Chapter
35
Elena awoke, not knowing what had
happened or where she was, only that she was cold. A quick glance
at her surroundings showed that she was in a wooden shed of some
kind. Pale sunlight filtered through a small, dirty window set high
in one wall. A chill wind howled outside, rattling the door,
creeping through the cracks in the old building, making her
shiver.
A shiver born of fear rather than the
cold slithered down her spine when she realized her hands were tied
behind her, and that the brown lump in the corner was moving,
standing.
As Elena’s vision cleared, a scream
rose in her throat, but no sound emerged.
Hatred mingled with lust in Tavian
Dinescu’s sunken eyes. And then he slapped her. “You little whore,”
he said with a sneer, and struck her again, harder this
time.
Elena’s head snapped back, her ears
ringing from the force of the blows.
She stared up at him, fear turning to
raw terror when she looked into his eyes—his crazy mad eyes. He was
going to rape her, here and now, she thought. And then he was going
to kill her.
“My baby . . . please . . . don’t . .
.”
“Shut up!” Grabbing the cuffs of her
maternity jeans, he jerked her pants down over her hips, leaving
them bunched around her ankles. Her panties followed.
She was sobbing now, alarm for her
unborn baby clawing at her mind as Dinescu shoved her down on the
floor. Her bound hands dug into her back, but she was hardly aware
of the discomfort. She rolled onto her side in a vain effort to
crawl away, but it was impossible with her hands tied. Impossible
because there was nowhere to go.
She cried out when his fist slammed
into her side and then he was flipping her onto her back again, his
lips pulled back in a leer. He hit her again, his enjoyment plain
on his face as she screamed.
He was going to rape her.
I will have you. His
threat, issued not long ago, echoed in the back of her mind.
Whatever he did, she had to endure it, she thought, had to survive
for the sake of her baby. And even as the thought crossed her mind,
she knew the baby would likely die from her uncle’s brutal assault.
If that happened . . . She thrust the thought from her mind. She
had to survive, for her baby. For Drake.
She squeezed her eyes shut when Dinescu
shrugged out of the bulky coat and began unfastening his
trousers.
This couldn’t be happening, she thought
desperately. It had to be a nightmare. She would wake up soon to
find Drake beside her.
She cried out when her uncle lowered
his bulk over her. Please,
she prayed fervently, please spare my
baby.
Tears leaked from her eyes as her
uncle’s hands moved over her, his touch repulsive, each stroke
making her feel dirty, defiled.
She tried to dislodge him, tried to
avoid his slobbery kisses, but he was too heavy, too determined,
and with her hands tied behind her back, she was helpless. His foul
breath made her sick to her stomach, his touch revolted her. Hot,
bitter bile burned the back of her throat, and spewed between her
lips when his mouth covered hers.
With a harsh cry of dismay, Dinescu
reeled back.
Elena turned her head to the side,
gasping for breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dinescu
raise his fists to strike her again. Abandoning all hope, she
closed her eyes and prayed for mercy.
But the blow didn’t fall.
She heard a hoarse cry, a sharp crack,
like a bone breaking. Curious, she opened her eyes a little,
squinting to see what was happening.
Relief washed through her when she saw
Drake. He was here. She was safe. A flood of tears released the
tension in her body as he reached for her.
“He will never hurt you again,” Drake
said, lifting her to her feet, gathering her in his arms. “On my
life, I swear no one will ever hurt you again.” He quickly untied
her hands. Swinging her into his arms, he held her close. Keeping
her face turned away from the body sprawled on the floor, he
carried her out of the shed, then transported them into the castle.
He would go back later to dispose of the body.
He kept a tight rein on his anger as he
gently lowered Elena onto the sofa in front of the fireplace,
covered her with the afghan, then started a fire in the hearth. He
stood there a moment, gazing into the flames, his hands clenched at
his sides. Dinescu would never know how lucky he had been, Drake
thought. If not for his concern over Elena and what she might think
if she knew what he was capable of, he would have torn the man limb
from limb and taken pleasure in his anguished screams.
“Drake?”
Wiping his face clean of emotion, he
turned to look at her, his gut twisting at the sight of her face,
swollen and black-and-blue where Dinescu had hit her. “Do you need
something? Aspirin? A cool cloth? Something to drink?”
She shook her head. “How did you find
me?”
“I woke up and knew you were gone. I
could sense your fear. I followed it to where you
were.”
“But it’s daytime.”
“I was never outside.” He had
transported himself from the castle to the shed. But he would have
come after her even if he’d had to cross a desert at midday to find
her. Would have walked through the hottest fires of hell itself to
bring her home. Kneeling on the floor in front of the sofa, he took
her hands in his. “Are you all right?”
“I think so. The baby . .
.”
Eyes narrowed in concentration, he
pressed one hand over her womb.
“Is she . . . ?” Elena bit down on her
lower lip.
“All is well. Her heartbeat is strong
and steady.”
Fresh tears welled in Elena’s eyes. “If
you hadn’t come in time . . . if . . .” Her tears turned to sobs as
the full horror of what had happened, what could have happened, set in.
