Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter collection 11-15

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  Auggie looked at me, but his eyes flinched, like someone who was expecting to be hit. “I won’t sell my people, or my power base, I won’t humilate myself, but short of that, I will do anything, anything, to have you and Jean-Claude feed on me again.” The flinching gave way to fear. “Want someone killed, I’ll do it. Money, drugs, designer anything, whatever you want, whatever you need, just don’t tell me that I’ll never be in your arms again.” His face turned away, but not before I saw the shine of unshed tears.

  “We do our own killing. We’ve got enough money. We are a drug-free zone; don’t bring that shit here. If I want designer stuff, I’ll buy it myself.”

  Auggie stood there, face averted, shoulders hunched, waiting for the blow to fall. “I have nothing to offer you then.” His voice was thick when he said it.

  “I am way past uncomfortable about what Jean-Claude and I did with you. It felt so fucking good to feed off you, and that terrifies me.”

  Auggie looked back at me. His eyes held the tears back by sheer willpower.

  “But for better or worse, I look at you and my heart aches. I want to comfort you, and that pisses me off. I’ve had people I loved, really loved, use vampire powers on me. I cut them off at the knees for it. I’ve run from them for months, not seeing them, not even talking to them.” I moved toward him as I spoke, a little closer with every sentence. “I just met you. You aren’t my friend. You forced me to love you, but I don’t know you.”

  He tried to give me angry eyes, but the unshed tears that hovered there ruined the effect. “I underestimated you, Anita.”

  “Most people do,” I said.

  “I thought you were just Jean-Claude’s human servant. I felt your power as a necromancer. It should have been a warning, but I went ahead with my plan. I wanted the ardeur. I wanted it so badly.” He smiled, but not like he was happy. “And I was arrogant. I am Master of the City of Chicago. I’ve been a mobster since the 1930s. I have been powerful, and a threat to anything in my path for centuries. The only thing that ever truly defeated me was Belle.” The tears trembled, but still he held them back.

  I stood there, staring at him, needing to look up only a little, because he wasn’t that tall. Normally I liked that in a man, but now I was just pissed. I was going to hold on to that anger, because rage was the only thing that kept me from running my hands over his bare chest. My hands itched with the desire to touch him. It wasn’t just love, it was more and less than that. It was a sort of magical compulsion. It felt like love, but it held elements of almost addiction. I realized that Auggie had rolled me, well and truly. His power had rolled me. I had fought free of some of it, and Jean-Claude had helped, but I wasn’t free of what he’d done to me. But staring into his face, those angry, teary eyes, I realized he wasn’t angry at me. He was angry at himself.

  “You rolled yourself,” I said.

  He closed his eyes and turned away. He spoke with his face averted from me. “The blade cuts both ways,” he whispered.

  “But if we’ve got better armor, then more of your power hits you than us, doesn’t it?”

  He nodded, still turned away.

  I had a flash of satisfaction. Served him right. But on the heels of that petty pleasure came regret. Regret like bitter ashes. “Jesus,” I whispered.

  He turned. He’d lost the battle with the tears. They ran in pale pinkish tracks down his face.

  “Of all the powers from Belle’s line that I’ve had used on me, Auggie, yours is the most awful.”

  “How can you say that?” he asked. “The ardeur can enslave. Requiem can rape with a thought.”

  “Yeah, Requiem’s power would be the ultimate date-rape drug, but he doesn’t use it that way.”

  “He did once,” Auggie said.

  I processed that information, tested if it was a lie, but I didn’t think it was. I shrugged. “Whatever he was as a young vampire, he’s not that now. But the ardeur is just lust, and so is Requiem’s power. It doesn’t steal the emotions; yours does.”

  “And you think that is a worse crime?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

  “You hate me.” He whispered it.

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  He turned away, and took a step. I caught his arm. He froze under that one small touch, as if I’d turned him to stone. I knew that reaction. That was the reaction when the merest brush of someone’s hand meant more to you than almost anything in the world, and it meant nothing to them. It was how I’d felt off and on with Richard. As if my entire life were in the hand that touched him, and he didn’t care. It was one of the reasons that I’d fought free of him. It was too hard to love that much, and hate that much at the same time.

