Shea leaned against Jacques, turning away from the crowd gathered to watch Santa distributing the presents to the children in the dining hall. Her fingers gripped Jacques's arm as she breathed her way through the contraction. "You know how we can set aside pain most of the time? This is like the conversion. There's no setting it aside. You just have to go with it. I was hoping, as a Carpathian woman, it would be a little easier."

A burst of laughter captured her attention and she turned to see Baby Jennifer spitting up on Santa's pristine, white beard. For a moment the coal-black eyes glinted silver, like a wolf, and rested on Mikhail. Just as quickly Santa recovered his jolly state and handed the baby back to Corinne.

Shea smiled up at Jacques. I wouldn't have missed this for the world.

If I were Mikhail, I'd be expecting lightning to strike. "Let's get you to the birthing chamber," Jacques said aloud, wrapping his arm behind her back to support her. He could feel the pain rippling through her body, growing stronger with each contraction. Stronger¨C and of longer duration.

Shea brushed her fingertips over his strong face. "Don't look so anxious. Millions of women have done this."

"But not you, little red hair," he whispered, leaning down to brush kisses on the top of her silky head. "Not us. You're my world, Shea."

"We'll be fine. Look." She indicated the back of the room with her chin.

"Oh, they've done this little show for the children right. Trust Savannah to know how to work a crowd with her magic. Before Gregori claimed her she was a mistress of illusion, working magic shows all over the world, and she certainly hasn't lost any of her skill. She has the crowd in the palm of her hand. Now the children will never believe, for a single

moment, that that is Gregori in that sleigh."

Even as "Santa" finished handing out presents, Gregori appeared at the back of the room, frowning at his lifemate. "Savannah! Why in the world are you dressed like that? What do you think you're doing?"

Children giggled when Savannah turned around with a mock guilty look on her face. She held a finger to her lips and made a little face. "I've got to go, and I'll have to bring down the curtain on St. Nick before I do. We wouldn't want to reveal his secrets to the entire world."

Santa Claus gathered up his sack and hurried over to the fireplace. Although the flames burned hot, he simply disappeared up the chimney. Another gasp of awe spread through the room.

"Savannah makes magic wherever she goes," Jacques agreed. "Those children will never forget this night."

Savannah waved her wand just as the footsteps overhead indicated St. Nick was climbing back into the sleigh. He swung his black boots expertly over the edging and picked up a long whip, cracking it over the head of the reindeer. They took to the air. The sleigh and bag of toys, now considerably less filled, lifted into the air and glided away to the sound of Santa's laughter.

Another ripple of pain slid maliciously through Shea's body. Her fingers clamped down hard around Jacques, even as she breathed slowly in an effort to control it. This time the pain was hard enough and lasted long enough to make the other Carpathians in the room fully aware that she was in active labor. Heads turned. Warriors, lifemates and even some of the children turned their attention to her.

Shea tried a small smile and nodded. "It is time. Where is Slavica? I must thank her for such a wonderful evening. It was filled with delightful surprises."

Francesca and Mikhail with several others closed rank around Shea.

"We need to get you to the birthing chamber now," Francesca declared. "We can do this, don't be afraid."

"I'm anxious, but not afraid. Jacques won't let anything happen to us, will you?" Shea asked, holding her lifemate's gaze.

"Not a single thing. This is going to be a beautiful, unforgettable birth," he assured her.

Shea took a few more steps toward the door and stopped, one hand pushing at her hair to get it off her brow as the swelling pain tightened across her stomach and down through her back. "Do you realize the latest report on babies is that they are sitting in a terrible chemical brew, just the way the animal and bird young have been doing, which is what is putting so

many species on the endangered list?"

"Shea," Jacques cautioned. "Now isn't the time to think about that."

"No, Jacques. We all have to think about it." She gasped as the pain rushed over her, stealing her breath. She grit her teeth and recited statistics. "Cord blood reflects what the mother passes to the baby through the placenta. Of the two hundred and eighty-seven chemicals detected in umbilical cord blood, one hundred and eighty of them are known to cause cancer in humans or animals, two hundred and seventeen are toxic to the brain and nervous system, and two hundred and eight cause birth defects or abnormal development in animal tests. And I'm quoting a report done by an environmental group out of Washington," Shea added, taking a breath as the pain subsided. "Everyone should be paying more attention to it. Among the chemicals found in the cord blood were methylmercury, produced by coal-fired power plants and certain industrial processes. People can breathe it in or eat it in seafood and it causes brain and nerve damage."

