"No, we will not," Asher said, "for there will be another crisis, another reason to put it off."
"I give you my word that Nathaniel, Anita, and I will sit down and talk to you about it. I can't promise for anyone else."
Asher turned that winter-blue gaze on me. "Does he speak for you?"
I nodded. "He does."
Asher turned to Jean-Claude. "And you, master?" There was a lot of sarcasm to the master.
"I will not be bound by Micah's word in all things, but on this, I will agree. We will discuss it in detail, if you but leave it alone for a little longer."
"Your word," Asher said.
Jean-Claude nodded. "You have it."
Some tension went out of Asher, almost like an energy release. The room felt lighter, the air easier to breathe. "I will behave myself." He looked at Micah. "I thank you, Micah."
"Don't thank me, Asher, you're part of Anita's life. If we're going to make this work, then we have to talk to each other."
"Always perfect, aren't you?" Richard said, and his own anger raised the heat in the room.
"No," I said, "no, no more fights. Until after I've seen the doctor this afternoon, I want every one of you to behave like a fucking adult, okay?"
Richard had the grace to look embarrassed. He nodded. "I'll try. Inheriting your temper makes it so hard not to be pissed all the time." He gave a small laugh. "If this is just a shadow of how angry you feel all the time, I'm amazed you don't just start killing things. God, such rage." He looked at me, his brown eyes full of so many emotions. "You told me once that your rage
was like my beast, and I belittled you. I told you that your anger couldn't compare to my beast, that you didn't know what you were talking about. I was wrong. God, Anita, God, you are so full of rage."
"Everyone needs a hobby," I said.
He smiled and shook his head. "You have to learn to control the rage, Anita. If you're really going to shift, you have to get a handle on the rage first." His face sobered, and he stepped close enough that he could touch my face. The moment he did, our energy jumped to him, both offering energy, and asking for it. Richard and I jerked back at the same time, because it had almost hurt, a slap of electricity.
He rubbed his hand. "Jesus, Anita."
I used my free hand to touch my face. The skin tingled where he'd touched. "I've got the shields wide open between the three of us here."
"Could you piggyback the energy of Anita's two triumvirates?" Micah asked.
"Piggyback?" Jean-Claude made it a question.
"Double the energy," I said.
"Since no one has ever before forged two triumvirates at the same time, I have no answer. The energy did respond to Richard's touch."
I rubbed my cheek. "You could say that again."
"Are you hurt?" Richard asked.
I shook my head. "Just tingling."
He nodded. "Yeah." He rubbed his hand along the side of his jeans, as if he were trying to rub off the lingering sensation.
The bathroom door opened. London walked out, fully clothed now, adjusting his black-on-black tie. Except that his eyes were still drowning black with power, he looked like he always did. He stopped and looked at us all, because we were looking at him. His face was arrogant, his version of blank. I stared at him, and it didn't seem quite real that we'd had sex. He'd never really been on my guy radar, and now he was food. Funny damn world.
"Where is everyone?" His voice was coldly arrogant, and didn't match the words at all.
"The guards asked to leave," I said, "and truthfully, I don't remember when everyone else left."
London walked along the edge of the bed without looking at me. He was back to his cold, isolated self, as if the sex had never happened. He almost made it around the bed, but his foot tangled in the covers on the floor, and down he went. His arm caught at the bed, and he brought himself up to his knees. He peered at us over the bed, like a cat that's just fallen off something, and is trying to pretend it meant to do that.
He got to his feet, leaning on the bed. He jerked the fallen coverlet to one side, then kicked at it repeatedly, hands on the bed to steady himself. He kicked at the coverlet as if it were some kind of enemy that he had to vanquish. When the floor was clear enough for him, he smoothed his clothes again, then started walking carefully around the bed. His shoulder clipped the bedpost, and he fell into the bed again. This time he managed to sit on it, and not end up on the floor, but he didn't try to get up again either. He sat there on the bed, his black-suited back very straight. He kept looking at the far wall.
