Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter collection 11-15

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  I wanted to feel his lips on mine, feel the brush of his skin under my hands. He affected me as he’d affected me almost from the first moment I saw him—like he was a missing piece of myself that I had to bring as close to my body as I could, as if we’d meld together someday.

  He didn’t argue as I brought him down for the kiss. He didn’t tell me that I was hurt and needed to rest. He just leaned in and pressed his mouth against mine.

  Kissing him was like breathing, automatic, something your body did so that it wouldn’t die. There was no thought to wanting to touch Micah, no waffling indecision like with every other man in my life. He was my Nimir-Raj, and from the moment we had been together it had been deeper than marriage, more permanent than anything words or paper could bind.

  My arms slid over his back, his shoulders, the slick wetness of his skin, and our beasts rose. His energy was like a hot breath along my skin, shimmering everywhere we touched. My beast rose up through the depths of my body, and I felt Micah’s beast echoing mine. They moved in our two separate bodies like two swimming shapes, up and up, each racing the other with only our skin to keep them apart. Then it was as if the skin was not enough to contain them, and our beasts swam through each of us. It bowed my back, brought Micah’s voice in something near a scream. Our beasts writhed between our bodies, the energies intertwined more than our bodies ever could. They wove and danced like some invisible rope, knotting, tying, gliding in and out of us, until I raked my nails down Micah’s body, and he set teeth into my shoulder.

  I don’t know if it was the pain, the pleasure, the beasts, or all of it together, but suddenly I could think again. Suddenly, I knew why I’d been sick all day.

  I felt that long metaphysical cord that bound me to Jean-Claude, saw him in his bed at the Circus of the Damned with Asher still beside him. There was a shadow sitting on Jean-Claude’s bare chest, a dark shape. The longer I looked at it, the more solid it became, until it turned a misshapen face to me, snarling, and showed me eyes burning with dark honey flame.

  I looked at the hungry shadow of Belle Morte’s power that had been trying to leech “life” from Jean-Claude all day. But the Master Vampire’s fail-safe systems had kicked in—his human servant, and probably his animal to call. Richard had refused to help us directly, but he was probably paying the price for it today.

  The thing hissed at me again, like some great demonic cat, and I decided to treat it like one. I threw my beast down the long line of metaphysical cord. What I hadn’t planned for was that Micah’s beast would follow mine, that when we attacked it would be together, ripping the thing to smoky tatters. It fled through the wall.

  I wondered where it had gotten to, and the thought was enough. I saw it in the guest room we’d prepared for Musette. The shadow sat on her chest for a second, then seemed to melt into her body. There was a moment when that swimming thing moved underneath the vampire’s dead skin, then all was quiet.

  Angelito’s voice, “Mistress are you there?”

  Then I was back in the warm water, and Micah’s arms. “What was that?” he asked, voice soft, strangled.

  “The shadowy thing was a piece of Belle Morte’s power that she gave to Musette.”

  “It was like it was trying to feed on Jean-Claude, but it couldn’t.”

  “I’m his human servant, Micah. I think when Musette tried to steal Jean-Claude’s strength, the attack deflected to me. She’s been sucking on me all day.”

  “Did Jean-Claude do that on purpose?” he asked.

  “No, he’s truly dead to the world. It’s just the way the system is set up. If she could have sucked Jean-Claude dry, then she could have taken the energy of all of his vamps, everyone that had a blood tie to him.”

  “Instead she’s been feeding off of you.”

  “Yeah, and probably Richard. I bet he called in sick to school today.”

  Micah held me tight against him. “How do we keep it from happening again?”

  I patted his arm. “You know that’s one of the things I like most about you. Most people would spend time worrying about what could have happened, how bad it could have been, you go straight to the practical.”

  “We need to do something before it hops back through the wall.”

  “Is my cell phone in here anywhere?”

  “In the pile with your clothes,” he said.

  “Can you reach it?”

  He stretched out one long arm. His arms were longer than they looked. He used fingertips to move the phone close enough to pick up. He handed it to me without a single question. Micah didn’t make me waste time explaining myself.

