Eclipsed by Midnight (4 page)

Chapter 3

“A mother’s love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.”

~Agatha Christie

Sasha

Waking up in a tangle of limbs, I momentarily forget the evening’s plans as love and contentedness drug me. Wishing Lil and I could stay like this forever, I nuzzle into his chest as the subtle rise and fall of his soft skin threatens to lull me back under. This must be what heaven is like. The only thing that might make this better would be the soft lapping of ocean waves as the moonlight kisses our naked skin. Just like our time back in Belize.

My acute hearing draws me from the calm of Etienne’s heartbeat as it picks up on distant, familiar murmurings that remind me of the simpler time of their youth—nightlights, footie jammies, ghost stories, and all. They thought I couldn’t hear them late at night, chatting away or plotting something, but I always could. However, butting in on their sacred twin time wasn’t an option. Those late night whisperings were crucial for their bond as siblings.

“You shouldn’t eavesdrop on them,” Etienne breathes, followed by a stifled yawn as he comes to.

“I can’t help it. They are up and chatting about all the possibilities. Since I can’t read minds…” This super vamp hearing would be a crime to waste.

“Your mind—does it ever rest?” He chuckles as his hand glides down my hip and comes around to caress my ass.

“Does your sexual need?”

“Fair enough,” he growls excitedly, moving to kiss my shoulder.

“Easy there; that will have to wait. We slept late and are due at the depot in thirty.”

“I happen to know the boss. Our tardiness can be excused,” he purrs, triggering fire to spread down my thighs.

The rising of my sons’ worried voices quells it in an instant, though. Lil lets out a frustrated and long sigh before falling back onto the bed, his heavy frame hitting with a muffled thud to magnify the moment.

“Welcome to parenthood.” I snort and jump out of bed, dressing quickly.

“I didn’t say anything,” Etienne mumbles from under the pillows he has now buried himself in.

“Babe, really?”

A muffled grunt answers out, and I can’t help but smile as I head upstairs. Sensing the boys in the living room, I head that way, slowing my approaching feet in an attempt to gather more facts before I barge in. What good parent doesn’t eavesdrop or spy on their kids?

“Hey, guys,” I announce my arrival before entering and making my way to curl up on the couch next to Ethan. Funny, this is the same couch I sat on when I found out that I wasn’t who I thought I was.

They mirror similar greetings before falling into awkward silence. The fireplace crackles in the background as Aiden suddenly seems transfixed by it, unable to look me in the eyes or acknowledge me in any fashion. Sitting there, absorbing their energies, I am startled to find a bit of darkness in Aiden. It is faint, but it is there. Quickly dismissing the rabbit hole my mind was sure to venture down, I take a detour and shake the suspicion.

“I’m sorry, boys.” Ethan blows out a hard breath and Aiden continues to ignore me. Yeah, that probably wasn’t the best start to this.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Ethan begins, my blow up last night proving to be all we needed between the two of us to get back on equal footing.

“I wanted to protect you from all of this; it is a very dangerous world.”

“I get that, but why not tell us we were going to be like you?”

“We didn’t think you would turn. No one has ever heard of a quarter-breed turning. We planned on just keeping a watchful eye and letting you two live your human lives.”

“Don’t you think that we would have noticed the fact that you don’t age? That you still sleep all day and are up all night even though you quit your old job?”

“I suppose I did. I hadn’t thought of any good excuses for those things yet, but I was working on it.” And in truth, I knew I’d have to eventually fake my own death or something and leave them be entirely. Well, I’d still spy on them from afar to insure their safety.

“How did you really know something was wrong?” Aiden finally pins me with a skin-crawling glare. Damn, that darkness he is carrying is latching on a bit tight.

“I told you, Ang—”

“No, that’s not what I meant. How did you know?” Aiden’s hands grip the armrest as he steadies his anger.

“I sensed it when she called.” What is he playing at?

“We are having a hard time believing any of this, Mom.” Ethan sighs and crosses his legs, leaning back further into the sofa.

“No one expects you to fully believe right now. I just ask that you trust us.” Shit, I occasionally have my moments where I think I am going to wake up and find out this was all a dream.

