Dark Widow’s Blessing Read online

  Dark Widow’s Blessing

  The Children of the Gods Book 25

  I. T. Lucas

  THE CHILDREN OF THE GODS ORIGINS

  1: Goddess’s Choice

  2: Goddess’s Hope

  THE CHILDREN OF THE GODS

  Dark Stranger

  1: Dark Stranger The Dream

  2: Dark Stranger Revealed

  3: Dark Stranger Immortal

  Dark Enemy

  4: Dark Enemy Taken

  5: Dark Enemy Captive

  6: Dark Enemy Redeemed

  Kri & Michael’s Story

  6.5: My Dark Amazon Novella

  Dark Warrior

  7: Dark Warrior Mine

  8: Dark Warrior’s Promise

  9: Dark Warrior’s Destiny

  10: Dark Warrior’s Legacy

  Dark Guardian

  11: Dark Guardian Found

  12: Dark Guardian Craved

  13: Dark Guardian’s Mate

  Dark Angel

  14: Dark Angel's Obsession

  15: Dark Angel's Seduction

  16: Dark Angel's Surrender

  Dark Operative

  17: Dark Operative: A Shadow of Death

  18: Dark Operative: A Glimmer of Hope

  19: Dark Operative: The Dawn of Love

  Dark Survivor

  20: Dark Survivor Awakened

  21: Dark Survivor Echoes of Love

  22: Dark Survivor Reunited

  Dark Widow

  23: Dark Widow’s Secret

  24: Dark Widow’s Curse

  25: Dark Widow’s Blessing

  Dark Dream

  26: Dark Dream’s Temptation

  27: Dark Dream’s Unraveling

  TRY THE SERIES ON

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  Copyright © 2019 by I. T. Lucas

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Dark Widow’s Blessing is a work of fiction!

  Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any similarity to actual persons, organizations and/or events is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  1. Ella

  2. Vivian

  3. Magnus

  4. Vivian

  5. Magnus

  6. Vivian

  7. Ella

  8. Syssi

  9. Bridget

  10. Vivian

  11. Magnus

  12. Vivian

  13. Ella

  14. Bridget

  15. Vivian

  16. Magnus

  17. Ella

  18. Vivian

  19. Magnus

  20. Vivian

  21. Magnus

  22. Ella

  23. Vivian

  24. Turner

  25. Magnus

  26. Vivian

  27. Ella

  28. Magnus

  29. Vivian

  30. Ella

  31. Magnus

  32. Ella

  33. Turner

  34. Ella

  35. Vivian

  36. Magnus

  37. Ella

  38. Vivian

  39. Magnus

  40. Ella

  41. Vivian

  42. Magnus

  43. Vivian

  44. Magnus

  45. Ella

  46. Vivian

  47. Kian

  48. Ella

  49. Julian

  50. Vivian

  51. Ella

  52. Turner

  53. Ella

  54. Julian

  55. Vivian

  56. Ella

  57. Magnus

  Series reading order

  FOR EXCLUSIVE PEEKS

  1

  Ella

  “How do you like Russia?” Misha asked.

  “So far, I love it.”

  “Good.” His ugly face beamed as if Ella had just paid him the best of compliments.

  Apparently, Misha was a patriot.

  What she’d said was true, though. Ella was living a fairytale. Yesterday, while Dimitri had been out at meetings, she’d spent the morning touring the grounds surrounding the mansion, and in the afternoon, she’d had her first horseback riding lesson on her own horse.

  After inspecting several, she’d chosen the one the stables manager had recommended. Mariana was a plain looking mare, small and brown, but she had smart eyes and the sweetest temperament. They had hit it off right away.

  The best part was that Dimitri hadn’t come back until late at night, and by then Ella had been asleep for hours.

  Horseback riding was fun, but it was also very tiring.

  This morning at breakfast, she’d told him about all the fun she’d had the day before, and had even kissed him goodbye when he’d left for another busy day.

  Regrettably, in Ella’s version of the famous fairytale, her kiss wouldn’t transform the prince prince into someone she could love. But then, for the magic to work, the kiss needed to be given from the heart.

  Hers had been as fake as it could be.

  If her luck held, Dimitri wouldn’t be back until late at night again. He’d called earlier, instructing Ella to eat dinner without him. Which meant that she was sharing yet another meal with her bodyguard. Not that she minded. Misha wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was proving to be surprisingly pleasant company.

  “Thank you for another wonderful day, Misha. I had fun.”

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Don’t thank me, thank boss. I do what he tell me. He say, Misha, take Ella to stables, I take you to stables. He say, show Ella the mansion, I show you the mansion. He say, take Ella to village…”

  She lifted her hand to stop him. “I get it. You do what you’re told. But you do it with a smile and a good attitude, and that’s what I’m thanking you for. You could’ve been grouchy and mean, but you’re nice. I enjoy your company.”

