THE DEMON'S LEGACY

Chapter 5

"Oh, Jesus!" Barsad cried out.

With satisfaction, Sanjana watched his naked form collapse backward where he sat on the edge of the bed. She swallowed what he had left behind in her mouth, then used the mattress to help her rise from her knees. While Barsad lay panting, eyes closed, she rinsed her mouth with a drink of water from a glass on the nightstand, then lay with her head on his chest.

Sanjana studied his handsome, scruffy face with its high forehead, heavy-lidded eyes and long, straight nose. His thin lips, shaped like an archer's bow, parted slightly to help him catch his breath after her oral ministrations. Pleased with her ability to gratify her lover, she could not help but smile at the satisfaction on his face. As if reading her thoughts, Barsad opened one eye. Her smile broadened into a small giggle, and she trailed her finger over his moist lips.

"Proud of yourself, are you?" he teased.

"I just enjoy seeing you happy. And back in our bed."

"Mmmm," he sighed. "There's no place I'd rather be."

Barsad shifted to a more comfortable position on the bed, Sanjana's pregnant belly tight against him. He kissed her and reached for a pillow upon which to rest their heads, then he put his arms around her, kissed her again.

"You and your magic tongue," he murmured.

Sanjana scoffed lightly. "You are easy to please, my love, especially after you've been gone so long."

He closed his eyes and rested, languidly stroking her hair. "Has the baby settled down?"

"Yes. The kicks have stopped."

"Good."

"He is strong, like his father." Sanjana's hand glided along Barsad's powerful forearm.

"He? Did you find something out while I was gone? I thought you didn't want to know the baby's sex."

"No, I didn't find anything out, but more and more I feel that it is a boy. He is already troublesome, like his father."

"But you want a girl."

"I want a healthy child."

"Yeah, yeah. We both do, but you can say what you want, Sanji, I know you want a girl."

"And you want a boy, though you won't admit it. I see you with Henri. You want a boy of your own. You don't want Bane one-upping you." She grinned.

"Well…he has been strutting around like the cock of the walk since Henri was born, and, yeah, you might say there's a little male ego involved in this, but really," he kissed her, "I'll be happy with whatever eventually pops out of this big belly of yours." Barsad affectionately rubbed her naked baby bump, her skin as tight as a ripe tomato, her belly button inverted.

"It would be nice for Henri to have a little boy to play with," Sanjana said, "someone other than the El Fadil children. Henri doesn't really get along with them. I feel so bad for him. My brothers used to play all day outside with their friends, growing up. They were never a prisoner like little Henri. I think that is why he gives his mother so much trouble." She frowned. "I hope our child won't be so willful. I don't know if I could handle him, especially with you gone so much."

Barsad ignored her veiled point. He rested his cheek against her forehead. "Henri's the way he is because of who his parents are—have you ever known two more willful people? We're more laidback, you and me. Our kid will be a walk in the park compared to Henri. You'll see."

Sanjana sighed. "One long month to go."

Barsad reared his head to grin at her. "You know, they say vigorous sex can trigger labor."

She gave his nipple a playful tweak. "That is a wives' tale, and you know it. You aren't fooling me, John Barsad. Besides, you said you were too tired."

"I just said that so you'd give me a blow job."

She smacked his chest and feigned an angry look. "Just for that, you will get nothing more tonight."

Barsad chuckled. "You can't resist me, and you know it."

Sanjana gave a soft snort of dismissiveness and draped one long, brown leg across his.

"Speaking of resistance," Barsad said with a strange hint of wistfulness, "how long do you think Abrams will take before he finally gives in to Maysam's charms?"

Sanjana hid her frown and remained silent for a moment. Though unsure why, she never liked it when Barsad spoke of Maysam in such flattering ways. She told herself she was being foolish over such a thing and that she would surely be jealous of any woman Barsad spoke of so fondly. Maybe it only bothered her because of her own uneasy relationship with Maysam. Yet ever since the day Sanjana had met Barsad in Maysam's salon, she easily saw the warm rapport between him and her employer. On that first day, it meant nothing to Sanjana, but once her interest in Barsad began to blossom, she sometimes wondered about the two because of how close they seemed, something that went beyond old friends or old colleagues. On occasion, their body language and the way they spoke seemed almost flirtatious. Each time, Sanjana told herself she was imagining things, especially considering the age difference, Maysam's religion and family. Yet, there was a significant age gap between herself and Barsad, and that had no bearing on their relationship.