“Trust you? You’ve been lying to us about what you really are for most of our lives!” Aiden’s rage licks the air, tasting bitter and black.

“Aiden! You know damn well the whys and the reason. That’s been the only thing I’ve fibbed about.”

“No, it’s not,” Ethan says.

“What are you talking about?” Shock taints my words as I gasp. I’ve been as honest as I can about everything else.

“Being away on vacation all summer out of cell phone range? Where were you really?” Aiden’s voice rises in questioning, doubting way more than my whereabouts a few months ago.

“I don’t want to talk about that.” That didn’t need to be on the table right now—no way. I don’t want to relive that shit, especially with them.

“We could, as you say, sense something was off. The whole thing reeks.” Aiden snorts, crossing his jean-covered legs. Who is this kid?

“I’ve spent months learning how to overcome the damage that time frame caused me. I don’t want to go over that right now,” I warn, the whole situation tipping me to my breaking point. My PTSD is alive and well. It never left the building; I’ve simply learned to temper the bitch.

“Well, I—” His bratty, defiant tone is all that it takes for me to cut him off.

“Enough!” I yell and jump to my feet, the earth bucking a simple roll underfoot at the burst of emotion. “Gabriel will be picking you up and bringing you to the depot in ten minutes. We will see you there. Not another fucking word about any of it either!” Sick of their doubt, accusations and of all the drama—period, I hit the door as Etienne emerges from the basement.

“Anu, où vas-tu?” he asks as he assesses my state while rolling up the sleeves of his cold-weather workout shirt. Always prodding—this one.

“I just—I just can’t. The rage… it’s building.” I begin to shudder as my control struggles.

“I will see that they get there. Go, mon amour.”

See, look how well our communication is doing at the moment. I actually verbalized a need, and he didn’t argue or attempt to flex unnecessary control.

Without another word, I offer a small smile and head out to allow myself to be swallowed up by the night, rushing toward the one safe place that I can explode should it come to that. As the chilled wind whips and bites, I push on, fueled by the pain attacking my senses. The guys are going to get one helluva sparring partner tonight. I hope they are ready. Images of my sons looking at me as if I am a monster, a liar, and a stranger threaten me. Pushing their hold away, I focus on body slamming a few males who rival trees in their size and girth.
Yes, that will feel good, just get there and work on that, Sasha.
Repeating those words over and over is the only way I am able to stay on path. Thank goddess Gabriel came with us this trip, he is always good for a throw down. And beings that his lady-whatever had to stay in France, it most definitely will be an aggression-filled one on both of our parts.

Coming up to the depot on foot, I blow through the front door like a hurricane with a loud, metal slamming concrete bang… wind included, and scan the room. Gabriel isn’t here yet but Tristan, Antoine, and Roman who all look up startled while lounging on the gym equipment, blasting some hip-hop, jump to their feet. Crap, that’s right. He’s picking the boys up from the house.

“For fuck’s sake, who am I going to spar with?” I outwardly groan and throw my hands up, knowing full and well none of them could stand up against even one blast from me. My skin rolls under my workout gear as my anger-fueled power attempts to leach from me.

“Nintuah, you really shouldn’t insult them like that.” Erik strolls in from the back, looking as devious as ever. Flashing up to him, I give him a squeeze, incredibly happy to see his sour puss. “Easy there, don’t want to make Marguerite jealous.” He hugs me back before holding me away by the shoulders, assessing me with concern. “Who pissed in your cornflakes?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I need to blast some shit or throw someone around.” I huff and cross my arms, more so to try to hold myself together.

“Into the pit with you then,” he chirps, something obviously up his sleeve. Casting a wary eye his way, I shuffle my sneakers to the edge and jump down.

As I gracefully stand from my landing crouch, the sound of two sets of feet quickly landing behind me catch my ear. Whipping around, I am faced with Maurizio and Niall.

“What the heck?” My surprise is evident and my mind races. I don’t remember seeing them on the plane. Then again, I wasn’t really paying attention to anyone.

“Well now, lass, I had ta meet ma grandyoungs,” Niall belts out in his jovial fashion, placing his meaty hands on his hips.

