman in her right mind, having endured the agony of childbirth once, would willingly go through it all again.

  She clung to Kyle’s hand as the contractions came, one hard upon the heels of the other. Was it always like this, she wondered. Maybe something was wrong . . . She groaned as another contraction threatened to split her in half.

  “Try to breathe through the pain, like this,” Savanah said, demonstrating the technique she had been taught in her Lamaze classes.

  “Forget Lamaze,” Rane said curtly. “Mara, look at me.”

  She followed the sound of Rane’s voice and saw that he was standing beside the bed.

  “That’s right.” He took a step closer. “Stay focused on me. Only me.”

  Nodding, Mara gazed into his eyes, eyes that burned with a dark inner fire.

  “You can do this,” Rane said, his voice low, hypnotic. “You don’t feel the pain anymore, just the urge to push. Listen to your body and push when you need to.”

  “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. Sh
e 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.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  “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.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  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.