The thought was enough to dim the desire for a moment or two. I drew my hand away from Asher, and he didn’t protest. The sheer horror of what I’d be like around Richard with this inside me helped me think. Being around him normally made me want sex, but now . . . “My God, I’ll be lucky if I don’t just strip down and do him in the lupanar.” I stared at Jean-Claude. “What do I do?”
“I say again, ma petite, if you feed now off of such rich fare, you may be too full to need to feed again so soon. It is all I can offer you for tonight. You could simply delay the meeting for a few nights.”
I shook my head. “They’ll kill Gregory. I have to get him out tonight.”
“Then come and feed.”
“Define feed?”
“Drink their lust,” he said.
I looked at Jason and Nathaniel, and they weren’t even trying for neutral. The looks on their faces brought heat in a rush up my face. I shook my head.
“You do not have to have intercourse to feed from them, as you have discovered.”
“Aww,” Jason said, but the look on his face didn’t match the light teasing of his voice. They were responding to my need, the way I’d responded for so long to Jean-Claude’s, drawn like a moth to a flame. You just couldn’t help wanting to touch it, even when you knew it would burn.
Asher stood. “I will leave you alone. But with permission, I would feed on Nathaniel as my pomme de sang for the day.”
“No,” I said.
His eyes widened just a touch, face going neutral, eyes empty and cool as a spring sky. I felt him draw away from me. “As you wish.” He turned for the door.
I grabbed his hand, slid my fingers between his. “Come to bed, Asher.”
I’d thought his face was as blank and careful as it could get. I was wrong. His voice held nothing when he asked, “What do you mean?”
“I can’t give you back what you had. I can’t even give you . . .” I stopped and tried again. “But I can let you feed together again.”
“How?”
“If Nathaniel says it’s okay, you can take blood from him, and Jean-Claude will take blood from Jason. You can feed together.”
“Do you know how intimate a thing it is to feed together on your pomme de sang? A pomme de sang is not a casual feeding, it is intimate, to be shared only with intimate companions.”
I entwined my fingers around his hand. “I know.” I took a step towards the bed, drawing him with me. “Let us feed on your lust, Asher, as in days of old.”
Asher stared past me at Jean-Claude. “The last time two fed from my desire, it was Belle and you.”
“I remember,” Jean-Claude said softly.
He held his hand out to Asher from across the room, and I was reminded of him reaching for Asher all those centuries ago. “Let it be again as it was before, but better this time. Anita loves you as you are now, not as some ideal thing like a butterfly on a pin to be tossed aside if a wing falls away. Come to us, Asher, come to us both.”
Asher smiled, then took a step to be beside me. He offered me his arm in a very old-fashioned gesture. I wanted to take his arm, to have an excuse to rub my body against his as we walked, and that was why I asked, “How about the use of your robe, as well as your hand?”
He gave a low and perfect bow, so low that his hair almost swept the floor. “That you had to prompt me to offer you my robe proves I am not a gentleman.” He slipped it off as he stood, and held it for me like a coat. Asher is six feet, so the sleeves hung over my hands and the hem pooled around my feet. I pushed the sleeves up and got the sash tied, but the only thing to do for the length was just to bundle it in one hand like you would an overly long dress. But it covered almost every inch of me, and I felt better for it. The sweet scent of Asher’s cologne clung to the robe, and that soft, masculine scent made me turn back to him. Made my eyes seek him out. Seeing Asher with no shirt on didn’t make me feel better. I had the urge to caress his bare skin, to lick the scars. I never remembered being this orally fixated before, and wondered if it was the beast talking or the vampire. But to ask the question would be to admit the desire, and I didn’t want to know that badly.