  He grinned. “Thank you. You tell boss I do a good job, eh?”

  “I sure will.”

  Ella cut off another small piece of chicken and put it in her mouth. She was already full to bursting, but the chicken, like everything else the cook had served, was too delicious not to finish. At this rate, she was going to get fat fast.

  Was horseback riding good exercise?

  She wondered how many calories per hour it burned. Probably a lot, but for the horse rather than the rider. Her tiredness was more the result of spending the day in the Russian countryside’s incredibly fresh air, and not the actual riding and walking she’d done.

  The sounds of Dimitri’s purposeful footfalls alerted her to his arrival even before he walked into the master bedroom, and Ella plastered a smile on her face. “Good evening, Dimitri. Would you like to join us?”

  He glared at her and then at Misha. “Why are you eating in here?”

  Ella had left the door to the master bedroom open on purpose, so no one would suspect Misha of doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

  Nevertheless, the bodyguard jumped up as if someone had detonated fireworks under his ass. “I’m sorry, boss, but Ella wanted to eat in kitchen because dining room too big. I told her it’s not proper for the lady of the house to eat in the kitchen with the cooks and the maids, so she say to eat here.”

  Dimitri shrugged his suit jacket off and draped it over the back of the chair. “It’s okay, Misha. Ella can eat wherever she wants.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “How was
your day, lyubimaya?”

  “Wonderful. And yours?”

  Look at them, they were acting like an old married couple.

  He took the seat Misha had vacated and loosened his tie. “As good as can be expected while spending a day with politicians.” He chuckled. “Compared to those vultures, I’m a choirboy.”

  “Can I go, boss?” Misha asked.

  Dimitri waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, and tell the cook to send up another place setting.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  “You didn’t eat?” Ella asked.

  “I did, but it was a while ago, and I’m a little peckish. Besides, I want to share a meal with you.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “After a long day like this, coming home to you is like coming to a desert oasis after a day in the scorching, dry heat of the barren sand dunes.”

  As poetry went, Dimitri’s was so-so. But his words sounded genuine, and it had been a very nice thing to say. Ella wished she could reply with something similar. Unfortunately, she was not happy to see him. Already, she was doing her best to appear as if she was, and trying harder would just make it look fake.

  “I’m glad I can be here for you.” A big fat lie.

  Hopefully, Dimitri was too tired to notice.

  As a maid knocked on the open door, Dimitri waved her in. Bowing and smiling, she entered with a rolling cart. After arranging a place setting for him, the girl lifted the lid off a steaming plate loaded with the same assortment Ella and Misha had enjoyed for dinner.

  “Spaseeba,” Dimitri said.

  The girl curtsied. “Pahalusta.”

  “I should learn Russian.” Ella lifted her glass and took a sip. “Most of your staff don’t speak any English. In the village Misha and I visited today, there was only one guy who knew a few words. Don’t they teach it in schools here?”

  “It’s an elective. They can learn German or French instead. But the truth is that they have no use for them. Most of these people will never venture outside of their village, let alone outside of Russia.”

  “That’s true of Americans as well.”

  Dimitri put his fork down. “What second language did you study?”

  “Spanish.”

  “And how good is your command of it?”

  Ella grimaced. “Lousy. I never took it seriously.”

  “There you go.” Dimitri picked the fork and knife up, cut off a piece of chicken, and put it in his mouth.

  For the next ten minutes or so, Ella talked about her day while he ate. “The people seem to like you,” she said after telling him her impressions from the village she’d toured earlier.

  According to Misha, there were many more scattered throughout the vast estate. The feeling she’d gotten was of respect and gratitude. It seemed that to the villagers in his territory, Gorchenco was second only to God.

  He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Why wouldn’t they? I take care of them.”

  “Are you like the mayor of these parts? How does it work?”

  He waved a hand. “It’s more like a feudal lord, but since I don’t need to collect taxes, I’m much nicer.” He rose to his feet and offered her a hand up. “How about I take a shower while you wait for me in bed?”

  It wasn’t really a question. It was a command.

  “I would like to freshen up too.” The bathroom had his and hers separate areas, connected by a big Jacuzzi tub. She had her own shower, vanity, and a toilet compartment including a bidet.

  One of his brows lifted, Dimitri eyed her for a moment. “Don’t take long.”

  That had been her plan, but it seemed he was on to her. “I won’t.” Ella lowered her eyes. There was a question she needed to ask him but was afraid she wouldn’t like the answer. “Did you give contraceptives some further thought?” she blurted quickly before her courage deserted her.