Sitting on the sofa, Drake gathered her
into his arms, blanket and all, and rocked her back and forth. “It
is over,” he said, his voice low, soothing. “He is dead. Our
daughter is unharmed.” He spoke the last words, hoping they were
true.
Elena nodded, her body trembling
uncontrollably.
“Elena, beloved, look at
me.”
Capturing her gaze with his, he spoke
to her mind, his voice quietly calming her as he assured her that
he loved her, that she was safe, until she fell asleep in his
arms.
Elena awoke with a groan. Her body
ached, her face felt swollen where Dinescu had hit her, but those
weren’t the pains that had roused her from sleep. She pressed a
hand to her stomach. Was she having contractions? A gasp of alarm
speared through her. It was too soon for the baby to
come.
“Elena?” Awakened by the sharp intake
of her breath, Drake sat up.
“The baby, I think she’s
coming.”
He glanced at the hearth, igniting a
fire to warm her.
“Drake!” She clutched at his hand.
“It’s too soon.”
He swore softly. Had the trauma she’d
experienced at her uncle’s hands caused this?
She bent over, her arms wrapped around
her middle. “You need a doctor,” he said. And the best one he knew
was one of the drones at the Fortress. A look smothered the fire in
the hearth.
Gathering Elena into his arms, he
kissed her cheek, then transported the two of them to his apartment
at the Fortress. After tucking her into bed, he opened his senses,
then summoned the doctor to his room.
The drone, known as Doctor Samuels,
arrived moments later, medical bag in hand. A word released the
drone from the thrall that bound him.
“My wife appears to be in labor,” Drake
said, gesturing toward Elena. “See to her.”
With a nod, the doctor went into the
bathroom and washed his hands, then returned to the bedside. He
took Elena’s vitals, asked a few pertinent questions, then drew
back the covers to examine her.
Drake stood beside the bed, his arms
crossed over his chest. He had not prayed often in his life, but he
prayed now, prayed fervently for a miracle.
The doctor was still examining Elena
when someone knocked at the door. Before Drake could open it,
Liliana stepped into the room. She didn’t say a word, merely moved
to stand on the other side of the bed.
The doctor pulled the covers over
Elena, then looked at Drake. “She’s in the early stages of labor,”
he confirmed. “I will need some hot water and several clean
sheets.”
“I will get them,” Liliana said, and
left the room.
“You may want to help her into a clean
nightgown,” the doctor said.
Drake nodded. “Wait
outside.”
After the doctor left, Drake pulled the
covers from the bed, then undressed Elena.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide.
“I’m scared.”
“I know.” He found a clean gown in one
of the dresser drawers and slipped it over her head, then covered
her with one of the blankets. “Samuels is one of the best doctors
in the world.”
She grimaced at the onset of another
contraction. “Why didn’t you free the drones when you freed the
sheep?”
“I honestly did not think of
it.”
“You should. It isn’t fair to keep them
here. Or to keep one of the world’s best doctors imprisoned when he
could be helping lots of people instead of the few who live in the
Fortress.”
“Yes, wife.”
“But I’m glad he’s here now.” Elena
choked back a groan. “It hurts,” she wailed, clutching her stomach.
“I didn’t think it would hurt so much.”
Liliana entered the room just then,
with the doctor at her heels. She carried several folded sheets;
the doctor carried a basin of hot water.
“Drake,” Liliana said, dropping the
sheets on the foot of the bed, “I think you should wait outside.
Having a baby is women’s work.”
“No!” Elena exclaimed, grabbing one of
Drake’s hands. “Stay with me!”
“Whatever you wish, wife,” he said,
squeezing her hand.
With a humph, Liliana said, “Then at
least get out of the way so the doctor can do his
job.”
“He can work around me. I’m staying
right here.”
Liliana glared at him.
Drake looked at the doctor. “Is
everything all right?”
“Her labor has accelerated,” Samuels
said.
Elena moaned as her contractions came
harder, faster. She clung to Drake’s hand, her nails biting into
his palm.
“Push,” the doctor said.
Elena squeezed Drake’s hand harder, a
low groan rising in her throat as she labored to bring their child
into the world.
Unable to bear seeing her in pain,
Drake wrapped his mind around hers, shielding her from the worst of
it with his preternatural power.
“We’re almost there,” Samuels said. “I
see the head.”
Elena’s body tensed and then, taking a
deep breath, she pushed as hard as she could.
“That’s right,” the doctor said. “Just
one more push and you can hold your baby in your
arms.”
Drake wiped the perspiration from her
brow. “You can do it, sweeting,” Drake said
encouragingly.
Elena stared up at him, her hand
clutching his as she expelled the infant from her womb in a rush of
water and blood.
“It is a girl,” Liliana murmured. “A
perfectly beautiful little girl.”
Leaning down, Drake kissed Elena on the
cheek, then whispered, “I love you, wife.”
She smiled up at him. “I want to see
her.”
“The doctor is cleaning her up. She is
beautiful,” Drake said, “but not as beautiful as her
mother.”
Moments later, washed and wearing a
clean gown, Elena was sitting up, her daughter cradled in her arms.
