“What do you mean?”
I had one of those moments of seeing so deep into another person that it makes the rest of the world seem unsteady for a moment. It wasn’t vampire powers, or necromancy, it was just a moment of insight so bright and painful that I couldn’t look away. “Look me in the eye, Asher, and tell me that you’ve never done what you did with me before, and had the woman not survive it?”
He looked away then, those pale eyes hiding from me.
“Asher,” I said.
He met my eyes with that blank perfect face, peering through the mess of his hair. “I have done what you accuse me of.”
“It’s not an accusation,” I said, “it was more a statement.”
“Do you not think me a monster for it?”
I thought about it. Did I think him a monster? “Did you do it on purpose?”
“Did I go into the lovemaking planning the death of my lover?” he asked.
“Yeah, that’s what I mean?”
“No, save once.”
“Once?”
“There was a lord from whom Belle desired money and land. He had been diagnosed with a cancer. He was a strong, proud man. He did not wish to die in pain and sickness. He requested I kill him. He wished to die by pleasure, instead of pain. He also felt that if I took his life, it was not suicide, so his soul was strangely safe.”
He told the story in an empty voice, as if it meant nothing to him. It was the kind of voice that people use about trauma or tragedy when they haven’t dealt with it yet.
“You liked him,” I said.
“He was a decent man.”
“I don’t think you’re a monster.”
“Why am I not a monster for killing someone to give myself pleasure?”
“Put that way, you would be, but that’s not what you did. It’s a loop of pleasure, Asher. It’s not your pleasure, but hers, mine. I could have said no. There was a point where I knew it was too much, that we should stop.”
“I had rolled your mind. You had no free will.”
“You can roll me, but I don’t stay rolled if I don’t want to, not anymore. I didn’t want to stop, Asher. Do you think I’m a monster for saying it was one of the most amazing orgasmic experiences that I’ve ever had?”
“No, not a monster.”
“We can have intercourse together alone sometimes, but no biting while we’re alone.”
“You do not trust me.”
“I don’t trust either of us,” I said.
He almost smiled. “I nearly killed you. I nearly spilled all that precious blood. The sofa had to be destroyed, the carpet taken up. I almost killed you, Anita, not for food, but for pleasure.”
“You were in the middle of a major power-up, Asher. An animal to call, at long last.”
He glanced behind at the waiting guards. “Hyenas, yes.”
“Jean-Claude says that the first time any power kicks in, it’s always hard to control.”
Asher took my hand. “I would not trade your love for a thousand powers. I would not trade a single strand of your hair for any territory.” His eyes were glittery, not with power, but tears.
“I believe you.”
“Your new laws say we are citizens, but we are monsters, Anita. If I had killed you with the birth of this new power, I would have followed you soon after.”
“You’re saying you would have killed yourself?”
He nodded. “I could not have borne it.”
“I don’t want you dead.”
“Nor I you.” He knelt and laid his head on my hand. “It was not blood that brought my power, Anita. It was you, you wanting me more than anyone else. In that moment I could feel it. You wanted me, not Jean-Claude, not Richard, not Micah, not Nathaniel, me. You wanted me, my body, my touch, more than anyone else’s. I could see into your heart, and I saw only me there.” He rose up, tears staining his face faintly pink. “You truly do love me, just me. Not because of memories you share with Jean-Claude. Not out of pity. You love me.”
“Yes,” I said, “otherwise I’d be wicked pissed about the whole almost-killing-me thing.”
“I will never forgive myself for that. Jean-Claude would have been within his rights to slay me for such carelessness.”
“He loves you.”
He nodded. “Yes, he does. I doubted that, until I realized he was not going to kill me for almost killing you. I doubted everyone’s love for me, Anita, but no longer. He loves me, or he would have killed me when he walked into that room and saw what I had done.”
SO that was it. I almost died. Asher had an animal to call. Jean-Claude didn’t kill him for almost killing me. I didn’t kill Asher for almost killing me. Jean-Claude has forbidden Asher and me to have feeding sex by ourselves. We didn’t argue, because Asher and I both know the darkest secret of all between us. It felt so good, so incredibly good, that we didn’t trust each other not to do it again.