  Dimitri smiled and took her hand, lifting it to his lips for a kiss. “I did, and I decided against it.”

  Crap. Her heart sank.

  He patted her hand. “I want you to have my children, Ella. I’m getting older, and it’s time for me to produce an heir. Before I took over, my father looked after the people living on our lands. I need a son to take over from me when the time comes.”

  Ella swallowed. “What about my education? You agreed with me that I needed it.”

  “Being a mother will not interfere with you getting the education you want. You’ll have plenty of help. I’ll hire nannies and nurses to take care of the baby when you’re otherwise occupied.”

  “And what about my girly figure?” She was reaching for straws, but that was all she had.

  He pulled her into his arms. “When your belly swells with my child, I’m going to love your beautiful body just as much, if not more, than I love it now.”

  2

  Vivian

  “Mom, I’m hungry.” Parker padded into the bedroom and continued into the bathroom.

  Mornings didn’t feel right in the underground. There was no day or night.

  With no natural light to regulate the body’s sleep cycle, it was all askew. Or maybe Vivian was just tired after spending most of the night talking with Magnus.

  At some point, he’d carried her to her bedroom. She’d been so wiped out after the dancing naked in the woods and the all-nighter with Magnus, that she’d skipped the shower even though it had been kind of gross getting in bed without it. Vivian had had just enough energy to drop the costume wizard robe on the floor, pull a sleep shirt on, and crawl under the covers.

  The curse-exorcizing ritual had taken a lot out of her, and then Magnus’s revelations had eaten up what little energy she’d had left over.

  Her body craved two or three more hours of sleep, and Vivian didn’t want to get up even though her phone’s display proclaimed in big white numbers that it was after ten.

  She wanted to keep on sleeping and dreaming the strangest, most wonderful dream ever.

  Except, it was no dream.

  Last night had really happened.

  Magnus had told her that he loved her, and she’d finally admitted the same to him, as well as herself.

  That alone would have been enough to put a big smile on her face upon waking up. But there was more.

  Oh, boy, there was so much more.

  As fantastic as Magnus’s story was, he’d given her enough proof to convince her that it was true.

  Immortals were real. They were the descendants of a race of gods, the same ones that various mythologies had deified. Just like in the myths, those gods had taken human lovers, and a race of immortals had been born. Or near-immortals. Magnus had admitted that they were hard to kill, but not indestructible.

  Vivian and her children might be carriers of those godly genes. If they were, their genes could be activated, and in addition to immortality, they would gain a host of other enhancements, some of them great, others a bit peculiar.

  The sharper senses, the greater physical strength, and the self-repairing bodies, all of that kind of made sense—there were evolutionary benefits to those traits—but the fangs, the venom, and the males’ impulse to bite during sex, not so much.

  Bridget could probably explain it better than Magnus, who seemed to have only a superficial knowledge of how and why things worked the way they did in his immortal body.

  There must be some biological or survival advantage to the venom system, other than delivering mind-blowing orgasms. Not that Vivian was complaining. Maybe nature, or whoever had altered the original gods’ genes, decided to make sex even more exciting for them. Which given their low conception rate also made sense.

  Vivian wondered if all immortal males were as spectacular in bed as Magnus.

  Doubtful.

  Magnus’s sexual prowess was about more than just great technique or staying power, although he had those too. He cared, he paid attention, and her pleasure was always more important to him than his own. That came from the inside, from the soul, and had nothing to do with his genetic makeup.

&nb
sp; Just like humans, immortals were probably distributed along the same spectrum of character traits. Only a few were very good, or conversely very bad, while most clustered around the middle.

  According to Magnus, not all of his relatives were good. Apparently, every family had a few rotten apples.

  In a way, she was glad that not all clan members were perfect. It would have made their village a very dull place.

  Vivian opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.

  He hadn’t been supposed to tell her about it without getting approval from his boss first. In his excitement, Magnus had blurted out that the clan’s secret hideout was somewhere in the Malibu mountains.

  The thing was, she and Parker couldn’t move into the village if one of them was not susceptible to thralling, and Magnus hadn’t tested Parker yet.

  Vivian, evidently, was easy to thrall. Magnus had done it to her after each venom bite, making her forget that it ever happened, and even though she understood the reason, she was still peeved at him for getting inside her head without permission.

  He claimed that he couldn’t read her thoughts, and only got impressions that looked like scenes in a movie, but since thoughts created mental images, what was the difference?

  Then again, thoughts usually jumped around from one to the next. So maybe it was hard to read them. The mental images they painted were probably like random scenes from different movies in fast forward. It would be a mess, a kaleidoscope of distorted pictures. At least in her head.