"Shea, our baby isn't going to have brain or nerve damage."

"You haven't read this report. The researchers also found polyaromatic hydrocarbons, or PAHs, which are produced by burning gasoline and garbage; flame-retardant chemicals called polybrominated dibenzodioxins and furans; and pesticides including DDT and chlordane."

"I don't know what half those things are," Jacques said, trying to soothe her. He ran his hand over her arm, but she shrugged him off.

"That's exactly why no one listens. Because they don't know what it is, they figure they don't have to pay attention." Panic filled her voice. "I know that's what's been happening to our children. We're so connected to the soil and the earth has become so toxic that we're now on the endangered species list as well."

"It's time to go," Jacques urged.

Get her out of here now, Mikhail ordered his brother. We cannot afford to have her overheard by the villagers.

It is her way of coping with pain and fear, Mikhail.

I am aware of that, Jacques.

"I have to thank Slavica first," Shea insisted, fighting back another swelling pain.

Mikhail leaned down to whisper to Raven. "Find her fast. We need to take Shea out of here before anyone else figures out what is happening."

"She's coming now and she has that older woman from San Francisco with her," Raven said, relief in her voice.

Mikhail swept his hand to help part the crowd, making it easier for Slavica and the woman to make their way across the room.

Raven hurried to them. "Shea has gone into labor and we need to take her home. She wants to quickly say good-bye and thank you for the lovely evening, Slavica," she said. "And of course, say a quick hello to you, Ms. Fitzpatrick. She's been waiting to meet you."

"I'll just wish her good luck, then, dear," Eileen said, leaning heavily on Slavica, using her cane to feel her way, her body bent slightly as she hobbled toward Shea and Jacques.

Aidan, standing across the room, frowned as the woman halted in front of Shea and stretched out her hand toward her.

"Finally. It is so good to meet you, my dear, and at such an eventful time." She tapped the floor with the cane twice, judging the distance between them. "I'm afraid I have to wear these terrible dark glasses and I'm having trouble seeing you. I was hoping you would have an unmistakable family resemblance."

Warriors. Using the common link of communication, Aidan called out to the others, his voice echoing his alarm. This makes no sense. The woman I met in San Francisco is the same as this one, but different. Old, yet not elderly. She walked spryly with a spring in her step and not at all bent. He was already moving, trying to use his speed to get through the crowd to Shea.

At once there was a stir as the men rushed toward Shea.

Jacques stepped in front of his lifemate as Eileen swung the cane straight up from the floor, stabbing at Shea's rounded stomach. Manolito, who had positioned himself closest to the couple, shoved Jacques aside and took the sharp needle buried in the cane deep in his abdomen. He stood for a moment staring at the mild-looking old woman, noting the nearly blind eyes and the wrinkled face. For a moment she wavered in his vision and he could see another face superimposed over hers, a face bearing long rake marks and torn eyes from a harpy eagle.

The creature from the burrow. She has been possessed. Manolito gasped. The mage dwells within the same body as the old woman. His body had already gone numb, and agony ripped at his chest as his heart seized. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, his eyes glazing over as the air stilled in his lungs and his heart ceased to beat.

Across the room, MaryAnn grabbed her chest with both hands to still the sudden twisting pain spreading through her body. Her legs went out from under her and she sat down abruptly. As suddenly as the pain started, it ended, leaving her feeling empty and lost, grieving, but for what-she didn't know.

Rafael leapt to his brother's side, crouching over the dead body, reaching with his spirit to force air through lungs, and blood through an uncooperative heart.

Mikhail and Jacques dragged Shea back, thrusting her behind them. Other hands caught her and thrust her even further away so that they made a wall of warriors around her. The cane arced toward Raven.

"Mother!" Savannah screamed and rushed toward Raven.

Gregori was there first, wrenching the cane out of the withered hand. Natalya! He kept his body between the old woman and Raven and Mikhail.