“She’s so tiny.” She looked up at the doctor. “Is she all
right?”
“She’s strong and healthy, her lungs
are clear, her heart rate is good. I don’t foresee any
problems.”
“Thank you.”
“Doctor.” At the sound of Drake’s
voice, the doctor turned to face him. “You will return to your
quarters until you are needed.” There was a note of command in
Drake’s voice.
“Yes, Lord Drake,” he said, his voice a
monotone. Bowing his head, he left the room.
Elena pressed a kiss to the baby’s
brow, then smiled up at Drake. “She’s beautiful,” she murmured,
running her fingers lightly over the baby’s thick black hair. “I
wonder if her eyes will stay blue, like yours.” She looked up at
Drake’s mother, who stood near the bed, a rapt expression on her
face as she gazed at the baby. “Would you like to hold
her?”
“May I?”
“Of course.”
A smile spread over Liliana’s face as
she took the baby in her arms. It was, Elena thought, the first
genuine smile she had ever seen on the other woman’s
face.
“You beautiful little thing,” Liliana
crooned. “How I wish your grandfather was here to see you.” A
single scarlet tear trickled down her cheek. “He would have adored
you.”
Elena glanced at Drake, astonished by
the gentleness in Liliana’s voice, the love that shone in her
eyes.
“Have you chosen a name for her?”
Liliana asked.
“Yes,” Elena said, smothering a yawn.
“Kaitlyn Liliana, after her grandmothers.”
Liliana looked at Elena, astonishment
clear on her face, and then she looked at Drake. “You are going to
name her . . . after me?”
He was as surprised as his mother,
perhaps more so, but he managed to hide it. “You are part of the
family, after all.”
“Thank you, Drake. Elena.” Blinking
rapidly, Liliana handed the baby to Drake and vanished from the
room.
“What was that all about?” Elena asked.
“Why did she leave so suddenly?”
“I am not sure,” Drake said, “but I
think you may have just found the chink in my mother’s
armor.”
Elena slept most of the rest of the
day. Toward evening, Andrei and Katiya came to see Elena and the
baby. Elena couldn’t help feeling a little guilty that Kaitlyn was
strong and healthy when Katiya’s son hadn’t survived.
“She is lovely,” Katiya said with a
wistful smile. “May I hold her?”
Elena nodded. “Of course.” She noted
the sadness in Katiya’s eyes, the regret in Andrei’s.
Katiya cradled the baby in her arms,
but only for a moment. Elena couldn’t imagine what she would have
done, how she would have felt, if Kaitlyn hadn’t survived. Her
daughter was only a few hours old, and yet Elena already loved her
beyond words, had loved her even before she was born.
Andrei and Katiya didn’t stay long.
Murmuring that Elena was probably tired, Katiya placed the baby in
her arms, then quickly turned away, but not before Elena saw the
tears in her eyes.
Andrei paused at the door. “Have you
decided when to have the ceremony?” he asked.
“We will let you know,” Drake said.
“Thank you for coming.”
When their visitors had gone, Elena
glanced at Drake. “What ceremony?”
“It is customary to hold a naming
ceremony a week after a child is born.”
“I see.” She smiled as she stroked the
baby’s tiny hand. “Are we supposed to send
invitations?”
“No.” He sat on the edge of the bed.
“We will tell the Council when we decide on a date, and they will
spread the word to the others in the Fortress.”
“Everyone is invited?”
Drake nodded. “There is nothing for you
to do,” he said, lightly stroking his daughter’s downy cheek. “It
is a simple ceremony, merely a way of introducing our daughter to
the residents of the Fortress.”
“How many are there?”
“It varies. There are usually forty or
fifty here at any given time.” He paused, his expression
melancholy. “I would have liked Stefan to be here.”
“Isn’t there any way for you to get in
touch with him?”
“No.”
“He’s your favorite brother, isn’t
he?”
Drake nodded. As the oldest, he had
always felt duty-bound to look after his little brother. Because
Stefan was the youngest, there had been little competition between
them.
“Hmm. It seems odd that you can read
mortal minds, but not those of your own kind.”
“You think so? Would you like to be
able to read the minds of your family members? Or have them read
yours?”
Elena thought about it a minute, then
shook her head. “No, I guess not. But I’d like to be able to read
your thoughts.”
He grinned at her. “If there is
anything you wish to know, wife of my heart, you have only to
ask.”
“How long are we going to stay
here?”
“Until after the naming
ceremony.”
“I hope Katiya will be all right. She
looks so unhappy.”
“Her sadness will lessen, in time. They
will try again next year.”
Elena sighed, wishing that everyone
could be as happy as she was. “I miss Stefan,” she murmured. He
wasn’t only Drake’s favorite, but hers, as well.
Drake nodded. “Sooner or later, he will
come home.” It might take years. It might take centuries, but
sooner or later, Stefan would have to come home. It was in his
blood.
Elena glanced at her daughter, sleeping
peacefully in her arms. “Do you think we’ll be able to get pregnant
again?”
“I do not know,” he said, waggling his
brows at her, “but I am willing to try as often as you
wish.”