  I used that touch to turn Auggie back to me. He let me do it, though he could have fought and won. I was stronger than a normal human now, but Auggie’s bicep was thicker than my thigh. In a fair fight, I’d lose, but Auggie’s own power had made certain he’d never have a fair fight with me.

  I looked into his eyes, watching him try to be angry, instead of hurt. “What a terrible power you have, Augustine,” I said, softly, “to offer true love and mean it. People must have been willing to trade anything, everything, for such a gift.”

  He nodded. “Without the ardeur to trap me back, I could have made you love me without risking this much of myself. I know everything about my power, Anita. I can make a person love me, really love me, and not love them back.”

  I dropped his arm. “Have you done that?”

  “You’re right, Anita, I have a terrible power. At first it was just the ability to make people like me, then love, but what I didn’t realize, at first, was that it was a two-edged blade. I could only cut my prey as deep as I was willing to be cut.”

  “That changed,” I said.

  He nodded. The tear tracks were drying on his face. He made no move to wipe them away. “I learned control. I learned to trap others without trapping myself, as Jean-Claude learned with the ardeur. I don’t know if Requiem ever learned how to cause lust in only one side of his equation.”

  “I did not.” Requiem came in, moving slowly, carefully. He was wearing his usual black cloak, so the injuries were hidden, but he moved like things still hurt. Someone had used cover-up on the worst of the facial bruises. It was a good job. You had to look to see the discoloration; even then, if I hadn’t known it was bruises, I might not have seen.

  Auggie glanced at him, then back at me. “But most of us do, eventually.”

  “So if our power hadn’t tripped you up, you’d have been willing to make me love you, really love you, and not love me back?”

  “I didn’t think that clearly, but I would not willingly have loved you, no.”

  “You really are a bastard,” I said.

  He nodded. “Chicago has no mob but the old-school Italian. I’ve kept out the Russians, the Ukrainians, the Chinese, the Koreans, the Japanese. No one, absolutely no one, takes power from me. While almost every other mob stronghold has been whittled away, I’ve held my territory against everyone. To do that, Anita, you have to be a bastard. A cold-blooded, murderous bastard.”

  “You hide it well,” I said. “The laugh is great.”

  “I work at appearing human; it makes the other bosses be less afraid.”

  “The head of Vegas is an old-time mobster, too.”

  Auggie shook his head. “He stopped being a force in the mob when he became a vampire. It takes a while to recover from it, and by the time Maximillian was powerful enough to take back some of it, times had changed, and he didn’t change with them. He’s powerful, and runs Vegas, but he’s not a boss anymore.”

  We stood there staring at each other.

  Jean-Claude came up behind me. He touched my shoulder, and when I didn’t pull away, he hugged me from behind. The look on Auggie’s face, seeing us together, was painful, and strangely satisfying. If he’d had his way, it would be me with that stricken look, and him cool and calm. Evil bastard, but even thinking it, I couldn’t own it
. Damn it.

  “The night wastes away. Soon we will have to change for the ballet,” Jean-Claude said.

  Auggie nodded. “Yeah, yeah.”

  “We need to decide if ma petite is too dangerous to go out among the other Masters of the City.”

  Auggie nodded again. “I’ll help you figure it out, if I can. I owe you for the breach in hospitality. I owe Anita for what I tried to do to her.” He looked away from both of us, staring at nothing. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the full weight of my own power. I’d forgotten how much it fuckin’ hurts.”

  “Excuse me.” Noel was standing beside us.

  We both turned and looked at him. I don’t know what he saw on our faces, but he backed up fast until he was out of reach of both of us. “May I approach?”

  “No,” Auggie said.

  “Yes,” I said.

  We looked at each other.

  Noel dropped to all fours. He didn’t bow, just dropped to all fours where he was standing. “I don’t know what to do; I can’t please you both.”