  I called the Circus of the Damned, the special number that wasn’t in the phone book. Ernie, who was Jean-Claude’s human errand boy and sometimes appetizer, answered. I asked if Bobby Lee was still there. When I described him, Ernie said, “Yeah, can’t get rid of him. Seems to think he’s in charge.”

  Since I sort of thought he was in charge, too, that worked for me. Bobby Lee came on the line. “Anita, what’s happening?”

  “Ask Ernie to find you some crosses, and put them on the doors to the guest rooms.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  “To keep the bad vampires from doing anymore metaphysical tricks today.”

  “That explains absolutely nothing to me.”

  “Just do it.”

  “Don’t you need to put crosses on the coffins to keep vampires from using their powers?”

  “There’s only one exit from each room, it’s like a bigger coffin. Trust me, it’ll work.”

  “You’re the boss, at least until Rafael tells me otherwise.” He asked Ernie for the crosses. I could hear Ernie’s voice protesting in tone, though not the words.

  Bobby Lee came back on line. “He’s worried that the crosses being in plain sight on the doors will impede our vampires when they wake.”

  “Maybe, but I’m more worried about what our guests are doing right now. When night falls, we’ll worry about it. Until then just do it.”

  “Are you ever going to explain to me why I’m doing it?”

  “You want to know, fine, the new vamps are using vampire wiles to suck energy from Jean-Claude, and through him, me. I have felt like shit all day.”

  “You know, I like you, Anita, you explain things when I ask. I almost never understand what the hell you’re talking about, but you talk to me like I’m bright enough to understand it, and know enough about magic to follow all the big words.”

  “I’m hanging up now, Bobby Lee.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I handed the phone to Micah so he could put it close to the pile of clothes, which I had no chance of reaching without dribbling water all over the place.

  I leaned back against Micah, and he sank deeper into the water, so that even the tip of my chin was submerged. I wanted to sink in against his body, be held, and drowse. Now that the shadow was off of Jean-Claude, I was tired. It was almost as if now I had permission to sleep.

  But there was one other crisis to talk about. “Jason told me that Nathaniel collapsed at work last night.”

  “He’s tucked into his room, sandwiched between Zane and Cherry. He’s fine.” Micah kissed the side of my head.

  “Is it true that he collapsed because the two of you can’t keep feeding my ardeur twice a day?”

  Micah went very still around me, and his silence said it all.

  “Did you know that the two of you couldn’t sustain me?”

  “You feed on Jean-Claude, too,” he said.

  “Fine, did you know that the three of you couldn’t sustain me?”

  “Jean-Claude keeps saying that your appetite should go down soon. The three of us could feed you if you only needed to be fed once a day. Twice a day is harder.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

  He hugged me, and I let him, but I wasn’t happy.

  “Because I know how hard it is for you to take new people to your bed. I was hoping you wouldn’t have to.”
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  That reminded me. “I sort of did.”

  “Did what?” he asked.

  “Took someone else to my bed.” I felt like I should be squirming with embarrassment, but my ability to be embarrassed wasn’t what it used to be.

  “Who?” he asked, voice soft.

  “Asher.”

  “You and Jean-Claude,” he made it more statement than question.

  “Yeah.”

  He cuddled me against him. “Why now?”

  I told him my reasoning.

  “You are going to make those vampires very unhappy tonight.”

  “I hope so.” I turned in his arms enough to see his face. He looked peaceful enough by candlelight. “Does it bother you, about Asher?”

  He seemed to think about it for a second or two. “Yes, and no.”

  “Explain the yes,” I said.

  “While you need the ardeur fed, there’s plenty of your time to go around. I’m a little worried about what happens if you get a string of men now, with the ardeur rising, then the ardeur goes away. You’re going to have some unhappy people, if you get too many of them.”

  I frowned. “I hadn’t thought about that. I mean I haven’t had intercourse with anyone but you and Jean-Claude.”

  “I’ll say what Jean-Claude would say if he were here: Ma petite, you are splitting hairs.”

