by Sandra Hill
“Now.” Thank you, God! All he’d needed was her consent. He did a mental high five, not daring to do it in actuality.
“Whaaat?” she squealed as he wrapped his arms around her, closed his eyes, and concentrated. “Let me go. Right now. I mean it. Ooooh!”
In the blink of an eye, they stood in the back courtyard of Vikar’s run-down castle. As always, it was in the midst of some renovation project or other. Today, there were air-conditioning trucks about the place.
“Honey, we’re home,” he said, trying for a levity he did not feel.
She blinked with confusion. And hit him.
He still held her tightly to him. “Did I just feel our baby move?” he asked with wonder.
“Babies don’t move at two months, you idiot. I’m trying to get my other hand free.”
He released her and she stared around her, mouth agape. “A freakin’ castle! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!”
“Shh!” he cautioned. “Michael does not like us to use the Lord’s name in vain. Freakin’ is okay . . . well, not okay, but not as bad as oh God!”
“Bullshit!” she said, and shoved him in the chest, glaring when he remained stationary, probably hoping he would land on his arse. “You freakin’ moved me from Louisiana to freakin’ Pennsylvania in”—she glanced at her wristwatch—“five freakin’ minutes.”
“I would have teletransported us faster, but I didn’t want you to get motion sickness. I have heard that pregnant women have sensitive stomachs. Would you like me to get you a ginger ale? I read on the computer about that beverage settling—”
“I swear, if you weren’t already dead, I would kill you.”
“Ahem!” he heard behind him.
To his chagrin, not only was Vikar standing there with his wife, Alex, a child in each of their arms, but his other five brothers were there, as well, including Trond and his wife, Nicole, in military camouflage uniforms.
And they were all grinning at him.
Tsking with disgust, Alex handed her child, the one dressed in pink, to Vikar, who now juggled two squirming bodies. Alex stepped forward with both arms spread wide toward Gabrielle. “Welcome, Gabrielle. Ivak has told us so much about you.”
That was a lie, but he wasn’t about to correct his sister by marriage.
Especially when Gabrielle burst out in tears.
“Shame on you, Ivak,” Alex said, wrapping her arms around Gabrielle and leading her toward the castle. Over her shoulder, Alex asked, “What did you do to make her cry?”
“Me? I did nothing.”
In the middle of a sob, Gabrielle broke free from Alex’s embrace and accused him, “You made me pregnant.”
Since he hadn’t told anyone but Michael, there was a communal gasp from everyone. Then his brothers burst out laughing.
Trond summed the situation up best. “You are in such trouble, Ivak!”
Twenty-Six
Welcome to Oz . . . uh, Transylvania, Dorothy . . .
Gabrielle felt like Dorothy, except this was not the Emerald City and she wasn’t wearing any ruby slippers. In fact, she was wearing no shoes.
But the Scarecrow was here, as in man with no brain, and she was thinking about doing him some harm. Where was a match when she needed it? In fact, where was the damn Scarecrow? Ivak had been avoiding her ever since they’d arrived an hour ago. Maybe he was the lion instead . . . the Cowardly Lion.
No, he was probably off with his brothers smoking congratulatory cigars and preening over his virility. Or maybe he was off on a cloud speaking to an archangel.
Aaarrgh! Her brain was splintering apart.
“Did you say something?” Alex, Ivak’s sister-in-law, asked. They were up on the second floor of a bleepin’ castle. A run-down, in the process of being renovated, not-so-pretty castle, but a castle nonetheless. Alex had brought her up to her bedroom to talk while her two toddlers were taking a nap in an adjoining room. Another sister-in-law, Nicole, was there, too.
“I was just muttering.”
“You’ll do a lot of that with the Sigurdsson men,” Nicole said.
I’m not sure I’ll be “with” Ivak.
“They take arrogance to an art form,” Nicole continued.
That was for sure.
“You seem to be in shock.” Alex sat down next to her. “Well, we’re in shock, too. Pregnant? You’re really pregnant?”
Gabrielle nodded.
Alex and Nicole exchanged astonished looks.