"Well?" Barsad interrupted her thoughts, tipping her chin up. "How long do you think it'll take Abrams? Bane, Yemi, and I have a pool going. Want in?"

Sanjana rested her chin on his chest and pinned a displeased look on him. "I hope you three aren't teasing that poor man."

"Nah. Well…Bane and Yemi don't."

"John, leave Abrams alone."

Barsad laughed. "You're only defending him because he can be as uncomfortable at Maysam's table as you are."

"I wouldn't have had any need to be uncomfortable if we had stayed here and had dinner, just the two of us."

"Wouldn't want to insult your boss, my dear."

"She wouldn't have cared if I wasn't there."

"That's not true."

"I think it is."

"Sanji." Barsad raised himself on his elbows. "You're being unfair to Maysam."

Sanjana sat up, feeling chilled. "Maysam? What about me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I think you're being unfair to me. You're more concerned with hurting Maysam's feelings than with hurting mine."

"Baby, don't be silly." He sat up, rubbed her arm where gooseflesh had appeared. "It would be disrespectful if we hadn't gone."

"If you hadn't gone. I could have stayed here; she would have been relieved."

"What? No."

Barsad put his arm around her shoulders. At first, she resisted his attempt to pull her close, but then she allowed him to embrace her, for she wanted his comfort. She could not, however, lift her gaze to him, both ashamed and injured.

"Remember," he gently scolded, "we're guests here. This is Maysam's home. We have to show respect, if for no other reason than her hospitality. Besides, if we hadn't gone, Bane would've given us shit. He does believe in propriety, you know…and appreciation. Maysam is risking a lot by having me, him, and Talia living here."

"Then perhaps we should move elsewhere."

"Baby, you know my job is with Bane."

"Then he and Talia could move with us."

"They aren't going to take Henri away from Maysam."

In utter frustration, Sanjana said, "Then let him stay and the rest of us go."

Barsad held her at arm's length, studied her. "You know that'll never happen, and it shouldn't. Sanji, what's going on?"

She struggled to articulate her feelings. "I feel so…insignificant here."

He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. "Nothing's farther from the truth. You're the most important thing in my life. I hope I haven't made you feel insignificant."

"No, it's not you."

"Then what? Has Maysam said something to you?"

"She doesn't need to say anything. I feel it. She doesn't think I'm good enough for you. And why would she? You won't ask me to marry you, after all. I'm just your concubine."

Barsad scowled. "That's not fair, Sanjana. You know why we aren't married."

"Yes, the League. But sometimes I wonder, if you weren't in the League, would you still ask me?"

"Marriage isn't important to me. I really don't believe in it. But that doesn't mean I don't love you and want to be with you."

"But it is important to me. I can't take my child to see his or her grandparents and tell them I am unwed."

"Then tell them you are."

Sanjana fell silent, stared at her restless fingers in her lap. She sighed. "What does it matter? They can never meet you anyway, not when the world knows your face and you are wanted by the authorities because of Gotham. So what good would it do me to tell them I am married when they can never meet my husband? They will think I'm just making you up so they accept my child."

Barsad turned her to face him and spoke gently. "Sanji, I know this is difficult for you. I'm sorry. I never should have allowed us to fall in love. And now, a baby to complicate matters even more. There are things I can't give you—a normal life being one of them. Maybe, someday."

"Can't you leave the League? If not for my sake, then for the sake of our child?"

"Not as long as Bane needs me. And, Sanji," his blue gaze darkened like a stormy sea, "Bane told me you spoke to him about this."

"I'm sorry, John. But I was desperate."

He cupped her cheek with his warm palm. "This is our problem, not his. Don't put him in the middle."

"But he understood me. I think he agrees with me. I think he would release you if you just asked."

