Danse Macabre ab-14

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Danse Macabre ab-14 Page 45

by Laurell K. Hamilton


  "What did you mean?" I asked.

  "That he doesn't have a modest bone in his body."

  I actually didn't agree with that, but Auggie didn't deserve the explanation that went with it, so I let it lie. "You're entitled to your opinion."

  "Which means you don't agree with me," Auggie said.

  "It means what I said."

  Auggie shifted his gaze to Micah. He looked at him, looked at him the way that men usually reserve for women. Like he was wondering what Micah would look like without his clothes.

  "Here I stand all naked, and you're not even looking at me," Nathaniel said. "Should I be insulted?" He moved a few steps ahead of Micah, tossing all that heavy auburn hair over his shoulders, so his body was framed by it. He stood there and gazed at the vampire. He gazed at him from those laven­der eyes, with that beautiful body.

  "Maybe I like a little modesty, too," Auggie said.

  Nathaniel moved his muscular arms to cover himself, let the hair spill over one shoulder, so that more of him was hidden. He peeked coyly around his own body and hair, gave innocent eyes, let his face be as young as it was in years. I was never sure how he did it, but he could play the innocent down to his toes. He could hide those jaded eyes, and play the ingenue.

  Auggie laughed, that bright, happy laugh. "He's good." He turned to Jean-Claude. "Where did you find so many beautiful men?"

  "I didn't," he said.

  He looked past Nathaniel to me. "Anita, you have a true eye for talent."

  "They aren't talent to me. They're people I care about, and I don't like games."

  He motioned to Nathaniel. "This one plays games, and very well, I think."

  I nodded. "Nathaniel likes games better than I do, better than Micah does, but he doesn't play them with us."

  Auggie gave me a look that seemed to imply I was being naive. "Once a hustler, always a hustler, Anita."

  "Was that meant to be mean?" I asked.

  "I thought you liked honesty," he said.

  "It was meant to be mean," Micah said.

  "I know whore when I see it, because I was one. So was Jean-Claude, and Asher, and Requiem, and London. Mustn't leave out the ladies: Elinore, Cardinal, anyone who was ever Belle's line was a whore. We're created to be whores."

  "Nathaniel is not a whore," I said, and reached for him. He pulled away from the touch, and gave me eyes full of loss. "I was."

  "You researched us, before you came here," Micah said.

  "You bet," Auggie said.

  I touched Nathaniel's face, and tried to put into my eyes how much he meant to me. Whatever he saw in my face made him smile, a little. He pressed his hand over mine, pressing my hand against the curve of his jaw.

  Micah stepped in front of us both. "You knew looking at me like that would be an insult. Nathaniel stepped up, took the attention, because it wouldn't bother him. Something about him protecting me bothered you. Why?"

  Jean-Claude raised his head, curled his legs over each other in a way that let you know just how flexible he was, but still managed to be "ladylike," for lack of a better word. "I know why."

  I put one arm across Nathaniel's back, and asked, "Why?"

  Jean-Claude and Auggie exchanged a look. "If you think you can read me that well, go ahead," Auggie said.

  Jean-Claude gave a small nod, then looked at us. "Augustine prefers women to men, but one would have to be very, very heterosexual indeed to ignore the beauty of both of you. In his defense, you did fall into his lap. He behaved himself admirably. There are vampires among our own kiss who would not have shown his restraint. He offered such a small insult, and you took it as a large one. Anita and I are not falling over each other to profess our love for him, and that irks him. It puzzles him. Then you, who are ani­mal, thus lesser in the eyes of most vampires, insult him, too. But I think it is more than that." He looked at Auggie. "I think he watched Nathaniel use the only gift he had to protect Micah. Did it bring back old memories, Au­gustine? Bad memories?" He leaned in toward the other man.

  Auggie stood up, abruptly, and wouldn't look at him. "My memories are my own." Then he realized what he'd said, and gave a bitter laugh. "For now, at least, until she dictates otherwise." He wasn't referring to me.

  Jean-Claude lay back on the couch, spreading his hair over the arm of it, one arm carelessly above his head, the other across his stomach. One bare foot trailed over the carpet; the other was tucked up on the couch, his knee leaning against the back of the white couch. He looked fetching, and he knew it. But it was the way Auggie watched him that made the show. There was real anguish in his eyes. It hurt me to see his face like that.

  "You give me another taste of heaven, and now I am in purgatory again. You, and she"—and he pointed at me—"can bring me into heaven at a whim, and cast me into hell if it is your will." He closed his eyes, his face etched with pain. "I remembered you as gentler than this, Jean-Claude. I remem­bered you as my friend."