“We thought it was impossible,” Alex said. “It’s never happened before.”
“Ivak thought it was impossible, too. In fact, he accused me of being with another man.”
Instead of being outraged on her behalf, Nicole nodded and sat down on Gabrielle’s other side on the bed. “You have to understand that it’s been drummed into us that vangels are sterile.”
“You two seem so normal.”
Alex and Nicole both laughed.
“I didn’t mean to insult you, but do you really believe all this vangel/demon nonsense?”
“How can we not? How can you not after everything you’ve seen, poor girl?” Alex put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed.
Ivak had briefly explained what had happened to Gabrielle and how she’d been rescued to his family and the other fangy people standing about the kitchen, including a woman named Lizzie Borden, of all things, who was cooking dinner.
In the short time she’d been here, she’d learned more astounding facts about the vangels. Apparently, many of them held jobs out in the regular world. Doctor, lawyer, prison chaplain, computer guru, she already knew about, but there were also pilots, artists, landscapers, stone masons, blacksmiths, bus drivers, architects, engineers, chemists, whatever. And all of them were of Norse descent, except Alex, a former magazine writer of some note, and Nicole, who was in Navy WEALS, like her SEAL husband, Trond.
“Did you become vampire angels when you married your husbands?” she asked the two women.
“Good heavens, no. I was the first human ever permitted to marry any of the VIK, and Vikar was the only vangel who’d ever been permitted to marry a human,” Alex said.
“I don’t understand. What happens when you get old and your husband doesn’t?”
“That’s the reason why vangels are never supposed to marry humans. But Michael made exceptions for me and Alex,” Nicole explained. “We agreed to certain conditions when we married vangels. We live as long as our husbands. When they die, we die.”
Gabrielle frowned, still not understanding.
“If Trond should die tomorrow, I would, too,” Nicole elaborated. “But if he lives a thousand more years, I would, too.
“And stay the same age,” Nicole added. “That is one of the pluses. We . . . Alex and I . . . made the choice because we love our husbands.”
“Tell me something, Gabrielle,” Alex said, “do you know if your child is mortal?”
“Ivak said it would be. It’s a boy, by the way.” For some reason, she accepted that Ivak knew what he was talking about in that regard.
“Then he will be like my two ‘adopted’ children. They will age, but I will not.”
It was all too much for Gabrielle to comprehend.
“C’mon, honey, I’ll show you to a guest room where you can rest. I can see how tired you are.” This from Nicole, who took her to a guest room, one of more than twenty-five bedrooms in this bleepin’ castle, while Alex went off to care for her little ones who were waking up. The room was nice, but spare, with only a bed with a heavy coverlet that matched the drapes.
“Have you ever met . . . ?” Gabrielle glanced upward.
“Michael?” Nicole guessed. “Oh yeah!”
“And?”
“I can’t describe him. You’ll never forget the experience, though.”
After Nicole left, Gabrielle lay down on top of the bed. So many thoughts and questions riddled her brain that she never expected to sleep. But she did, and when she awakened abruptly, she at first didn’t rea
lize what had disturbed her sleep.
It was dusk outside, so she must have slept for hours, and there was a fur-lined cashmere throw placed carefully over her. Ivak? she wondered.
But then she heard the sound that had awakened her. Wings fluttering. Above the castle. And the most delicious scent, like a mixture of cloves and incense. The air around her shimmered. When Gabrielle sat up, she felt the oddest sense of peace.
And she realized, Michael is here.
An archangel’s work is never done . . .
Ivak was worried.
He’d gone up to check on Gabrielle hours ago, but she was still sleeping. Alex had assured him that pregnant women needed more sleep, but he feared something might be wrong.
For a brief, male-inspired moment of insanity, he’d contemplated lying down beside her, but then he chose to cover her with a soft throw instead. But before he covered her, he stared down at her flat stomach under her denims and tried to imagine his baby there.
Ivak had had children before. Long ago. Out of wedlock. To his shame, he did not even recall their names, or how many there had been. That’s how unimportant fatherhood had been to him then. Now, he felt as if his heart would break if he could not be a father to this child, which was an impossibility, of course. He was a vangel, his son was human.
