Obsidian Mask

by Scarlett Dawn

  He surveyed me, quickly pulling the blanket up over any exposed areas so the doctor’s hand was under the blanket…yeah…right before nine damn bodyguards squeezed into the small room. That wasn’t awkward or anything.

  But Daniil motioned for Dr. Wisser—who was shocked silly—to continue, and then started talking a mile a minute in Russian to the guards whom I barely saw him ever speak with. Dr. Wisser blinked—kind of like me—and turned back to the screen and found a heartbeat. And a round of cheers went up in the room pretty much scaring both the doctor and me. There were just too much scary ugly and guns in the room for me, and I glanced at Daniil.

  On a positive note, it only took one look from me before he shooed them back out into the hallway.

  After shutting the door, Daniil started dialing on his phone and stated, “Grigori, are you around your brothers and sister?” Daniil nodded. “Put your cell on speaker phone.” He waited, and said, “Sorry to interrupt your work, children, but you’ve got to hear this.” He put his own phone on speaker phone and I could hear them talking quietly to each other, asking one another what the hell was going on. Daniil jerked the phone to the doc. “Put this by the speaker and do it again.”

  Dr. Wisser’s eyes looked like they were going to cross, but he sucked it up, placing the phone by the speaker, and Daniil barked loudly, “Be quiet and listen.” And amazingly, I heard all his kids shut up. The doc’s eyebrows rose, but he placed the contraption back on my belly, and within thirty seconds, the whooshoo-whooshoo-whooshoo was heard again.

  “What the hell’s that?” I heard Eva state.

  “The baby’s heartbeat,” Grigori mumbled, “Shut up!”

  “What’s going on in here?” I heard Ember’s voice from far away, and then a very un-Ember-like squeal. “Is that the baby’s heartbeat?”

  “Hush!” Artur piped up. And then…silence.

  Daniil pointed at my belly, commanding, “Find all of them again. I want them to hear.” I bit my lip as the doctor took a deep breath in and started moving the thing—I was going to call it the thing from now on—around my belly again, and Daniil stated loudly and clearly into the silence, “That was brother number one. Dr. Wisser will find brother number two in a moment.”

  My jaw gaped. “We have no damn clue if it’s a boy or a girl!”

  Daniil leaned over me, stating solemnly, “We know their healthy and alive. And that was most definitely a boy.”

  “What are you? A damn Native American medicine man?” I griped. “You. Have. No. Clue.” I glanced at the doctor, stating sternly, “And we don’t want to know. When the babies come out, then we’ll know.”

  “Oh! Oh! We want to know as soon as we can,” Daniil countered quickly, pulling out his wallet.

  “Put your fucking wallet away,” I griped harshly. Shit, I couldn’t compete with that.

  “Be still,” he told me quietly and then asked the doctor bluntly, starting to count his wad-o-cash, “How much to know for certain they’re all boys?”

  “Daniil!” I stated, hmm, a little shrilly. “I don’t want to know!”

  He glared at me and started counting again.

  Pissed, I grabbed the cash from his wallet and tossed it across the room. In retrospect, that probably would have been a great time to implore my mother’s neat trick. But, I do remember her stating it didn’t work all the time. And this was one of those times for me.

  The doctor’s hands paused over me as we all watched the green bills flutter throughout the room, silhouetted against the sunshine coming in through the window. Daniil growled, “I cannot believe you just threw forty thousand dollars across the fucking room. Do you know how long that will take to pick up?”

  The doctor’s jaw gaped at the still falling money, but I sputtered, “What type of person carries around that much cash?”

  “The kind that can afford to,” Daniil griped, moving across the room to pick up his money. But, he stopped and pointed at the floor, stating bluntly to Dr. Wisser, “The monies all yours if you pick it up and promise to tell me their sexes as soon as possible.”

  I heard a whistle over the line that I had forgotten about and heard Anna state, “Man, she can’t compete with that.” I hadn’t even realized she was there. Honestly, the whole fucking work was probably listening in. And sadly, I couldn’t agree with her more…except…

  “The couch, Daniil. Long…cold…lonely fucking nights on your lumpy couch,” I stated slowly, meaning it fully. If he was going to use his arsenal to its fullest and ignore my wishes, then I needed to fight fire with fire. And this was the only fire I could think of on such short notice.

