Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter collection 11-15

by Laurell K. Hamilton

“Her animals to call are all cats; they won’t wake.”

  “Who…Marmee…”

  I stopped the words with fingers against his lips. “Don’t,” I whispered. I don’t know why we were whispering. She would hear us. But there’s something about being in the dark when you know the predator is out there, that makes you whisper. You try to be small and quiet. You pray that it passes you by. But this wasn’t a predator, exactly; this was the entire night, given life and substance, and a mind. I smelled jasmine and summer rain, and other scents of a land that I had never seen except in vision and dream. The land where Marmee Noir had begun. I had no idea how old she was, didn’t want to know. I was a necromancer. I could have tasted her age on my psychic tongue, but I didn’t know if I could swallow that many centuries. I feared I’d choke.

  “Necromancer.” Her voice eased through the night like a sweet-scented wind.

  I managed to swallow past the beating of my heart. “Marmee Noir,” I said, and my voice was only a little hoarse. It was better with Richard beside me, awake. His arm wrapped around me as if he felt it, too, that together we were more here. Maybe our accidental sharing of dreams, Richard and me and Jean-Claude, had a purpose. One we just hadn’t understood until now.

  I leaned into the curve of Richard’s body, and his arm tightened. My hand on his bare chest let me feel the beat of his fear against my palm.

  The darkness gathered, almost the way light will narrow down to a point of brightness, except this was darkness compacted, squeezed down as if a small black hole were forming in front of our eyes. The black hole took on the vague shape of a woman in a cloak.

  I thought, very carefully, in my head at Richard, “Don’t look at her face.”

  “I know the rules,” he said out loud. He had heard me; good, great. Mind-to-mind talking was still not my best thing in dream or out of it.

  “Do you truly believe that not looking upon my face will save you?”

  Great, she read minds, too. I’d had much lesser vamps be able to do it. I shouldn’t have been surprised.

  “Tell me again why Micah and Nathaniel won’t wake?” Richard asked, his voice soft, but not a whisper anymore. It was too late for whispering. She’d found us.

  “Necromancer,” she said.

  “Cats are her creatures to call, all cats, so she can keep them out of the dream. Jean-Claude was with me last time and she was able to keep him out, too. She doesn’t do wolves.”

  “Your wolf will not save you this time, necromancer.”

  “How about mine?” Richard said, and a low growl trickled out from between his lips. It raised the hair on my arms, and that part of me where the beasts waited, stirred. The best I can describe it is that the place is like a cave where my animals wait. They walk up a long corridor to get to me. Since they’re inside me, that can’t exactly be right. But it’s the visualization that works for me.

  In dream, though, the wolf inside me could come out and play. My wolf was pale, white and cream with a black saddle and marks on her head. She crouched in front of me and joined her growl with Richard’s. I dug my free hand into her fur and found it like last time: soft, coarse. I could feel the vibration of the growl through my hand, feel the muscle and meat of her body. She was real, my she-wolf. She was real.

  Richard stopped growling and stared at the wolf. She turned eyes that were brown and glowing to him. My eyes when vampire powers had filled them. They stared at each other, then she turned back to the darkness. When Richard looked down at me, his eyes were the amber of his wolf.

  “Your master has left you both with the last piece undone,” she said. Her voice floated around the almost-body she’d formed from the shadows. She came to the foot of the bed.

  The wolf crouched, and growled, that sound that was absolutely serious. It was the last warning sound before violence.

  She didn’t try to touch the bed. She actually stopped moving. I remembered seeing her body in that distant room jerk when my wolf bit her in dream last time. Had it hurt her enough to make her hesitate? Had it hurt her enough to make a true threat? God, I hoped so.

  “You can still be enslaved to any master stronger than he, and there is no one stronger than me, necromancer.”

  I clung to the wolf’s fur and Richard’s body. “I believe that last part, Marmee Noir.”

  “Then why has your master left this door open?”

  The question puzzled me.

  “I do not know that expression on your face. I have been too long without humans.”

  “I’m puzzled,” I said.