What a mess! And it was all due to Ivak’s continuing sin. Lust.
All too soon, Michael arrived. When Ivak went outside with his brothers to watch for the archangel, he noticed they had donned message T-shirts to lighten his spirits. The lackwits!
Harek’s shirt said, “Have You Kissed a Geek Today?” while the others proclaimed, “Angels Rule,” “Kiss My Wing,” “Have Wings, Will Travel,” “Do Wings Make My Butt Look Fat?” and “Fangs for the Memories.”
Michael arched a brow on first seeing them, but then when he walked by them, Ivak noticed a message on the back of his celestial robe, “Heaven Is Just One Sin Away.”
Michael with a sense of humor? It boggled the mind. He and his brothers exchanged questioning glances. Almost immediately the archangel’s robe message disappeared. Maybe they’d imagined it.
Without even turning around, Michael called over his shoulder, “Ivak! In the library!”
His brothers gave him looks of sympathy. They’d all been in similar positions.
Instead of sitting behind the desk, Michael sat in one of the wingback chairs flanking the fireplace and indicated with a wave of his hand that Ivak should take the other.
“I’ve investigated the pregnancy issue, and it appears it was my mistake.”
Whoa! That was some concession.
“Do you think I am so proud I cannot admit my mistakes?”
Ivak had forgotten that the archangel could read minds. “Am I the only . . . mistake?”
“With regard to sterility, you are. And, Ivak, a baby is never a mistake. Babies are gifts from God, a reminder that He still has faith in mankind.”
“Even vangels?” Even me?
“Especially vangels.”
“Truth to tell, I do consider my son a gift, but I don’t see what kind of role I can play in his life. How can I be a father to a child who will grow older than my human form at some point?”
Michael shrugged. “It is exactly what Vikar and Alex face with their children.”
Ivak hadn’t thought about that. “What can I do?” he asked.
“What do you want to do?”
“I love Gabrielle. If I could be with her and my baby, even if I had to drop out of their lives when the child reached a certain age . . . well, I would consider myself blessed.”
Michael shook his head. “There are only two choices. Either you walk away now and have nothing whatsoever to do with Gabrielle and your son, ever, or you marry Gabrielle under the same conditions as Alex and Nicole. You and Gabrielle would both watch your son age.” He paused and added, “Thus sayeth the Lord!”
Ivak gasped. He could never ask Gabrielle to do that.
“I will go into the chapel to pray on this problem while you go to fetch your woman.”
Like a dog? I don’t think so!
“And on your way, try not to impregnate any more women,” Michael advised.
Ivak raised an eyebrow. More archangel humor? Do wonders never cease?
“The wonder is that you’ve lived a thousand years and are still dumb as dirt.”
Sarcasm, too. He and Gabrielle would get along great.
“Just for the record, and I will chisel it in stone like the Ten Commandments if that’s what it takes to get through to you thickheaded Vikings. No More Women! And absolutely, positively, no more babies! Are we clear on that point?”
“Indelibly,” Ivak answered, and he wasn’t being sarcastic.
Shaking his head with disgust, Michael left.
Ivak was halfway up the wide staircase when he saw Gabrielle coming down. At his urging, they sat down together on one of the steps. He took her hand in both of his and held it on his lap, saying nothing. She leaned against his shoulder, also saying nothing.
It was a perfect moment, which could not last.
“I was given two choices,” he said then. He explained what Michael had told him.
Gabrielle nodded. “Alex and Nicole explained some of this to me.”
“I love you, Gabrielle.” He raised her hand and kissed the fingertips. “I wouldn’t ask you to make such a sacrifice.”
She turned on the step to face him directly. “Which of those would you consider a sacrifice for me?”
He blinked. It was obvious, wasn’t it?
Michael stood before them then and Gabrielle made a small, whimpering sound at first witnessing the archangel’s imposing presence. There was a glow about the archangel, like a full-body halo.
“Come,” Michael said, taking Gabrielle’s hand in his.
