Dark Gifts

Angel's Voice

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He isn't sure if he is in Heaven or in Hell, but right now he doesn't really care.

He has her on the phone!

When Jade Waverly had called in and said, "Sir, you have a phone call from Paris," his heart had nearly stopped. Had she been hurt? Had she been attacked? Was there an accident? Was she dead? No, she was fine, she was all right, she had to be!

Then why, a vicious little voice had hissed, are they calling?

He'd gone white, ghastly white, he could see it in the sudden concern on Jade's face, but he had managed to keep the tremble to a minimum in his voice as he replied, "Thank you, Jade, I'll take it."

He'd grabbed the phone with a shaking hand and whispered, "Is Skyler... is she all right?"

"I'm fine, thanks," her voice had come over the speaker, gentle and a little bewildered. "Why? Who's this? Is this Dimitri?"

He'd had to clear his throat four times before he could say without rasping, "Yes. Yes, this is Dimitri. This is Skyler?"

"Yes. I... I was calling because... my birthday's coming up."

"Yes, I know. I commissioned your gift this morning."

There is silence for a long moment as his heart begins to pound. Has he said the wrong thing already? Surely he can't be that big of an idiot, that he offends his gentle, fragile Skyler so quickly. Did she not want a gift? Was she calling to tell him not to send her anything? Had she not liked the chocolate?

From the doorway, Shellton says, "Chillax, boss."

"Oh," Skyler murmurs, calling him back to the conversation. "Really? What is it?"

Does she sound a bit excited? Something tight in his belly loosens a little, and he finds it easier to breathe as he replies, sounding remarkably calm, "If I told you that, it wouldn't be much of a birthday gift, little one. I promise it is something you will like."

"Well... the thing is, Dimitri... my birthday's in a few weeks, and I was wondering... that is, Francesca said... Ginny thinks... Gabriel said no, but I think Lucian... blah." She makes a sound like she was clicking her tongue against her cheek. "Blah, blah, blah. Let me start over and see if I can say this. What I was wondering is... would you like to come visit us in Paris for my birthday?"

For a second, he cannot breathe. Surely he misheard. She would never have asked him... she would never allow... Gabriel would be furious... but...

"Do..." He must swallow hard to get the words out. "Do you wish me to come?"

"I..." She hesitates, and his heart sinks. It is a courtesy invitation, nothing more. "Yes."

His mouth is suddenly dry, his eyes suddenly stinging and wet. He brushes at one cheek and realizes that tears are rolling down his cheeks.

"When do you wish me to come?"

"Well... I don't know, actually. Francesca has to win Gabriel over. And I'm supposed to go on a tour of Europe with Desari, Darius, and Lucian in a few weeks... oh! That's right! I'm supposed to tell you, also, that Desari is inviting you to the Dark Troubadours concert in Moscow in June. I'm gonna go with Ginny, Paul, and Josef and our parents, so... did you, maybe... wanna go?"

For a moment, he cannot believe his ears. Is she asking him out on a date?

"Yes, I would like to go. Perhaps after the concert, you would like to come visit the wolf preserve?" He made it a question.

"Um... yeah. Maybe we could do that, maybe."

He is picking up currents of nervousness in her voice. He will have to let her go soon. But... she has called him on the phone. They've been talking for several minutes. She is asking him out on a date. He has her voice on mp3, photos of her, and a gift she made for him herself. Surely he is the luckiest Carpathian alive.

"Perhaps I may call you to make further arrangements?"

"Yes," she says. "You can call... whenever you like. Just not too often," she added, laughing a little. "It costs money."

"I will keep that in mind."

"Um... good night, Dimitri."

"Good night, Skyler."

"Um, Dimitri?"

"Yes, little one?"

"Do you like ballet?"

"I have never been."

"Oh," she says. Her voice is heavy with disappointment. In an attempt to eradicate that disappointment, he adds hastily, "But that is not to say I would not like to go. I would very much like to go."

With you, he adds silently. Aloud he says, "I merely... have not given it enough thought to make arrangements before. Do you like ballet?"

"Yes," she says. He can hear an undercurrent of memory in that short reply, as if she is remembering something that makes her very sad, but content in a way. "Yes, I like ballet. Perhaps we can go see a ballet sometime... maybe. Good night, Dimitri."

"Good night, Skyler."

His heart is pounding, and his expression is foolish as a love struck schoolboy. But he does not care.

She called him!