Christine Feehan - Dark Celebration 17

He turned away from her, fists clenched. As he turned, she caught the flash of fangs and he suddenly opened his hands-his fingers curling into lethal claws. Gabriel threw back his head and roared with rage. The sound shook the house and in the next room, Tamara began to cry. He whirled back to face Francesca. «She is not going to be forced by this-this werewolf into anything.»

Francesca gasped at the insult. «You're acting like a crazy man, Gabriel. Is this how it will be with all of our daughters?»

«No daughter of mine is going to be forced into anything.» He turned back to her, black eyes blazing with anger.

«Like I was?» Francesca pinned him with her gaze.

«That is entirely different.»

«Why? Because it was you? Gabriel, you have to be reasonable about this. We have to handle this right for both of them. Skyler isn't going to be able to accept him, especially if you act like a crazy father sharpening your fangs.»

«Gabriel? Francesca? Is everything all right?» Skyler stepped into the room carrying the baby. «Tamara is distressed. She's never heard her father upset like this before-and neither have I.» She looked about to cry. «Are you fighting over me? You never fight. Never. I'll do whatever you want me to do.»

Francesca went to her immediately and wrapped her arm around the girl's shoulders, baby and all. «Of course we argue, Skyler. Just not out loud. I'm sorry we upset you. Adults often have differences of opinions.»

«We wouldn't if you'd agree with everything I say,» Gabriel groused.

Francesca rolled her eyes at Skyler and flashed a small half smile. «Ignore him. I'm always right and we both know it. And right now, we have things to do that are fun. Fun, Gabriel.» She flashed him a small warning look. «Skyler, come help me make these gingerbread houses for tonight's dinner. Gabriel is going to help us.»

Gabriel took a deep, calming breath, forcing the air to move through his lungs, to remove the swirling rage that seemed to boil in his veins and churn in his gut. He breathed it away and tried to find his center. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Skyler further or get the baby crying.

«That's blackmail,» he grumbled, but winked at Skyler. He held out his arms for the baby, took her and bent to kiss the top of Skyler's head. «We were not fighting over you, little human chickie, only over what is best for you. And it was not a fight, simply a heated discussion. We are both in agreement. No man is ever going to be good enough for you and you need to stay with us forever.»

Skyler's look of alarm faded and she burst into laughter. «Forever?! think by the time I'm eight hundred you would want to throw me out.»

«Never, baby,» Francesca assured her, brushing back strands of hair from Skyler's face. She touched one of the crescent shaped scars that had failed, even with Carpathian blood, to heal. And Skyler's worst scars were where no one would ever see. «You will always be our beloved daughter.»

«You want to lick the frosting bowl instead of giving it to me, don't you?» Skyler teased.

«Too much sugar for you,» Francesca said, laughing. «Come on, we don't have a lot of time to put this together. I hope the instructions are easy. I've never actually constructed a gingerbread house before and Raven wanted several to use as the centerpieces for the tables.»

«The pressure is on,» Gabriel taunted. He kissed Tamara and winked. «Let's see how the female members of the household do.»

«Like you're going to get out of helping us,» Skyler said, grabbing his hand and tugging. «I'm going to paint your face with frosting while I'm at it. Tamara will love that, won't you,

baby girl?»

The anger was gone, but apprehension at the future had taken its place. Gabriel pretended reluctance as his lifemate and daughters dragged him into the kitchen, laughter bubbling around them and driving away a little bit of the fear of losing them.

Skyler entered the kitchen, inhaling the aroma of gingerbread. The pieces were already shaped into the walls and roof of the houses. They just had to put them together.

There was no warning at all. As she pulled the various colored frostings from the refrigerator, devastating sorrow nearly drove her to her knees. She kept the door open to prevent Francesca and Gabriel from seeing the tears welling in her eyes. Grief was sharp and painful-a blade cutting into her heart. Her throat swelled as the sorrow seemed to expand and take over every cell in her body until she wanted to weep uncontrollably. Rage crept in, dark and terrible, a savage need for vengeance, a need to strike back-to kill. The feeling was so strong, her hands shook and she dropped one of the bowls, shattering it.

«Skyler?» Francesca was there in a moment, wrapping her arm around Skyler's waist and pulling her away from the glass.

The frosting was white, but the bowl had been red and with the shards embedded in the icing, it looked to Skyler like bloodstained snow. She felt the urge to run to the window and check that no one was hurt outside. Her breath caught in her throat and she pressed a hand to her aching heart. Not just anyone-Dimitri. She had connected to him-she was certain of it-and he was suffering.

«Francesca? I have to find him. I have to find Dimitri.» Her voice was barely a whisper. She had no idea tears streamed down her face until Francesca touched her cheeks. «He's– it's so terrible. I can't explain it. I have to go to him. You have to go to him and ease his suffering.»

«I'm sorry, baby, I can only ease your suffering. He has to find a way to live with the emotions he is now feeling. He had knowledge before, but could not feel emotion.» She leaned close to Skyler to murmur softly, to ease her burden, «I can provide distance for you and it will help.»

Skyler abruptly pulled away. «No.» She shook her head. «You and Gabriel always shield me. Not this time. If I did this to him, I want to be able to feel it as well. I need to know these things, Francesca. I am already Carpathian in my heart. I need knowledge as well as emotion.»

Chapter 5

Mikhail streamed through the forest-a white vapor trail concealed by the snow– staying high up in the trees as he tracked the wolf loping across the ground beneath him. Mikhail could see that, in spite of taking the form of the wolf, Dimitri was in trouble. The

wolf paused every now in then, shuddering in pain, the shaggy fur, usually so shiny with health and strength, dull and wet with sweat. In spite of the animal form, waves of grief poured off the man, and to Mikhail's horror, small beads of blood were left behind in the paw prints in the stark white snow.

Mikhail dropped down through the canopy to fall more gently with the drift of the snowflakes as he approached the Carpathian male cautiously. Dimitri had gone through hell in the forests of Russia with his beloved wolves. Hunted by vampire and mortals alike, pursued by poachers and superstitious people, he had faced endless centuries of protecting both humans and wolves alone without the comfort of his homeland-the soil-or its people.

The wolf stopped running and stood with sides heaving, head hanging and blood-red tears dripping into the snow. He suddenly threw his head back and howled his unrelenting sorrow to the heavens and whatever deities might hear him. As the mournful notes faded into the night, he resumed his own shape, the wolf falling away to reveal the man. Dimitri covered his face as he sank down onto a boulder.

«You are feeling her pain,» Mikhail said softly. «It is both a miracle and a curse for you.»

Dimitri sprang up, whirling to face the prince, his fangs exposed in a snarl, his eyes glowing with red flickers of flame. He stood in a fighters stance, hands up, the air around them charged with electricity-with danger. «I had no idea I was not alone,» Dimitri said. «I would not have displayed such emotion.»