Ivak rushed to catch up with the two of them as they walked through the castle and into the back courtyard. There was a hushed atmosphere throughout the castle as they passed by vangels with their heads bowed. When they got to the gazebo, they all sat down. Michael was still holding Gabrielle’s hand.
“How is your brother doing?” Michael asked Gabrielle.
Her eyes widened with surprise. “He’s all right now.”
“Your brother will do great things. He needed this suffering to make him the man he will be.”
Gabrielle nodded, drinking in everything Michael said.
“Do you love this sorry soul?” Michael asked her.
There was no doubt which sorry soul he meant, and Gabrielle looked at Ivak with a small smile. “Unfortunately, yes.”
Ivak wasn’t too happy about the “unfortunately” but he was heartened by the “yes.”
“Do you choose to marry him?”
“He never asked me.”
Michael gave Ivak a disapproving scowl.
“I never thought I would be rewarded for my sin.” And, yes, marriage to Gabrielle would be a reward.
“Ivak! You were punished for lust. Not love,” Michael said to Ivak, then turned to Gabrielle. “He is a slow learner.”
Ivak couldn’t be concerned about that insult at the moment. “Gabrielle, I would like nothing better than to marry you and raise our son together.” He got down on one knee before her. “But I could never ask you to outlive what would be your only child.”
“Don’t you think that should be my choice?” She ran a hand lovingly over his face and hair. “I had time to think while lying on that bed up there.” She pointed to the upper region of the castle. “And I decided that the greatest sacrifice would be not having you in my life.” She was weeping softly now.
He pulled her to her feet, hugging her warmly.
“You’ll marry me?” he murmured against her ear.
“Try and stop me,” she sobbed.
A sudden joy filled Ivak, like the blood in his veins had turned molten and was rushing through his body spreading warmth. The bumps on his shoulders felt as if they were unfurling. Looking ov
er Gabrielle’s shoulder, he mouthed to Michael, Thank you.
Michael nodded and glanced upward, saying, “Well, my work is done,” and disappeared.
Epilogue
Even vampires can have happy endings . . .
A Christmas wedding was held in mid-December at Our Lady of the Bayou Church in Houma, Louisiana. The ceremony was conducted by a visiting priest. It was Michael the Archangel, of course, in ministerial garb, his wings out of sight.
No one knew who Michael was, but Tante Lulu suspected. She kept asking him if he knew St. Jude.
Ivak and Gabrielle would have liked to wed at the Transylvania castle, but they wouldn’t have been able to invite guests where so many young vangels lived, unable to control their fangs. Besides, Tante Lulu claimed that she deserved to host the festivities. Who could argue with that?
Vikar was Ivak’s best man, and his groomsmen were his other five brothers, along with a young vangel named Armod who had a strange obsession with Michael Jackson, and Leroy, who had been accepted to the University of Tennessee, where he intended to get a graduate degree in social work.
Gabrielle’s matron of honor was Charmaine, and her bridesmaids were Alex and Nicole. Tante Lulu gave her away.
Among the guests were Warden Benton, who acted like Ivak’s best friend, and the huge LeDeux clan.
The Swamp Rats played at the reception held at the Swamp Tavern, which was closed for the day. The highlight of the festivities was when the band launched into “Chain of Fools” and all seven Sigurdsson brothers did the Michael dance. Second best was Gabrielle and the LeDeux women teaching Alex and Nicole how to doo-wop.
Gabrielle had refused to marry Ivak until he renovated the kitchen, a bathroom, and one bedroom at Heaven’s End where they intended to live while renovations were going on. Ivak would continue as an Angola chaplain for the time being, and Gabrielle had decided to continue with Second Chances.
At a bride and groom shower held weeks ago by Tante Lulu, the old lady had given Ivak a hope chest filled with monogrammed sheets and dish towels, not to mention an exquisite crocheted quilt. Then she had “flocked the bride,” an old Cajun tradition where the women of the village gave the bride live chickens so that she could be self-sufficient in the marriage. That meant there were laying hens at Heaven’s End. Ivak swore he was going to kill the rooster if it kept crowing at five a.m.