"Of course he would because he cares for you, but I won't ask, and Talia won't let him release me either. She and I both know Bane needs me. No one else can reason with him the way I can. I keep him from being too rash in the field, and that keeps him alive. Talia appreciates that, even more now that they have Henri. She knows how focused Bane can be during an operation; he tends to wear blinkers sometimes, and that's not always good. So, as long as he's in the field, I have to be, too. You know that. That's not going to change, no matter how many times you and I discuss this."

Sanjana had not realized how close she was to tears until one spilled down her cheek.

"Damn it, Sanji," he murmured, "don't cry. C'mere." He drew her back into his arms, kissed her ear. "Think about the baby. Soon you'll have a little one to take your mind off all this. You're just stressed right now because of the pregnancy." He took her face in his hands and kissed her lips. "Don't ever think you're insignificant. I love you, and we're gonna get through this together, okay?"

Sanjana succumbed to his striking blue eyes, to their sultriness and warmth. She told herself she was indeed being unfair to him with her demands. After all, considering the rapes, no one would ever care for her the way she knew Barsad did. He had avenged her, rescued her, loved her. What more could she desire?

"We're both tired," he said. "C'mon." He returned the pillow to its place at the head of the bed, then pulled back the sheet and light blanket. "Let's get some sleep."

They crawled between the sheets and turned off the bedside lamp. Barsad drew her to him, kissed her forehead and wiped away the last of her tears.

"Sanji," he whispered. "Not being married doesn't mean I'm looking for an easy out if things become rocky, if that's what you're afraid of. The fact that I'm with you, that I'm having a child with you, after preferring to be alone all my life, should tell you what you mean to me. Do you understand?"

She closed her eyes, tried to accept things, to believe him. "Yes. Maybe you're right—once the baby arrives, I'll be able to look at things differently. I think things just build and build inside me when you are away." Sanjana held him tight. "I'm so glad you're going to be here for a while."

Barsad kissed her, and she could sense his smile through the darkness. "There's no place I'd rather be, darlin'."

###

Bane watched Talia finish the last swallow of her Bordeaux blend, a bold-flavored wine grown at the League's own vineyard in France. Of course the world had no idea that Chateau Blanc was owned by the League, but connoisseurs the world over were familiar with its vintages.

Talia, now lounging in a black lace chemise, licked the last vestiges of wine from her lips, seemingly lost in its taste. She loved her reds, the bolder the better. Ever since her schooling at Le Rosey in Switzerland, she had preferred anything French in various aspects of her life, including her wines, food, and the language, the latter so much so that its flavor touched every other language she spoke.

Bane set aside his now-empty glass—tonight his wine choice had been a cabernet franc, for he preferred cooler climate wines, something medium-bodied. League rubrics forbade alcohol use except for moderate wine consumption with meals, but since Talia was no longer an official member of the League, she often drank a glass in the evenings and insisted Bane join her, especially when he had just returned from an arduous mission.

"You deserve it," she would always say. "And not just because of your mission but because of all those years wearing the mask, when simply drinking a glass of wine was a trial. You missed out on so many of life's simple pleasures."

Initially Bane had dismissed her excuses for him to drink, but her persistence led to the periodic glass. Sometimes he teased her that she had really left the League so she had free rein to enjoy the League's wines. Indeed Talia had a strong influence on all aspects of Chateau Blanc. Now and then she wistfully spoke of one day retiring there, in the Pyrenees region of France. She loved the mountains, for their towering, snow-draped slopes reminded her and Bane of their early home with the League of Shadows, the training base high amongst the Himalayas.

Bane stood from the sofa and stretched before heading to the small bathroom located to one side of their bed. After using the toilet, he emerged to return to Talia but suddenly halted beside the bed. It struck him that something was missing, something significant.

"Where is your mother's blanket?" he asked.

Talia quickly looked over her shoulder to where he stood. "Oh, habibi." Sorrow darkened her eyes, and she hurriedly set aside her glass and came to him.

"Where is it?" he repeated.