Natalya was already weaving a complicated sign in the air, murmuring softly, insistently. Vikirnoff picked the chant from her mind and added the power of his voice. Nicolae and Destiny joined with him, pouring their combined strength into Natalya through Vikirnoff.

They used throat chanting and mage spell, a combination of Carpathian and mage power. Eileen's mouth drew back in a snarl as the mage fought to maintain his shield. They could not attack him without killing Eileen. Her body bent almost double. The warriors ringed her, watching as her face contorted, showed a mouthful of teeth, elongated, and then went back to that of an older, refined woman.

Shea's pain swept through the Carpathian people, nearly paralyzing the men. Jacques, take her to the birthing chamber. Gregori commanded. Francesca, we must go now. She's too close. We cannot wait.

Mikhail took Syndil by the elbow and pushed her toward Gregori. They need you there as well. We will join you as soon as possible. Get the children home. The Von Shrieders will deal with this mage.

Eileen will need a healer, Gregori cautioned, even as he bent to lift Manolito. Rafael was keeping his brother's heart beating and he remained close to the master healer as they all moved into action.

I will see to her, Darius volunteered.

It is done then, Mikhail said as Jacques swung Shea into his arms and strode from the inn, Francesca close on his heels. Gregori and Rafael followed with Manolito.

Natalya's voice grew more commanding, more insistent. She pointed to the floor, ordering the mage out of the body and onto the floor, to crawl like a dog.

Eileen's body rippled with unease, stretched and twisted until it appeared warped. Her throat bobbed and undulated as growls swelled in volume and spittle ran down her face. She slowly turned her head until she was staring straight at Natalya, the eyes deep pits, wells of hate. The mage stared out at her, the wide, distorted mouth shaping one word. "Traitor," he accused, the voice a demonic rumble.

Her voice never faltered, although Vikirnoff put his hand on her back to steady her, a gesture of complete solidarity.

A shadow slid from Eileen's body, a dark oily substance, insubstantial, impossible to hold in one's hand or to kill. Several warriors tried, punching through the shadow to try to find a heart, even stabbing at it, but it continued to slink along the floor toward the door. Darius caught the elderly woman before she could hit the floor and lifted her into his arms, taking her back up the stairs to her room.

How do we kill it? Vikirnoff asked Natalya.

I don't know. It isn't a shadow warrior so I cannot send it back to the realm of the dead. It is a lost soul doing the bidding of the mage. Only he can really control it, give it peace or send it away. I have never run across a spell to kill one. I tried a few and maybe, over time, I can come up with something, but it is going to go back to its master.

Dimitri returned from escorting Gabriel with Tamara and Skyler back to their home. "I can try to follow it, see if the mage is close."

Natalya nodded. "Do not let them see you. The mage is strong and his knowledge is very ancient. I remember some of these spells, but they are faded from memory."

Natalya watched the Carpathian male shift on the run, a fluid, easy change almost in mid-stride. One moment he was walking tall; the next he was running on all fours as a shaggy, black wolf. "Good luck to you," she whispered, pressing her hand to her stomach as another wave of pain hit them all. "We'd better get to the birthing chamber if we're going to be of any use to Shea."

Deep below the ground in the warmest chamber of the cavern, Syndil called to the Earth, singing softly to enrich the soil, preparing it as Shea settled down into the soft bed of the richest loam, her head pillowed in Jacques's lap.

Several feet away, Gregori and Rafael worked on Manolito, trying to draw the poison from his body and at the same time, keep his heart beating and his lungs working.

All around them, candles sprang to life and the soothing aromatic scent of herbs and spices filled the air. The great healing chant swelled in volume as Carpathians everywhere, including Shea and Jacques, sang to keep the great warrior from slipping away, while Gregori undertook the journey to recover his spirit and escort him back to the land of the living.

Shea breathed through the contractions, using Jacques as her focus. She simply crawled into his mind and stayed there as contractions increased in duration and strength. In between she chanted with the others, feeling the camaraderie, being part of something so much larger, in harmony with the earth around them. Sisters and brothers coming together as family to heal one of their fallen-a warrior who had voluntarily given up his life to keep Shea and her unborn child safe.