  "Friends do not use their powers against each other. You woke ma petite'i, ardeur, deliberately. You meant to have her. The fact that we both had you

  was an accident of power. You remembered me gentler, and less powerful. You underestimated me, and you have mistaken ma petite."

  Auggie opened his eyes, and stared at the other vampire. "I don't under­stand what you mean by that."

  "Ask our Nathaniel how he won her heart."

  "I see his body; I know how he won her heart."

  "You see nothing, know nothing," Jean-Claude said. "Mon minet, tell him how you won her heart."

  "You call him 'my pussycat' and I'm wrong about him?" Auggie said.

  Nathaniel leaned a little harder against the hand I had on his naked back. "I didn't hustle Anita," Nathaniel said.

  "But you tried." Auggie made it a statement.

  Nathaniel nodded. "I wanted her to want me. I didn't know any other way to do that."

  "It worked," Auggie said.

  Nathaniel glanced back at me, gave me a smile, then turned back to Aug­gie. "No, it didn't."

  He motioned at us all. "Of course it worked."

  "Only when I stopped trying to hustle her, and just tried to learn how to love her."

  "Learn how to love her, you make it sound like a class, or a degree. You simply love people."

  Nathaniel laughed. Jean-Claude made a noise like he was trying not to laugh. I looked at Micah. "Aren't you going to laugh, too?"

  Micah shook his head. "I know better." Though there was the edge of a smile on his lips.

  I scowled at them all. "Fine, laugh it up."

  "I don't get the joke either," Auggie said.

  "You will," Micah said, and it sounded like a threat.

  "Is it really that hard to date me?"

  This time Claudia and some of the other bodyguards laughed. I was just amusing the hell out of everyone.

  40

  TELL ME THE joke, I could use the laugh." Travis's voice came from the far hallway. His face was tight and pinched with pain. Noel hovered beside him like he was waiting to catch him if he stumbled. They both still looked too young to drive. Was it just age that had made Joseph pick them for my feedings, or was there some other reason? I mean, there's submissive and then there's cannon fodder. Everyone he'd offered for my selection, even the jocks, had that new-car smell, like they hadn't been driven around the block enough. There had to be a reason he'd offered me lambs when what I needed was lions.

  "Why haven't you shifted?" Micah asked. He was already moving across the living room toward them, walking past Auggie. The vampire reached out, tried to grab his arm. Micah moved so fast that I didn't really see Auggie try to grab him, and miss. I saw the vampire reach out, and Micah just wasn't where he was reaching. So fast, it was like magic. Micah went to the werelions, and started talking to them in a low voice. He ig­nored the vampire.

  Auggie looked angry, and something else, something that was almost pain. "You've made your point, Jean-Claude."

  "Micah does not like to be grab
bed, that is all the point that has been made," Jean-Claude said, voice mild. He was still lounging decoratively on the couch. "Do you envy me my cats, Augustine?"

  "I don't envy anyone."

  Even I could taste the lie.

  Micah started leading the werelions toward the love seat. He stopped well out of reach, and looked at Auggie. "I really don't want to play games, Au­gustine. I just want to get Travis sitting down."

  "If you were in my territory, I'd have to make a lesson of it, of you, but you aren't my kitty-cat. Sit down, I won't bother you."

  Micah walked wide round the vampire, but gave him his back. His eyes flicked to me, and I realized he was trusting my reaction to let him know

  what Auggie was doing. I nodded, like, it's okay. Micah led die two lions to the love seat.

  "Petty games do not become you, Augustine. You are master of a power­ful territory. You could have your own collection of lovers, to rival mine." He left the implication that we were all his lovers, and we let it slide. I was his lover, and neither of die other men was bothered by the rumors.

  "I'm not just Master of the City of Chicago, Jean-Claude, I'm a mob boss. The mob allows you a family with a wife and kids, a mistress, whores, but nothing else."

  Jean-Claude luxuriated against the couch arm. "You could never let any of them see you looking at me as you do right this moment."

  Auggie shook his head. "If you were a whore or a hustler, I'd have to kill you if diey saw me look at you this way."

  "But your rivals cannot see you now. You can look at me any way you like."

  "Fuck you, Jean-Claude, you're going to use this look on my face to pun­ish me, and try to control me. It's just another kind of gun at my head."

  "We are master vampires, we are all about control, but I do not intend to punish you, unless you punish us first."

