Carpathian 17 - Dark Celebration

brought herself up short, and swung back to continue walking down the hall.
    Mikhail nearly groaned out loud, but managed to suppress it. Traian ! He issued the summons sharply, and in that moment he didn't give a damn whether the entire population of Carpathians heard the panic in his voice or not. He was not answering this woman's questions.
    She showed him into the large living room, and immediately took the chair opposite his and leaned forward eagerly. "I've just come from Sara's. You'll be happy to know the seamstresses are on track."

    "Seamstresses?" he echoed faintly. What seamstresses, Raven ?
    I have no idea. Ask her.
    Mikhail nodded, trying to look wise. "That is good, Mrs. Sanders. Uh—er—which seamstresses would that be?"
    Her eyebrow shot up. "You obviously dropped the ball on that one. Good thing I was here to pick it up. The children needed costumes for the pageant."
    "Costumes?" He seemed to be repeating her words, but he couldn't help it. He ran a finger around the neckline of his shirt. Traian, get in here before I do something like send an earthquake rippling through this house .
    "Did you expect to simply produce the outfits out of thin air?"
    "I suppose I was, yes."
    Mikhail ! Raven's voice reprimanded him sharply before he could speak. Don't you dare say another word and I mean it. That poor woman has two daughters who are now Carpathian. She deserves a little respect .
    Mikhail closed his eyes briefly. Of course she deserved respect, but he shouldn't have to deal with her. Where is my second in command? It's your job to protect me at all times and distance me from these unpleasant tasks .
    Gregori gave a derisive snort. I think you are capable of handling one little woman. I have my hands full at the moment with your daughter .
    Mikhail struggled between self-preservation and prank, and the prank won. He was not going to pull out his son-in-law card. He could handle this woman no matter what she threw at him. It would be well worth it to see Gregori prancing around in a Santa Claus outfit.
    "Just like a man. You order a huge celebration and then expect it all to get done on its own." Mrs. Sanders crossed her arms over her chest and regarded him with a stern eye.
    "Just what has been going on with my daughter Gabrielle? Joie and Traian said she was with you. I certainly hope you aren't the kind of prince who believes in harems because, and let's get this straight…" She leaned forward to look him in the eye, bent on intimidating him. "I'm not the mother to stand for it."
    Mikhail choked. Coughed. Traian! I'm commanding you to get into this room immediately .
    Sorry, Mikhail. I am on the way. Joie and I were just a little bit occupied.
    Mikhail heard Raven's soft laughter at the admission. They don't need to be enjoying themselves while I'm stuck with this woman .

    Maybe they re making a baby. Do you really want to disturb them ? Raven breathed in his ear, teasing his senses and stirring his body.
    Yes! And stop that. I need my brain to actually function around this woman.
    We are occupied with Gabrielle , Joie hastily added, clearly embarrassed.
    Mikhail sighed. Forgive me. I should have known you would be with your sister . It wouldn't be easy for Gabrielle to rise and know she needed blood to survive. Newly converted Carpathians always seemed to have difficulty with the concept. He could never understand the big deal. Carpathians weren't flesh eaters like humans and they didn't kill like the vampire, yet they were reviled for their need of blood.
    "I won't have my daughter regulated to the status of a—a— concubine . I won't allow it. I know you're married, so don't bother to deny it. You don't even have a country that I can see."
    Mikhail let his breath out and reached for the woman's mind, uncaring if it was impolite.
    He could make her forget all this nonsense and simply go into the kitchen.
    Her mind collided with his, as if she were reaching for him at the exact same time.
    Thunder rolled. Lightning sizzled in the sky and the clouds roiled impressively. The two minds impacted, slamming against one another, hitting hastily erected barriers. Mrs.
    Sanders jumped to her feet, her face pale, both hands clutching her head in pain.
    Puzzled, Mikhail rose as well. He bowed slightly. "Forgive me, Mrs. Sanders." It took a moment to recognize the unfamiliar brain patterns. It was no wonder her children were so gifted and such phenomenal psychics—all three of them. "You have the