Once a gift from Henri Ducard to his wife, the blanket was a treasure not only to Bane and Talia but to Maysam as well. The dark, hand-woven blanket, with its muted variety of colors and floral patterns, had accompanied Melisande into prison and provided comfort to all of them over the years, both physically and emotionally. Once Bane and Talia had been rescued from the pit and taken to their mountain home, Henri Ducard had grudgingly allowed Bane to keep the blanket in his room at Talia's insistence. But, when Bane was excommunicated from the League for insubordination and the murder of the League's second-in-command, Ducard had reclaimed the blanket. After his death, Talia returned the blanket to Bane. Bane was a man of no possessions except one: Melisande's blanket. It was precious beyond measure, for he had loved Melisande with all his heart and mourned her to this day.

"Habibi," Talia said again, reaching for his hands. "I've been trying to think of a way to tell you."

"Tell me what?" An edge of anger crept into his voice, not only because of Talia concealing something from him but because of his anxiety over the blanket's disappearance. "Where is it?"

She frowned as if in defeat and let go of him. Bowing her head, she went around the bed to a large dresser. Bane followed, stood behind her as she opened the bottom drawer and removed the blanket, which had been precisely folded.

"Why did you put it away? It should remain on our bed always."

Talia unfolded the blanket, her expression pinched, and spread it out on the bed. It was not large—it took up only a third of their bed. Bane stared in outrage, for one corner of the blanket had been torn some fifteen centimeters, and the fringe along the edges—maroon and cream-colored—had been ripped away near the tear. His hand explored the wound.

"How did this happen?" he demanded.

Talia sank to the bed, her hand caressing her mother's blanket. "A couple of days ago, Henri was being particularly obstinate about not wanting to take his afternoon nap. He wouldn't go to his room, and when I carried him there, he kept getting out of bed. For some reason, he had it in his head that you were coming home that day, and he wanted to be awake to greet you. No matter what I said or did, he wouldn't believe me, and he wouldn't settle down. He was so angry."

"Did you fetch Maysam to help?"

"She was away, visiting one of her relatives overnight. But I don't think Henri would have listened even to her. He just wanted you to be home. I had to literally chase him at one point, and that was when he grabbed the blanket off the bed and dragged it down the hallway." Her sigh gave a sound to all her troubles and fatigue as she stared at the blanket. "He ran into the bathroom and shut the door, but the blanket got caught along the bottom corner. When he tried to yank it free so the door would shut, the blanket ripped. The fabric is so old now; it didn't take much to harm it. I'm so sorry, Bane."

"It was not your fault," he rumbled.

"I haven't been able to tell Jiddah either. You know how dreadful I am with a needle and thread, so I thought I'd ask Sanjana to sew the tear so Jiddah won't notice it, at least not right away."

"Tell me what punishment you meted out for this outrage." He sat across the blanket from her, away from the ripped corner.

"Does it matter? Nothing makes any impression on Henri."

"I certainly hope you tried."

"Of course. I spanked him; I yelled at him. Worse than I've ever done. I think it almost frightened him. And then when he saw the tears in my eyes, he finally settled down and seemed somewhat contrite. At least he let me put him to bed. I don't think he slept, though, just to spite me. Oh, Bane, sometimes I just don't know what to do with him. I feel like such a failure."

The frustration in her voice tempered his own emotions. Those tears from that day appeared ready to return, so he tenderly drew the blanket into his lap and sat close to her, put his arm around her.

"I shall have a long talk with our cub tomorrow. His behavior is unacceptable. I will punish him. We both know that will have more of an effect on him coming from me."

"But, Bane, he has so little time with you; I'd hate for it to be spent that way."

"I can see how his continued disobedience is wearing on you. Understandably so. And it has escalated to this." He lovingly touched the blanket.

Talia's frown deepened. "What would Mama do if she were here?"

"No doubt her patience would be just as exhausted as yours, my dear. This is my fault for being away so frequently. When I am here, I indulge the boy too much. I fear that has contributed to his obstinacy."

"Was I that way when I was two?"