  “Fine, fine, I don’t plan on kicking Nathaniel out of my bed just because the ardeur is quiet.”

  “No, but will you be willing to touch him the way he’s come to expect?”

  I turned so I wouldn’t have to meet those honest eyes of his. “I don’t know, that’s the truth, I don’t know.”

  “And Asher?”

  “One step at a time with him, okay.”

  “And Richard?”

  I shook my head against Micah’s chest. “That’s moot. Richard can barely stand to be within twenty feet of me.”

  “Are you seriously saying that if he showed up today and asked to come back, you’d say no?”

  It was my turn to go quiet in his arms. I thought about it, tried to think about it, clearly, level-headed. The trouble was that Richard was never a topic I was logical on.

  “I don’t know, but I’m leaning towards no.”

  “Really?”

  “Micah, I still have feelings for Richard, but he dumped me. He dumped me because I’m more comfortable with the monsters than he is. He dumped me because I’m too blood-thirsty for him. He dumped me because I’m not the person he wants me to be. I will never be the person he wants me to be.”

  “Richard will never be the person he wants himself to be,” Micah said, softly.

  I sighed. It was true. Richard wanted, more than anything else, to be human. He didn’t want to be a monster. He wanted to be a junior high science teacher, marry a nice girl, settle down, have 2.5 children, and maybe a dog. He was a science teacher, but the rest . . . Richard was like me, he would never have a normal life. I had accepted that, but he was still fighting. Fighting to be human, fighting to be ordinary, fighting not to love me. He’d succeeded on that last.

  “If Richard comes back to me, it won’t be for good. He’ll come back because he can’t help himself, but he hates himself too much to love anyone else.”

  “That’s harsh,” he said.

  “But true,” I said.

  Micah didn’t argue with me. He didn’t when he knew he was wrong, or knew I was right. Richard would have argued. Richard always argued. Richard seemed to believe that if he pretended the world was a nicer place than it really was, that that would change the world. It didn’t. The world was what it was. And no amount of anger, or hatred, or self-loathing, or stubborn blindness would change it.

  Maybe Richard would learn to accept himself, but I was beginning to believe that he would learn that lesson without me in his life.

  I hugged Micah’s arms around me like a warm coat, but I was tired now, achingly tired. If Richard knocked on the door today, and asked to come back, what would I do? Truthfully, I didn’t know. But one thing I knew, Richard wouldn’t let me feed the ardeur off of him. He thought it was monstrous. And he wouldn’t share me physically with anyone but Jean-Claude. Even if he wanted to come back, unless he’d let me feed the ardeur off of others, it wouldn’t work. Pure practicality. The ardeur had to be fed. Richard wouldn’t feed it. Richard wouldn’t let me feed it off of anyone but Jean-Claude. Jean-Claude alone couldn’t sustain my appetite. Hell, Micah, Jean-Claude, and Nathaniel together weren’t sustaining it. If Richard came back today, what would I do, offer him one-third of my bed, on the other side from Micah?

  Richard had consented to dating me at the same time I dated Jean-Claude, but never to sharing a bed with him and me at the same time. Richard would try to go back to what we had. I couldn’t do that.

  What would I do if Richard knocked on the door right now? Offer to let him join us in the bathtub, watch his face show all the hurt and rage, watch him stomp out again. What would I do if Richard wanted to come back? The only thing I could do, say no. The question was, was I strong enough to say it? Probably not.

  23

  I DIDN’T SO much wake, as come to the surface of sleep, enough to hear voices. Micah’s voice first, “What did Gregory say?”

  “That his father tried to contact him,” Cherry’s voice.

  “Why is that bad?”

  “His father is the one that pimped him and Stephen out when they were children.”

  “Every time I think I’ve heard the worst of people, I’m wrong,” Micah said.