  Daniil stilled, glancing at me. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Just like you wouldn’t offer my doctor forty G’s to give you information about babies in my stomach after I already said no!”

  The doctor was still staring at the money on the ground, and I tried to ignore that and keep my game face on.

  Daniil smirked, his grin knowing. “I could seduce you like that,” he snapped his fingers, “and you know it.”

  I smirked right back. “Not if I sleep in my parents’ room.”

  His mouth thinned, and he looked positively pained, asking the doctor, “How many more months until she has the babies?”

  I pointed at him. “You know what, my dear, you’re sleeping on the damn couch tonight for even considering it!”

  He rolled his shoulders, and glared at me, but bent down and started picking up his money, muttering in Russian under his breath. I snapped my fingers at the doctor, stating, “That’s his way of giving me what I want. Now hurry up, so everyone on the line can get back to work.”

  “That was impressive,” Zane stated clearly over the line. “You’re learning.”

  I snorted as the doc finally yanked his gaze away from the money, a little downhearted and went back to work. “I hope I’ve learned something by now.”

  Daniil muttered loudly in Russian, and most of the men on the other end of the line laughed. I decided to let that one pass. He was ticked and venting.

  “Baby Two,” Dr. Wisser stated…and there was silence as everyone listened to the heartbeat. Daniil even stopped moving to look up at me from his squat on the floor. Though he was still upset, his lips lifted in the tiniest of smiles and dark eyes softening instantly. My heart melted, irritation gone that fast, remembering—knowing—that our babies were alive and well, growing as they should be.

  Daniil dropped the money in his hand to the floor and stood, walking on all those bills to come to my side. He took my hand and placed my fingers to his lips, and kept them there, staring down at me with so much love in his eyes, I knew he wouldn’t be sleeping on the couch tonight. By the time Dr. Wisser found our third child’s heartbeat again, Daniil and I both heard a few sniffles over the line.

  I heard Anna state softly, “I want one.”

  “Then let’s go make one,” Carl stated instantly, his voice a hell of a lot rougher than it normally was, and we all heard another squeal that had to have been Anna.

  Daniil chuckled, his gaze on Dr. Wisser, “You may have a referral soon.”

  That night after dinner, I headed in the direction of the music room where Daniil had promised he would play the piano for me. He had been too busy earlier and I had been asleep by the time he was free. Peace and happy, the last thing I wanted to see was Ember staring silently out of a window in the front room. It was late, and most everyone had gone to bed by now.

  I sighed and stopped. Dammit!

  She seemed so fucking lost standing there with her arms wrapped around herself, the darkness of the room like a blanket around her.

  Over the past week, I had noticed little things that I had missed before. Her confused looks that she tried to mask when everyone around her started speaking Russian. Her careful expressions when Brent or Cole was around because of Nikki and Beth. The way she chattered non-stop with Zane about the occupants of the mansion across the street. Where she was staring now as if she coul
d see it. It wasn’t possible even in the daytime. And then, there were her furtive glances at my stomach.

  Pretty much, Ember was a mess.

  I felt for her. I had begun to like the redheaded bitch…because I knew she had a soft heart that she obviously tried so hard to shelter and protect. I took a deep breath and walked into the dark room, standing by her side and staring out the window. I ignored how she stiffened.

  She didn’t move away, though.

  I asked, “Wanna talk? I’m actually a pretty good listener.” Duh. I was a reporter…er…would be again once the babies were born and my boss let me have my job back. Like Ember, I didn’t have a lot of friends here to talk with where the information wouldn’t make its way back to the men we were hiding our issues from. Sometimes I might need to speak with someone. And fuck, if she wasn’t the only one around here to do it with.

  Ember snorted. “Duh.”

  It was best not to let her know how entwined that was to my thoughts. So…I waited.

  And waited a little more.

  My feet tingled with numbness.

  She murmured, “This is going to sound awful…but…do you know how badly Brent and Cole’s return screwed everything up?”