I laid my hand in Asher’s, partially because he was holding his hand out to me, and partially because even that small touch was satisfying. I wanted to touch him, wanted to wrap myself around him and answer that question that Jean-Claude was so desperate to answer. Was all this beauty and heat ruined? Was Asher unable to function as a man now? I closed my eyes as he led me forward, because the visuals were just too strong. Through Jean-Claude I knew exactly what Asher had looked like nude, before the scars. I held memories of his body bathed in firelight as he lay rampant on a rug in a room in a country that I had never seen. I knew the play of moonlight on his back as I touched him.
I tripped on the hem of the robe, and he had to catch me to keep me from falling. I was suddenly pressed against his chest with the feel of his arms solid against my back. My face was suddenly uptilted, as if I were waiting for a kiss, and there was one of those moments when you become aware of each other—painfully and suddenly aware of the possibilities of the next few seconds. He picked me up in his arms, carrying me easily, smoothly forward. I’d have told him to put me down, but my heart had filled my throat, and I couldn’t speak around it.
17
ASHER STRODE TO the bed and laid me on it, leaning over Nathaniel’s nude body to do so. I lay on my back and felt movement from every direction. Jean-Claude crawled up beside me, and Jason moved down beside him from the head of the bed. Nathaniel rolled over until we were lying beside each other with him on his side. His eyes told me nothing, except he would not say no, but I asked anyway.
“Do you want Asher to feed from you?”
“Oh, yes,” Nathaniel said, and there was something in his voice that I rarely heard—surety. In this moment he knew what he wanted. There was no doubt in him, and the strength of his desire made him . . . stronger.
Asher slid in against Nathaniel’s back, so that their bodies spooned together. I turned in time to see Jean-Claude mirror the movement with Jason. Jason reached out, touched my arm, and it was like a door had been burst open. I thought I’d felt desire before this, but it had been a dim echo. It roared over me like something huge and burning, except this fire did not burn, it fed me energy, as if I were not the wood on which it fed, but I was the flame. I was the thing that fed and grew and consumed.
I found Jason’s mouth and kissed him, kissed him with lips and tongue and teeth, biting at his lips, pulling him into my mouth. And his body was suddenly pressed against mine, his arms pinning me to him, and Nathaniel slid in behind my back. I was pinned between them, and I didn’t care.
My leg slid over Jason’s hip, my leg touching Jean-Claude on the other side of him. Jason was suddenly pressed between my legs, with only the silk of his shorts between us. It should have been enough to stop me, but it wasn’t. I needed him. Nathaniel raised my hair, bit gently at the back of my neck, and a sound drew from my throat. The two of them fell on me, hands, mouths, bodies, like they were fire to my wood, but this wood drew them in, drank them, almost. Jason pushed against me, and the shorts were baggy enough, the silk thin enough that he entered me. The barest of touches, but it was enough to bring me up for air, to make me draw back from him.
He drew back enough to whisper, “Sorry.”
My voice sounded as breathless as his when I said, “I’m not on birth control.”
Everyone froze. Jean-Claude peered over Jason’s shoulder. “What did you say, ma petite?”
“I stopped taking the pill six months ago. I’ve only been on it for two weeks. No guarantee for another two to four weeks.”
“You made love to the Nimir-Raj.”
“He’s been fixed.”
Asher said, “She did what?”
Jean-Claude looked across the bed at him. “Her hunger woke for the first time with the new Nimir-Raj. You have not met him.”
“You have,” Asher said.
“Oui.”
Jason was looking at me, and I had to put a hand over his eyes, close them; And the embarrassment helped, but the ardeur only withdrew momentarily, like a wave pulling back from the shore, I could feel it rushing towards us again. Jean-Claude was right, every time I said no, the next time was harder to deny.
Jean-Claude rolled off the bed, and I heard a drawer open. He came back into sight with foil-wrapped packages and wordlessly handed them to Jason and Nathaniel.
That did it. I crawled out from between them to huddle against the headboard. “No, no, no, you said no intercourse.”
“I said, that you do not need intercourse to feed.”
“No, oh, so no.” I tucked the robe around my legs and covered everything I could, which was pretty much all of me.
