CHAPTER 9

~ Mates ~

 

Morna, the Spell Weaver and Airendell vamp, shows up a few minutes later to check on Callie’s progress.  After performing her healer’s read and infusing Callie’s body with her healing energy, she tuts worriedly over her patient’s gaunt appearance and tightly strung emotional state.  The wise female is looking at Nyle and Kazar speculatively and Callie wonders if the Spell Weaver is one of those Immortals who can read minds and she knows Callie’s sad little secret.  That she is hopelessly drawn and head over heels for two gay men, who are deeply committed… to each other. 

Pathetic much?

Morna’s next words confuse Callie.  “Do you two bozos plan on mooning over this poor girl from your dark corner indefinitely, or do you plan to step up at some point and take care of your female?”

“Their female? Wait! What?”  Callie sputters.  Obviously, Callie is really confused, but the Spell Weaver’s demand of Kazar and Nyle makes her blush furiously, even though she’s not really sure why she is embarrassed.  Callie knows she is very skilled at hiding her feelings but that is no defense against mind-readers. 

Surely they do not know about my insane attachment to them? 

But before she can fret any further over that question, Morna throws Callie for another loop.  The Spell Weaver is still staring imperiously at the two enforcers when she announces; “Feeding on the blood of her mates three times a day will do more to strengthen her and the baby than feeding on my blood.”

“Mates?”  Callie bleats.  “Just exactly what does that mean?  Aren’t they already mates?  I mean with each other.”  The two males look a bit shamefaced but Morna isn’t about to let them off the hook so easily. 

“Well, duh,” Morna snaps impatiently.  “Look guys, this pregnancy is advancing much more quickly than any human/vampire pregnancy has before.  Callie’s situation is… unique.  There is simply too much at stake for me to allow you three to continue this little overly careful mating dance.  Step up.” 

The healer looks down at Callie sitting up in her bed with her hand resting protectively over her swollen belly. “And you, my dear Callie, it is time for you to put on your big girl panties and admit that you feel a connection for both of these men.”

Callie opens her mouth, and then closes it abruptly.  Looking a great deal like a fish out of water, which makes Morna chuckle.  “Doll, you know what you know.  You are not a foolish woman.” 

Morna doesn’t give Callie a chance to respond, instead she turns a hard glare on the two men standing quietly in the corner.  “And you two… there’s no good excuse for why you have dragged your feet about this.  You know how this works. You felt the same exact pull to Callie that you felt for each other.  Do the freakin’ math, boys, you are meant to be three, not two.”  Morna rolls her eyes and looks back at her patient.

“But…” Callie begins, making Morna grin knowingly.  “They are gay.  And already with someone.  Each other.  They like men.  I’m a woman.  I… Am… Not… What… They… Want,” Callie stammers out breathlessly.  Kazar smiles when he notices that Callie did not say she did not want them.  In fact, she seems to be saying, in a convoluted way, that she wants them… both of them.

Morna chuckles and her former school teacher persona rises to the fore when she demands; “Callie, are you sure about that?”

I am not what they want!  She really just said that? And she sounded so fucking forlorn too.  Damn.  Her words rip Nyle’s bold heart to shreds and he spends a moment trying to sort through everything in his mind, and then he suddenly gets angry.  Not at Callie, but at his mate and himself.  We’ve known.  We’ve both known, all along, and yet we have dragged our feet just as the First Spell Weaver accused.  The guilt he feels at that realization is not a welcome feeling, but he looks at his lover of over twenty years and realizes they both deserve to feel the weight of the shame.  They’ve allowed their mate to face an uncertain and frightening future… alone.

Kazar is watching Callie intently and after several long moments he nods.  He turns to his mate, Nyle, to meet his gaze.  In that moment, they both eagerly accept the truth.  Callie Boyd is meant to be theirs.  They are meant to be hers.  The unspoken communication of two lovers who know each other well passes between Kazar and Nyle, prompting Kazar to finally speak up.

The ancient Egyptian turns his wise old eyes upon his youngest mate and smiles in delight at what he sees.  She’s fucking perfect.  Beautiful.  Strong.  Independent.  Capable.  But she needs to know just how precious she is as well. 

“Callie, my love,” the vampire moves quickly to sit on the side of the bed, taking one of her hands into his own.  “You recognize me, don’t you?”  Callie nods.  “Today was not the first time you travelled back in time.”  Callie nods again.  “You and I met in Alexandria many centuries ago.”  He smiles warmly at the memory.  “I still recall exactly how I felt the first moment I laid eyes upon my battered little wraith standing in my garden.”