The healing was difficult and slow, Gregori struggling against a poison meant to give a

quick death. Twice he had to stop, pale and swaying with weariness, to be rejuvenated by Rafael and then Lucian. Darius joined them, indicating Eileen was sleeping comfortably. Vikirnoff and Nicolae, Destiny and Natalya entered the chamber, reporting Dimitri was trying to follow the shadow back to its master.

Through it all, Shea remained quiet in Jacques's arms, breathing through each contraction until she gasped and gripped Francesca's hand. "He is coming soon," she whispered.

"We're ready," Francesca assured her.

Shea's gaze went to Gregori, already back in the warrior's body. Francesca swept her arm to encompass all the Carpathians in the chamber and without. "You are not alone. The child will be helped into the world, assisted by our people, welcomed by all and protected by all. Gregori will join us the moment he is able. Let your baby into our world, Shea."

Shea nodded and waited for the next contraction before pushing.

Gregori stepped away from Manolito. "He needs blood," he announced softly, "and several risings in good soil, but he will live."

It was Mikhail who stepped forward to offer blood to Manolito, an offering from the prince in respect and honor for Manolito's sacrifice. It was Rafael who opened the earth to receive his brother, weaving safeguards to ensure Manolito's rest would be undisturbed.

Gregori brushed his hand over Shea's head in a gesture of affection. "So, little one, you are, at last, bringing your son to us."

"I waited for you."

He smiled at her. "I am here now."

"Can you feel him? Are you touching him, making certain he is okay to breathe on his own?" She looked anxiously from Francesca to Gregori, her hands gripping Jacques tight.

All around her she could hear the birth chant, and the beautiful sound nearly overcame her fears-nearly. "You checked him for pollutants, Gregori? You made certain his blood is strong?"

"It is done and all is well. Give him to us and then you can rest. You have been too long worrying. Let him come so you can hold him in your arms."

Her gaze clung to his glittering silver one, and he gave her another nod of encouragement. "Trust me, ma petite, trust in your people and your lifemate. Release him."

She turned her head and looked up at Jacques. "I love you. Whatever happens, no matter what. I love you and I've never been sorry, not one single moment."

He blinked back tears and moved so she could stay looking him in the eye. Mind to mind, they reached for their son. They took a breath and she pushed, never looking away from her anchor-away from Jacques-the love of her life.

"Stop. That's good. Just breathe through it, Shea. He's looking around, take a look at him. He's excited to see his new world," Francesca encouraged.

"Not yet. Tell me he's breathing and he's healthy," Shea panted, still clinging to Jacques's mind, afraid if she let go she would simple shatter with fear for her child.

"Push again," Gregori instructed. The baby slipped out into his hands and he cradled the child to him, immediately leaving his own body to examine the child thoroughly in the way of their people.

Francesca clamped off the cord and Jacques cut it, separating mother and child.

Silence fell in the cavern. Candlelight flickered over their faces, as everyone stayed very still waiting. Suddenly, a squalling cry split the air.

Gregori smiled at Shea, held the baby high, out toward the prince. "Welcome our newest member into our world. A son for all to cherish."

Mikhail stepped up and laid his hand on the child's head. "A fine healthy boy. He couldn't be more beautiful. Welcome, son. Nephew. Warrior. Your life is linked to our lives for all time. We live as one and we die the same way. When one is born, it is cause for all to celebrate, and when one dies, we all feel the loss. You are brethren. Carpathian. It is an honor and privilege to welcome you."

Gregori held the boy above his head, and a cheer thundered through the birthing chamber. He turned and slowly, gently, put the infant in his mother's arms. She looked down into her son's face, tears in her eyes, one hand clinging to Jacques's. "He's so beautiful. Look at him, Jacques, look what we did."

Jacques leaned down to brush kisses over her face, his lips tasting her tears. Tears of happiness. "He's perfect, Shea."

Mikhail swept his arm around Raven and looked around the cavern at the happy faces of his people. Even Dimitri had returned to get a peek at the baby. Many of the unmated warriors crowded close, wanting to see what they had been fighting so many centuries for. They were together again after so many years and so much struggle. He kissed his lifemate, happiness sweeping through him. "We have every reason to celebrate, Raven. And all of it is right here, in this chamber. Were not only celebrating life, but hope. There is hope for our people again."