“We are not planning on them having intercourse with you, ma petite. But I have both fed on desire and been fed off of by Belle Morte. There comes a time in the feeding where you lose yourself and cannot always think clearly. I do not want regrets if we get carried away.”
“I am not going to have sex with Nathaniel, or Jason. Keep this up, and you won’t even be on the list.”
“I would rather have you angry with me and not in my bed than accidentally pregnant by one of them.”
“I think I can keep from fucking them.” I sounded angry, but it wasn’t anger that I felt, it was a seed of doubt. That hesitation made the anger worse. I always hid behind anger when I could.
“And before this morning, you would have sworn even more strongly that you would not fuck a strange man you had just met.”
The blush was so hot, it almost hurt. “I didn’t mean to.” That sounded weak even to me. “I couldn’t . . .”
“You could not control yourself, ma petite, I know. But if you lose control again, would you not rather be safe?”
I shook my head. “If I can’t control myself better than this, we’re not going to do this.”
“And if you do not feed from the lust in this room, how will you go into the lupanar tonight? How will you see your wereleopard lover tonight when he accompanies you to the lupanar without losing your precious control? How will you stand this close to our Richard and not offer yourself to him? Ma petite, you have had sex with a stranger.”
“He is her Nimir-Raj,” Nathaniel said. “They are meant to be a mated pair.”
“Pretty to think so,” Jean-Claude said, “but I have been where ma petite is right now. I have felt the hunger for centuries, and I tell you that you will not be able to go among the shapeshifters tonight unless you are sated. I ask again, can you delay this meeting for a few nights?”
“I might be able to delay it for a night,” I said.
He shook his head. “No, ma petite, one night will not suffice. You are drawn to Richard and now to the Nimir-Raj. I think you will be unable to think around them unless you have fed. Your wereleopard’s life is at stake. Can you afford to be that distracted? Can you bear the thought of being that out of control in a public setting, among potential enemies?”
“Damn you,” I said.
He nodded. “Yes, perhaps, but is anything I have said untrue?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I hate it, but no.”
“Then let us at least take precautions, ma petite. It is luck alone that had the Nimir-Raj made safe. Our lives are complicated enough without that.”
I knew what “that” meant. An accidental pregnancy. The thought of it made my blood run colder than anything else had. I hid my face in my hands. “I can’t do this.”
“Then you must call Richard and tell him you cannot come tonight. You cannot go as you are, ma petite. The need will only worsen the longer you deny it.”
I raised my face and stared at him. “How much worse?”
He lowered his gaze. “Bad enough.”
I crawled across the bed to him, made him look at me. “How bad?”
He tried not to meet my gaze. His shields were back in place, and I couldn’t tell what he was feeling. “You would be attracted to all the men. You would . . . I cannot guarantee what you would do, ma petite, or who you would do it with.”
I just stared at him. “No. No, I would never . . .”
He touched my mouth with his fingertip. “Ma petite, if you have not found my memories of my first days with this inside my body, then it is a blessing. I was a wanton thing before I became a vampire. But what I did when the desire first fell upon me . . . The desire did not hit me at once, because I craved blood first, then when that quieted, the desire rose inside me.” He took my hands in his, pressed them against the cool flesh of his chest. “I did things, ma petite, things that even to a hardened libertine were humilating. A look, a glance, and it was enough to bring me to them.”
“Didn’t Belle Morte try to protect you?”
“I did not meet Belle until I had been dead nearly five years.”
I stared at him. “I thought Belle was your, whatever, that she made you into a vamp.”
“Lissette was my creator. She was of Belle’s line, but not a master vampire, not by any stretch of the definition. In France it is customary that every kiss of vampires has at least one vampire belonging to each of the council bloodlines. Lissette was the only one of her kind in a nest descended mostly of far less pleasant vampires. Julian was her Master of the City, and he was my first true master. He brought in people for me, but not people I would have chosen. He brought in . . .” Jean-Claude shook his head. “He amused himself at my expense, because he knew I would take whatever he offered, because I would have no choice. I thought I had no room for embarrassment, but he taught me that there were things I did not want to do, and I did them anyway.”
