“Define flesh,” I said.
“Sex,” he said.
Richard shifted beside me on the couch. “The rats don’t give blood to anyone. It was one of your first rules as king. Nikolaos tortured you because you forbade your rats to feed her vampires.”
“She was unstable, and farther away from her was safer for my people. Closer to Jean-Claude seems safer.”
“You’d really let your rats be blood whores?” Richard sounded almost shocked.
“I would.”
“You think that if some of your rats come into our bedrooms, your people will be that much safer?” Micah asked.
“If our positions were reversed, what would you do?”
“Not this,” Richard said.
“I am asking the Nimir-Raj,” Rafael said.
Richard shifted uncomfortably on one side of me while Micah seemed to settle back more comfortably. “I’ve already done what you’re suggesting.”
Rafael nodded. “You offered yourself to Anita and Jean-Claude and now your pard, though one of the smallest groups in the area, is one of the most secure groups in all of St. Louis. How many of your leopards donate blood to the vampires?”
“Most of them.”
Rafael spread his hands, as if to say, See?
I wanted to argue with them, but I tried to be honest. Was his reasoning sound? Through us, Micah was in charge of the furry coalition hotline, which meant he was beginning to be the go-to guy for most of the lycanthropy community. He was the liaison between us and the larger community. His television time was even going up. He gave good sound bite.
The leopards had fewer members than almost any other group, yet no one messed with them. Because I, or Jean-Claude, or our people, kept killing anyone who fucked with them.
I looked at the rat king. “Damn,” I said, softly.
“Yes,” he said.
I glanced down the couch at Richard and Jean-Claude. “He’s not wrong, is he?”
“I cannot argue with some of his reasoning,” Jean-Claude said.
“No,” Richard said, “he’s not right.”
“I didn’t say he was right, Richard, just that he’s not wrong,” I said.
“That makes no sense. If Rafael isn’t wrong, then he has to be right.” Richard turned his body so he was facing me, and blocked my view of Jean-Claude—those broad shoulders of his getting in the way.
“He’s right that our lovers are safer. He’s wrong if he thinks we’d leave the rats out to dry if someone threatened them.”
“You are tied to us only by money and contracts,” Rafael said. “I would feel better if you were tied with more intimate things.”
“You have our word that we will honor our treaty with you,” Jean-Claude said.
“But you have a treaty with the hyenas, as well, and I do not believe that Asher will keep refusing the bounty that Narcissus is shoving at him.”
“Do not make the mistake of thinking Asher is weak. He is not,” Jean-Claude said.
“You are in love with him; you do not see him clearly.”
“I could say to you that you are not in love with him, and you do not see him clearly because of it.”
“Order him not to be intimate with the hyenas and I will be content with it.”
“I would rather not give such an order,” Jean-Claude said.
“You have no right to ask that of Jean-Claude, or Asher,” Micah said.
“What would you do if you were me, Nimir-Raj?”
“I would have offered myself less confrontationally. If refused, I’d have offered others of my people until some became food and hopefully one, or more, would catch someone’s eye for sex.”
“Am I going about this wrong?”
“Yes.”
“It is an area of politics I am unprepared for,” Rafael said. “Teach me, Micah. Help me.”
Micah sighed. He scooted to the edge of the couch and looked past Richard to Jean-Claude. “What do you want me to do?”
“Help him, if you can.”
Micah leaned back and looked at me. He just looked at me, and the look was enough between us. I shrugged and said, “Help him, I guess.”
Micah settled back against the couch and put an arm across my shoulders, which made Richard move a little farther away. I don’t think Micah meant to make Richard move. I think he wanted to touch me, and after last night there’d been the possibility that Richard wouldn’t mind an accidental touch. But apparently Rafael’s issues had raised some of Richard’s own. Hell, it had raised some of mine. I just wasn’t sure which ones yet.
“Blood donors would be welcome,” Micah said, “and some of your rats have already offered to feed the ardeur for Anita.”
“But she has touched none of them,” Rafael said.
“You haven’t sent her anyone she likes enough, yet.”
“Help me pick them.”
“Guys,” I said, “guys, I am still sitting right here, okay? Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.”
“Then you pick,” he said.
I slumped and let my hair hide my face. Shit. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“She likes pretty men,” Richard said, “and that’s not what you hire for.”
I looked up at him, sitting right beside me, talking about what kind of man I liked. “I thought you’d be having a fit about this,” I said.
He frowned, but said, “I don’t like it, but Rafael is right, about us keeping our lovers closer and safer.”
“If you care for someone enough to have sex with them, then you’re supposed to take care of them,” I said.
“Exactly,” Richard said. “It’s how you feel about it.”
“And what’s wrong with the way I feel about it?”
“Nothing,” he said, “but it means Rafael is right. You do take care of your lovers. You just do.”
“Don’t you?” I asked.
He looked surprised for a second, then gave a smile that left his eyes tired and more cynical than I’d ever seen him. “No, sometimes it’s just about fucking.”
I gave him wide eyes.
“I’d love it to always be hearts and flowers, but the one woman I love more than any other doesn’t want me, so what am I supposed to do while you sleep with six or seven other guys? Wait my turn? Watch?”
