Carpathian 17 - Dark Celebration

by the way her body—and mind—felt so worn out.
    "I promised Raven I'd get the bread done for the party and I'd do it in a human way,"
    Shea reminded him. "I can't let her down."
    "First of all, little red hair"—Jacques swept her up into his arms—"you are about to have a baby and Raven would not care if you could not get the bread to bake. Fortunately, you have me and I will get it to work if it is the last thing I ever do."
    Shea smiled at the determination in his voice, relaxing against him. "You love a challenge."
    "Humans do this kind of thing every day. I should be able to do with it with no problem,"
    he groused, and moved with dizzying speed through the house to the tunnel leading to their chamber beneath the earth.
    The room was beautiful, with shimmering light from multicolored crystals layered over the walls. The soil was dark and rich, the best they could find, imported from one of the healing caves. Other than having a dirt floor, and a large dug-out resting place in the soil, the room looked like a regular bedroom. There were candles in sconces on the walls flickering in a multitude of lights, filling the room with a soothing fragrance.
    Jacques floated down into the deep depression in the earth and laid Shea gently into the rich soil. He stretched out beside her and leaned over to press a series of kisses along her rounded belly. The baby thumped his mouth and he laughed out loud.
    Shea treasured the sound of his laughter, the warmth in his eyes and the love in his fingertips and mouth as he teased the baby into kicking more vigorously. Her fingers tangled in Jacques's long hair as he laid his head against her stomach to talk to the baby as he did every evening.
    Come out and join us, son. We have waited long enough.
    "More than long enough," Shea said. "I want him where I can hold him in my arms. Tell him that when you're giving him his nightly bedtime story."
    Jacques pressed another series of kisses over her rounded tummy. "Your mother is telling you enough is enough. You will have to learn the codes women use, son, when they talk to men."
    "We don't have codes," Shea protested with a small laugh. She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of Jacques's strength. The smile faded. "I'm really afraid. I really am. I can't bear the thought of losing him. Already he's such a part of me, Jacques. And I fear I'm the one holding up the process, not him. He wants to be born and I want to keep him safe."

    Jacques lifted his head to look at her, nuzzling her neck, breathing warmth over her cold hands. "You carried him when we thought that to be impossible. He wants to survive. We have a strong bond with him. You know we cannot feed our children in the natural way our ancestors have done, and you have developed a formula that has kept Gabriel and Francesca's child alive as well as Dayan and Corrine's little one. You have made great strides, Shea."
    She pressed her fingers to her eyes. "I thought Raven was being so selfish not wanting to try again after she lost her baby, but now I understand. Our son moves and kicks and even more. I feel him puzzling things out. We can communicate with him. I didn't know we'd be able to do that—to get to know him before he was born. He knows us just as we know him.
    If we lost him now, it would be so difficult, Jacques—so difficult—perhaps unbearable, just as I know it was for Raven and all the other women who came before us."
    "Don't do this to yourself. Our baby will be born healthy and he will survive."
    Shea turned her face into Jacques's chest, closing her eyes again against the pain in her heart. "Will he? Once he leaves the shelter of my body, will he survive, Jacques? And if he does survive, what kind of a future is he facing?"
    "Tamara appears to be quite healthy, as does Jennifer."
    "And while we go to ground, another has to watch over our children. Does that make sense to you? Why can't our children go to ground as they should? Even if the soil contains some toxins, shouldn't they be able to tolerate the very thing they will come to need?"
    Jacques stroked back her hair, sensing the rising fear in her. The persistent ache in her back told her birth was near—was inevitable. She couldn't protect their son much longer.
    "Our people have gathered in joy for this occasion, Shea." He kissed her soft skin, his hands tender as he continued to tangle his fingers in her brightly colored hair. "Each Carpathian, near and far, has one true purpose at this time—to see