I think if he hadn’t been shielding so strongly that I would have seen what he was remembering, but he didn’t want me to see.
“Let me spare you such degradation, ma petite. You are not as I was. You have never given yourself freely. I fear what you would do, or think of yourself, if you did these things. I do not think your sense of yourself would survive intact.”
“You’re scaring me,” I said.
“Good, you should be frightened. Asher met me before I had mastered the ardeur. He can tell you what I was like then.”
I just looked at Asher.
“I had seen the ardeur rise in others before Jean-Claude, and I have watched it since, but I have never seen anyone so crazed by it,” said Asher.
“So you helped him learn how to control the ardeur.”
“Non. Lissette sent to Belle, telling her of Jean-Claude’s beauty. I was sent to, how would you say, look him over for Belle. I advised Belle not to bring Jean-Claude and his master to court.”
“Why?” I asked.
“I was jealous of his beauty and his prowess. After ten years she was growing bored with me, or so I feared. And I did not wish the competition.”
“I learned to control the ardeur without the aid of another who had experienced it. For five years I fed on flesh as I fed on blood. Only then did I master the ability to feed from a distance.”
“Five years!” I said.
“Belle taught me true control of the ardeur, and I was not hers until I had been dead five years. But I will be there for you from the beginning. It will not be as it was for me.” Jean-Claude hugged me against him, and that scared me more. “I would never have married the marks with you if I had thought you could inherit my incubus. I would not knowingly have done this to you.”
I pushed away from him and found him crying, and the fear sat like stale metal on my tongue. I was so scared my body went quiet, not racing, but almost as if every beat of my body, every breath, had simply stopped, and all there was to fill me was fear.
“What have you done to me?”
“I thought at first that you were not vampire, and it would not be a true hunger. But watching you today, I know that it is as it was for me. You must feed. You must not deny yourself. To do so is to court madness, or worse.”
“No,”
I said.
“If you had withstood the Nimir-Raj’s advances, then I would say that your strength of will might conquer it. If you had withstood the desire to feed on Nathaniel, I would say you would master it. But you fed on him.”
“I did not have sex with Nathaniel.”
“No. And wasn’t what you did instead more satisfying to some part of you than mere intercourse would have been?”
I started to say no and stopped. I could still feel Nathaniel’s flesh in my mouth, the touch of his skin under my hands, the taste of his blood on my tongue. The memory brought the hunger over me in a hot rush. Not merely the lust, but Jean-Claude’s craving for blood, and Richard’s beast—or my beast—wanting to take that last bite and tear flesh for real, no pretending, no holding back.
I had an awful idea. “If I deny one hunger all of them grow worse, don’t they?”
“If I deny the lust, I need more blood, and the reverse is true.”
“I don’t just have your blood lust, Jean-Claude, I have Richard’s beast—or mine. I wanted to tear Nathaniel up. I wanted to feed on him for real, the way an animal does. Will that grow worse, too?”
His face started to slip back into careful, neutral lines. I grabbed his shoulders, shook him. “No! No more hiding. Will it grow worse?”
“I have no way of knowing for certain.”
“No more games! Will it grow worse?”
“I believe so.” His voice was very soft as he said it.
I drew back from him, huddled against the headboard, stared at him, waiting for him to say, “sorry, just kidding,” but he just met my eyes. I stared at him, because I didn’t want to see anyone else’s face. If I saw pity, it might make me cry. If I saw lust, it’d make me mad.
I finally said, “What am I going to do?” There was no inflection in my voice, just a dragging tiredness.
“You will feed, and we will help you. We will keep you safe.”
I finally glanced at the others. Every face was either carefully neutral or, in Nathaniel’s case, staring down at the bed, as if he didn’t trust me to see his eyes. Probably smart of him.
Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Collection 6-10 Page 218