We had company, or I might have pointed out to him that he had watched before, and he had waited his turn, and he’d even helped Jean-Claude make love to me. But we had company, and I didn’t want to fight with him.
“So you don’t take care of everyone that comes to your bed?”
“I take care of my wolves, but if they aren’t pack, sometimes the sex proves that it won’t work.”
“So you break up with them after the sex?”
“Sometimes.”
I gave him a look.
“You know who I keep comparing them to, Anita.”
It wasn’t my fault that I didn’t want to marry Richard. I was allowed to want the men I wanted, and love who I wanted. “So it’s my fault that you’re sleeping around, and that you’ve turned into one of those men who break up with a woman after one night of sex?”
He gave me a long look out of those chocolate-brown eyes. “If the shoe fits…,” he said, with an unpleasant smile.
I guess we were going to fight after all. “It isn’t me you keep comparing everybody to, Richard, it’s Raina.”
He actually blushed under the permanent tan of his skin. It was maybe the second time I’d ever seen him blush. “Don’t, Anita.”
Micah had gone very still beside me, as if he were wondering if he should take his arm out from between us.
“You back off of me, and I’ll back off of you,” I said.
“Richard,” it was Louie, “we had this talk, remember?”
Richard stood up, and his power washed around the room like a wind from the mouth of hell. It actually hurt where it touched. “I remember the talk.” He stared down at me, and there was such hatred on his face. “I t
ried last night, Anita, I really tried.”
My throat was tight, and my eyes burned. I was already regretting what I’d said, would have done anything to take it back. “I know you did, Richard.” My voice sounded small.
“But it’s never enough, is it?”
I took a deep breath and stood up. We faced each other. I wanted to run away, but I stood there and watched the hate and pain on his face, the way his big hands kept flexing into fists. His anger breathed through the room like some sort of invisible burning beast.
“I don’t know what to say, Richard.”
“What would be enough?” he asked.
“What?” I asked.
“What would be enough? Move in with you and Micah and Nathaniel? Move in here with you and Jean-Claude? What do I have to do to win with you, Anita?”
“It isn’t about winning, Richard. God, don’t you understand that?”
“No,” he said, “I don’t.” He pointed at Jean-Claude. “Him I get. I feel his pull, too. He’s my master, too.” He pointed at Micah. “But him, I don’t get him. He’s in my place in your life, don’t you understand that?”
I nodded, and tried to breathe past the tight burning in my throat and eyes. I would not cry, damn it. “I understand that,” I said.
He pointed at Nathaniel, who’d gone very still beside the couch. “How can you share her with that?”
It was Micah who figured out that he was the one Richard was talking to. “Nathaniel is not a that, Richard.” Micah’s voice held a thread of anger.
“Do you fuck him? Do you let him fuck you? Or do you just fuck Anita at the same time?”
The unshed tears were going away on a hot wave of anger. I fed the anger, embraced it, called it sweet names, because I’d rather fight than cry.
“The way you and Jean…,” I started to say.
Jean-Claude called the fight. He called it with a push of power that staggered both of us. I nearly fell, and Richard looked ashen. We both turned and looked at the vampire. His eyes were glittering blue pools, like the night sky was on fire.
“Enough of this.” His voice whispered through the room like an echo of bats, bouncing off the curtains.
I knew he was our master, but I’d never felt him do anything like this to us. Never felt him simply throw his power into us and stop us in our tracks. I hadn’t known he had it in him.
“We are in danger here, do you not understand that? Most of our guards are wererats. If Rafael pulls them out, we do not have enough guards to keep ourselves safe.” He uncurled from the couch and walked toward us, his long black curls moving in the wind of his own power.
We watched him come toward us like small birds that wanted to fly from the snake, but couldn’t make ourselves move.
“I am sorry, mon lupe, that you wish her to marry you and abandon the rest of us. I am sorry, ma petite, that you still love him, and that some part of you wishes you could do exactly what he wants. I am sorry that I have bound you together into such pain. But there is no time for this. We need Rafael and his people. He knows that, or he would not have come like this.” Jean-Claude stood in front of us, and his power pushed so that I swayed in the wind of it. I knew he’d gained in power, but I hadn’t understood, until that moment, just how much. “I will pick a blood donor among the rats. I will urge others of my vampires to do the same. You, ma petite, must choose one of his people for food. You must embrace Sampson, or do something for him that will allow his honor to step aside and let you take one of the wererats ahead of him as food for your ardeur.”
He stopped in front of us, close enough that he could have touched us. For the first time in years, I prayed that he wouldn’t touch me. If he did, I’d do anything he asked.
He touched Richard’s arm, and he shuddered under that light touch. He closed his eyes and swayed. I touched Richard’s other arm, and I thought, No. No, don’t do this.
My necromancy opened inside me in a rush that left me wide-eyed, open-mouthed. Because it wasn’t just my necromancy. I felt it like an offering to Jean-Claude. If he could figure out how to use it, it was his to command while he touched us.
Richard breathed, “Don’t, please, don’t.”