"You're drunk," I said.
He nodded without turning around. "Not precisely, but drunk will do as a description."
Jean-Claude walked around the bed until he was standing in front of the other man. He stared down at him, and I couldn't tell if London met his gaze, or not. "How do you feel?" he asked him at last.
Someone giggled, a high, almost hysterical sound. It was a moment before I realized it was London. He fell back on the bed with his arms wide, and his legs hanging off the edge. He lay there all black and stark against the pale sheets, giggling. The giggling turned into laughter. He gave himself to the laughter, as he'd given himself to the ardeur. The laughter was a good clean laugh, a good sound, but none of us joined him, because London did not laugh. This was not the Dark Knight with his love of shadows and dislike of everything else. This laughing, pleasant man on the bed was someone we'd never seen before.
Tears trailed from his eyes, faintly pink with blood like all vampire tears. He rolled his head back so he could see me. "I wanted to hide it from you, but I never could hide it."
"Hide what?" I asked, and my voice sounded almost afraid.
"How good the ardeur feels. Belle said once that she'd never known anyone who fed the ardeur as well as I did, or addicted to it as quickly." The laughter faded from his eyes, leaving them desolate. From such joy, to such loss, in a blink of his eyes.
"Are you addicted once more, mon ami?" Jean-Claude asked.
He turned his head to look at Jean-Claude. "I do not know for certain, but most likely, oui, I am." He sounded neither happy nor sad about it. He was almost matter-of-fact.
"God, London, I'm sorry," I said.
Damian tried to sit up, but Nathaniel and I had to help him, so that he was propped up between us. "I'm sorry, as well."
London curled himself on the bed so he was lying on his side, and could
see us. "Don't be sorry, I feel better than I've felt in centuries." He closed his eyes, and drew a shivering breath. "I feel so warm, so... alive."
I remembered when the ardeur was searching for food, how he'd hit the radar. So powerful, but more than that. "The ardeur recognized you as the tasty power in the room. Is it because you were addicted to it once?"
"Requiem was addicted once," London said. "Did he seem tasty, too?"
"Not as yummy as you, no."
"Belle said that my power is to feed the ardeur. To use a modernism, I am a battery for it."
"If you are such a good feed, then why doesn't Damian feel better?" Nathaniel asked.
"I did not mean to, but I think I drank a great deal of the energy myself. It was like being lost in the desert for years, and suddenly seeing a river, running cool and deep. My skin soaked it up, I couldn't stop it. I kept most of the energy, and I'm sorry for that."
"No you're not," Nathaniel said, his voice soft, but certain.
London laughed, an abrupt, happy sound. "You're right, I'm not. I knew it would be enough energy to keep Damian alive, and beyond that I didn't care." He curled all that tall, strong frame into a ball, and looked at me with a face more uncertain than anything I'd ever seen from London. "I am at your mercy. I tried to hide how much it meant to me, but I cannot. I could never hide it from Belle either. She tortured me with it." He gazed up at me with those lost eyes, and said, "Will you torture me, Anita? Will you make me beg for another taste?"
My pulse was suddenly in my throa
t, not from passion, but from fear. The proud, scary London was curled on a bed staring up at me with a look I'd only seen in Nathaniel's eyes. I knew that look. It said, You can do anything you want to do, just keep me. I'll do anything you want, just keep me.
Ronnie had always been able to find men to have a nice uncomplicated fuck with. Me, I seemed to be running a home for amazingly complicated men. As for a nice uncomplicated fuck, I wouldn't have known one if it bit me on the ass.
34
BY TWO FORTY-FIVE we were in a maternity room at St. John's hospital. If I'd been further along someone might have called it a birthing room, but not in front of me, not if they wanted to live. To say that I was not happy to be there was an understatement of amazingly gigantic proportions.