“What did you feel?” Callie croaks out from a throat that has suddenly gone very dry.  But she bravely pushes those tremulous words through suddenly numb lips.  “What?”

“A connection.  A soul deep connection that I have only felt one other time in my life.”  He quickly casts a look so full of love at the ginger biker.  Her heart clenches painfully.  “Callie, I recognized you for what you are.  My mate.”  He smiles, and looks down at their clasped hands before turning his attention to Nyle.  “When I met Nyle centuries later, in the same town where I had settled so I might be near you once you were born, it confused me.  Because I knew the moment I met Nyle that he too was my mate.  I began to wonder if I was wrong about the connection I had felt with you.  For me, it has been many long centuries since that night in the garden of a villa in Alexandria.  I began to wonder if I had romanticized what I felt for you over the long and lonely intervening centuries.” 

Kazar’s brow furrows.  “Foolishly, I decided to stay on the fringes of your life to simply watch and wait.  I believed the gods of Fate would give me a sign…”  The Egyptian chuckles dryly, the sound containing no humor at all.  “They did give me a sign, back in that garden.  But I allowed indecision to whittle away at my resolve.”  He drags a hand down his face.  “It was easy to do so because you were just a child when I met Nyle, and I knew he was mine.  Meant for me.  I began to doubt what I knew… that you were meant for me as well.”

Callie opens her mouth to protest, but Nyle joins the pair.  He sits on the other side of Callie to take her other hand.  “Easy there, lass.  It’s not that unusual for non-humans to have more than one mate at a time.  It happens from time to time, when the Fates deem it necessary.  It’s called a mating triad.  And it often happens because one of the trio is very strong and needs two strong mates.”

Callie licks her dry lips and looks into Nyle’s face and then over to Kazar.  “Really?” she croaks.  “So which one is it?  Which one of you is so strong you need a spare mate?”  She chuckles and doesn’t give them a chance to answer.  “But I think you are confused.  I’m no one.  Just a human.  How can I be Kazar’s mate?”  She turns her head to to gaze adoringly at Nyle.  She shakes her head emphatically.  “No, you must be confused.  This cannot be right.”

Kazar chuckles and shakes his head.  “No, mea Bella, you are the one who is so strong you need two mates just to keep up.”

“Sweetling,” Nyle coaxes flirtatiously, “…you are my mate as well.  Didn’t you feel that connection when we first met downstairs here at the MC?”  He grins broadly and Callie is blown away by how incredibly gorgeous the man is.

Callie gasps and sputters; “But what about… I mean… you guys are… you don’t like women that way.”  Her lovely complexion has turned bright red.

Nyle laughs robustly and leans forward to capture her lips for a kiss that should leave no doubt in her mind that he finds her appealing.  Very, very appealing.  At first, Callie is stunned by the kiss but then some long buried carnal instinct takes over, and she returns the kiss with more passion than she ever dreamed she was capable of.  The bed dips as Kazar slips in beside his mates.  He tenderly kisses Callie’s temple as Nyle feasts upon her mouth.  He moves his sensuous lips to Nyle’s ear and murmurs; “Show our beloved how much we adore her.”  He nips at Nyle’s earlobe before trailing kisses along his cheek.  Just then, Nyle turns Callie’s head, just enough, so that her lips meet Kazar’s, and the mates’ first kiss continues.  Nyle murmurs words of encouragement and love for both of his mates in a deep, sexy voice that affect Callie and Kazar equally. 

When Kazar finally pulls back to allow Callie a chance to catch her breath, she gasps in wonder at the love she sees shining in his dark eyes.  Her astonished gaze flicks over to meet Nyle’s blue eyes, and sees the same truth there.  “Oh, my, gosh,” she whispers breathlessly.  “I’ve always dismissed the notion of love at first sight, but it’s really a thing, isn’t it?”  Instantly, she seems to simply deflate before whispering; “I’m probably just dreaming, right?  Or maybe it’s another coma?”

“You are wide awake,” Kazar assures and then chuckles with a wicked gleam in his eyes.  “Love at first sight is real.  At least for our kind.”  He smiles at what he sees in her eyes.  She wants desperately to believe him, so continues his explanation.  “The various gods of fate just can’t seem to stay out of our lives.  Finding one’s fated mate and forming the mating bond with that person or persons, is what almost every Immortal spends their long lives searching for.”

“Aye, àille, you’ll be it for us.” Nyle agrees with a wicked nip on her bottom lip.