  I fought to open my eyes, and it was as if my eyelids weighed a hundred pounds apiece. I blinked and found Micah still curled against me, but propped up on one elbow. Cherry was standing beside the bed. She was tall, slender, long waisted, with blond hair cut boyishly short. She wasn’t wearing any makeup which meant she was in a hurry, and she was actually wearing clothes which was unusual for one of the wereleopards. They usually only got dressed if I insisted. Either she was going out, or something was wrong. But of course, something was wrong.

  I fought to wake up enough to say something, and it took more effort than was pretty. My voice came out thick, “What’d you say, ’bout Gregory?”

  Cherry bent closer, and it took almost everything I had to keep her in focus as she moved in towards me. “You knew that Gregory and Stephen had been abused as children?” she made it half question.

  I managed to say, “Yeah.” I frowned up at her. “Did you say their father pimped them out as children?” Maybe I was dreaming? Either that, or I’d misunderstood.

  “You didn’t know,” Cherry said. Her face was so serious.

  I was suddenly more awake. “No.”

  Zane came through the bedroom door with Nathaniel in his arms. Zane was six feet tall, stretched a little too thin for my tastes, but since he and Cherry were living together, it wasn’t my tastes that counted. His very short hair was white-blond now. It was the first color occurring in nature that I’d ever seen him dye his hair. I had no idea what his true hair color was.

  Zane carried Nathaniel tucked in against his chest, like he was a sleeping child. Nathaniel’s nearly ankle-length auburn hair, in its heavy braid, was clutched in one of Zane’s hands. If you tried carrying Nathaniel without controlling all that hair, you had a tendency to trip on it. On either side of the braid his body was bare.

  “He’s wearing underwear,” Zane said, “we know the rules. No sleeping naked with you.” He moved the hair enough to flash a pair of the satiny jogging shorts that Nathaniel was fond of wearing for jammies.

  I tried to prop myself up on my elbows, but that seemed too hard. I settled for lying on my back with both eyes solidly open. “How’s he doing?”

  “He’s fine,” Micah said.

  I looked at him. I tried to make the look skeptical, but I failed, so I had to say out loud, “He looks comatose.”

  “Say something to her, you lazy cat,” Zane said.

  Nathaniel turned his head slowly, almo
st painfully slow, as Zane carried him around to the other side of the bed. He blinked lavender eyes at me, and gave me a lazy smile. He looked almost as tired as I felt. And why not? Hadn’t he collapsed for the same reason I had—because some vampire had been feeding off of him? The arduer didn’t take blood, but it was still a type of vampirism.

  Micah crawled out from the covers, flashing the perfectly tanned line of his body. Mercifully, he kept most of his assets hidden from my view. I think I was too tired to be tempted, but I knew I was too tired to want to be tempted. He pulled clothes on with his back to me, but when he turned around, pants safely zipped, the look on his face said plainly that he knew I’d been watching him.

  His dark, dark, brown hair curled around his shoulders. One movement of his head sent all that heavy hair sliding to one side of his face. The dark hair framed those extraordinary eyes, gleaming yellow and green at the same time now.

  “If you don’t move out of her line of sight, we’ll be here all bloody day,” Zane said.

  “You sound jealous,” Cherry chided him.

  “Well,” he said, “you don’t watch me like that.”

  “I don’t watch anybody like that,” Cherry said.

  Zane grinned at her. “I know.”

  They had one of those laughs that is a couple laugh, and you know that you are on the outside of an inside joke. Zane was right about one thing, I was delaying. It wasn’t until I tried getting out of bed that I realized I was still naked. I’d sort of known that, but in a distant, floaty kind of way.

  “I need clothes,” I said.

  Micah had pulled a polo shirt out of the communal drawer. It was one I’d bought with him in mind, a deep rich forest green. It brought out the green in his eyes. But the shirt fit both of us, as most of our shirts did. Our casual clothes had become common property—only the dress-up clothes were strictly his and hers.

  Micah didn’t so much make me lie back down, as touch my shoulder so I’d stop trying to sit up. I didn’t seem to be coordinated enough to sit up in bed, keep the sheet over my breasts, and chew gum at the same time. It was as if my body just wasn’t listening to me yet.