Dr. North had taken one look at the crowd with me, and managed a private room for the exam. Or maybe he'd known me well enough to arrange it ahead of time. The room had pink flowered wallpaper, and all the furniture tried to be homey, or at least to pretend we were in a nice hotel. All except the bed. The bed was nicer than most, but it still had railings, and one of those trays on wheels at the foot of it. It was still a hospital bed no matter how dolled-up the surroundings might be.
I wasn't lying in the bed. I was pacing the room, because we were waiting for the blood test results. We'd find out in minutes just how bad the news was going to be.
Micah was in a chair in the corner, staying out of my way. Smart man. We had two werelions with us, one standing quietly against a wall, and the other in the room's only other chair, reading. Joseph had shown up with six werelions for me to choose from. Joseph seriously didn't like Haven, Auggie's lion, and was hoping I'd pick other, less dominant lions to play with. Okay by me. But how do you choose from relative strangers? How do you choose the ones who will at the very least let you change them, violently, into their animal forms. How do you trust that they won't fight you?
Joseph assured me and Jean-Claude, "I picked submissives, as I discussed with Jean-Claude. I think they'll be like Nathaniel was for you once, for the ardeur."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I'd asked.
"I think you'll be able to feed the ardeur from them without full sexual contact. If I understand how the ardeur works, it's only dominance and power that keeps you from feeding from a kiss."
"That's the theory," I said.
They all seemed soft and unfinished and too fragile for my life, but I chose two of them. Travis and Noel; blondish and brunette respectively. Travis was a business major and Noel an English major. Noel wore glasses and had a test Monday. He'd brought books to study. Travis just brought himself.
Noel was reading for his test and ignoring everything around him. Travis was watching everything with those pale brown eyes of his. He watched the way cops watch, as if he were memorizing everything. He seemed particularly interested in Richard.
My bodyguard shift had changed over, so Claudia and Lisandro were in the far corner near the door, doing that bodyguard casual that was almost a slump, but not quite. If either of them had ever been military or police, it never showed. They were just bad-asses, and that was enough. There were two more guards outside the room, by the door, which Dr. North had objected to, but Claudia had looked at him hard, and he'd okayed it. One of the guards outside the door was Graham, the other a werehyena that I didn't know. Ixion was his name, though he said it like he hated it, and hadn't had it long. Narcissus had more fun than he should have, passing out names to some of his new men. Ixion was so ex-military that he still had the haircut, and looked uncomfortable in civilian clothes.
We didn't really need four bodyguards, but it was the only way Claudia could see to get us a wolf who would shift for me at the hospital if I needed it, without letting Richard know that none of us trusted him to take my beast in an emergency. Graham was my wolf in the hole, so to speak, and Ixion got to come along because Claudia preferred all the guards to be in pairs. If we were pretending, we had to make it good pretend.
"You're going to wear yourself out, Anita," Richard said.
"Then I'll wear myself out," I snapped, and knew that I snapped, and didn't have nerves left to care.
He pushed away from the wall, and walked toward me. He reached out, as if he'd hug me, or comfort me.
"Don't," I said, and kept walking until the window made me stop and turn around.
"I just want to help, Anita," he said.
"Pacing helps," I said, not looking at him. Why couldn't he understand that I just wanted to be left the fuck alone? Micah understood it. Nathaniel had wanted to come, but shapeshifting so early had exhausted him. Once you hit animal form you usually spend between six and eight hours in it; if you shift back early it comes with a price. If he was going to be any good
tonight he needed rest. I'd left him tucked in with Damian, so they could both feel better before nightfall.
Richard touched my shoulder as I went past. I jerked away from him and kept on walking. If we could have figured out a way to bring Damian with me, we would have. He helped me be calm, and I needed it. But vampires do not travel well in daylight.
"If you don't calm down," Richard said, "you may call your beast. You don't want that, not here."
I stopped and glared at him. "It would take care of the problem though, wouldn't it?"
"You don't mean that," he said.
"The hell I don't."
"Ulfric." It was Travis, from his corner of the wall.