  “I will help you not be puzzled, necromancer. I came tonight to make you mine. To shatter your triumvirate and make you my human servant. I do not need to share blood to own your soul.”

  I was trying to breathe past my pulse again, and having trouble doing it.

  “You won’t touch her,” Richard said, and his voice sounded gravelly, the beginnings of the change in the sound of his words.

  “I think you are right, wolf. I think it would be a battle with you by her side. I am not ready for battle, not yet. But there are others who know what Jean-Claude has not done.”

  “Who?” I managed to ask.

  “Do I need to say the word?” she asked.

  I opened my mouth to say it, but Richard said, “It’s against your laws to say it out loud. A killing offense, Jean-Claude said.”

  She laughed, and the darkness tightened around the bed like a giant’s fist. You knew, could feel, that it could crush the bed and everyone on it, if it wanted to. “That is not the trick I have come to play, wolf, but fine: Harlequin. They know you are not safe. They know that I am close to waking. They fear the darkness.”

  “Everyone’s afraid of you,” I said. The wolf had begun to relax under my grip. You could only hold on to emergency mode for so long. Apparently, we were talking, not fighting. Fine by me.

  “True, and I would have taken you tonight. I planned on it.”

  “You said that already,” Richard said, his voice a little more human, but sullen.

  “Then let me not repeat myself, wolf.” Her anger was not hot, but cold, as if an icy wind danced across my bare skin. Richard shivered beside me. I didn’t think I’d have to caution him to be nice. That flex of power explained it nicely. “By tomorrow they will be upon you, and I do not want them to have you.”

  “Have me, how?” I asked.

  “I will allow Jean-Claude to have you, because you are already his. But no one else. I would prefer you were my human servant, but Jean-Claude is acceptable. No one else, necromancer. I will destroy you before I allow the Harlequin to make you their slave.”

  “Why do I matter to you?”

  “I like the taste of you, necromancer,” she said, “and no one else can have you. I am a jealous Goddess, and I do not share power.”

  I swallowed past the lump in my throat. I nodded as if that made sense to me.

  “A parting gift, necromancer, wolf.” The shadowed form vanished, but she wasn’t gone. The darkness suddenly had weight and grew thicker, as if the night itself could become so thick it would eventually crawl down your throat and choke you. She’d done almost exactly that to me before. The scent of jasmine and rain was thick on my tongue.

  The wolf growled and Richard echoed her. “Can you bite that which you cannot find?” Her voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere. “My mistake was trying to be too human for you. I do not repeat mistakes.”

  The wolf crouched, but Marmee Noir was right, there was no body to bite here now. I had to find a way to visualize a target for my wolf. I struggled to believe that my wolf could bite the night itself.

  Richard grabbed my shoulders, turned me to him. His eyes were still amber and inhuman. He kissed me. He drew back enough to say, “I can taste her power in your mouth.”

  I nodded.

  He kissed me again, and this time he stayed with our mouths pressed together. He poured that warm, rising energy that was shapeshifter into me. He pushed it into me through
our mouths, his hands, our bodies. I kept my grip on my wolf, but the rest of me I gave to Richard, and gradually I could taste pine, and leaf mold, rich and thick and foresty. I smelled the musk of wolf fur. I smelled pack. I smelled home, and the last taste of jasmine vanished under the taste of Richard’s power, Richard’s wolf, and finally, at the end, simply the taste of Richard. The sweet, thick taste of his kiss. The dream ended with a kiss.

  13

  I WOKE ON the floor of Jean-Claude’s bedroom with Nathaniel staring down at me. I glanced to my right and found Richard on the floor with Micah beside him. There were guards in the room, and the smell of burning.

  Richard’s first words were, “You all right?”

  I nodded.

  His second words were, “What’s burning?”

  “The bed,” Micah said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “The cross in its bag that you have underneath your pillow got hot enough that it set the pillow on fire,” Micah said.

  “Shit,” I said.

  Claudia appeared above me with a fire extinguisher in her hands. “What the hell happened, Anita?”

  I stared up at her, and there was a lot of her to stare up at. She was one of the tallest people I’d ever met, and lifted weights in a serious fashion. Her black hair was in its usual tight ponytail, her face free of makeup, and still strikingly beautiful.