I wasn’t sure which of us he was talking to. I stared at Jean-Claude, and felt my eyes go. I saw the room through that vampiric flame, but it wasn’t someone else’s powers taking over my eyes, it was me. If there’d been a mirror I knew my eyes would have been filled with a black-brown light of my own eyes, as if I were the vampire.
Richard collapsed to his knees between us, with our hands still on his arms. He whispered, “Oh, God.” I looked down at him, and he gazed up at me with eyes turned to brown flame. Not my fire taking over him, but his own true brown eyes turned to vampire fire.
21
RICHARD WAS STARING at himself in the bathroom mirror. His big hands clung to the marble sink edge as if he were trying to leave an imprint of his hands on the stone. I’d tried to be comforting. I’d tried to be reassuring. Nothing I said had helped. Jean-Claude had been with us, but Richard truly didn’t want to talk to him. He seemed to blame Jean-Claude for this new sign that his humanity was slipping away.
“The glow will fade, Richard,” I said, not for the first time. Since he wouldn’t let me touch him, I was left to lean against the far side of the sink and wall, arms crossed under my breasts. I’d already checked on my bra that was hanging by the towels. It was still too wet to wear.
He shook his head. “This is what my eyes would look like if I were the vampire.”
I wasn’t sure it was a question, but I answered it anyway. “Yes.”
He looked at me, and it was unsettling to see his tanned and very alive face set with eyes that I’d only seen in the faces of the undead. It didn’t match, that life and those eyes. His fear came off him in waves, so that his power bit and flitted against my skin like hot ash from a windy fire.
“You’re not afraid of this. Why, why aren’t you afraid of this?” he asked.
I shrugged and tried to put into words something I was trying not to think about. “I’m treating this the way I treat an emergency in the middle of a police investigation, Richard. You don’t get too hung up on the horrible details or you stop being able to function. You keep moving forward, because you have to.”
“This isn’t your job, Anita. This isn’t my job!” The air was suddenly close and hot. I was bathed in his power, and it was hard to breathe past it. The wolf that was always inside me now, stirred.
“You’re going to raise my wolf, Richard.”
He looked away from me, and nodded. “Mine, too.”
The wolf began to pad up that metaphorical corridor inside me. I shivered and started to back away toward the door. I needed out of this hot bath of power. “You’re the Ulfric, Richard. Control yourself.”
He turned and looked at me through a curtain of his own thick hair. His eyes were still glowing, but now they were wolf amber, like twin suns in his face. A low, threatening growl trickled from his lips.
“Richard,” and it was a whisper.
“I could make you change,” he said in a voice that was more growl than word.
“What?” I whispered.
“I can force my wolves to shift. I can smell your wolf, Anita. I can smell her.”
I swallowed a lump that hurt and bumped into the door. It made me jump. I hadn’t realized I was that close to it. I reached back for the knob, and Richard was suddenly there, towering over me. I hadn’t seen him move. Had I closed my eyes for a second? Had he played with my mind? Or had he just been that quick?
His power pressed against me like a hot mattress, like I was being suffocated by it. I managed to breathe out his name. “Richard, please.”
He leaned over me, lowered that handsome face with those sun-drenched eyes to my face. “Please what? Please stop, or please don’t stop?”
I shook my head; I couldn’t get enough air to speak. My wolf hit the surface of my body and the impact of it drove me off
my feet. Richard caught me, hands on my arms, kept me on my feet. The wolf inside me started digging; it wanted out!
I tried to scream, and it was as if with every breath I was breathing in more of Richard’s power. He jerked me off my feet, wrapped me against his body. I could feel something moving low in my stomach; I swear I could feel the wolf’s claws digging through my flesh, trying to meet Richard’s body. It was trying to get to him, trying to answer the call of its Ulfric.
The pain was incredible; it was like being ripped apart from the navel outward, like some horrible parody of giving birth. I screamed, not with air, but with my mind. I sent every metaphysical ability I had, and screamed for help.
I heard voices shouting on the other side of the door, but it was as if voices didn’t mean anything to me anymore. As if it were just noise. But I could smell Richard’s skin, smell the musk of the wolf inside him. He lowered his face to mine, and I smelled my skin through his mind. Soap, shampoo, the hair-care product, but underneath that was me, my skin, my scent. He drew a sharper breath, cupping his hand against my skin so the scent blew back into his face. He drew it in as if it were the sweetest of perfumes; wolf. I smelled of wolf, and forest, and pack.
The door shuddered against my back. Something heavy thudded against it. Richard picked me up, arms around my thighs, putting my upper body by his face. He didn’t ask in words; he asked with his eyes, with his power, with that smell of wolf. He asked me to come to him. He called to that part of me that had stopped scratching, and was listening, smelling him. He called to the wolf inside me, in ways that my human brain couldn’t even begin to understand. I was still too human to answer him in the way he wanted. Still too human, still too…human.
But the wolf wasn’t human, and it answered him. It threw itself against the wall of my body, as if I were a door and all it had to do was get through it. It threw itself against my flesh, so that it staggered Richard backward into the room as he tried to hold me, while the wolf tore at me. His power pressed down my throat like a hand that was trying to help the beast, and stole my air, my words.
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