The Fallen One (Sons of the Dark Mother, Book One) (48 page)

Now, not even Jared’s eyes were
dry.

He didn’t even try to check the
tears that were running down his face.

And when Jes looked up at
Justice—she was shocked to realize that he had tears running down
his face too.

It turned out that the old witch
had spoken of another
prophecy
, one that spoke of a
powerful child who was half vamp and half Jaguar. Whether this
would be that child, they would all have to wait and see. But it
did turn out that Mia was, in fact, pregnant.

Such a pregnancy was unheard of.
The vamps could hardly have children of their own. And it was even
more difficult for turned vamps.

But Mia was pregnant—with
Constantine’s child.

Nothing would stop him from trying
to get his hands on her again.

Now Mia was important for two
reasons. She carried both the virus of the only vamp the vaccine
had not changed, and the child of that vamp.

She carried within her blood a
power they couldn’t begin to understand, and the child within
her—had survived it as well.

Epilogue

Jes and Justice

For a long time, Justice just held
Jes
—or, as it were, Shira, though she had
become so used to everyone calling her Jes that she had told
everyone she would rather keep that name for everyday use. She
would use the name Shira in ritual only.

They had come through this bout
with Constantine. Little doubt existed in anyone’s mind that he was
done with them yet, but for now, anyway, there would be
peace.

At least until he found another way
to come at them.

Jes had some healing to do—and some
healing to help Justice to do as well. Neither of them would be
able to forgive themselves for allowing Mia to put herself in such
danger.

But they would do everything they
possibly could to help her heal from it.

They had moved the vaccines to
another, more secure, location. Justice’s parents had, of course,
gone with it. Justice felt that he understood his father just a
little more. His father had made it his life’s mission to make sure
that several races of beings, here on Mother Earth, did not suffer
for them stumbling upon those vaccines.

Justice realized that he was proud
of his parents.

If it were not for them, there was
little doubt that Constantine would have stolen those vaccines a
long time ago, if only by means of the man who had been called
Jes’s father—and killed Jes’s mother.

He was a man that Jes, herself, had
taken the lead in finding now. And Justice couldn’t imagine a
better detective on the case.

Jared had come to live at the
Alliance.

Understanding his role as the
Prince of Earth had become his primary focus. Having the four of
them together was imperative—to the future of all the races. Just
as the Sisters of Three must remain together, for as long as there
were those who tried to threaten the future of Mother
Earth.

Dracon no longer tried to leave the
compound at night, either. In fact, they had started building
special living quarters for him and Dara, right next
door.

Who knew what the future held in
store for those two—but that was Dracon’s story to tell.

Justice was content to pull Jes in
tightly to him—and just hold her all night long. For now, they had
back their nights, and could live a normal life during the
day.

And they were all very
thankful.

Jes snuggled up to her mate. They
had set the ceremony for their union for three months from now. She
hoped that this would give Mia enough time in her healing to enjoy
herself some—but they all knew that she had a long road ahead of
her.

They wouldn’t completely know how
the vaccine had affected her for some time to come, but she had
been sent to the same lab where they were working on the vaccines.
Mia, herself, could become as important to those who sought the
vaccines, as the vaccines themselves.

And who knew how a pregnancy of a
Jaguar and a vampire would go?

Her sisters had gone with her. They
would not leave her side now. She and Justice were to follow when
Mia’s time came near.

But they must be very careful not
to lead anyone to her—or the vaccines.

Perhaps, when the time came, they
would move her to another place, away from the vaccines, and keep
her home base secret for now.

Jes missed her best
friend.

The most amazing part had come when
Jared had also requested to accompany her when her time came, while
he waited for his own quarters at the Alliance to be built. Of
course, he could not be away from the Alliance for too long, not
while there might still be a threat.

And for the same reason, he
couldn’t keep going back and forth to Mia, for fear that he might
lead someone to her.

He seemed to fear that happening
more than anyone.

Jes didn’t know how she had missed
the fact that those two were sweet on each other—hadn’t, in fact,
been aware of it until the day Mia had told them all what
Constantine had done to her.

Justice had reacted much like a
typically protective brother would at Jared’s request—and had first
told him
no
,
outright, and then threatened to beat him within an inch of his
life if he so much as went near her again.

It had been Mia who had changed his
mind, when she had come to him to tell him that she very much
wanted Jared with her, and that Justice better never threaten him
again.

Justice had actually had the grace
to look sheepish for making a threat on Jared’s life.

Jes had thought it was the cutest
thing she had witnessed in a long time. Imagine having a protective
brother. She wouldn’t have minded having a brother like that a time
or two in her own life.

In the long run, it had been
decided. Jared would come along when they all went to her. And if
they could find a way to bring her home, then the two of them would
be able to spend time together.

Jes felt sorry for them.

But Jared had to remain with the
other three princes—and they would Mia out of the wrong hands—at
all costs.

Constantine hunted for her. They
all knew this. And not just because of what her body might have
done with the mixture of the vaccine—and his own blood.

But because of the very rare child
who grew within her.

Jes still couldn’t believe what had
happened to her. None of them had expected that outcome. But
Constantine had proven that he was several steps ahead—though they
really shouldn’t have expected anything else, given his many
thousands of years of experience in dealing with his
enemies.