  “That bitch queen vampire came again, didn’t she?” Remus said.

  I tried to sit up, but if Nathaniel hadn’t caught me, I’d have fallen back to the floor. The last time I’d fought off the darkness, I’d been damn near killed by my own beasts trying to tear their way out of my human body. Apparently today I’d just be weak. I could live with that.

  Remus was standing scowling at the foot of the bed. He was tall, muscled, and blond, but his face was a crisscross of scars, as if he’d been badly broken and put back together again. When he was angry enough, his face mottled, and you could see the pale lines against the flushed skin of his face. He almost never made eye contact with anyone. I think because he didn’t want to see in others’ faces what they thought of his own. But when he got upset enough he’d meet your eyes, then you could see how lovely the eyes were, all green and gray with long lashes. Tonight I got a good dose of the eyes.

  I leaned into the warm curve of Nathaniel’s body and said, “Yeah, it was the Mother of All Darkness.”

  “At least your beasts aren’t trying to tear you apart this time,” Claudia said.

  “Yeah,” I said, “at least.”

  Then I felt something stirring inside me, as if something big and furred had brushed the inside of my body. “Oh, shit,” I whispered.

  Nathaniel leaned in and sniffed just above my face. “I smell something. Cat, but it’s not leopard.” He closed his eyes and breathed in deep. “It’s not lion.”

  I shook my head.

  Richard said, “She said it was a parting gift.”

  I looked inside myself, in that place where the beasts waited. There was a gleam of eyes, then a face came out of the shadows. A face the color of night and flame: tiger.

  “Oh, shit,” I said louder, “tiger.”

  “Crap,” Claudia said.

  To my knowledge there was only one weretiger in the entire St. Louis area. Christine worked as an insurance agent and was miles away. She’d never get here in time for me to share my beast with her and keep it from tearing me apart. Either Marmee Noir had decided it was time for me to finally be a shapeshifter for real, and she’d chosen tiger, or she meant to kill me. If she couldn’t have me, no one could. Possessive bitch.

  But I was better at controlling the beast than I had been the last time she tried this. I called the other animals. We could play metaphysical tag for a while, at least. The black panther looked frail compared to the great striped beast. The wolf growled and flared its ruff of fur. The tiger stared at them, waiting. The lioness came from the darkness last, almost the same size as the tiger. They were animals that should never have met in the wild, never have tried their great strengths against one another. But the inside of my body was a lot weirder than any zoo. The beasts stared at the newcomer, and we waited. By calling them all at once, I kept myself from trying to turn into any single one of them. But eventually my body would choose, and when that happened there had to be a weretiger in the room.

  “Call Christine,” Micah said. He’d helped me learn this control. He knew what I was doing.

  “Jean-Claude warned me that Anita might be collecting more kitty-cats,” Remus said, “so we went shopping.” He turned to one of the guards by the door. “Go get Soledad. We need her ASAP.”

  The man went out the door at a jog. Remus turned back to me. “She’ll do what needs doing.”

  “She’s a wererat?” I managed to say.

  “She’s pretending to be one of Rafael’s rats, but she’s a tiger. We had to promise to keep her secret before she’d agree to stay in town.”

  “She’s probably running from an arranged marriage. Tigers are weird about keeping it in the family,” Claudia said.

  “What?” I said.

  “We’ll explain later, promise,” Claudia said.

  Remus said, “Most of the solo tigers I’ve met all hide what they are really well. Most of them can even hide their energy enough to pass for human.”

  I wanted to look at Richard, but didn’t dare. Even the thought made the wolf stand up straighter and think about coming closer. Once Richard had played human for me, and I’d been fooled. I buried my face against Nathaniel’s arm, smelled his leopard, and the wolf quieted, but the leopard began to pace.

  I still didn’t have a werelion to call my own. I wasn’t even sure we had a lion in the place tonight, but I should have known that Remus and Claudia would think of it. “We better send for the lions, too,” she said.

  Remus just looked at the door. One of the other guards opened the door, then hesitated. “Which one?”

