Home > Books > The Book of Life (All Souls #3)(249)

The Book of Life (All Souls #3)(249)

Author:Deborah Harkness

“Silent night, holy night,” I agreed with a grin, leaning over to switch off the baby monitor. Like blood-pressure cuffs and power tools, such equipment was optional in a vampire household.

While I fiddled with the controls, Matthew tackled me. Weeks of separation and standing up to Baldwin had brought out his playful side.

“Your nose is freezing,” I said, giggling as he drew its tip along the warm skin of my neck. I gasped. “Your hands, too.”

“Why do you think I took a warmblood for a wife?” Matthew’s icy fingers rummaged around underneath my sweater.

“Wouldn’t a hot-water bottle have been less trouble?” I teased. His fingers found what they sought, and I arched into his touch.

“Perhaps.” Matthew kissed me. “But not nearly so much fun.”

The wine forgotten, we marked the hours until midnight in heartbeats rather than minutes. When the bells of the nearby churches in Dournazac and Chalus rang to celebrate the birth of a child in long ago and far-away Bethlehem, Matthew paused to listen to the solemn yet still-exuberant sound.

“What are you thinking?” I asked as the bells died away.

“I was remembering how the village celebrated Saturnalia when I was a child. There were not many Christians, apart from my parents and a few other families. On the last day of the festival—the twenty-third of December—Philippe went to every house, pagan and Christian, and asked the children what they wished for the New Year.” Matthew’s smile was wistful. “When we woke up the next morning, we discovered that our wishes had been granted.”

“That sounds like your father,” I observed. “What did you wish for?”

“More food, usually,” Matthew said with a laugh. “My mother said the only way to account for the amount I ate was hollow legs. Once I asked for a sword. Every boy in the village idolized Hugh and Baldwin. We all wanted to be like them. As I recall, the sword I received was made of wood and broke the first time I swung it.”

“And now?” I whispered, kissing his eyes, his cheeks, his mouth.

“Now I want nothing more than to grow old with you,” Matthew said.

The family came to us on Christmas Day, saving us from having to bundle up Rebecca and Philip yet again. From the changes to their routine, the twins were aware that this was no ordinary day. They demanded to be part of things, and I finally took them to the kitchen with me to keep them quiet. There I constructed a magical mobile out of flying fruit to occupy them while I helped Marthe put the finishing touches on a meal that would make both vampires and warmbloods happy.

Matthew was a nuisance, too, picking at the dish of nuts I’d whipped up from Em’s recipe. At this point if any of them lasted till dinner, it was going to be a Christmas miracle.

“Just one more,” he wheedled, sliding his hands around my waist.

“You’ve eaten half a pound of them already. Leave some for Marcus and Jack.” I wasn’t sure if vampires got sugar highs, but I wasn’t eager to find out. “Still liking your Christmas present?”

I’d been trying to figure out what to get the man who had everything ever since the children were born, but when Matthew told me his wish was to grow old with me, I knew exactly what to do for his present.

“I love it.” He touched his temples, where a few silver strands showed in the black.

“You always said I was going to give you gray hairs.” I grinned.

“And I thought it was impossible. That was before I learned that impossible n’est pas Diana,” he said, paraphrasing Ysabeau. Matthew grabbed a handful of nuts and went to the babies before I could react. “Hello, beauty.”

Rebecca cooed in response. She and Philip shared a complex vocabulary of coos, grunts, and other soft sounds that Matthew and I were trying to master.