Rebecca seemed more interested in Miriam’s long curls, one of which was clenched in her fist.
As for the rest of the godparents, they were a formidable group. Fernando, Marcus, Chris, Marthe, and Sarah (in place of Vivian Harrison, who could not be there) served with Miriam as godparents for Rebecca. Jack, along with Hamish, Phoebe, Sophie, Amira, and Ysabeau (who stood up for her absent grandson Gallowglass) promised to guide and care for Philip. Even for a nonbeliever such as myself, the ancient words spoken by the priest made me feel that these children were going to be looked after and cared for, no matter what might happen.
The ceremony drew to a close, and Matthew visibly relaxed. Père Antoine asked Matthew and me to come forward and take Rebecca and Philip from their godparents. When we faced the congregation for the first time, there was one spontaneous cheer, then another.
“And there’s an end to the covenant!” a unfamiliar vampire said in a loud voice. “About bloody time, too.”
“Hear, hear, Russell,” several murmured in reply.
The bells rang out overhead. My smile turned to laughter as we were caught up in the happiness of the moment.
As usual, that was when everything started to go wrong.
The south door opened, letting in a gust of cold air. A man stood silhouetted against the light. I squinted, trying to make out his features. Throughout the church, vampires seemed to vanish only to reappear in the nave, barring the new arrival from coming any further inside. I drew closer to Matthew, holding Rebecca tight. The bells fell silent, though the air still reverberated with their final echoes.
“Congratulations, sister.” Baldwin’s deep voice filled the space. “I’ve come to welcome your children into the de Clermont family.”
Matthew drew himself up to his full height. Without a backward look, he handed Philip to Jack and marched down the aisle to his brother.
“Our children are not de Clermonts,” Matthew said coldly. He reached into his jacket and thrust a folded document at Baldwin. “They belong to me.”
33
The creatures gathered for the christening let out a collective gasp. Ysabeau signaled to Père Antoine, who quickly shepherded the villagers from the church. Then she and Fernando took up watchful positions on either side of Jack and me.
“Surely you don’t expect me to acknowledge a corrupt, diseased branch of this family and give it my blessing and respect?” Baldwin crumpled the document in his fist.
Jack’s eyes blackened at the insult.
“Matthew entrusted Philip to you. You are responsible for your godson,” Ysabeau reminded Jack.
“Do not let Baldwin’s words provoke you to ignore your sire’s wishes.”
Jack drew a deep, shaky breath and nodded. Philip cooed for Jack’s attention, and when he received it, he rewarded his godfather with a frown of concern. When Jack looked up again, his eyes were green and brown once again.
“This hardly seems like friendly behavior to me, Uncle Baldwin,” Marcus said calmly. “Let’s wait and discuss family business after the feast.”
“No, Marcus. We’ll discuss it now and get it over with,” Matthew said, countermanding his son.
In another time and place, Henry VIII’s courtiers had delivered the news of his fifth wife’s infidelity in church so that the king would think twice before killing the messenger. Matthew apparently believed it might keep Baldwin from killing him, too.
When Matthew suddenly appeared behind his brother, having only a moment before been in front, I realized that his decision to remain here was actually intended to protect Baldwin. Matthew, like Henry, would not shed blood on holy ground.
That did not mean, however, that Matthew was going to be entirely merciful. He had his brother in an unbreakable hold, with one long arm wrapped around Baldwin’s neck so that Matthew was grasping his own right bicep. His right hand drove into Baldwin’s shoulder blade with enough force to snap it in two, his expression devoid of emotion and his eyes balanced evenly between gray and black.
“And that is why you never let Matthew Clairmont come up behind you,” one vampire murmured to another.
“Soon it will hurt like hell, too,” his friend replied. “Unless Baldwin blacks out first.”
Wordlessly I passed Rebecca to Miriam. My hands were itching with power, and I hid them in the pockets of my coat. The arrow’s silver shaft felt heavy against my spine, and Corra was on high alert, her wings ready to spring open. After New Haven my familiar didn’t trust Baldwin any more than I did.
Baldwin almost succeeded in overcoming Matthew—or at least I thought he had. Before I could cry out in warning, it became evident that Baldwin’s seeming advantage was only a clever trick by Matthew to lull him into changing his position. When he did, Matthew used Baldwin’s own weight and a quick, bone-cracking kick to his brother’s leg to drop him to his knees. Baldwin let out a strangled grunt.