  "What does that mean?"

  "It means, if you are cruel to us, we will be cruel in return. If you play nicely, then so will we."

  "Define play nicely," I said.

  "When you saw the look of pain on his face, did it not make your heart ache, ma petite?"

  I wanted to lie, but... "Yeah."

  The look of cynicism on Auggie's face flickered, as if he didn't know what look would help, or what look he dared give.

  "But, so what? Thanks to his machinations, I don't want to see him hurt­ing, so what?"

  "Augustine could come and visit us. His mob connections could think he was trying to woo us for criminal activities, or just that he was solidify­ing his alliance with us, one master to another. Either way, he could visit us periodically without arousing suspicions. Since he is a known mob fig­ure, it would explain why the visits would have to be out of the media's so-glaring eye."

  Auggie watched the other vampire like a mouse that's had the cat tell him I won't eat you, today. Half hopeful, half afraid to hope. "What are you offer­ing, Jean-Claude?"

  "One, that you do not try to make things worse for ma petite. Do not try to raise her ardeur, or mine, against our will. Do not abuse my hospitality by using your powers on my people."

  "I apologized for that," he said.

  "You made a joke of your apology," Jean-Claude said. "I need to know if you are sincere."

  Auggie nodded. "I am sorry, but..." He looked away, his hands in fists. "You don't understand what it's like to be on the receiving end of the ardeur. You gained the ardeur almost from the first moment. It awoke with your blood lust. You've never been its victim."

  "Not true," Jean-Claude said. He sat up, suddenly, brisk and almost busi­nesslike. "Ma petite can feed the ardeur from me, as I can feed my ardeur from her. We can be the victim of each other's ardeurs."

  "I'm sorry, I know that. I know that you were as much enthralled by Belle as any. But still, you can feed the ardeur, and gain the rush of it. I have noth­ing unless I can find a partner who carries it. I had hoped that one, or both, of you would love me, truly love me, truly want me. I'd hoped to bargain love for die ardeur, and now I watch you both." Again, he looked away, as if he couldn't stand to look at either of us. "And you are not moved by me. You, Jean-Claude, you watch as Belle used to watch me. She"—he pointed at me—"she watches me like she hates me. So cold, so angry. I don't under­stand it. Did my power work on her, or only on me? I feel the draw of her body, but she doesn't seem to feel anything for me, except anger."

  u Ma petite does not like to be in love. It always angers her, most especially in the beginning."

  Auggie shook his head. "I don't understand that."

  I shrugged. "Join the club." I went to the love seat. Nathaniel trailed me. "Why hasn't Travis shifted?"

  Micah answered, "He's waiting for you."

  "Waiting for me to do what?"

  "Bring my beast," Travis said, and his face was almost gray with pain.

  "What you do here on your little visits would be a secret from your so-conservative fellow criminals," Jean-Claude said.

  "Just shift, Travis. Heal yourself."

  He shook his head, huddling over his arm.

  Auggie said, "And what would I be doing on these visits?"

  "Perhaps we could even visit you in Chicago."

  I was suddenly paying attention to their conversation. If we went to Chicago, oh, my God, the energy there would...

  "No, no fucking way. You'd feed on all my people then. I felt what one feeding off me and the few people I had here did to your power level. No way."

  "So you do not want to visit us again?"

  Auggie forced himself to stand very straight, shoulders back, an echo of military something. "You know that I do, but I won't trade my people and all my power for it. I won't crawl for you, Jean-Claude."

  "I don't want you to crawl, Augustine."

  "What do you want?"

  "You to stop trying to manipulate us. Accept that we hold the ardeur and you want it. Supply and demand, dear Augustine."

  "You bastard."

  Jean-Claude was suddenly standing, so fast I hadn't seen it. Magic, again. "You abused my hospitality first. You manipulated my human servant so you could feed on the ardeur again. You opened the way for Belle Morte to pos­sess ma petite. I am not the bastard here."

  "Fine, I'm the rat bastard. You're right; saying that I didn't understand I was inviting Belle in doesn't fix it. Yeah, I want to take back one of the women of Belle's line, but no one but Anita carries the ardeur. She and you, so yeah, I came with the idea that if I had a chance at it, I'd raise the ardeur."

  "You came here wanting the ardeur one more time; what do you want now, Augustine?"

  "Don't make me say it, Jean-Claude."

  "Ma petite is not a subtle woman. Unless you say it, she will not under­stand it."

  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 hu-milate 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 t
hem." 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."

 

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