Читать книгу Blood Ties Book Four: All Souls' Night - Jennifer Armintrout, Jennifer Armintrout - Страница 9

“Scusilo, dove è il deposito di pattino?”

“That sounds terrible. Your accent is all wrong.”

Max turned from the mirror and pulled his headphones from his ear, hitting the pause button on his iPod. “You know, your ‘helpful’ criticism really isn’t helping. We’ve been here three weeks and I still can’t talk to anyone. It doesn’t hurt to try and learn something new.”

With a sympathetic look, Bella held out her arms, and Max crossed the bedroom to join her on their bed. The French doors to the balcony stood open and afternoon sunshine poured in. He stepped around a band of it on the floor, forgetting, as usual, that he no longer needed to fear it. Taking a deep breath, he walked through the warm rays and slid onto the crisp white bedspread.

“Why do you always do that?” Bella asked, her voice still rough from sleep. She slept all the time lately, but Max couldn’t fault her for it. It was common, apparently, for pregnant women to be exhausted, and he guessed that doubled for pregnant women who were recuperating from nearly mortal injuries, as well.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, turning his gaze back to the sunlit windows. “I just always have my fingers crossed.”

His full change from vampire to half-vampire, half-werewolf hybrid creature—the word lupin was as hated as he’d expected it would be in a werewolf pack, so he never used it—had been more gradual than he would have liked. The worst part was, they’d had no idea what traits would stick until after he’d actually shifted into his wolf form. After that, a whole world of weirdness opened up to him, and between hairier legs and a sadistic urge to pull riders off their bicycles and devour them, the vampiric aversion to sunlight had somehow vanished.

It had been a fortunately happy accident that they’d discovered it at all. From the moment they’d arrived to, in Max’s opinion, a hostile welcome in Italy, members of Bella’s family had made it very clear that no concessions to his vampirism would be made. And, since the family—the entire family—lived in the same, window-covered villa on a sunny, sun-drenched cliff, he’d found himself confined to Bella’s bedroom every day. Only when one of Bella’s “well-meaning” aunts had come into the room while they slept and opened the curtains, flooding the room with frying light, had he realized that he no longer had to worry about such “well-meaning” people burning him to death with UV rays.

He’d also realized that it would take a lot more than Bella’s love for him to convince her family he was an okay guy. Hence the studying Italian, so that he could fit in and also, admittedly, so he could tell what they were saying about him.

More importantly, he’d realized that he really didn’t give a damn about what they might try to do to him. He was actually, really, truly in love with the woman who was carrying his child, and, despite having to drink blood and change into a wolf at the full moon, he felt more normal than he had in years.

He dipped his face to sniff Bella’s neck and planted a kiss on her sleep-warmed skin. Rather than simply patting his thigh and rolling away from him, as she had been doing for the past few weeks, she stretched her neck and writhed her body against his. Jackpot.

He loved her. God, did he love her. And he understood that pregnancy could be rough on a woman, even one as strong as Bella. But it had been a long, long time, and he was only…not human.

“So, is this official, or are we just getting my hopes up to dash them again?” He smiled against her neck and gave her jaw a playful nip, so she would know he was half joking. And he ground his hard-on into her hip, so she would know he was half-serious, too.

Bella laughed, a sound that was so oddly delicate coming from a creature that was all dark and smoky. “If I told you now, that would spoil the fun.”

“You’re a devious bitch, aren’t you?” He slid one hand down the length of her body, bunching the white satin of her nightgown higher by fractions, revealing the tight, olive-tinged skin over her thighs. He danced his fingers from her hip to her knee, watching her face for any flicker of change. “Can you feel that?”

She moaned a little and gave a nod, and relief clutched in his chest. The car accident that had paralyzed her while they’d been in pursuit of the Oracle had at first left her with no feeling below the waist. The doctors who’d examined her in Italy had warned him that the loss of sensation might be permanent, and Max, stupid, stupid man that he acknowledged he was, had only been worried about whether or not she would be able to have sex again. He knew he wouldn’t want to live a life condemned to never getting off again, that was for damned sure.

Luckily, they’d already discovered that wouldn’t be a problem for her.

