Roaring Dawn: Macey Book 3 (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 10)(56)

“Who are all these paintings of, Papa?” she asked, slipping her hand through the crook of his arm. “I thought all of the Venators’ photos were hung in the Great Hall. These are much larger and fancier than the others.”

He looked down at her fingers settled on his arm, then back up at her with a surprisingly misty look. It seemed he still found it unbelievable that she was there, and with him—and that she no longer called him Max.

“Your family. Those who have come before us. All of these in this hallway are from the direct line of Gardeleus, and each of them were the summas at one time. Someday, after I’m gone, my portrait will hang there, and yours as well.”

“I hope that’s a long time from now,” Macey told him. “Because I think I’m going to be a little busy for a few decades.”

Max looked down at her in astonishment, and she replied, “Grady wants four children. I’m trying to negotiate him down to two, but he’s pretty insistent.” She laughed, so incredibly lighthearted and happy—and so relieved that she was, at last, no longer alone. With a father, a stepmother, and a husband—and now Bell and Paolo and Liam and the others—she no longer had to face all of her nightmares and challenges alone.

“But you aren’t… You can’t be… Not yet,” Max replied. “You’re not with child yet, are you?”

“Not yet…but we’re doing our best.” She grinned cheekily up at him and was delighted when his face turned ruddy.

“Damned mick. I knew I was going to have to learn to detest him,” he replied, laughing uncomfortably. “I don’t think I need any more details, Macey. Just let me know when…there’s something to know.”

She grinned up at him and bumped against his side affectionately. It had taken a while for her to get to this point, but she’d realized rather quickly that Grady’s forgiveness and understanding of her actions should translate into compassion of her own toward her father.

“You’ll be the first to know,” she told him. Then stopped at the portrait of a beautiful dark-haired woman. Though she’d never seen pictures of any of her ancestors, she didn’t even need to look at the nameplate. “Victoria.”

“Yes.” Max’s voice grew solemn, and was filled with awe. “Did you know she wore two vis bullae?”

“Two? How could that be?”

“It’s quite an interesting story. You’ll have to ask Paolo about it.”

“Does Max Pesaro figure in it much? I understand he’s quite worth a swooning over,” she said, still staring at the portrait.

“You must have been talking to Savina,” Max replied with a sigh. “She’s quite fixated on my great-grandfather for some bloody reason.”

“I’m certain that’s the only reason she agreed to marry you,” Macey said gravely. “So she could say she was wed to a descendent of Max Pesaro.”

Her father actually stopped short and looked down at her.

Macey burst into laughter. “I’m teasing,” she said.

He grinned at that. “Well, his shoes are damned hard to fill.”

“You’ve succeeded in one-upping him in at least one way,” Macey told him, moving further along the corridor. This time she stopped in front of a red-headed woman with whiskey-colored eyes that sparkled with sassy delight. “Oh, this one looks like an interesting person. Lady Catherine—oh yes, Savina told me about her as well. But Paolo has promised to give me more details.”

She looked up to find her father looking at her speculatively. “What is it, Papa?”

“I’m just trying to figure out how I’ve one-upped Pesaro,” he muttered.

Macey hooted with laughter, then she realized he was quite serious. “You don’t know? What did you do today?” When he still looked blank, she said, “Max Pesaro only married once, didn’t he? See, you’ve overshot him by taking a second wife. And thank God you have,” she added under her breath. “From what I’ve heard from Bellitano and Paolo, you definitely needed to do it.”

He was still watching her. “You truly don’t mind that I’ve married again? That you have a stepmother? You know I’ve never forgotten your mother, that I’ll always love her…”

“Of course not, Papa. Truly. I’ve come to love Savina, and I am so happy for you, and for her. You deserve to have something good in your life after…after everything that happened.”

He was blinking a little too fast for it to be normal, and Macey realized he was tearing up. She turned back to the portraits to give him a moment, then mused aloud, “All of these seem to have been done by the same artist. Yet didn’t you tell me the portraits are finished shortly after each summas dies? How can that be, when so many of them are centuries old?”