Bane offered a consoling smile and kissed her forehead. "You had your moments, little mouse. But the difference is that Henri is spoiled and living in a palace. We had no way to spoil you or provide a palace, and thus you matured before your time and appreciated every small comfort your mother and I could provide you. After she died, your grief caused you to become a bit more unmanageable, but in time that passed, and you only challenged me on occasion."

Talia absently played with some of the fringe on her mother's blanket. "How did you ever do it, Bane? Raising me by yourself in that nightmare and keeping my sex hidden all those years?"

"I had the examples set by our mothers to guide me. There were none finer to learn from."

Talia leaned her head on his bare shoulder. "I wish I could have known your mother."

"She would have loved you, habibati."

"And I would have loved her. I wish I could speak to them about raising children. Two years, and I still feel inept."

"Nonsense. Henri would be a challenge to anyone." He played with her hair, which was draped over her smooth, inviting shoulder. "He is our child, after all." Bane gave a small chuckle. "Barsad says we deserve Henri's personality."

"Barsad had better watch what he says. It could all come back to haunt him once he has a child of his own. That's why I want them to have a boy. Then he'll see."

"No, my dear. Barsad's child, I believe, will be much different from Henri, just as Barsad and Sanjana are so very different from us. Their child will be more even-keeled and reserved."

"Barsad—reserved?" Talia laughed.

Bane grinned. "That trait will come from Sanjana."

They fell into silence for a long moment, and Bane felt Talia fully relax against him. At first, he thought she had fallen asleep, but then she spoke softly.

"I think of all the things I accomplished when I was with the League. Intricate games, dangerous liaisons, manipulations. But now I can't even manipulate my own two-year-old son to take a nap."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, my love." Bane's finger tipped her chin up, so he could see into her tired eyes. "I think what you need is a break from motherhood for a couple of weeks."

She straightened. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you should take a vacation away from here, without Henri."

Her mouth gaped slightly. "I can't leave Henri."

"Of course you can. Just for two weeks. Go to Chateau Blanc. I will remain here. Henri needs to know what it feels like to be without his mother. He will appreciate you more when you return, I am sure of it. Consider it his punishment for this crime." He gestured to the blanket.

"But I…we've never been separated."

"That is part of the problem. He takes you for granted."

Talia considered his words, staring off into the darker corners of the room. Bane saw her conflicting emotions. There was a spark of excitement in her eyes at the prospect of being someplace relaxing for a while, yet there were lines of anxiety creasing her broad forehead as well.

"You must go, habibati," he murmured into her hair, then nibbled her ear. "Trust me on this. It will be good for both of you, and for me. I will get a true taste of what you have been experiencing. Perhaps that perspective will help me find a way to improve our cub's behavior for the times when I am gone."

"But when could I go? You might need to leave—"

"No, I will not leave while you are gone."

"But what if Barsad's baby comes early? I want to be here for the birth."

"Sanjana is not due for a month still. Besides, you will not be that far away. Our jet could have you back here in no time."

When Talia started to come up with another reason to stay, Bane put a finger to her lips and smiled at her.

"You need to do this. Trust me." He narrowed his eyes, teasing, "Do you not think me capable of this perilous assignment?"

She blushed and smiled. "You are capable of any assignment, habibi."

"Then tell me you will go. Tomorrow. I will make some calls tonight to have our brothers waiting at the chateau for your protection. And Yemi will accompany you."

Talia absently rubbed her arm as if chilled.

"You may drink wine to your heart's content and explore the mountains. You are not a desert rose, like your grandmother. Three years in the desert is a long time for you. You are a child of the mountains. It will renew you to visit them."

"Why don't we all go, as a family?"

"Good try, little mouse, but no. This will be just for you."

"I don't think—"

Again his finger silenced her lips. "Don't think, just do as I say. And trust me. I have always known what is best for you, have I not?"

"Yes," she mumbled, sounding like that child of the pit.

"Then it is settled." Bane tenderly folded the blanket and returned it to the dresser. "I will have your mother's blanket repaired while you are gone."

As he turned back to her, his gaze devoured the shape of her breasts and hips beneath the filigree veil of her chemise. The stirring in his loins renewed.

"Now." He sat beside her, smiled devilishly. "Let us make the most of our last night together."