Moving her legs gently apart, he pushed the nightgown to her waist. Her fingers worked fast, undoing the button and then the zipper of his jeans, letting him spring eagerly into her soft, warm hands. He almost came right then, just from being touched after so long. “I have to be inside you,” he groaned, and she whimpered her agreement into his ear as he leaned over her. The tip of his cock was poised, trembling, at the glistening pink core of her and he pushed in, taking it slow, just a centimeter at a time it seemed. So painstakingly slow that he ground his teeth to keep from ramming hard into her. It took more willpower than he’d known he had to ignore her pleas to go faster. There was no way he was going to mess this up, not after the wait he’d had. Just a few moments more and he’d be home, encased in her sweet, clutching body. All he needed was infinite patience…

A voice and violent banging on the door brought everything to a crashing halt.

Infinite patience, and for all of his in-laws to die in a horrible explosion that rained body parts all over the picturesque Italian countryside.

“Oh, no,” Bella said softly, though her voice held more disappointment at the interruption than dismay over the words muffled by the door. “My father needs to see you.”

“Now?” He thought they called Italian a romance language. Words to summon him away from imminent sexual pleasure shouldn’t even exist in it.

Bella gave him a sympathetic nod and he reluctantly withdrew, reminding himself firmly that grown men do not cry. “Fine. Tell this guy I’m on my way.”

If there was one thing he’d learned about pack life, it was that when the paterfamilis called, you answered, or else…well, there was no “else.” You just did it.

Bella yelled something to the door, and the banging stopped. “You should hurry. He is not in a pleasant mood lately.”

“I wonder why,” Max muttered, pulling her nightgown down so that she was decently covered again. He let his hand linger a moment on her stomach, which had been flat before and now bowed just slightly out in a hard little bump. It was hard to imagine a whole person fitting in there, even one that looked like the tiny shrimp he’d seen on the ultrasound picture.

He stood and zipped his jeans, hoping his erection would calm down, fast. Nothing got on a man’s bad side faster than obvious, physical evidence that you’d just been fucking his daughter. “Do you need anything before I go?”

Bella smoothed her nightgown, repeating Max’s action of petting her stomach. “Send for my cousin. Maybe I will take a walk.”

Max arched an eyebrow at her.

“I will take a wheel, then,” she said with a laugh, and threw a pillow at him as he retreated through the door.

The man waiting outside, a skinny, swarthy guy in a faded Van Halen T-shirt, was a runner, a lower-ranking member of the pack who carried messages for the family. Usually, Max had learned, runners weren’t related to the pack or they were family members in disgrace, and he wondered how long it would be before he ended up an errand boy. “Go get one of Bella’s cousins. She wants some company.”

The man said something that Max guessed sounded affirmative and went off on his way, leaving Max to his awkward visit.

It wasn’t that Max didn’t like Bella’s father. After all, he’d granted Max safe haven and let him stay with Bella. That alone was deserving of eternal gratitude. But the man knew it, and he was definitely going to cash in the eternal gratitude coupon as much as possible. He had also made it clear that Max was staying on a trial basis, and could be kicked out on his half-werewolf ass at any time.

The house—the “den,” as the pack called it—was the kind of place that made Max wish he’d managed his money better, so he could have one all to himself. Not that his digs back in Chicago had been shabby, but this place made the penthouse look like a condemned building full of sick cats. It was built on a cliff overlooking Lake Lugano. From the drive, it appeared to be a long, low, Roman-style villa. For all Max knew, it dated back to actual Roman times. Inside, though, it was way, way bigger, just the tip of an iceberg that carved into the cliff face. Most of the time, you couldn’t tell you were underground, owing to the windows facing out at the lake, but the lowest floor was windowless, the walls unfinished rock. Bella’s father kept his meeting rooms in that section of the house, and there weren’t any elevators, so Max had to trudge down eight flights of stairs, quickly, to get where he was going. The pack leader’s meeting room was kind of a throne room, with guarded doors and all that medieval jazz. He gave his name and waited to be allowed inside.

The smooth marble columns flanking the doorway were the last bit of added ornamentation. The meeting room was a cave. Max couldn’t tell if it was a natural one or if it had been blasted out to accommodate the pack leader. The furniture was comfortable and modern and very European, but moisture trickled down the walls and the whole place definitely smelled like it was underground.

“Ah, Maximilian.” The pack master stood in the middle of the room in his sleek tailored suit, trying hard to look pleased to see his daughter’s vampire boyfriend.

Lupin, Max reminded himself, then struck the word from his mental vocabulary again as Bella had taught him. Vampire-werewolf hybrid.

“Pack Master,” he replied. “You wanted to see me?”

A polite smile creased the man’s face as he crossed the room. He looked oddly similar and at the same time very different than Bella. She’d inherited her father’s exotic, tipped-up eyes, though hers were golden and his gleamed black. His hair was as midnight dark as hers, but it was white at the temples and wavy. Bella’s was as straight as a line. They had the same gestures, which must have been genetic, and the same lithe grace that Max had wrongly assumed all werewolves possessed.

