Christine Feehan: Dark Celebration 17

Raven's heart jumped. «He said that?»

Skyler nodded. «He's been strange lately, not wanting Francesca or me to go anywhere without him. I can see she gets upset, but she doesn't say anything. She works at the hospital and some of the shelters and I often go with her, but he doesn't like her going anymore.»

Raven busied herself with the turkey, basting it again, even though there was no need. «When did Gabriel start becoming upset about the two of you going off alone?» She kept her voice casual, but out of the corner of her eye, caught the girl's sharp glance.

«Since the attack on the prince.»

There is nothing to fear out here, Raven. One of the male's taking a run in the forest decided to drop by, but saw we had company. I am going to see my brother. Do not allow Skyler back into the forest without an escort.

Should I be worried about something, Mikhail?

Raven felt the brief hesitation. I do not know. I am uneasy, but have no real reason to be.

Be careful, Mikhail. Be safe. Tell Shea I'll see her soon. What are you discussing with Jacques?

Raven felt his sudden amusement. The image of Gregori dressed up as Santa Claus surrounded by children.

Chapter 2

Mikhail leaned down to kiss Shea Dubrinsky on her cheek. «You look just a little bit pregnant there, lady.»

His sister-in-law blew strands of bright red hair from her face. «You think? If I don't have this baby soon, I swear I'm going to explode.»

«You're also looking harassed. Is something wrong?» He glanced around the room looking for his brother. Jacques rarely strayed from the side of his lifemate.

A slow smile lit Shea's face. «He's in the kitchen-baking.»

Mikhail's eyebrow shot up. «I do not believe I heard you correctly.»

«Yes, you did. My back has been hurting on and off tonight and I'm having trouble with this recipe. The worst thing is-Raven, Corrine and I came up with most of the recipes for everyone. They were childhood favorites of Raven's and a few I remembered. Corrine filled in the rest and now I can't manage it. It's a little humiliating to admit, but I seem to be emotional. I keep crying, so Jacques took over the baking.»

Mikhail choked and turned away to politely clear his throat. «Jacques is cooking?»

Her smile widened. «Well-trying to. We aren't having a lot of success at the moment and I think he's learning new words.» She tilted her head, the bright red hair falling around her face, emphasizing her classic bone structure. «Perhaps you'd like to give him a hand. Go on in, he'll be happy to see you.» She rolled her eyes. «His Majesty has given me strict instructions to lie down for a while.»

Mikhail gave her a fierce scowl. «Then do so immediately, Shea. You are not in labor, are you? I will call Francesca and Gregori to examine you.»

«I'm a doctor, Mikhail,» Shea reminded him, «I'd know if I was in labor. I'm close, maybe the start-but it isn't happening yet.» She waved as she started toward the concealed door leading to the basement. «I promise to call them if I need them. I'd never take a chance on anything happening to the baby. I'm just tired.»

Mikhail watched her disappear before making his way through the spacious house to the kitchen. He stopped abruptly in the doorway to stare at his brother in shock. A cloud of white particles choked the air and fell to the floor like snowflakes. The powder was everywhere, on the floor, on the dishes and bowls covering the counters and in the sink. Jacques stood at the counter, an apron over his clothes, a dusting of white powder over his face, in his eyebrows, tipping his lashes and coating his midnight black hair.

Mikhail burst out laughing. Even with Raven, who constantly amused him, he rarely gave a deep, roaring belly laugh, but the sight of his usually grim-faced brother covered in flour and sweating bullets was too much even for him.

Jacques spun around, eyes glittering with warning menace-a fierce scowl, which should have intimidated the strongest and most courageous of warriors, on his face. A thin white scar circled his throat and marred his jaw and one cheek, bearing evidence of his past. It was extremely rare for a Carpathian body to scar, as they healed so easily, but Jacques's body bore evidence of brutal torture and probably always would, the thin scar around his throat and the jagged round hole in his chest marking where a stake had been driven deep into his body. «It is not funny.»

«It is very funny,» Mikhail insisted. It was the first time Mikhail could recall his brother ever looking so disconcerted. Shea had not only saved his life and his sanity, but had brought Jacques back to life with her joy and humor. Mikhail shared the image of his brother with Raven. Her soft laughter filled his mind and poured over him with love woven deep in the rich tones. There was such intimacy with Raven, an intimacy he knew his brother shared with Shea-and it had saved Jacques's life. For that alone Mikhail would always treasure his sister-in-law. «Even Raven finds the situation amusing.»

«Raven. Do not say her name to me right now. She's the one who got me into this.» Jacques blew upward in the hope of clearing the flour from his lashes.

«I believe it is Shea you are helping,» Mikhail pointed out, the grin refusing to leave his face.

«Shea was in here crying. Crying, Mikhail. She sat in the middle of the floor and wept over a stupid loaf of bread.» Jacques scowled and looked around him, lowering his voice. «I could not bear to see her like that.»

For one moment, Jacques looked utterly helpless, rather than the dangerous hunter Mikhail knew him to be.

«Who would have ever thought bread could explode? The dough rose up over the top of the bowl and became a volcano, crawling down the sides and across the counter until I thought it was alive.» Jacques shook a flour-covered piece of paper. «This is the recipe and it says cover with a tea towel. The tea towel did not have a prayer of containing that horrific bubbling brew.»

Mikhail pressed a hand to his side. He hadn't laughed so much in a hundred years. «I can only say I am glad I did not see it.»

«Quit laughing and get in here and help me.» There was an edge of desperation to Jacques's voice. «For some reason that makes no sense to me at all, Shea is determined to make this bread for the party. She wants it braided and made into loaves and put in the oven. This is my third attempt. I thought people went to stores and bought this stuff.»

«You hunt vampires, Jacques,» Mikhail said. «Making a loaf of bread cannot be that difficult.»

«You say that now, only because you have not tried it. Come in here and close the door.» Jacques rubbed his arm across his face, smearing more white flour everywhere. «I need to talk to you anyway.» He touched Shea's mind to ensure she was a distance away. His gaze shifted back to the dough, avoiding his brother's piercing eyes. «Shea's been corresponding with a woman who thinks she may be a distant relative.»

The smile faded from Mikhail's face. «How long?»

«About a year. The woman found photographs in her attic and apparently is into genealogy. She wrote Shea asking if they could be related. She thinks Shea is Maggie's granddaughter rather than her actual daughter. Shea wanted the pictures of her mother and wrote back to her.»

Mikhail stifled the groan that threatened. «Jacques. You know better. How could she have tracked Shea in the first place? We are careful not to leave a trail.»

«It is not so easy now with computers, Mikhail, and Shea needs them to do research. The path takes her many places.»

«She should never have answered the contact.»

«I know. I know. I shouldn't have allowed it, but she's given up so much to be with me. I'm not like the rest of you and I never will be. You know that.» Jacques's gaze shifted from his brother and pain rippled in the air between them. «She deserves better and I wanted to give her one small gift. Corresponding with someone who may be a relative and who claimed to have pictures of her mother-how could she possibly resist? And I could not bring myself to deny her.»