  “Travis.”

  The guard went. I would have protested the choice, but of the few lions we had he was probably one of the best. None of the local lions really appealed to me—they were too weak. My lioness didn’t want food, she wanted a mate. I’d worked hard not to give her one. Eventually she’d pick one whether I liked it or not. Or that was the prevailing theory. Since what I was doing metaphysically was pretty much impossible, it was just a theory. None of us truly knew how all this was going to turn out. I sat in Nathaniel’s arms and tried to think evenly about all the beasts. But Nathaniel was too close, and the scent of his skin too real. The leopard turned and began to pace up that corridor that led to pain.

  I gripped Nathaniel’s arm. “I can’t hold them.”

  Richard crawled to me and put his arm by my face. The musk of wolf was there, to slow the leopard and send it circling around, not trying to come out. But now the wolf paced toward the light. Not good.

  Travis got there before Soledad. His blond-brown curls were tousled from sleep, his face still not wholly awake. He was wearing the bottoms of a pair of cotton pajamas, and nothing else. They’d dragged him from bed with no time to do anything. He was a college student and I wondered briefly if his Rex, lion king, had made him stay here with us instead of going to class.

  He knelt by my legs and didn’t even react to the fact that I was nude. Either the guard had explained the problem or he could feel it. His sleepy face began to clear, and an intelligence that was both too acute and one of his best features began to fill his gold-brown eyes. He held his wrist out to me, and the lioness began to pace. The three of them played tag with my beasts. As one moved, they traded whose skin I was smelling. But it would not last; eventually my body would pick someone.

  The tiger moved up, and there was no tiger to smell. But the others distracted me, calling their beasts, keeping us playing our metaphysical musical chairs, except I was the chair.

  I waited for the tiger to try to tear me apart as the other three beasts had done periodically, but the tiger sat the
re, waiting. Wolf, leopard, lion; the three men played me like a game of tag, putting their bare skin close enough for me to smell it, touch it, and the tiger waited. Then a thing happened that had never happened before with any of the other beasts—the tiger began to fade; like some monstrous version of the Cheshire cat, it began to fade in pieces. I settled back in Nathaniel and Richard’s arms, with Travis kneeling beside us. Travis was close, but not as close as the other two. My mistake. The tiger fading had made me let my guard down. Big mistake. The leopard and wolf paced around each other. The lioness saw her opportunity and charged past them, up that long black tunnel inside me. The leopard and wolf were still circling each other. The lioness didn’t care about them. She just wanted to be real.

  Richard put his wrist near my face, but it was too late for simple measures. The lioness hit my body as if it were a wall. It felt like a small car crashed into me from the inside. The impact jerked me off the floor, tore me out of their surprised hands. My body hit the floor and they tried to cradle me, but it was too late. The lioness stretched inside my body, trying to fit all that huge cat inside me. There was no room. I was too small. The lioness was trapped, trapped in a small, dark space. She reacted like any wild animal; she tried to destroy the trap. Tried to claw and bite her way out of it. The trouble was, my body was what she was trying to tear her way out of.

  I shrieked, while the muscles in my body tried to tear themselves off my bones. You try to forget how much it hurts, and then it’s happening and you can’t forget. Can’t think, can’t be, can’t do anything but hurt!

  Weight, pressing me down, hands holding my wrists on the floor. Something pinning my lower body. I opened my eyes and found Travis above me. The lioness screamed her frustration, because she’d seen him before. She didn’t like him. She didn’t want him. Travis tried to grab my face in his hands, tried to take my beast into him, but the lioness was too close to the surface, and we agreed on one thing. Travis was weak. We didn’t want him.

  I bit him, sank teeth into his wrist. The lioness meant it to chase him away, and so did I, but the moment that hot blood spilled into my mouth, all I could taste was lion. I could taste Travis’s beast in his blood and that was enough. I looked up at him with his blood spilling out of my mouth, and I shoved my beast into him. I gave the lioness what she wanted. I gave her a body that could make her real. The lioness spilled out of me in a rush of heat and power that felt like it was taking my skin with it. I screamed, and Travis’s screams echoed mine.