Still, they had managed to come
out of their first war with Constantine much better than anyone
would have thought possible. And they were busy preparing for
any
future
confrontations with him.

Yet—they all knew—there existed a
connection between Constantine, the man Jes had known as her
father—and Xavier Dubioux. And that connection lay in the whispers
in the wind about the Dark Cloth—the dark forces that had been
plaguing the Earth since before Atlantis.

The dark forces that had moved all
of them around like great chess pieces on a chessboard—while they
maneuvered their way into gaining control of all the
races.

It was what they had been seeking
when they had managed to bring about the fall of Atlantis, and what
they sought still.

They sought to
control the stone.

But that also was another
story.

Who knew where it even lay? There
were only theories that it was well hidden in the Land of the Fae.
Yet, that was certainly as good of a place as any that could be
had. Certainly the humans couldn’t protect it. And the Jaguar
People and the ancient vamps were too busy trying to protect the
races from being governed by the Dark Cloth, who sought to at last
gain complete control and dominance over Mother Earth.

However—that was something they
would spend the rest of their lives preventing.

And so, right now, Jes simply
snuggled up to her mate.

When that time came—they would be
ready to fight—once more—but for now, it was time to
love.

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Chapter

DOORWAY OF THE
TRIQUETRA

by Lenore Wolfe

T
his was not happening.

Mira Levine flattened the
back of her five-foot-nine, athletic frame against the outside wall
of her apartment. The dumpster from down the alley smelled of the
next door Mexican restaurant’s leftover food, pitched out and left
to rot. Not the rot that curls the hairs of your nose, but the rot
that causes the stomach to threaten to pitch its contents. Mira’s
stomach clenched, but that wasn’t enough to tear her mind from what
she’d just seen walking down the street—in the middle of the
night—in the middle of St. Louis.

Mira took a deep breath to
calm her broken senses. She flipped herself around, shaking,
shoving her long, dark hair out of her face and not hesitating to
press her designer-clothed front against the red bricks to take
another look. Damn it! All she had wanted to do was to get a book
she’d left in her car. She’d been looking forward to a calm, quiet
evening—warm bath, soft pajamas, and a deep, plushy
robe.

She flipped around so her
back was to the wall, letting out a loud, frustrated sigh, then
clapped her hand over her mouth when she realized what she had
done. Sneaking a peek around the corner, she checked to make sure
she’d not given herself away.

She had stepped out, not
paying attention, had taken the three steps down the stairs and was
halfway down the walk before she’d spotted it. Then, she’d done a
fast sprint back to the side of her apartment, seeing that as the
closest protection. Well, it wasn’t like you saw something
like
that
walking
down the street every day.

Working up the nerve for
another look, she pressed her face next to her trembling hands on
the cool bricks, digging her perfect manicure into the stone until
pain shot through her fingertips, forcing her to ease up. Her mind
warned her not to, but Mira never was one for caution. At this
moment, she needed things
to make
sense
more than she needed
caution.

Chewing on her lower lip,
she peeked around the corner at the street—and fought to take
another breath.

Sure
enough—
there it stood!

Mira shook her head,
pressing her face back against the bricks, squeezing her grey-green
eyes shut in the kind of denial the mind takes on when something
doesn’t fit. Her brain scrambled to make sense of what she was
seeing. She stood there, her body uncooperative, and fought to
breathe—fought to stay standing, her knees threatening to buckle.
She opened her eyes, arguing with herself
not
to look.

She peeked
again.

There, at the end of the
street, stood a full-grown, black-as-midnight, live, man-eating,
jungle cat—a jaguar to judge by her heavier frame, and a female to
judge by her smaller stature.

She shook her head. She
wasn’t having
this conversation
with herself in the middle of the street, in the
middle of the night, in the middle of St. Louis, where that cat
could not possibly be.

The cat chose to defy her
careful logic by letting out a loud cry, sending shivers skittering
down Mira’s spine. Fine hairs rose on her arms. She froze and told
herself not to move—if she didn’t move, she wouldn’t be detected.
If she wasn’t detected, she wouldn’t be eaten.

She was doing it
again.

She lost the argument and
peeked again, if only to convince herself this
was
happening—and to make sure that
thing
was
not
headed her
way—
w
hich was
exactly what it was doing
.

The cat was heading
straight for her!

For a second Mira stood
there, trembling lips compressed against a scream. Then, the force
of her own ramming heart propelled her into action. Glancing down
the barren alley, she fought a fresh wave of panic. No doorways, or
stairways, lead out. The ripe dumpster, overflowing with garbage
and cardboard boxes, sat against a brick wall, and a gate stood at
the end of the alley, with an overly large padlock.

She saw no place to hide,
no place to climb—no place to keep her from becoming that beast’s
dinner, anyway.

She peeked around the
corner again, in the kind of morbid torture the mind takes when it
doesn’t want to look—and can’t seem to stop, holding her hand over
her hammering heart. Blood pounded in her ears, drowning out all
other sound. She let out a small cry. Scrambling for the cell phone
in her pocket, Mira flipped it open, punching 9-1-1 with fumbling
fingers. Peeking around the corner yet again, she dropped the
phone.