Dead After Dark (Companion #6.5)(55)

Luke wriggled in her lap and gave up the fight. “At breakfast!”

The two of them laughed and she hugged her shy, gentle son close as Michael and Gabriella came racing up the lawn.

Claire looked at her husband and felt a wave of respect and love come over her. He was so amazing, so steady and strong in his quiet way, taking care of her and the children with tender kindness. He was also a ferocious lover and vicious protector—as a vandal had learned a couple of months ago.

She loved him even more than she had this morning, though less than she would tomorrow.

“Hi,” she said to him, as Gabriella took Luke’s hand and led him off to show him the fresh buds on the tea roses next to the gazebo.

“My love,” Michael murmured, sitting down on the grass next to her and pulling her into his arms. “You are beautiful in this light.”

“Thank you.”

She had to smile, thinking that the beautiful stuff was because of him. As was the fact that she looked younger than she had when she’d met him and not just because she’d stopped working around the clock. The two of them had discovered through some kinky moments that he liked to be used for drinking and that his blood had a curious effect on her. It seemed to have halted her aging process—or at the very least slowed it down to such a degree that she hadn’t aged at all in the last nine years. Had even regressed a little.

There were a lot of unanswered questions. Michael still had no idea who his father was or whether there were any other vampires on the planet. They were both worried about their children’s futures and the isolation at the estate and the fact that kids needed friends their own age. And health care was an issue because how could they take the children to a human doctor?

Generally, though, things were better than imaginable. Claire managed the huge Leeds fortune. Michael homeschooled the children. Luke and Gabriella were thriving and healthy.

It was a good life. An odd life, but a good life.

And there was some news to share.

“You’re a very good father, you know that?” Claire said, brushing back her man’s hip-length hair.

Michael kissed her neck. “You’re a very good mother. And a perfect wife. And a brilliant businesswoman. I don’t know how you do it all.”

“Time management is a wonderful thing.” Claire put her husband’s hand on her belly. “And I’m going to need to do a little more managing.”

Michael froze. “Claire?”

She laughed. “You were very busy with me last month and it seems as if . . .”

He hugged her tight and trembled a little. She knew there were moments when the abuse and imprisonment came back to him, and unfortunately it was typically when he got good news. All these years later, he still struggled with anything he viewed as lucky or miraculous. It made him feel, he said, as if he were in danger of waking up and having this new life of his be just a dream.

“Are you okay? Do you feel all right?” he asked, pulling back, eyes going over her.

“Fine. As always, I’m fine.” The home births were not a walk in the park, but through Mick, who seemed to know someone who knew someone about all things, they’d found a midwife they could trust.

Michael rubbed her tummy. “You make me so happy. So proud.”

“Right back at you.”

He kissed her as he always did, lingering before he pulled away. Funny, after all their time together, he still hated to part their mouths.

“If it’s a boy, I’d like to call him Matthew or Mark,” she said.

“And a girl?”

“Michael can be a girl’s name as well.” Claire grinned. “And have I mentioned how much I like that name? Michael is a great name.”

Her husband dipped his head. With their lips touching, he said softly, “It might have come up once before. Yes, if I do recall correctly, that is your favorite name.”

“My very favorite.”

Claire smiled as she was thoroughly kissed by the vampire she loved. While she wrapped her arms around her husband, she thought, yes, they definitely needed another Michael in the family.





BEYOND THE

NIGHT


by

Susan Squires





1


Drew Carlowe fingered the heavy iron ring of keys in his breast pocket as he pushed into the Goose and Gander. Grim satisfaction suffused him. He was about to get his life back, along with a heaping portion of the cold revenge that had filled his dreams for so long.

It had been nearly fifteen years since he’d set foot in the little tavern. He was making a huge wager that no one would recognize The Maples’ young groom Andy. He had a mature man’s bulk of muscle from hard labor now, and his face had grown more angular, more lined with care. A scar ran across his cheek from a cutlass. It stood out whitely against the tan provided by the years at sea. His eyes looked much bluer, his hair much blonder with his new coloring. Young, guileless Andy Cooper, lover of horses and Sir Melaphont’s daughter, was long gone.

The September evening was unseasonably hot and the tavern had all its doors and windows open, beaming light and raucous laughter into the darkness. It still smelled of yeasty ale and yesterday’s cabbage and mutton special, as it always had. It was crowded with the working classes and a couple of gentleman farmers. The noise subsided at the entrance of a stranger.