Why had the gods chosen now—this time—to bring Nachari his
destiny
?
Kagen wondered. He shifted uncomfortably against the soft velvet chaise and met the eyes of his brothers for the first time, each one in turn, as they sat across from him in large, leather armless chairs.
Marquis practically glowered with anger. He cleared his throat. Twice. “Did anyone make an official record of the time?”
Nathaniel stirred. “Seven o’clock PM.”
Nachari’s Blood Moon had occurred at precisely seven o’clock PM on Monday, January 25th, which meant the male had until precisely seven o’clock PM on Wednesday, February 24th to make the required sacrifice, or—
Or what?
Marquis seemed to read Kagen’s thoughts. “And if he and Deanna have not…come together…by then, we are to wheel him in on a stretcher to the chamber of sacrifice so the Blood can exact its pound of flesh?”
Nathaniel whistled low beneath his breath but didn’t respond.
“That’s insane,” Marquis added.
“Agreed,” Kagen said. “But I don’t think—”
“Perhaps it is time for a war between heaven and hell,” Marquis grunted, cutting Kagen off in mid-sentence. “Because all hell will break loose before I turn Nachari over for failing to appease the Blood…when he isn’t even conscious!”
The earth began to shake beneath them, causing the furniture to slide gently to the left before settling back in place on the wooden floors.
“Brother,” Nathaniel cautioned, staring into Marquis’s phantom-blue eyes. “Please…check your emotions. It will not help Nachari to have the clinic fall down around him.”
Marquis’s large chest rose and fell with the weight of his breath—and his burden—but he managed to calm down.
Kagen spoke up then. “I spoke to Napolean briefly. Our king will visit the clinic first thing in the morning to discuss the situation with us, perhaps to add some deeper insight.” He paused. “In the meantime, there are vital matters we must discuss.”
“Indeed,” Marquis grumbled.
“What are you thinking?” Nathaniel asked, resting further back in his chair and raising his eyebrows curiously.
Kagen sought to rein in his own emotion before continuing. “I think we need to approach this…challenge…in stages. Take it one issue at a time.” He nodded appreciatively at Nathaniel. “Thank you for being mindful enough to make note of the time; with all that was going on, it never occurred to me to begin making a record of events.” The internal calculations made by a male vampire the moment he encountered his Blood Moon were as instinctive as sleeping and breathing. The instant the Omen began, the male automatically recorded the date, the time, and the…deadline: When, exactly, would the thirty days be up? Exactly how much time did he have left to fulfill the edicts of the Curse? It wasn’t something one thought about. It was simply imprinted on a cellular level; but Nachari hadn’t been there to internalize the information. Nathaniel’s reaction had been wise and proactive.
“Of course.” Nathaniel nodded. “Perhaps it is because I have gone through it myself.”
“What now?” Marquis demanded, quickly changing the subject.
Kagen angled his body toward Marquis. “Well, first I talk to Napolean…and the other wizards. Find out if they can divine any information: Why Lord Perseus chose to bind Nachari to the human female at this time, knowing he is helpless to act upon the revelation. Perhaps it was an act of intercession.”
“How so?” Nathaniel asked.
Kagen shrugged. “I don’t know, but maybe she holds the key to getting through to our little brother—wherever he may be—perhaps having his
destiny
here will act as a magnet of sorts, drawing him back into his body. Certainly, there could be no greater motivation. Perhaps her presence was needed right here, right now, for reasons we don’t yet understand.”
“Perhaps,” Marquis agreed. “But in the meantime—assuming the worst-case scenario—what can we do for Nachari?”
Kagen nodded and clasped his hands together, rubbing his thumbs against each other in agitation. “We can do what we can to foster the relationship with the belief that Nachari will wake up in time, and we can even act on his behalf with regard to the Curse if necessary.”
“Explain,” Marquis said.
Kagen leaned forward. “The woman—Deanna—was drawn here on her own accord. There is already a very powerful connection between Nachari and his mate, if only by the grace of the gods; so I think we nurture that. We feed it.” He stood up and walked to the window, staring out at the spectacular view beneath him of the southern cliff face and the low-hanging clouds. “We let her look through photo albums; we answer all of her questions; we tell her stories about Nachari’s life—his childhood, his time at the University, his guardianship of Braden.” He turned to face his brothers. “We allow her to spend time alone in his room…with his things…with him.”
