“Thank you.”
“But there is also that immortality thing, not aging, neither Richard nor I were sure we wanted to give up being mortal.”
“And if you have bound yourself to Damian with the fourth mark, might it already be a moot point, ma petite.”
I stood there in my kitchen and was suddenly scared. “Shit,” I whispered.
“Oui, if you have truly completed all the marks, then your mortality may be a thing of the past. If that were true, then taking the fourth mark with me would lose you nothing.”
“And gain you the ability to walk in the day,” I said, and my voice wasn’t friendly when I said it, because I’d heard the tiniest bit of eagerness when he talked about walking in the daylight. I couldn’t blame him, but Jean-Claude had been working on his power base for too long not to see the advantages of things. I couldn’t blame him, but part of me wanted to. Part of me still wondered if I was more important to him for the power or love. Most of me knew that I would never know for certain, and truthfully, probably neither would Jean-Claude. Love was not the nice, neat, linear thing I’d wanted it to be. It was not just one thing, but many things. I could admit that one of the reasons I loved him was that he was hard to kill. His chances of up and dying on me were smaller than if he’d been human. A large part of me really liked that. I’d seen enough of what death could do, and at too young an age, not to appreciate it.
“Perhaps, or perhaps not, ma petite, this is more art than science, or so it would seem.” His voice held a thread of anger in it.
“What are you pissy about? I’m not the one trying to pick a language you can’t understand so I can hide things from you.”
“And I am not the one, ma petite, that has fucked another vampire, a lesser vampire, one of my own underlings.”
Put that way, it did sound like he had grounds to be pissed. “Am I supposed to apologize?”
“Non, but I do not have to like it. He has come to your body, and now he is free of the tyranny of the dark. One I could forgive, but not both. Both is a bitter thing, ma petite.”
“I am sorry,” I said, “I didn’t plan any of this.”
“Of that I am certain. I am even certain that Damian planned none of it. Only you, ma petite, could keep having such accidental sex.”
Accidental sex. He made it sound like I fell down, and there just happened to be an erection in the way. I kept that observation to myself. See, I am getting smarter. Out loud I said, “Accidental sex. That’s one way of putting it. Am I ever going to inherit a vampire power that doesn’t have sex involved somewhere in it?”
“I would never say for certain with you, ma petite, your necromancy makes you too much the wild card, but it is doubtful. So far you have inherited my powers, or Belle’s, or some version thereof. To my knowledge Belle’s powers revolve around sex, as do mine.”
“Great, can you at least give me a list, so I’ll have some idea what to expect?”
“I could, if you truly desire one.”
I sighed. “No, just tell me in person when we see you tonight.”
“Tonight? I was hoping that you might come earlier.”
“We can’t transport Damian in full daylight, his body might be fine, but I don’t think his sanity would be. Besides, I’ve got to work this afternoon.”
“Always the work, no matter what else is happening around you.”
“Look, Jean-Claude, you’ve never seen what happens around me when I’ve gone too long between zombie raisings. Let’s just say that I don’t want a line of roadkill trailing after me, or worse yet, some ‘accidental’ zombie come shambling into my room.”
“Are you saying that unused, your power raises the dead even if you do not wish to?”
“Yeah, I thought I’d told you that.”
“You have told me of raising the dead by accident when you were a child. I assumed that was merely from lack of training and disipline.”
“No,” I said, “it took me years to admit it, but no. If I don’t raise the dead on purpose, then it happens accidentally, or I start getting followed around by ghosts, or the spirits of the newly dead. I hate that last one, they always want me to take messages to their nearest and dearest, and it’s always stupid messages. I’m fine, I’m happy, don’t worry about me. What kind of message is that to knock on someone’s door with? I’m this complete stranger, but your dead son told me to hunt you down and say he’s fine. Nothing else, nothing urgent, just, I’m fine, don’t worry.” I shook my head. It had been years since I’d thought about that. “I raise zombies, and the dead leave me alone.”
“Do they? Do they really, ma petite?” There was an edge of humor, but it held darker things.
“You aren’t dead, Jean-Claude. I’ve seen dead, and whatever you guys are when you’re up and running, dead isn’t it.”
“There was a time when you did not believe that. I believe you once called me a handsome corpse.”
“Look, I was young, and I didn’t know any better.”
“Are you certain at last, ma petite, that I am not just a ‘cute dead guy’?” Again he was quoting me.
“Yeah, I’m certain.”
He laughed then, that touchable, raise-goosebumps-all-over-your-body sound. “I am glad of that. Do you speak Italian, ma petite?”
“No, why?”
“Nothing,” he said, “I will see you tonight then, ma petite, you and your new friends.”
I started to say they weren’t new friends, but he’d already hung up. I realized as I hung up, I should have lied about speaking Italian, but hell, as good as I’d gotten at lying, my first reaction was still to tell the truth. I guess you can’t undo all your upbringing, no matter how hard you try.
24
WE SENT GREGORY in his kitty-cat fur down to watch Damian. Gregory was about the only one in the house not tied to me metaphysically. Well, okay, Fredo and Dr. Lillian, but Fredo wouldn’t leave her alone, and Dr. Lillian said she wasn’t finished with Richard’s arm. So process of elimination made it Gregory’s job.