  Blunt. “No. I don’t.” Because, really I didn’t.

  Ember nodded. “Honestly, there are so many fucking things…” She made a frustrated sound in her throat. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  When she didn’t say anything else, I shrugged. “Start at the beginning.”

  And…fuck me…if she didn’t start at the beginning.

  The very beginning.

  Like from when she was a little girl first meeting Brent. Her relationship with Brent and a woman named Ally. Abuse from her father. Her ability to read people from said abuse. When she ran from her home to New York, hoping and praying Brent still wanted her. How she met Cole. Then when she fell in love with Brent and Cole. Her run from them.

  Meeting Daniil’s kids, which she called the Donnallys. Her instant friendship with Grigori. The twin’s birth. The time she spent with them—three years—on the outskirts of Vegas. Then, Brent and Cole finding her and bringing her back to New York.

  And then…Jesus…her and Zane’s kidnapping.

  What had happened to her…

  Brent and Cole rescuing her. Her recovery back to sanity. Brent and Cole leaving for a mission. And dying.

  Her heart with them.

  How she and Grigori had first started seeing one another privately. The friendship. The bond. Their connection.

  Someone from Brent, Cole, Zane, and Stash’s past resurfaced…which I found out I had been used as a pawn by this individual with four stories I had written. And the ‘numbness’—like my feet—that she had experienced when Grigori left her to protect his brothers and sister. But he had come back…and everything had been all right again, the numbness gone.

  She told me of the harm my articles had caused revealing Grigori. I didn’t say anything as she spoke factually, almost as if she didn’t want to hurt my feelings but sensed it needed to be said. It was a part of her life’s story. Grigori being hurt in Russia when he left to take care of some business. And the utter fear that had consumed her when no one told her anything.

  “I thought I had lost him,” her voice cracked. “I…” She sucked in a sharp breath. “But he was fine. He came home to New York. Everything was wonderful. Life was peaceful. A real first for me. Ever.” She cleared her throat. “Then Brent and Cole came back. From the dead. Just walked into the house as if their initials were still on the door instead of Stash, Zane, and mine. And everything went to shit,” a rapid head shake, “and I didn’t know what to do. So, I did the only logical thing I could. I began seeing them again, the fathers of my children. The men I had loved with all of my heart, ending my time with Grigori the day they came back.” Her voice cracked. “Shit. It was all fucking shit.”

  I stayed silent—more than a little shocked that she was sharing all this, but understanding it nonetheless—while she continued, her words getting more heated as she went. “It’s stupid because I see them almost every day at work, but I miss all of my friends over there. All that’s there is some grass and concrete—and maybe a gate or two—between this house and that one, but it feels like so much more. Like the big fucking divide. Them vs. Us. When, before Cole and Brent came back, we all got along great, but instead, we can’t even have fucking dinner together without fighting and people leaving. Instead of that being my haven, it’s now off limits to me.”

  She shook her head. “I love Grigori. I do. But before, when we all lived together in Vegas, none of them ever spoke Russian. And now, they do it all the time. I can’t understand them. At all. It’s like watching one of those foreign films without the subtitles. If I weren’t as good at reading people as I am, then I probably wouldn’t understand a damn thing.” She shook her head, glancing at me. “I have no clue how you do it.” Her expression turned a little sheepish. “I may need some help, so I wouldn’t mind sharing my books with you if you would help me. I would ask Grigori, but I don’t want him…” She trailed off, but I got it. She wasn’t the weak sort, and she didn’t want him to think she was.

  I nodded. “Yeah. I’d actually like that.”

  Her gaze went a little freaky…and God, I realized that she was reading me…and she nodded once. “Thank you.” She sucked in a big breath and glanced back out the window. “And then, there was the time I spent dating Brent and Cole, do you know what I realized?” I shook my head, and she stated, “That Cole, the man I thought I had loved—which I had loved, seriously didn’t know a damn thing about me. He may have at one point, but he doesn’t get me now. Whether it was the fact he’s changed or I have, we just didn’t work together anymore.” She rested her hands on the windowpane, staring blindly out the window. “But Brent…Brent was…is…a different story. He and I have so much history together. And, to tell you the fucking truth of the matter, it still bothers me knowing he’s out there fucking someone else. Liar or not. He and I have the same roots.”

