Scent of Darkness (29 page)

Firebird laughed. "What will you do if I have a girl?"

"Spoil it as horribly as we spoiled you," he said.

'Then she will be blessed." Firebird pressed his hand in hers.

These Wilders were different from any family Ann had ever seen. They loved one another, and they showed their love through touch. There was an old-world charm about their affection. To Ann, the constant contact was an invasion of her personal space; nevertheless, she sort of liked it. It certainly explained why Jasha had a reputation around the office as being touchy-feely.

While the family feasted, Zorana sat next to Kon-stantine, leaned close, and quietly spoke to him.

He nodded, and when the plates had been emptied and pushed away, he lightly tapped his wineglass with his knife. "Today I found out my daughter, my sweet little Firebird, is going to give me a grandchild. I am very happy"—he placed his hand over his heart—"yet I find myself furious with the beast who seized her, seduced her, and took her with no thought of the future. She will not tell me who he is so that I can take appropriate measures, and I have no choice but to let him go unpunished."

Firebird looked down at her plate and played with her fork.

"Today my wife, my Zorana, came to me and said that she believes another such beast exists." He looked right at Jasha. "And he lives under my roof."

Ann choked on the last bite of salad.

"This beast I have taught better. This beast has no excuse.” Konstantine said. "Come here, Jasha."

Ann opened her mouth to object.

Jasha covered her hand with his, and shook his head. The kitchen was absolutely silent as he went to Konstantine's side and knelt beside the chair.

Tubes were taped to the old man's arm and ran up his nose. His complexion was pale, but his words were stern. "Did you take this girl against her will?"

"Yes."

Konstantine lifted his arm and slapped Jasha hard across the face, and for all his feeble appearance, the blow was sharp and sure.

Ann leaped up. "What are you doing?"

Rurik and Firebird caught her arms and held her in place.

Jasha didn't move except to shake his head as if to clear it.

"He's from the Old Country," Firebird told Ann softly. "He used to take unwilling women, and he stole my mother—"

"But that's no reason to hit his son!"

"And he taught his sons that they should always control themselves." Rurik also spoke softly.

Konstantine took a deep breath. His complexion, already pale, turned gray. "Was she a virgin?"

"Yes."

Ann lunged again, wanting to claw her way forward.

Firebird spoke in her ear. "Today, he found out I was pregnant by a son of a bitch. Not to mention he has adopted you as his own. He's angry with Jasha, and he's protective of you."

Konstantine slapped Jasha's other cheek, and the sound echoed through the house. "How
dare
you disrespect everything I taught you? Have you no honor? How dare you violate an innocent girl?"

Ann wrestled herself free and bounded forward. "How dare
you
hit him? You have no right!"

"Ann. It's okay." Jasha still knelt beside his father, the marks of Konstantine's fingers clear on his cheeks.

Konstantine looked up at her. "You are the daughter of my heart. I would do the same to any man who took you. But Jasha—it is worse that it is Jasha, for he is truly my son. I have every right to discipline him. I taught him better."

"Well, he's my—" What was he? Ann didn't know, but she blundered on. "He's my
mate,
and I tell you, don't lay a hand on him again."

Konstantine cocked his head and examined her. "Your mate, is he? How do you know that?"

She shrugged, a large, helpless roll of her shoulders. "I simply knew the first time I saw him that he ... was the one."

"That he gave you no choice—you forgive?"

"I think . . . that it was inevitable."

Konstantine's gaze moved beyond her to Zorana, who sat, her fingers woven together. "I am glad for that." His gaze returned to Jasha. "But I am sorely displeased with you. What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking. I was angry. I wanted her. And she ... ran." Jasha glanced up at Ann, and what she saw in his face frightened and thrilled her.

He still wanted her. If she ran, he would still give chase.

Konstantine continued. "So you, like a beast with no brain or heart, pursued her and raped her."

"No!" Ann took Jasha's hand. "I ... he made me . . . different. I didn't know before, but after ... I ..."

Again Konstantine's gaze shifted to Zorana.

Their eyes met.

Ann caught a glimpse of red glow in his.

As if suddenly attacked by shyness, Zorana's gaze dropped, and a half smile tilted her lips.

Something had passed between them. A memory of a time long ago.

Jasha kept Ann's hand in his, and took Konstantine's. with his other. "Papa, I deserve to be slapped, and I thank you for your care of Ann. But honestly, if I had it all to do over again, I would do exactly the same ... as long as, in the end, I could have Ann."

"All right." Konstantine shoved at Jasha's shoulder, then shook his finger in his face. "But you are not an animal. Remember that. Instinct can be your friend—and your enemy. Use your brain, boy, and don't let your
erkek
point the way."

As Jasha came to Ann, everyone was smiling, not at them, but about them. Taking her hand, he led her outdoors.

She went willingly, wanting out of this house stuffed with so much kind interest she was afraid she would suffocate.

Jasha walked to the stone bench under the broad-leaved maple, sat down, and patted the place beside him.

She sat down and stared straight forward, shoulders hunched, hands gripping the edge of the cool stone.

"So, I'm your mate, am I?"

"I suppose." She'd thought if she left the house, she'd be less embarrassed. Instead her face flamed hotter. "But I don't even know what that means."

"I do."

He was going to say she loved him, and that was true, but she didn't need him to smirk about it. "It's not what you think."

"But it is. Who better to know than me?" Taking her chin, he turned it toward him. "Ann,
ruyshka,
I want to marry you."