He informed me as he glided toward the basement, with his spotted tail swishing behind a very human-looking backside, “I’m supposed to be on stage tonight at Guilty Pleasures. I can’t go on like this. Jean-Claude will need to find a sub.” He gave that kitty-cat grin of bared teeth and vanished around the corner.
“What does he mean, he’s supposed to be on stage?” Clair asked.
“He’s a stripper at Guilty Pleasures,” I said.
She made a little O with her mouth. I wasn’t sure why, unless her world was so protected that just being in the car with a stripper was a big deal. For her sanity’s sake, I hoped her world was bigger than that.
“But, I don’t understand, why can’t he”—she made a waffling motion with her hands—“perform tonight?”
Richard saved me the lecture. “Remember that once in animal form you have to stay that way for six to eight hours.”
“I thought that was just because I was new.”
Richard shook his head, winced as if it hurt, and said, “No, most shapeshifters spend their lives tied to a cycle of six to eight hours in animal form, then two to four hours of being passed out once they shift back to human form.”
“Sit down,” Dr. Lillian said, and her voice indicated she expected to be obeyed.
He eased himself into the same chair he’d vacated. There were lines at his eyes and mouth, those tight pain lines you get sometimes, if something really hurts. How much damage had Damian done to him?
Clair tried to help him into the chair but seemed unsure where to grab him, since he used his good arm on the table to brace himself. She sort of hovered uncertainly by him, as if she wanted to help but wasn’t quite sure how. “But you don’t have to stay in animal form for eight hours, and you don’t pass out when you shift back.”
“He is your Ulfric,” Fredo said, “no one’s king is that weak.” His voice was deeper than his chest was wide.
Clair gave him quick eye flicks, a
s if he made her nervous. Maybe it was the knives. “Do you pass out when you come back into human form?” she asked in a voice that matched the nervous eyes.
“No,” he said.
“I do,” Nathaniel said. He smiled at her. “Don’t ask the rest of them, they’ll all make you feel bad, because they don’t pass out either.”
“How long have you been . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“A wereleopard,” he finished for her.
She nodded.
“Three years,” he said.
I did quick math in my head. “That means that Gabriel brought you over when you were seventeen.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“That’s illegal,” I said.
“It’s illegal in most states to contaminate anyone willingly with a potential fatal disease, regardless of age,” Richard said.
I shook my head. “I guess I’m starting to treat lycanthropy the way the law treats vampirism. If you’re eighteen you can choose.”
“The law doesn’t treat it the same,” he said.
I knew that, but I’d spent so much time among the shapeshifters, that I just sort of forgot. Careless of me. “I guess I forgot.”
“And you a federal marshal,” he said, but the biting comment lacked snap, because he hunched with pain at the same time.
“How hurt are you?” I asked.
“I’ll answer that,” Dr. Lillian said. She smiled, but her eyes were serious. “If he were human he’d stand a very good chance of losing the use of that arm. Maybe he’d regain 50 percent, maybe less mobility. Your vampire severed muscles and ligaments all through the shoulder and upper chest region.”
“But he’s not human,” I said, “so he’ll heal.” I let the “your vampire” comment go. I liked the doc, and I didn’t want to fight.
“He’ll heal, but it will take days, maybe weeks, if he refuses to shift.”
“I promise that I will shift to wolf form when I get home.”
She looked at him like she didn’t believe him.
“Just because I can shift back to human form almost immediately doesn’t mean that it doesn’t come with a price. I’d rather not be exhausted for the rest of the day. If I shift and stay in animal form for a couple of hours, it will be less of a drain when I go back to human form.” I think he was lecturing more for Clair’s sake than anyone else’s. She really was new. “So I’ll wait until I get home, so Clair won’t have to explain why she’s driving around with a werewolf in the car.” That last sounded a tad bitter.
“He won’t say it, so I will. I’m new enough that if one of my pack switches form, sometimes it brings on my change, too. And I’m not trustworthy when I first turn animal.” She looked down, not meeting anyone’s eyes.
Richard took her hand. “It’s alright, Clair, everyone has problems at first.”
Everyone nodded, some said “yes.” That seemed to cheer her a little. She looked younger than I’d thought at first, maybe twenty-four, twenty-five, maybe a little younger. If she hadn’t been Richard’s new girlfriend, I would have asked. But it seemed like prying and none of my business.
“Even if you shift at home, I’ve never seen you heal this much damage in forty-eight hours,” Dr. Lillian said.
“So?” he said, sounding defensive. Had I missed something?
“If you go to school on Monday with your arm useless and then by Friday it’s usable, don’t you think some of your fellow teachers might wonder about your remarkable recovery?”
“I’ll make up a less traumatic injury, something that could heal that fast.”
She shook her head. “If they find out you’re a werewolf, they won’t let you teach children.”
“I know that,” he said, voice fierce, and the first thread of his power trickled through the air like a line of heat.
Clair’s breath came out in a quiver. She looked dizzy. Micah put a chair under her, and helped Richard ease her into it.
“How long has she been a werewolf?” I asked.