I am a succubus. I am a vampire. Maybe not a bloodsucker, but I feed off sex. It isn’t just Damian’s life that can get drained away if I don’t feed. Nathaniel will die. I will die. I think Jean-Claude can protect himself and Richard from me, but I could kill us all if I don’t learn to manage my own personal triumvirate of power. London is the front-runner for my new pomme de sang. I wish I liked him better. I don’t dislike him, but I’m afraid to bring him home. He doesn’t strike me as the domestic type. Requiem is part of the food chain, but he is so not just food. He craves true love. I can’t blame him, but I can’t help him either. The sex is great, but he scares me. For centuries-old vampires, they all seem so easy to hurt emotionally. Weird.
I wrapped a cross in silk, put that in a velvet bag, and that inside a pillowcase. It seems to be working. No more bad dreams of Marmee Noir. No accidents for my vampire lovers, or me. I’d send Merlin a thank-you note if I had an address.
Sampson is staying in town so I can fulfill my promise to try to bring his powers over. He’s letting me recover my strength, and my nerve for it. Nice of him. I made Auggie take Haven home to Chicago. My hands ached to touch him. So dangerous. The local werelions are trying to find me someone else, but I miss Haven. He’s a dangerous thug, but I miss him. My lioness misses him. He would be such a bad idea to keep.
I wasn’t pregnant, yea! But while I thought I was pregnant, I had unprotected sex with Nathaniel, Jean-Claude, Micah, and Augustine. No one handed London a condom when I fed the ardeur off him. But I’ve managed to dodge the bullet on those, too. Thank God. Pregnant by one of my boyfriends is one thing; pregnant by Augustine would be a disaster I could not deal with. I think I’ll just start taping condoms to my body. Emergency sex comes up, you rip a condom off, and you’re as safe as you’re going to be. I’m safe from disease because my lovers aren’t human, but pregnancy, that is one disease that I’m not safe from. My period is still AWOL. My doctor says there’s nothing wrong with me. It could just be stress, or, there is literature about female shapeshifters having interrupted periods until their first full moon. Or, as my doctor pointed out, I am like a metaphysical miracle on two legs, so maybe it’s something else. Maybe it’s something we haven’t even thought of. He recommended I take folic acid because there are birth defects that have nothing to do with werewolves and vampires. I did what he said. He also suggested a therapist, or a vacation. A vacation? Me? Where would I go, and what would I do? Hell, who would I take with me?
I try not to think too hard on the fact that my “vampire powers” gave me Nathaniel and Micah. Hell, gave me to them. Why didn’t it work on Richard? Jean-Claude thinks it’s because he does not know his own heart’s desire. You can only get your wish when you truly know what it is you want. Maybe someday Richard will truly know what his heart needs. He’s dating humans exclusively. I’m the only preternatural he’s seeing. Richard has informed me he’s shopping for his white picket fence.
I’m happy behind my black wrought-iron fence. The one with the pointy spikes on top. White never really was my color.
THE HARLEQUIN
THE HARLEQUIN
LAURELL K. HAMILTON
BERKLEY BOOKS
NEW YORK
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2007 by Laurell K. Hamilton.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Hamilton, Laurell K.
The harlequin / Laurell K. Hamilton.—1st ed.
p. cm.
ISBN: 1-101-14710-5
1. Blake, Anita (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Vampires—Fiction. 3. St. Louis (Mo.)—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3558.A443357H37 2007
813'.54—dc22 2007005971
http://us.penguingroup.com
To Jonathon, who never freaks about my choice of research. He took away my serial killer books, at my request. When I was ready he gave them back. He’s helping me understand that just because someone else thinks you’re a monster doesn’t mean you are. Even if that person says they love you. Here’s to finding love that builds you up, instead of breaking you down.
Contents
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To the Staff: Darla, Chief Operations Officer, and Lauretta, who assists her; Sherry, Chief Domestic Officer, and Teresa, who assists her; Mary, Comptroller and Grandma extraordinaire; and Charles aka Gru, Chief Security Officer. For those who are wondering, Jon’s official title is Chief Information Officer.
Merrilee Heifitz, my agent, who has worked hard as we’ve pushed boundaries and entered new territory.
To Bev Leveto, thanks for your wonderful donation to Granite City. Hope you enjoy being a victim in this book.