  “What is your problem, Auggie?” I said.

  “He asked a question, I answered it,” Auggie said.

  “Fine, you answered it for yourself, not for me.” I stepped away from Auggie, closer to Noel. Auggie grabbed my upper arm.

  I tensed, but didn’t try to pull away. I knew I’d lose if it was just brute strength. I looked at him, then at the hand on my arm. I looked back at him. “You did not just do that.”

  “And you did not just step away from me to go to anyone this submissive.”

  “Do you ever want to experience the ardeur again, Auggie?”

  He looked puzzled for a moment, but I knew in a way that that was an act. He might have been truly puzzled, but he worked at human facial expressions. “You know I do.”

  “Move the hand, or you won’t ever touch me again.”

  We stared at each other for a moment, then he let me go. “I heard you were dangerous, powerful, and quick to kill. What none of my spies caught, is that your force of will is the most dangerous thing about you. God, your eyes, the determination in your eyes.” He shook his head. “You mean it. You would truly cut me off because of this.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “Why, because I grabbed your arm?”

  “Because you’re acting like you own me. Nobody owns me.”

  Micah got off the love seat and started toward us. It drew Auggie’s gaze to him. “Your lion injured Travis and abused Noel. I think you owe them some consideration.”

  “Spoken like a leopard,” Auggie said, “so practical, so willing to negotiate.” He made those all sound like bad things.

  “You really are very much your animal to call, aren’t you?” Micah said.

  Auggie nodded.

  “For those of us who are confused, could you explain a little more?” I said.

  Micah said, “Lions are the most aggressive society among all the cats. To be a lion is to be always ready to defend your place in the pride. Unless you are very dominant or very strong, or make people fear you enough to be left alone. Noel and Travis are lesser, and Auggie treats them as if he were a dominant lion. A few dominant lions in most prides mate with all the females.”

  “Joseph’s pride isn’t run like that,” I said, “it’s closer to how the leopards run things.”

  Micah nodded. “Joseph’s pride is the exception, Anita. Remember, I spent years trapped with a mixed group. It can take forever to do business with lions because everything is a pissing contest. Joseph thinks more like a leopard—very reasonable, especially for a lion.”

  “Pussy-whipped is what I heard,” Auggie said. “His wife wouldn’t tolerate sharing.”

  “You know, Auggie, almost everything coming out of your mouth is just digging the hole deeper.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You’re on her shit list,” Micah said, “and you keep digging yourself a deeper pile of shit.” He actually smiled.

  “What are you smiling at?” Auggie asked.

  “I thought you might be a threat to our domestic arrangement, but you won’t be able to behave yourself long enough to be a threat to any other man in Anita’s life.”

  “Jean-Claude has already invited me down to sample the wares again.”

  “Sample the wares,” I said, “what the fuck does that mean? Am I wares, things to be sampled? I don’t fucking think so.”

  “See,” Micah said, “you keep this up and you won’t ever get the ardeur again.”

  Jean-Claude joined us. “You are being exceptionally careless with your words, Augustine. It isn’t like you to be so impolitic.”

  “He’s scared,” Nathaniel said. He came in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, pressing his nakedness against my back. I didn’t have to see his face to know the look. It was a look he’d only recently worn around me. Possessive, it said, mine, it said. I’ll share, but it’s mine. He usually only brought the look out when someone was behaving badly, or he didn’t like them. I think we were all agreed on what we thought of Auggie. He was such bad news.

  “Afraid of what, pussycat?” Auggie asked, disdain thick in his voice.

  “Wanting Anita as badly as you do,” Nathaniel said.

  The comment made me tense, but he pressed himself even closer, and I relaxed against him. He rested his face touching mine, so we probably looked like one of those posed engagement shots. Auggie was right about one thing; Nathaniel could play games when he wanted to. He played less and less as he got more comfortable with his life, and himself, but he hadn’t forgotten how to play.