  She swung an arm behind her, gesturing blindly at the room. “This. All of this pompous shit, I don’t give a fuck about. Yes, I grew up with money, but to tell you the truth, I’ve always hated it.” She pointed across the way. “And Brent still does. Like me. He may own a mansion, but he did so because he and his best friends wanted to live together and a pretentious house was needed for their business.” She sucked in a breath. “But Grigori…he’s rich…very, filthy fucking rich. Not as rich as Daniil.” She glanced at me. “Daniil’s damn near a billionaire, by the way.” I blinked, my head swimming at that little bomb, but she kept on. “And he didn’t tell me he was rich until recently. And the fact that he likes it. Likes having the best of everything.” She shook her head, stating, “His fucking showerhead and faucets are gold! Real fucking solid gold! Who the hell needs that?”

  She growled a little, her hands fisting on the windowpane. “I should have known. I should have read it. But I didn’t. Somehow, that fucking little detail skipped me.” She growled again. “And now, I want a fucking baby.”

  I didn’t think she should be doing anything so soon because she was so damn confused, and there was a part in her rant that had surprised me, so I asked, clarifying, “You picked Grigori, right?”

  She nodded.

  “So why does it bother you that Brent’s having sex with someone else?”

  Her lips pursed, but she stated quietly, “Feelings and emotions just don’t disappear when you’ve known someone as long as he and I have known each other.”

  Uh-oh. “Do you still love him?”

  She nodded slowly. “I probably always will.”

  My own lips pursed. “Does Grigori know this?”

  Ember snorted, stating heatedly, “Let me tell you something about Grigori. He loved someone when he was young and lost him. The great love of his life died right in front of him with a horrible, painful death. And Grigori’s heart went with him.
” She sounded fucking pissed. “So, to answer your question, Grigori’s not stupid. He knows that it will take some time for me to be over Brent completely. But, I knew who I wanted to be with. In the time Brent and Cole were ‘dead,’ I picked Grigori. And when they came back, despite all that I would have to give up and have to put up with now, I still picked Grigori.”

  She thumped the glass, her voice getting a little shrill the faster she spoke, words just spewing out of her. “But who the fuck would he pick if his first love came back from the dead?” She shook her head rapidly. “I sure as fuck don’t think it would be me.” Her voice cracked, stating, “Jesus, I want to have his fucking baby, and anytime I even think about talking to him about it, it’s like he knows and he,” her hand motioned all over her face, “breaks out in a sweat and he looks like he’s going to puke. He doesn’t want to have kids with me. Do you,” she stopped mid-rant, sucking in a breath and glancing at me, “do you think it’s because it’s me…and not him? Or just that he doesn’t want kids? I know I’m a little fucking weird, but I’m not that bad. He’s just as screwed up as I am.”

  You’ve got that right. I was kind of—okay, I was—wishing I hadn’t come in here at all since she was asking me this. I cleared my throat delicately but did what I did best, “Ember, I’d like to have a ‘come to Jesus talk’ with you. It’ll be blunt and to the point because, honestly, that’s how I do this best. Think you can handle it? The truth of the matter?”

  Her eyes darted from each of my eyes, and her mouth thinned, but she nodded.

  “Good,” I pointed at her, “and just hear me out without screaming or hitting me.” Her eyebrows puckered, but she nodded, so I stated bluntly, “Like I said, I’m a good listener. That makes me a great reporter. And I have the inside scoop that you seem to be missing.”

  I paused, then stated slowly, “You’ve had a shit ton happen in your life. It’s been constant hell without much peace. But, almost all of your adult life, you know what I heard as your constant? Your rock?” I paused for a moment. “Grigori. That’s who. I get that you still love Brent, and I understand why you don’t love Cole anymore, since in reality…in the real world…you only knew him for a very short period of time. And I understand you miss everyone over there…” I pointed at the window in the direction of her old house, “…because they were the loving, caring family you never had. Give it time for everyone to adjust and you’ll have them again.