Shinned, she stared into his golden eyes for the briefest second. Then she came off the cool stone in a fiery red wrath. "How dare you? I know I'm an orphan who was thrown away in a Dumpster—
"

"The Dumpster. You never said anything about the Dumpster!"

She hadn't said anything about a lot of things. "I know I'm nothing more than your secretary—"

"Administrative assistant."

"And I'm too tall and my hair's brown and my boobs aren't very big. But at least they're real, and so am I, and I won't let you make fun of me!"

He stared at her as she stood over him, fists clenched at her side, vibrating with indignation.

"I am not making fun of you."

"Maybe not. But you're not telling the truth, either." Not telling the truth about loving her, she meant.

"I like brown hair. I like tall women. They're easy to dance with." He stood up, right against her, and wrapped his hands around her waist. "I like you. You're wonderful to make love to. I admire you. You don't have any relatives, but you've collected friends around you and made your own family, and they adore you."

"Pfft!"

"Do you think I haven't noticed the way they talk about you? They're always pointing out your good qualities. And I know damned good and well if Celia realized what had happened between us in the woods, my dad would have had to stand in line to knock me ass over teakettle." Jasha brought her close so that his body warmed her, and he tilted her head to rest against his shoulder. "Ann, why is it so hard to believe I want to marry you?"

Because he didn't know who—or what—she truly was. He didn't know what happened to people who cared for her. For all that he was a demon, he didn't realize that she was the worst kind of murderer—the kind who watched people die for her, and did nothing more than cry about it.

And yes, he could embrace her and seduce her until she melted against him. But she knew exactly why he wanted to marry her—because of Zorana's prophecy. Because he thought he should, or because he thought to bind her more closely to him and his family. She wanted to be loved, but she damned well wouldn't be used.

"I love you," he said.

She'd heard him use that impatient tone of voice before—with his fiancee when she'd thrown one of her tantrums.

She removed first one of his arms from around her, then the other. "I liked it better when you didn't tell me lies."

"What makes you think I'm lying to you?" He did incredulous very well.

"You'll do anything for the sake of your family," she said bitterly. "But do you really think I'm so dumb that I'll believe a man who discovers he loves me after I found the icon that would save his family? Come on, Jasha. What if some other woman had found it? Would you still love me, or would you oh so suitably fall in love with her, instead?"

"My father expects us to marry, yes. My family expects it. But I know what I know. We've come through fear and pain and struggle together, and because of all that, in only a few days we've grown closer than most people do in a lifetime. We trust each other, Ann. What's more important than that?"

"Love."

"I said I loved you."

"And I said I didn't believe you. That tepid admiration you feel for me is not love."

"My dear Ann"—Jasha spoke through clenched teeth—"I would like to point out that you wouldn't recognize love if it dragged you off into the forest, which at this moment seems like the only way to get through to you."

She turned her back on him. "You're right. I wouldn't recognize love. But I know it's not synonymous with convenience."

"All right, Ann." His voice was crisp and businesslike. "I thought we had established more confidence in each other than this. I realize now I'm going to have to work harder to make you believe that I would never let you down."

She couldn't stand to see him angry. And she didn't understand herself. All her life she'd told herself she would be practical about marriage. She'd promised herself she'd be happy to be part of a family. Now she was rejecting him not because he turned into a wolf, and not because of the responsibilities of being the icon finder, but because he didn't truly love her? Why wouldn't she take what he offered?

Because she wanted to know she was more to him than his other women.

"I grew up begging for scraps of affection from nuns, from other people's parents, and I deserve better than that. I'm not going to take the icon away, but I don't care what your mother's prophecy said." She faced him. Faced his irritation and his impatience with a lift of her chin. "I'm not going to be the wife you have to marry to save your family."

"All right. You're not going to believe me. Do you believe this?" He caught her wrists, yanked her toward him, and kissed her.

His passion was like a blast from the furnace of hell, a mixture of sex and fury. She shouldn't respond; right now, she didn't even like him. But it seemed liking him had nothing to do with the blistering sensations he roused in her, the ones that made her fight to free her hands, then wrap them around his shoulders and yield to him.

By the time he rifted his head, she was clinging, weak-kneed, and reckless. She would have gone anywhere with him, done anything for him. ...

"Jasha!" Firebird yelled from the porch. "Ann!"

Jasha lifted Ann's chin, and red rimmed his golden eyes. "Remember that kiss when you're telling yourself you're not interested in my kind of love.”

"Jasha!" Firebird yelled again. "Ann!"

He glanced toward his sister. "We'll finish this discussion later," he said to Ann.

"Why bother?" Ann muttered as she followed him toward the house.

"Come in here. Quick!" Firebird disappeared inside.

Jasha looked back at Ann.

One thought swept through their minds.

Konstantine.

They both raced toward the house.

Inside, everyone stood in the living room, staring at Rurik.

Rurik held the phone, a mixture of awe and disquiet on his face as he spoke sternly into the receiver.

Firebird grabbed their arms and squeezed. "He got a call from the site in Scotland, and he's gone all air force captain on them."

Ann didn't understand the tension that held the family so taut with anticipation.

As soon as Rurik hung up, Jasha asked, "What is it?"

Rurik looked at Jasha as if he didn't recognize him. "The tomb . . . my team excavated far enough to see the gleam of gold. There are traps, but also, they think there's a huge cache of treasure."

"Way to go!" Jasha stuck out his hand, and again they did the elaborate handshake.

"I instructed them to wait for me to return before they try to spring the traps and go for the gold. But one thing's clear—we've found the tomb I was looking for, the tomb of a great Celtic conqueror." Rurik's voice became quiet, slow, and dark. "A tomb that dates back a thousand years."