“Grandyoungs? That’s not even a thing and you can’t be here!” My anxiety kicks in to overdrive, and fear begins to take control as all the reasons for him not to be here race through my mind. For one, the boys have enough to stomach. For another, I really don’t want him mixed up in the drama here; it could get him hurt.

“Listen here, I am a Faoláin, a champion, and so are ye, and yer children. We are family.” He looks devastated, his hopes of a family reunion drastically dashed. His sudden sadness punches me in the gut.

“Look, Niall, I just can’t deal with this right now. There is so much going on with the boys,” I rush to explain, not wanting to hurt him any more than I have.

“We know. That is why we came,” Maurizio says in his Italian, no-bullshit tone.

“Ah cannae stand by idly this time.” Niall’s finality tells of his determination to be here regardless of how anyone feels on the matter.

“Then why is he here?” I flick my chin in Maurizio’s direction.

“Aye, where there be the scent of trouble, this one follows. And he missed yer dates in the ring.” Niall chuckles.

“Well, now I don’t feel like kicking ass so much.” I sigh and hug them both, my defenses slightly down, warmed by the fact that they cared to come all this way and help.

“That’s too bad, Nintuah, because you need to. You know what Koray says.” Erik stands, arms crossed, joined by Roman and now Naveed in all of his bronze glory.
Oh, shit
.

Naveed and Roman throw out their gifts and form a barrier around the pit with outstretched arms, standing still as statues. Like a live wire more than ready, the wind element sweeps up and howls with all of its might as it traps us in its whirlwind. Oddly, the ground doesn’t budge, but it begins to feel alive, fluctuating with a breath of its own. Maurizio and Niall take their fighter’s stance, ready, and unaffected by the elemental play. I can’t spar with my dad!

“I’m not in the mood, Erik. Call them off!” I yell over the whipping wind, wailing around us, trapping us within its manifested walls.

“Tsk-tsk-tsk, Nintuah. You know that’s not how this works.” Antoine and Tristan come to stand by the edge, opposite of Erik, Roman, and Naveed. “Now, tell me how you felt when the boys accused you of being a liar?” Erik attempts to bait me.

So, he wants to poke the bear, does he?

“It’s not going to work, Erik.” Why won’t he just leave me be?

“How do you feel about their lives being stolen by the genes
you
passed on to them? It’s your fault, you know,” he hisses, landing just below the belt.

Bingo
. The fucker knew just where to hit.

Red—my vision swarms with red as all that had threatened to take me down in the parlor when I sat with my sons and heard their accusations comes rushing back tenfold. Pure power courses through every fiber of my being as I subconsciously pull it from all around, allowing it to feed my lurking beast. The connection is strong and cannot be thwarted unless I lose control, which isn’t going to happen.

“Fuck, yeah!” Maurizio growls and steps deeper into guard stance. Niall hesitantly does so as well, eyes momentarily lost in thought.

“Gin-Utuey!” Erik echoes out the native battle cry.

Maurizio doesn’t even hesitate before pivoting and issuing a mean roundhouse kick that would have knocked me out had it made contact. I side step him just in time to turn and block Niall’s jab, hook, right uppercut combination. With each attempt Niall makes, I block, the hand-to-hand combat growing my power, focus, concentration, and satisfaction.

Okay, enough of this passive shit; I need to draw blood.

Centering myself, I block his next combination and as he withdraws his left hand back to center, I let go of a mean left uppercut to his exposed side, putting my full momentum into it. It barely fazes him, but it buys me a split second to throw a ball of elemental power at the oncoming Maurizio and knock him flat against the cement wall. That’s the thing with these males—they are built like brick shithouses, and it takes a powerful punch to even make a small dent. A girl sometimes has to use all the elements to throw an ass back so that she can focus on the complex hand-to-hand moves Niall is now throwing. Koray and Inessa taught me that in order to keep my strength, I had to keep my essence close and not use it freely as an extension of myself. Instead, I needed to wield the elemental power that offered itself liberally. They also like me to do these combat exercises to keep my power under control. When I don’t, it builds and becomes unpredictable. Beings that I am an emotional, delicate-flower type of girl, the physical combat also does wonders for my anger management.