“It’s quite a mystery, isn’t it, Max?” came a familiar voice.

Macey spun to see Wayren standing there, with a bemused smile on her face. “You’re here,” she said breathlessly. “We— I wasn’t certain you’d come.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” Wayren’s beatific smile fairly lit up the corridor. “I had things to attend to, and so I slipped into the church at the back so as not to disturb the ceremony. I heard your lovely speeches about Sebastian and Temple. They would have been very touched—as was I.”

“Could I…could I speak to you alone for a moment?” Macey asked.

For some reason, her heart was thudding wildly. This woman before her…she was such an enigma, and unaccountably powerful…and yet she was so peaceful. And seemed to carry no judgment.

But Macey was determined to unburden herself, and take whatever punishment or reprimand she might face.

“I would like that. I have to speak with Chas as well, but I would like also to talk to you, Macey.” Wayren glanced at Max, who nodded and stepped aside, walking off to rejoin the rest of the festivities.

Macey hesitated, then plunged in. “I wanted to ask you—to tell you—that I completely regret that I asked you to…what I asked you to do to Grady. It was wrong. I was wrong. But I have to know…why did you even offer me the option?”

Wayren took her hand, and at once Macey’s heart rate settled and her churning insides calmed.

“It was part of your education,” she told her. “With such great power wielded by the Venators, there comes with it temptations and choices with which mere mortals are never faced. You’ve learned a great lesson, and I trust you’ll remember this should you be faced with any similar situation. And, most importantly, I suspected that some day, you might be on the receiving end of a similar situation…and might need to make a decision for compassion and forgiveness yourself.”

Macey felt a shiver of comprehension. “Of course. My father.”

Wayren simply nodded.

Macey continued. “You gave Grady the choice, and he…”

“He chose you. That’s all you need to know about our conversation.” Wayren’s lovely smile and warm eyes took away any sting her words might have carried.

“Is he really the dauntless one?” Macey asked.

Wayren merely smiled in that enigmatic way of hers. “Whatever he is, he loves you very much, and he is more than worthy of a Venator wife.” She looked behind Macey. “And now…I see that Chas is approaching. I need to deliver some news to him.”

“Thank you, Wayren. I’m so thankful Grady chose the way he did, and that my father is back in my life.”

“And soon you’ll be quite busy,” she replied, her eyes crinkling a bit at the corners. “In…I would say, eight months and two days.”

Macey gasped, her eyes going wide. “Truly?”

“Truly. And your father…he’s going to be a most gentle, loving grandfather. Now, go be with your husband and tell him the news—with my blessing.”

Macey almost lunged up to kiss the woman on the cheek, but caught herself at the last minute. Wayren just didn’t seem like the kissing-recipient type.

“Chas,” she said as she came upon him. He wasn’t, she noticed, holding a glass of the champagne—or any drink at all. “Thank you for coming. I know you’re leaving for Siberia, and I hope to see you again soon. Godspeed.”

“Thank you, lulu,” he said. His face was more relaxed and his eyes brighter than she’d ever noticed. She didn’t know precisely what had changed him, but it seemed to have happened after he went back to Paris to retrieve the curved-tongue dagger. He pulled her close for a brief kiss on the lips, then released her and said, “Go back there and find your husband. He’s having too much fun showing off, picking everyone’s pockets.”

“I guess he wants to prove himself after what happened with Papa picking his at the wedding.” She hurried off to find Grady, leaving Chas and Wayren alone.

“You have news about Cezar Moldavi,” Chas said as soon as Macey was out of earshot.

“Yes,” Wayren replied, looking up at him with a cryptic smile. “You aren’t going to need to go to Siberia after all.”

“I’m not?” Chas had no complaints about that—he certainly hadn’t had any interest in going to the cold, remote region, ever.