Nathaniel cocked his head to the side, slightly uncomfortable.
“I know,” Kagen said, “it makes me nervous as well, brother. But she won’t harm him. She is his
destiny
; she can’t.”
Marquis scowled. “Kristina
shot
me,” he reminded them pointedly.
Kagen chuckled then, more out of sympathy than humor. “This is true, but then she was not your true
destiny
, was she?”
Marquis shrugged his agreement. “So, we give Deanna every opportunity to know Nachari…as best she can. What if he doesn’t awaken in time to convert her? In time to…” His voice trailed off. Clearly, the words
impregnate her
seemed harsh and even crude under the circumstances.
Kagen walked slowly back to his chair and sat down on the edge, looking down at the floor. He slowly raised his eyes. “There’s not much we can do about the latter,” he conceded. “If Nachari is not back in time to…foster that relationship, then all may very well be lost.”
Silence echoed throughout the room as the words drifted amongst each of the males, none of them willing to comment on their gravity.
“And the other?” Nathaniel asked. “The conversion?”
Kagen nodded slowly. “I’ve been giving that a lot of thought, and actually, I think it can be done medically.”
“Medically?” Marquis furrowed his brow.
Kagen turned toward the Ancient Master Warrior and held his gaze. “Yes, medically.” He shifted restlessly in his chair. “The conversion is done with venom, right? And the venom is pumped through the veins beneath our incisors. I believe a catheter could be inserted into Nachari’s veins, another into Deanna’s carotid artery, and our brother’s venom could be pumped steadily through her body until the conversion is complete. She
is
his rightful
destiny
. I see no reason why his venom would not convert her successfully.”
Nathaniel frowned. “And the pain? The fear? The need to restrain her?” He stared pointedly at Kagen, his face a mask of uncertainty. “Conversion is a horribly traumatic event…even when you hold your
destiny
in your arms. We cannot put our women under because, in essence, they are dying and being reborn—it’s too dangerous. And the concentration it requires to pump the venom restricts even the smallest telepathic communication at first. How then does Deanna endure such a thing? She will surely fight for all she is worth…and bolt.”
Kagen felt the full weight of Nathaniel’s words. Unlike Nathaniel and Marquis, he had not met his
destiny
yet; consequently, he had never had to endure the profound suffering of a woman he loved more than anything in the world before. But he had heard enough war stories to understand the breadth of the event. And he was a Healer. He understood, probably more than they did, what exactly had to happen physiologically for every cell in the human body to die and be reborn through the infusion of vampire venom. “I know,” he finally said, speaking quietly. “It is not a good scenario by any stretch, but I’m just saying, if we have to do it, I think we can.” He looked back and forth between Nathaniel and Marquis. “And yes, she would have to be restrained.”
Nathaniel nearly blanched. “With straps? To a table?” He grimaced, appalled. “She would hate him…
and us
…and the whole free world,” he added. “And rightfully so!”
“Agreed,” Kagen said. “I think one of us would need to…be there with her. Go through it with her.”
Marquis shrugged his shoulders then. “Human women have coaches other than their husbands in childbirth,” he supplied. “Perhaps one of the women—Ciopori or Jocelyn, or maybe both—could attend to her as well.”
It painted a gruesome picture, and no one spoke for a moment.
Finally, Kagen waved his hand in dismissal. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”
Marquis frowned. Being analytical as he always was, he stated, “It may come sooner than you think.”
Both Kagen and Nathaniel stared at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation.
He glanced absently at his nails before continuing: “I agree. It is unpleasant. I would not choose it for our new sister, but”—he planted both hands palms-down on his knees and leaned forward—“Nachari’s life takes precedence for me. I am sorry, but that is simply the truth. If the presence of the woman as his
destiny
does not draw him out of his slumber, then perhaps a conversion will. If they share the same DNA, the same breath of life as it were, she may be able to reach him, perhaps literally affect his physical health, following conversion. If it comes down to it, I will make the call…pleasant or not.”