  “You don’t like wanting anyone that much. You see it as a weakness,” Nathaniel said, “and you’re beginning to realize just how hard to deal with Anita can be.”

  I turned and looked at him, forcing him to move his head enough for us to make eye contact. “Do you find me difficult?”

  He grinned. “I like being dominated.”

  I started to say how hard I’d worked to ensure that he wasn’t dominated, then realized what the grin meant. He was teasing me. I tried to glare at him, but I wasn’t serious enough for it to work.

  “Do not let your unease be your undoing in this, Augustine,” Jean-Claude said.

  “What’s that mean?” he asked.

  “It means that if you continue to say and do such things to ma petite, then I will not be able to offer you the ardeur from her.”

  Auggie had a moment where something flashed through his eyes. For just a second I would have said it was fear. “Maybe I am being stupid, but I came to her looking for a Julianna and what I found is Belle.”

  Jean-Claude’s face went very still. “Why would you say that?”

  “I only saw you love two women in nearly six centuries, Jean-Claude. You don’t choose to love Belle Morte, she chooses it for you. You chose to love Julianna. I thought, if you had finally fallen in love again, that it would be someone like her. I thought that the tough talk, and the danger, were just surface. I thought if I scratched deep enough that Anita would be more like the only other human I ever saw you love.” Auggie shook his head. “You’ve got a physical type you like, petite brunettes, but beyond that”—he shook his head again—“Jesus, Jean-Claude, sweet Jesus, don’t you ever have anything in a woman’s personality that you like every time?”

  “Did you come here thinking that if you pushed ma petite hard enough she would crack open and be gentle and feminine in the way of Julianna?”

  “It wasn’t just you, Jean-Claude, but Asher, too. He never seemed to have a physical type, but personality; he liked gentle, laughing, comfortable women. Belle used to accuse him of being addicted to peasants, when it came to women.”

  “And you reasoned that if one woman had kept both of us happy, she must meet the criteria for both of us.”

  Auggie nodded.

  “Logical,” Jean-Claude said. “Wrong, but logical. I had forgotten that about you.”

  “Forgotten what?”

&
nbsp; “That you tried to make of love and emotions something logical, something that could be understood.”

  Auggie frowned at him. “You’re making fun of me.”

  Jean-Claude shook his head. “No, but I would remind you that Asher went on his own and found Julianna. I loved her with all my heart and soul, but she was not of my choosing. I came to love her, but I did not begin to love her.”

  “So I’ve got faulty data.”

  “If you like,” Jean-Claude said.

  Auggie looked at me, with Nathaniel still wrapped around me. “Micah’s right. I think like a lion. I don’t see Nathaniel as a problem, because he’s submissive. I do feel the need to prove myself more dominant than the other dominants in your bed. But, damn, there are a lot of them.”

  I shrugged, holding Nathaniel’s arms like you’d keep a shawl from spilling down your arms. “Is that why you tried to grab Micah, and why you stared at him like he was some kind of hooker?”

  Auggie shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “I don’t dig the macho shit, Auggie. Flex your dominance on your own time, not on mine.”

  Auggie pointed behind us, turning us all to look at Noel. He was still on all fours waiting to be noticed. “You say your local Rex doesn’t run his pride the way most do.”

  “He doesn’t,” Micah said.

  “His lion is reacting like he knows the rules.”

  “Joseph’s pride know how to be lions. They just don’t do that whole Serengeti-plains-dominance-fight at each kill,” Micah said.

  “That’s what it means to be a lion,” Auggie said.

  “Actually,” I said, “lions native to forested regions don’t do that. The fluidity of dominance, and the complicated social system, seem peculiar to the African plains region.”

  Auggie gave me a look.

  I actually felt myself beginning to blush, and fought it off. Nathaniel hugged me. “Smart girls are so sexy,” he whispered.

  I managed to say, “I have a degree in biology, and I did research on the various animal forms once the coalition got going.”

  Auggie gave an abrupt laugh. “I’ve been dealing with lions for thousands of years, and I’ve never picked up a book about them.”