Michele Hauf - Moonspun

She fell aside, rolling onto her back, and slid a hand over her chest. Licking her fingers clean refocused her thoughts. So much potential for life in this substance. And then she thought about what she always tried not to think about after sex—a vampire could not get a werewolf pregnant. It wasn’t the way things worked between their breeds, for reasons beyond her ken. Though certainly a werewolf male could impregnate a female vampire. And she had heard rumors the reverse was possible with great magic, or voodoo, or who knew, maybe some kind of faery boon.

Creed nestled alongside her, nudging his nose into her coal-dark hair and cupping her breast with his wide, warm hand. His hard muscles melded against her softness like a puzzle piece finding home. He smelled like sex and chocolate and strength. “What are you thinking about, kitty cat?”

“Creed.”

“Wild-haired sex kitten?”

“Watch it, pale vampire dude.” She reached behind and over her hip and gripped his soft penis, tightly.

“All right, I’m sorry,” he quickly said. “No more teasing.”

She released him. “You start that, and I’ll have to call you longtooth.”

“My teeth are long.” He bit into her shoulder, not breaking skin, though she didn’t mind when he did, rarely, pierce her flesh. “On occasion.”

They’d been forced to marry in a match arranged by the Council, a group that oversaw the paranormal nations. The marriage had been a means to bring together the opposing breeds and begin peace talks. It had worked to the extent that some vampire tribes had gained respect from a few packs, but Blu wasn’t so foolish to believe either breed would ever drop their prejudices and embrace the other graciously.

Surprisingly to both of them, they had fallen in love, and the marriage could be counted a success. And after she’d learned to trust her vampire husband—who had once slain werewolves in medieval times—Blu had allowed him to bite her. With Creed’s bite, they had bonded in a way vampires bonded. Yet werewolves bitten by a vampire almost always developed an unnatural blood hunger. That had not happened to her yet, for which she was thankful. Probably because he had bitten her only a dozen times in a few years. She couldn’t fathom drinking blood for pleasure.

“Deep thoughts?” he wondered, tugging a sheet corner to wipe off her chest. The polite Frenchman to the core, he was warrior, lover and doting husband, all rolled into one fine package.

Deep brown eyes she could stare into forever looked suddenly worried in the soft glow from the bedside lamp. She’d mentioned her deep thoughts casually before, but had never dared say how much those thoughts haunted her of late. They’d been married two years. She adored her husband. To know she would enjoy centuries with him thrilled her beyond measure.

But something was missing. An innate, visceral call to the maternal.

“I want to have your children,” she whispered, feeling as if the confession was so sacred she could only share it with him, and only in quiet tones. “I wish there was a way, Creed.”

Feeling the tender, yet insistent, tug in her chest, she blinked, and Creed traced the tear below her eye.

“If I could make it so, I would, lover mine. I hate seeing you unhappy.”

“I’m never unhappy with you. It’s…well, you lying beside me right now? I was thinking how we’re like pieces of a puzzle perfectly fit. Yet a piece of me is missing, maybe fallen on the floor somewhere, and I can’t seem to find it.”

He kissed her chin, her lips, her eyelids. The reverent stillness allowed her to feel his heartbeats against her chest. If they embraced long enough their heartbeats would synch.

“Wolves are, by nature, family-centric,” she said, pressing her palm over his beating heart. “I want to make babies with you, lover. Have a pack.”

“What if they were vampire babies?”

“Do you think that matters to me? Honestly?”

“No. The whole hating the vamps thing is not within your nature. At least, not any more.”

“I could never hate you. Or any child I had that might have to drink blood to survive. Hell, if I can’t have a pack, I’ll have a tribe! But our children could be wolves.”

“Or half breeds,” he said. “I would love a child too. I crave innocence. The wonder of youth.”

Blu sighed. Such talk stirred a dangerous fantasy. Because that was all it could ever be. “I thought I heard something about saying blessings to Faery if one desired something with all their heart.”

“I’ll say them daily, then.” He clasped her hand and drew it against his heart. “I would die for you, Blu, you know that.”

“Yes, but if you were dead, then who would give me babies?”

He chuckled. “Is this what they call the ticking biological clock?”

“No, it’s an instinctual desire to create a family with the man I love.” She kissed him, dashing her tongue against his fangs, which she knew gave him a visceral thrill. “Would you be upset if I did some research? Tried to find a means to make this happen?”

“Upset? Blu, I’ll help you. After living almost a millennium, nothing could please me more than to finally become a father.”

* * *

“Are you serious?”

Blu rolled over on the huge beach towel spread next to the pool. Bree, her faery best friend, was teleconferencing her via their iPads and had just told her an old faery tale about a kitsune shifter who had wanted to have a vampire’s child. Certain animal breeds could not procreate with vampires. But a faery boon—powerful faery magic—could overcome any genetic obstacle.

“So you think if I asked a faery to help me get pregnant by my husband, it would work?” Creed was inside, lingering in bed, the sun too high to allow him to be out by her side.

“That’s how it worked for the kitsune,” Bree said. “But Blu, it’s an old wives’ tale, and who knows if it’s true.”

“Yeah, but it never hurts to try. Could you give me a boon?”

“Oh no. You’d have to ask a wise faery, a sage, or someone in royalty like a champion or mystic. And you won’t find them wandering about the mortal realm.”

“So I’d have to go to Faery?” She gripped the iPad as if she could reach through the device and grab her friend’s shoulder. “Bree, you have to help me get there.”

“Sweetie, slow down. I know you want this with all your heart.”

“With two hearts, if I had two.”

“No faery will do anything for another being without a return boon.”

“So I have to give them something? That’s cool. We’re rich. I can pay, shower them with diamonds, offer them a condo in Paris.”

Bree laughed, and Blu caught her chin in hand. She knew diamonds meant little to faeries. Nor would mortal money bring up a glint in their violet eyes.

“How do I get to Faery?”

“You don’t. The faery would have to come to you. You’d have to perform a ritual to call them out. I’ll see what I can come up with, okay?”

“I love you, Bree. How’s Rev?”

“You mean the sexy vampire who is lying in my bed right now? I’d say about half-mast, and eager for me to get off the screen.”

“It’s best not to keep hungry vampires waiting. But don’t keep this wolf waiting, either. Call me as soon as you find something.”

She signed off and set the iPad aside. “Maybe this can really happen.”

Filled with hope, Blu tugged off her bikini top and dove into the pool.

* * *

“Thanks, Hawkes. Can you email that spell?” Creed asked.

“Yes, but it’ll take a day or two to have it interpreted,” his friend Rhys Hawkes replied over the phone. Their international connection, from Minneapolis to Paris, was ridden with static.