“I did want to see you,” the man said, coming closer. “And call me Julian. We are family now, are we not?”

“We are,” Max agreed. He would agree with anything Julian said, because to disagree might mean banishment, and banishment would mean being apart from Bella, forever. That was something he wasn’t willing to risk.

As if reminded by his own words of their connection, Julian delicately sniffed the air. His expression hardened for a moment, then the mask of expedience glazed his face in false friendship again. “And how is my daughter?”

It was a sick little pleasure, to know the man smelled her on him, to have that sort of olfactory flag to wave and silently shout, “She’s mine now.” But Max kept his features neutral. “Happy. Happier than I think she’s been in a long time.”

Julian nodded. “I will go directly to my point, then.” He hadn’t even asked Max to sit down. “You must return to the United States. Tomorrow.”

Max almost choked on the torrent of curses that rose in his throat. All he managed to say was, “Why?”

With a sympathetic smile, Julian shook his head. “Not forever. Do not despair. But the child my daughter carries is a weapon, as you have said. And the man who desires this weapon is still very likely to come into his power and claim the child.”

Shit. Of course, the Soul Eater was still out there. And he was still an evil bastard. And he would still want to get his hands on the baby. “I’ve got friends back in the States who are taking care of that whole mess.”

“Maximilian, may I be frank with you?” Julian asked, as if he hadn’t been so already.

Max steeled himself for whatever the man would say next. It probably wouldn’t be something he wanted to hear.

“You are not one of us. My daughter has feelings for you, and whatever is between the two of you is enough to earn you my mercy. But my concern for Bella’s safety, eh, trumps, I believe is the word, any concern for her happiness.” He steepled his fingers at his mouth and appeared to consider his next words. “I will not remind you of my responsibility to the pack, and the consequences that would befall them if this Soul Eater were to come after the baby.”

But you just did, Max thought irritably. “I understand your concern. But Jacob can’t use the baby until he’s become a god. He wants her for her destiny, and I’m guessing that destiny won’t come into play until at least preschool, right? In the meantime, I don’t understand how my leaving Bella when she needs me most will ultimately benefit her. I mean, there is no one in this pack who will fight harder to keep her safe.”

Julian’s face turned to stone. “I do not think that is correct.”

He hadn’t come to argue. But he was sure as hell not leaving Bella behind. “No. If I go, she leaves with me.”

“Maximilian, this is not permanent.” Julian laughed, as if it had been clear from the very beginning and Max had just been too stupid to figure it out. “If you say this vampire will have no interest in my grandchild until after he’s become a god, then I believe you. But I wish for you to see that even this small victory for him is prevented. If he is defeated, and if you survive, then you will be welcome to return to my daughter.”

So that was it. He was being shipped off in the hopes that he wouldn’t return. “I’m not a vampire anymore. I’m a werewolf. Vampire hybrid,” he added quickly, before Julian could shoot him down as an outsider. “How do you know anyone is still going to want to include me in their plans?”

Julian spread his hands and smiled, as if he knew he had his prey cornered. Not cornered. Served on a platter. “I trust that you will be able to find a place in this fight. Besides, did you not just assert that you would do anything to keep my daughter safe?”

Max didn’t have an answer to that.

“Your plane will leave in the morning. Try and break the news gently to my daughter.” And then Julian left. Left Max standing there in the cavernous room, left him holding the bag. How was he going to tell Bella that her father was sending him away to die?

On the other hand, Max thought as he stalked angrily back to Bella’s room, there’s no way Nathan and Carrie won’t be involved in this thing. And if Julian is making noise about it right now, something is going on.

He couldn’t stand by and let his friends finish what he’d helped to start. But he couldn’t leave Bella.

Of course, he knew what she would say if he told her. Go, help them, go where you are needed. Go and be the warrior you are supposed to be. It was a big argument for just not telling her. The argument against not telling her was that he respected her, damn it. It didn’t make sense, considering that a few short months ago he would have liked nothing more than to jam a screwdriver into her ear, but now she was the mother of his child. Also, the love of his life. Hell, even memories of his sire had begun to fade gently into the background since Max had realized how much he loved Bella. He had to tell her why he would be leaving, because he couldn’t lie to her.

He came to their room just as two of Bella’s aunts were on their way out. They gave him shifty looks as he entered and one muttered under her breath, probably complaining that he hadn’t knocked on the door, but they looked relieved at the same time. It was starting to appear that his outplacement was a group decision.