Kagen didn’t respond right away. Rather, he thought about the night Marquis had converted Kristina in a rage: The fiery redhead had been revealed as Marquis’s
destiny
through a trick of black magic, a deception created by Salvatore Nistor with the blessing of the Dark Lord Ocard to ultimately bring about Marquis’s demise. Unbeknownst to the Master Warrior, Marquis had believed Kristina to be his true mate; and in an angry act of domination—granted, she had blasted him with a shotgun, twice—Marquis had thrown Kristina over his lap, sunk his fangs into her neck, and converted her right then and there on his front porch, in plain view. It had been a hideous and painful time for everyone; but the point was—Kagen had no doubt that Marquis would make the call if he felt he needed to. And as the eldest Silivasi brother, the de facto head of their family following the death of their father, Keitaro, it was ultimately Marquis’s call to make.
“We will obey you in all things, of course,” Kagen responded, not wanting to argue at this point. “I am simply saying that I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“As do I,” Nathaniel agreed.
Marquis appeared genuinely contemplative as he regarded both brothers. “Of course,” he said evenly. “I hope Nachari returns to us before it comes to that as well.” He hung his head then, just barely, before raising his angular jaw once again in his typical, proud posture. “I am not the monster you would make of me, Kagen.”
Kagen’s heart constricted in his chest. “Marquis, I do not—”
He waved his hand. “It is of no consequence. I have long ago made peace with my station in this family…and my responsibilities.”
“That may be,” Kagen said sternly, “but if my brother thinks I see him as a monster, then that is not okay with me.” He squared his shoulders to Marquis. “I do not.”
Marquis shrugged. “Very well.”
“No,” Kagen argued. “Not
very well
.” He stood, crossed the room, and placed a hand on Marquis’s shoulder. “Do you not know how much you are respected…and loved…brother?”
Marquis squirmed uncomfortably and frowned. “I think you need a woman, brother.”
Kagen laughed softly. “That may be true, as well. But did you hear me?”
Marquis growled. “Whatever.”
Kagen backed away then, satisfied. “Yes…
whatever
,” he parroted.
Nathaniel leaned forward and winked at the aggravated Master Warrior. “I love you, too, big guy.”
Marquis shot to his feet. “Dear gods, I have pansies for brothers.”
They both laughed.
“And yet, here you are,” Nathaniel drawled, “ready to start a war between heaven and hell over a green-eyed wizard. I think thou dost protest too much.” He smiled congenially.
Marquis rolled his eyes. “Very well, have your fun.” He turned to Kagen. “Where is Deanna now? Is she still sleeping?”
“Yes,” Kagen answered, “and I think she’s going to be extremely exasperated, not to mention ticked off, when we awaken her…yet again.”
Marquis nodded. “It couldn’t be helped.” He sat back down. “I think it is time to explain to our new sister just who she is, the world she has now become a part of, and the damnable Curse that rules us all. I will ask Ciopori to go through Nachari’s things—try to find some important mementos, photo albums, and such. We should schedule visits with the women, perhaps even Napolean if that’s not too intimidating.”
“If?” Nathaniel said. “Jocelyn still goes out of her way to avoid him.”
Marquis shrugged. “Okay, well, maybe not Napolean. The women will be less frightening anyhow. Just the same, it is time to begin her education, to bring her into our world.” He stared at Kagen then. “I hope you are right, Healer, about her connection to our little brother. Because it is time for Deanna Dubois to get to know her vampire husband…as best she can. And pretty as he is, even sleeping, she had better love him.”
Nathaniel lowered his gaze, hiding a smirk.
“As you wish,” Kagen replied formally. He stood up, indicating that the meeting was over.
Marquis followed suit. He turned to march out of the room, stopped at the door, and growled. And then he turned back around. Without preamble, he strode across the floor, pulled Kagen into a harsh, one-armed embrace, and beat on his back two times with a fist before shoving him away. As Kagen stumbled backward, trying to catch his balance, the huge vampire took a step toward Nathaniel. He stopped, stared at the expectant warrior as if considering another embarrassing hug, took note of the sly, self-satisfied smirk on Nathaniel’s face, and then apparently thought better of it. Tapping Nathaniel none too lightly on the side of the head in what could only be described as an affectionate ear-cuff, he snorted, “You’re all right, too.”