To everyone at DBPro and Marvel, who helped bring Anita to life in the comic-book world. Special thanks to Les and Ernst Dabel for being gentle. Extra special thanks to our artist, Brett Booth, who did an amazing job and listened.
As always thanks to my writing group: Tom Drennan, Debroah Millitello, Rett MacPherson, Marella Sands, Sharon Shinn, and Mark Sumner. You guys help keep me going.
1
MALCOLM, THE HEAD of the Church of Eternal Life, the vampire church, sat across from me. Malcolm had never been in my office before. In fact, the last time I’d seen him, he’d accused me of doing black magic and being a whore. I’d also killed one of his members on church grounds, in front of him and the rest of his congregation. The dead vamp had been a serial killer. I’d had a court order of execution, but still, it hadn’t made Malcolm and me buddies.
I sat behind my desk, sipping coffee from my newest Christmas-themed mug: a little girl sat on Santa’s lap saying, “Define good.” I worked hard every year to find the most offensive mug I could so that Bert, our business manager, could throw a fit. This year’s mug was tame by my usual standards. It had become one of my holiday traditions. I’d at least dressed for the season in a red skirt and jacket over a thin silk sweater—very festive, for me. I had a new gun in my shoulder holster. A friend of mine had finally persuaded me to give up my Browning Hi-Power for something that fit my hand a little better and had a smoother profile. The Hi-Power was at home in the gun safe, and the Browning Dual Mode was in the holster. I felt like I was cheating but at least I was still a Browning girl.
Once upon a time, I’d thought Malcolm handsome, but that had been when his vampire tricks worked on me. Without vampire wiles to cloud my perception, I could see that his bone structure was too rough, almost as if it hadn’t quite gotten smoothed out before they put that pale skin on it. His hair was cut short and had a little curl to it, because to take the curl out of it he’d have had to shave it. The hair was a bright, bright canary yellow. That’s what blond hair does if you take it out of the sun for a few hundred years. He looked at me with his blue eyes and smiled, and the smile filled his face with personality. That same personality that made his Sunday morning television program such a hit. It wasn’t magic, it was just him. Charisma, for lack of a better word. There was force to Malcolm that had nothing to do with vampire powers and everything to do with who he was, not what he was. He’d have been a leader and a mover of men even if he’d been alive.
The smile softened his features, filled his face with a zeal that was both compelling and frightening. He was a true believer, head of a church of true believers. The whole idea of a vampire church still creeped me out, but it was the fastest-growing denomination in the country.
“I was surprised to see your name in my appointment book, Malcolm,” I said, finally.
“I understand that, Ms. Blake. I am almost equally surprised to be here.”
“Fine, we’re both surprised. Why are you here?”
“I suspect you have, or will soon have, a warrant of execution for a member of my church.”
I managed to keep my face blank, but felt the stiffness in my shoulders. He’d see the reaction, and he’d know what it meant. Master vampires don�
�t miss much. “You have a lot of members, Malcolm; could you narrow it down a little? Who exactly are we talking about?”
“Don’t be coy, Ms. Blake.”
“I’m not being coy.”
“You’re trying to imply that you have a warrant for more than one of my vampires. I do not believe it, and neither do you.”
I should have felt insulted, because I wasn’t lying. Two of his upstanding vamps had been very naughty. “If your vampires were fully blood-oathed to you, you’d know I was telling the truth, because you’d be able to enforce your moral code in entirely new ways.”
“A blood oath is not a guarantee of absolute control, Ms. Blake.”
“No, but it’s a start.”
A blood oath was what a vamp took when he joined a new vampire group, a new kiss. He literally took blood from the Master of the City. It meant the master had a lot more control over him, and the lesser vamps gained in power, too. If their master was powerful enough. A weak master wasn’t much help, but Jean-Claude, St. Louis’s Master of the City and my sweetie, wasn’t weak. Of course, the master gained power from the oath, as well. The more powerful a vamp they could oath, the more they gained. Like so many vampire powers, it was a two-way street.
“I do not want to enforce my moral code. I want my people to choose to be good people,” Malcolm said.
“Until your congregation is blood-oathed to some master vampire, they are loose cannons, Malcolm. You control them by force of personality and morality. Vampires only understand fear, and power.”
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