Bella was on the balcony, still clothed in her white nightgown, but wrapped in an equally pristine terry cloth robe. Her long, black hair was unbound, spilling down the sides of her face and over her shoulders in dark slashes.

“The wind off the lake is cold,” he said, and she didn’t startle at his sudden reappearance.

“I like to be in the sun. And the cold does not bother me.” She wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach and smiled up at him. “And she is warm enough in here.”

She’ll be in piss-poor shape if her mother dies of pneumonia, Max thought, but he didn’t say it. He didn’t want to spend some of what could be their last day together arguing. “Listen, I have to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” Bella gestured gracefully to the other lounge chair, closer to the railing.

Max pulled the chair up close to Bella’s, though he wasn’t sure he’d ever be close enough to her. The thought of spending mornings away from her, of not waking to her beautiful smile, her warm, clean scent…He pushed those grim thoughts aside. “You know, he’s still out there.”

He saw her chest hitch in a sharply drawn breath, but she caught it before it could make a sound and pretended—badly—not to comprehend. “Who?”

Better to do it like ripping off a Band-Aid. “The Soul Eater. He’s still out there, and he’s still going to go through with the ritual that will make him a god.”

“What does this have to do with us?” Bella’s voice held a note of steel, as if she could will Max’s past to vanish. “You are no longer one of them. It is not your concern.”

He smiled and pushed some of her hair off her face. The very first time he’d seen her, she’d been wearing her hair back. She’d always worn it that way, scraped back from her face so severely that her skin had looked tight. It had made her seem hard, and she was, to people who didn’t know her. But now Max knew her, and he saw the currents below her deceptively smooth surface. She was frightened for him, and for their child, and she looked as vulnerable and young as he knew she was.

“You’re right. I’m not one of them. But I’m half of them,” he reminded her, and he dropped his hand to place it over the bump of her abdomen. “And she’s half, too. I don’t want to take the chance of his goons waltzing in here and grabbing you. I’m going back to the States to get this all sorted out.”

She whipped her head up sharply to glare at him. “You will leave me here?”

“I’m not going to drag you into a war zone. I’m sorry.” He looked away, to the vast expanse of black water on the lake. “If I don’t go, and he becomes a god, I’ll be here, trying to protect you from a god. If I go, and we can beat him, yeah, I’ll be away from you, but you’ll be safe.”

“My father put you up to this.” She said it flatly, providing no room for him to argue.

And it was damned tempting to say, “Yeah, your father is a real prick and he’s sending me to fight the Soul Eater knowing that the odds are pretty good I won’t be coming back.” But what good would that do? He’d still get sent away, still might die, and then Bella would be estranged from the one person who had the power to protect her. Not that her anger toward her father would stop him from watching over her—in fact, it might make her a virtual prisoner for the rest of her life, and that was something else Max just couldn’t accept.

“He didn’t put me up to it. We talked out this solution together.” It ground his guts to have to make the man look decent through a lie, but Max forged on. “Besides, you know that Nathan and Carrie will still be involved. They’ll need me.”

“If they are still alive,” Bella snapped, then her expression softened. “I am sorry. I do not mean to speak evil thoughts out loud. But you do not know where they are or how they fared in their mission. And you cannot do this thing alone.”

They sat in silence, both staring out at the lake, the occasional foam cap peaking on the dark surface. The wind had picked up. Bella’s hair whirled in it and slapped against her face.

“Let’s get you inside,” Max said quietly, and before she could argue he lifted her into his arms.

“You are right. You have to go,” she said as he settled her onto the bed. “It would be against everything you believe to leave your friends in peril. And it would be against everything I believe to be with a man who would do that to the people he cared for.”

He lay down beside her and took her hands in his, frowning down at his, the way his missing fingers and gnarled scars seemed grotesque against her perfect skin. “I’m glad you have so much faith in me. Because I’d much rather stay with you.”

She lifted his hands to her mouth and pressed a kiss to each of his palms. “No. You would go where your friends needed you.”

He wanted to argue, but she opened her mouth and sucked one of his fingertips inside, swirling her tongue around it. She laughed at his groan and released him, her hands wandering down, over his chest, to lift his T-shirt.

“Finishing what you started earlier?” Max asked, trying to keep the hopefulness out of his voice. “Because otherwise, this is just cruel.”

Her golden eyes glittered as she slipped her fingers inside the waist of his jeans. “I cannot let you leave without a proper goodbye.”

He couldn’t say he didn’t agree.