“Three months,” he said.
I looked at him, and he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Three months, and you took her outside a safe house less than a week before the full moon?”
“Doesn’t your house qualify as a safe house?” he asked.
“You can come here to shift form, but I don’t have a reinforced room.” Most true safe houses had a room with a steel door and reinforced concrete walls. Most people put the rooms down in their basements and just told those who asked it was storage.
“We were supposed to have a picnic today,” Clair said in her small, uncertain voice.
I had to turn around so Richard wouldn’t see my face. You did not take a brand-new shifter out for a picnic, if she was having this kind of trouble.
“She was fine this morning,” he said.
I turned around when I was sure my face would be blank enough.
“She’s responding to your anger, and your beast,” Micah said.
“I know that,” Richard said, a hint of a growl in his voice.
She swayed in her chair.
“Richard,” Dr. Lillian said, “you have better control than this.”
He just nodded.
Lillian sighed. “If there was a way to heal your arm before Monday, your secret would be safe.”
“No,” Richard said.
It took me a moment to get the hint. “If you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, not only no, but hell no.”
She put her hands on her hips and actually stamped her foot. “You are both being childish.”
We said no simultaneously.
“Fine, then I’ve done all I can for your arm. I will stay until we are certain that the vampire isn’t going to rise and cause more havoc.”
“His name is Damian,” I said.
She nodded. “Damian, then, but if you won’t let her help you, then I think you and Clair need to go to your house. I would suggest that you take her to the room in your basement, before you shift. She seems very swayed by your power.” She said the last as if she wanted to say something different, but thought better of it.
“I’ll stay until Damian is down for the day.”
“I think you’ve done your part,” Lillian said.
“They needed my help before,” he said.
I couldn’t argue that, but . . “How did you happen to be Johnny-on-the-spot this morning?”
“Gregory couldn’t get anyone here to pick him up. He got worried. On his way over, his car broke down. I was next on the list at the coalition help line.”
I hadn’t actually known Richard was helping staff the emergency calls. “Why didn’t he call AAA?”
“He was more worried about why no one was answering your phone than his car.”
“I didn’t think Gregory cared that much.”
Fredo said, “All your leopards are very serious about your and Micah’s safety.”
I looked at him. “I wasn’t aware of that.”
He grinned, a brief flash of teeth in his dark face. “You don’t like being babied. They know that.” The smile faded. “You are their safe harbor; they value that.”
I don’t know what I would have said to that, but Lillian interrupted and saved me.
“You need to go home, Richard.”
“Micah is here now, and Fredo,” she said, “I think you can leave it to us.”
He started to shake his head again and stopped in mid-motion. “I’ll stay until we’re sure.”
She sighed and shrugged. “You are a very stubborn man. Fine, stay, stay and be in pain.” Then she turned to me. “Is there coffee to spare?”
I had to smile. “I think Nathaniel can fix you up.”
“I’ll just bet he can,” she said, and did a polite leer.
Nathaniel took it in stride, with a laugh.
I don’t know what the look on my face was, but it caused Lillian to say, “I’m over fifty, Anita, not dead.”
“No, it wasn’t that.” I wasn’t sure how to put
it into words, but it was more like you didn’t say things like that about someone’s boyfriend, not in front of them, anyway. There was that word boyfriend again in my head, with Nathaniel attached to it.
She was looking at me, sort of narrowly. “By the look on your face, I stepped in something. Is he more than just a member of your pard?”
I said, “yes,” and Richard said, “no.” Which left the two of us looking at each other. “I don’t think you get to answer questions like that for me, Richard.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry, but he’s not your lover, or your boyfriend.”
“No, he’s my pomme de sang.”
Richard shook his head and had to stop again. I don’t think he knew how often he made that motion until today. “I thought, we all thought, he was your live-in, but now I know he’s not.”
“He does live with me,” I said.
Richard started to shake his head, but actually caught himself before he’d begun the movement. “I know that, but he’s not your live-in lover.”
“And that matters, how?”
“Alright, children,” Doc Lillian said, “I made a careless remark. I didn’t understand what a pomme de sang means to its, his . . . owner, master.” She sighed. “I didn’t mean to offend anyone, let’s just leave it at that.”
“You didn’t offend me,” Nathaniel said, and handed her coffee in one of the colored mugs he’d purchased for Furry Coalition meetings. He’d thought it would be nice if we had enough matching mugs to serve our guests. I’d agreed, if I didn’t have to shop for them, so he shopped for them. They were all either a deep, rich blue or a dark, forest green. Nice.
He handed me my baby penguin mug with coffee nearly to the brim, just the color I liked it, pale brown. By the color alone, I knew it would be perfect. “Drink,” he said, “you’ll feel better once you’ve had some coffee.”
“I feel fine,” I said, but I sipped the coffee. Perfect.
He’d also already plugged in the coffeemaker. I was right about the French press not making enough coffee at a time to satisfy this many people. Hell, it barely made enough for my early morning needs. “We’ve got enough for one more cup, who wants it? There’ll be more in a few minutes.” He smiled at the room in general, getting more of the blue and green mugs out of the cabinet.
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