A throat clearing brings the trio crashing from their cloud to hit earth with a thud.  “Sorry,” Morna says with a smirk that plainly communicates she really isn’t all that sorry.  “I know you folks forgot the rest of us are here and all that, but Callie needs to feed.  Blood and food.  She needs to rest.  Whatever that loon Elijah did to her is making her burn even more energy.” 

Just at that moment, as though to confirm the healer’s words, the baby kicks so hard it causes a stabbing pain to rip through Callie’s back and her stomach growls loudly to complain of its empty state.  Kazar immediately removes her hand that is clutching her back and begins to tenderly rub the area in an attempt to soothe her.  Nyle had felt the kick and looks down at her swollen belly and grins.  “Aye, the wee lass is strong.  Verra, strong.”  He chuckles before adding; “And her mama is verra hungry.”

“Yes, she is,” Callie agrees breathlessly.  “That kick truly packed a wallop.” 

Kazar places his other hand over her belly and begins singing a tune in an ancient language.  The look of pure bliss on his face makes Callie hesitate to interrupt, but she must know what he is singing. 

Is it magick or just a song? 

When she asks, he smiles and replies; “It is the same lullaby my own mother sang to me and my brothers.”  He smiles shyly.  “Tis very old, Callie, just as I am very old.” 

Stilted silence fills the space between the would-be lovers for several long moments.  The Egyptian vampire looks uncertain when he asks; “You truly want to be bound to an ancient monster such as myself?”  He caresses her distended belly and smiles when the baby kicks again as though sensing his nearness.  “Can you allow me to love and nurture you and this baby?”

Callie can plainly see that Kazar wants to love the child as much as he wants to love Nyle or herself.  “Of course, I want you.  Of course, I want you to love and nurture my child.”  Callie smiles.  “She’ll be like you, at least part-way.  I’ve been told hybrids have more vampire characteristics than human ones.” 

Callie cups Kazar’s face with one hand, and places the other on Nyle’s cheek.  “She needs you both.  I need you both.”

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Morna and Morrígan slip out into the hallway, and Morna can see the goddess wants a private word, so she evokes a hiding spell so that no one can see or hear what goes on inside.  “You know, don’t you Madame Spell Weaver?”

Morna chuckles.  “We’ve never stood on formalities before, Goddess.”  Morrígan smiles wryly but doesn’t reply.  “But, yes, I know.”

“Those Tyrants of yours do not miss much, do they?”

“No, they do not,” a fierce light fires Morna’s eyes.  “Don’t get any ideas about trying to use my girls…”

“Rest easy, Morna.  Your entire family, but especially the Tyrants, have powerful protectors.”

Morna snorts.  “Yeah, until my girls decide not to play ball because some egotistical god wants to know things he shouldn’t know.”

“True enough,” Morrígan concedes.  “But you are raising your kids to be bad-asses in their own right, and they have you and Lucian protecting them…” she chuckles “… and their what?  Thirteen siblings?  How many cousins?”  Morrígan laughs and puts her hands on her hips.  “I’m not a seer, but I can sure as hell see the writing on the wall.  You’ve built Airendell into a powerhouse among the immortal realms, and when this whole shit-show implodes, Airendell will be there to help put the pieces back together.”

“So they tell us,” a male voice says from outside of the spell.

Morna chuckles and drops the spell that shielded them from everyone except her fully bonded other half.  “Luca!”  She greets her mate with a passionate kiss.  “You finished early, my love.”

The smile on Lucian Michael’s handsome face falters for a moment.  “She died before I could get to the hospital in Kansas.  The healer waited too long to call me in.”  Morna snuggles up to her mate, sharing what comfort she can.  Morrígan knows it must be painful for a dedicated healer like Lucian to lose a patient.  He shrugs and says; “It happens.”  But the gesture doesn’t fool either woman and Morrígan turns to walk away and give them some privacy.  But Luca calls out to her.

“Irish Raven, tell those who pull your strings we are on the side of preserving life and order.  My family and our realm will always be firmly on this side.”  Morrígan nods. “But gods or not, your masters better never get any ideas about using our girls as their own private window into the future.  Our children will never be used that way.”

Morrígan knows that Lucian is referring to the ancient practice of capturing seers and confining them in a magickal prison, of a sort, to intensify their ability to predict the future by blocking outside distractions.  “First Warrior of Airendell, you have my solemn vow that I would never allow such an atrocity to befall your girls or any seer.  Ever.”

“Good enough,” he says with a warm smile.

Surprisingly, Morrígan returns the smile.  “Good enough.”