Richard turned to him.
"Ulfric, she's burning off her nervous energy by pacing."
"I know that," Richard said in a less than friendly voice.
"If you make her stop pacing, then where will the energy go?"
Richard opened his mouth, shut it, and nodded. "You've made your point. I guess it's making me nervous to watch her pace."
"Then don't watch," Travis said, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
Richard drew a deep breath, and said, "I'm going to get some air. I'll be right outside, I promise."
I paused in the pacing to say, "I know you will."
He nodded, and he walked out. When the door was shut behind him, Travis said, "Thank God. One of you that nervous is enough for a room this size."
I looked at him. "Is Richard that nervous?"
Micah laughed. "Yes."
I hugged my arms tight. "I guess I'm so nervous that I didn't notice."
"You're entitled to be nervous," Claudia said from near the door.
I nodded, but not like I believed it. There was a knock on the door. I jumped, and turned toward the door, my fingers digging into my own arms. I wasn't hugging myself now, I was clinging, as if my fingernails were digging into that last piece of rock ledge before you fall screaming into the abyss.
Graham opened the door enough to stick his head in, and said, "The doctor is here."
"Let him in," Claudia said, and her voice held tension. Was I making everyone crazy with nerves?
Dr. North came in, with a glance at Ixion, still by the door. "Your men are making the nurses and patients a little nervous. Could they come in the room?"
I looked at Claudia. She was the one in charge. She nodded, and sent Lisandro to open the door and invite Graham and Ixion inside. Graham just found a piece of wall to hold up. He gave me a nervous smile that I think was meant to be comforting. Ixion scowled at die entire room, and didn't seem to know where to stand. The room was getting a little crowded.
"The window, Ixion," Claudia said. "Not everything that hunts us comes through doors." We weren't really in that much danger from direct attack, but it gave the man somewhere to stand that was far away from the bed and whatever we'd be doing. Though if there was a pelvic exam coming up, then everyone who couldn't be the father was leaving.
When Ixion had settled against the window, Dr. North looked around the room. "Do you want this discussed in front of everyone?"
"You just had me bring two extra people inside, doc."
He smiled. "I mean,
maybe you'd want some of them to go to the cafeteria."
I sighed, and shook my head. How could I explain that if the news was bad enough I might need one, or all, of my support staff? I couldn't, so I didn't. "Just spit it out, doc, okay? The suspense is getting to me."
He nodded, adjusted his glasses. The door opened behind him, and Richard came in. "Did I miss anything?"
I shook my head.
"Anita," Dr. North said, "you're going to bleed if you don't stop digging your nails into your arms."
I stared down at my hands as if they'd just appeared at the end of my arms. My fingers were stiff with tension when I peeled them away from my arms. Little half moons from my fingernails decorated my skin. Almost blood, almost.
Richard offered me his hand. I hesitated, then took it. The energy spiked between us; we were both too nervous to be of much help to each other. He shut down, shielded up, and his hand was just warm and real in my hand. I appreciated the effort on his part, after he'd seen what I'd done to my own arms, but I finally lost the battle not to look behind me at Micah. I was too scared to play to anyone's ego. Too scared not to want to wrap myself in as much comfort as I could find.
Micah came to my other hand. Richard stiffened, not wanting it, and not able to hide that he didn't want it, but he didn't throw a fit. I squeezed his hand, and bumped my head against his shoulder to let him know how much the effort meant to me, because it did. It really did. The extra attention
earned me a smile, that smile that brightened his whole face. The smile that once I'd have given my heart to see.
I turned back to the doctor, clinging to both of them, and feeling better for it. I'd have liked to play it cool, but I clung to their hands as if they were the last pieces of wood in a drowning ocean.
"I had them run the blood work a second time, Anita."
"That can't be good," I said.
"Is this where you ask her to sit down?" Claudia asked.
Dr. North glanced at her. "She can sit down if she wants." He turned back to me, with a smile. "Do you want to sit down?"
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