only for Shea, but Raven and Alexandria and Jaxon—all of them as well as our families too. Gregori and Francesca take care of the Carpathian genealogy necessary for the research into the deaths of our children."
"And this Eileen found her through the genealogy site Shea was working on?" Mikhail prompted.
Jacques nodded, all too aware of Mikhail's continuing censure. "Eileen was born in Ireland, but she happened to be living in the States. I asked Aidan to look into her discreetly. She owns a bookstore in San Francisco and spends a great deal of her time looking up her family history in the library, using their computers."
"So at least this woman is far away." Even as he said it, Mikhail scowled, his dark brows coming together and thunder rolling over his face—cracking in the skies. He read the truth on Jacques's face. "She's here?"
"She will be at the inn this evening. Eileen asked Shea what she would be doing for Christmas, and Shea thought it was natural for a human to be cooking food for the children and having a Christmas party, so she mentioned it."
Mikhail watched Jacques roll a wooden pin over the dough to flatten it. "I like nothing about this party. I should have told Raven no. It has occurred to me many times lately that sooner or later our enemies will strike at our women and children. What better time than now with so many of us gathered in one place?"
"Raven was right, Mikhail. After the last attempt on your life, we all needed something to lighten our spirits. I will admit I have been more uneasy than usual, but I suspect it is because Shea is so close to giving birth."
"Maybe," Mikhail said. "Maybe."
"I do not think our enemies will be able to rally this quickly to launch another concentrated attack on us, Mikhail, but of course we will take every precaution." Jacques rolled the dough out with more enthusiasm than expertise and threw a handful of flour over it, sending another cloud of white particles into the air.
Mikhail couldn't pull his fascinated gaze away from the mess his brother seemed to be making. "Where's Shea now?" He lowered his voice another notch.
"She had better be lying down. She is not feeling very well."
"It is possible the vampires cannot rally, but the society working against us has always found us here in the mountains. They have spies, and it is entirely possibly they have heard of this gathering. One or more of the locals has to be in their pay. And of course, we cannot ever forget that the dark mage is still alive."
Jacques's black eyes glittered with menace, ice cold and dangerous, reminding Mikhail that even with Shea to steady him, Jacques was a lethal and frightening man. The white flour dusting his face and on the tips of his lashes did nothing to soften the threat emanating from him. "We should begin regular sweeps through the town and surrounding areas and see what we can pick up."
Mikhail inhaled sharply, and immediately began to cough as the flour particles entered his lungs. He liked most of the townspeople, had a genuine friendship with a few, and the idea of continually invading their privacy was repugnant to him, even though he knew it was necessary.
Jacques scowled at him. "I can handle it myself."
"You know as well as I do that our enemies have been able to find a way to keep us from detecting them. Continual scanning or taking blood deliberately to monitor them will only rob our neighbors of the privacy they are entitled to. We would not want such a deliberate invasion of our privacy." It was an old discussion, but one he always made to remind himself of right and wrong.
"We have more than a right, we have a duty to protect our women and children, Mikhail, and I shouldn't have to tell you that. You nearly lost Raven three times now."
Mikhail tamped down his own rising beast. It would do no good to turn a useful discussion into an argument. Jacques had a valid point—as did Mikhail, and in the end, they would do what they had to do to protect their
"And this Eileen found her through the genealogy site Shea was working on?" Mikhail prompted.
Jacques nodded, all too aware of Mikhail's continuing censure. "Eileen was born in Ireland, but she happened to be living in the States. I asked Aidan to look into her discreetly. She owns a bookstore in San Francisco and spends a great deal of her time looking up her family history in the library, using their computers."
"So at least this woman is far away." Even as he said it, Mikhail scowled, his dark brows coming together and thunder rolling over his face—cracking in the skies. He read the truth on Jacques's face. "She's here?"
"She will be at the inn this evening. Eileen asked Shea what she would be doing for Christmas, and Shea thought it was natural for a human to be cooking food for the children and having a Christmas party, so she mentioned it."
Mikhail watched Jacques roll a wooden pin over the dough to flatten it. "I like nothing about this party. I should have told Raven no. It has occurred to me many times lately that sooner or later our enemies will strike at our women and children. What better time than now with so many of us gathered in one place?"
"Raven was right, Mikhail. After the last attempt on your life, we all needed something to lighten our spirits. I will admit I have been more uneasy than usual, but I suspect it is because Shea is so close to giving birth."
"Maybe," Mikhail said. "Maybe."
"I do not think our enemies will be able to rally this quickly to launch another concentrated attack on us, Mikhail, but of course we will take every precaution." Jacques rolled the dough out with more enthusiasm than expertise and threw a handful of flour over it, sending another cloud of white particles into the air.
Mikhail couldn't pull his fascinated gaze away from the mess his brother seemed to be making. "Where's Shea now?" He lowered his voice another notch.
"She had better be lying down. She is not feeling very well."
"It is possible the vampires cannot rally, but the society working against us has always found us here in the mountains. They have spies, and it is entirely possibly they have heard of this gathering. One or more of the locals has to be in their pay. And of course, we cannot ever forget that the dark mage is still alive."
Jacques's black eyes glittered with menace, ice cold and dangerous, reminding Mikhail that even with Shea to steady him, Jacques was a lethal and frightening man. The white flour dusting his face and on the tips of his lashes did nothing to soften the threat emanating from him. "We should begin regular sweeps through the town and surrounding areas and see what we can pick up."
Mikhail inhaled sharply, and immediately began to cough as the flour particles entered his lungs. He liked most of the townspeople, had a genuine friendship with a few, and the idea of continually invading their privacy was repugnant to him, even though he knew it was necessary.
Jacques scowled at him. "I can handle it myself."
"You know as well as I do that our enemies have been able to find a way to keep us from detecting them. Continual scanning or taking blood deliberately to monitor them will only rob our neighbors of the privacy they are entitled to. We would not want such a deliberate invasion of our privacy." It was an old discussion, but one he always made to remind himself of right and wrong.
"We have more than a right, we have a duty to protect our women and children, Mikhail, and I shouldn't have to tell you that. You nearly lost Raven three times now."
Mikhail tamped down his own rising beast. It would do no good to turn a useful discussion into an argument. Jacques had a valid point—as did Mikhail, and in the end, they would do what they had to do to protect their
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