Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Collection 6-10

by Laurell Hamilton

  “I remember I had to talk you through the first time you healed Nathaniel,” he said, voice soft.

  I nodded. “I remember too.”

  Gregory sat up, watching us both, trying to read our lips, I think. There was something frantic about the way he tried to decipher what we were saying. God, please let me help him. He was so scared.

  “I think of him more like a child, no offense.”

  “You think more like a parent than a seducer; that’s a good thing,” Stephen said. “Don’t apologize for it.”

  Cherry joined us, kneeling on her heels, long body curved in graceful lines. “You called Raina in the lupanar without any lust, right?”

  I nodded. “I can call Raina’s munin, sometimes even if I don’t want to, but she always demands a price before she leaves.”

  “You didn’t seduce anyone at the lupanar tonight,” she said.

  “No, but I damn near started a fight by hitting Richard, and that was part Raina’s doing. She enjoyed my loss of control, and . . . and she was worried about the pack tonight. She doesn’t like what Richard’s done. I think she toned down her demands because of that.”

  “And she doesn’t care about us like she does the wolves.”

  “No, she doesn’t.”

  “What are you afraid of?” Stephen asked. “That you’ll molest Gregory.”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m afraid Raina will.”

  “You healed Nathaniel in the woods and didn’t do anything awful to him,” Cherry said.

  “No, but I had Richard and the pack there to balance me, to help me control her through the marks. Without extra help in that area, Raina’s idea of payment can get a little messy.”

  “Define messy,” Stephen said.

  “Sex, violence—” I shrugged—“messy.”

  “You have the pard here now,” Cherry said. “You can use us for balance.”

  Truth was, without Micah here I wasn’t sure I could do that. Just as Richard was my door to the wolves, Micah was my door to the leopards. Or was he? I was treating this like I treated Richard and Jean-Claude, like I was the outsider and they were my ticket in. But what if I really was the leopard queen? If I really was Nimir-Ra, then I should be able to do this without Micah. I realized the moment I doubted that, I was still hoping I wasn’t going to be furry next full moon. No matter how much evidence to the contrary, I still didn’t believe it. Maybe I didn’t want to believe it. But I wanted to heal Gregory, that I did want.

  I looked at them all and knew Cherry was right. If I was Nimir-Ra, then I had all I needed to balance me. If I wasn’t Nimir-Ra, then it wouldn’t work. What did we have to lose? I looked at Stephen and Gregory, their mirror faces, their frightened eyes, and knew exactly what we had to lose if I didn’t try.

  I took the Uncle Mike’s sidekick holster complete with Firestar out of the front of my jeans and looked around. If I was going to be calling on the leopards, I didn’t want them having to worry about the gun. I motioned Claudia the wererat over. Since I was still kneeling, she towered over me, only two inches shorter than Dolph. I had to admit it was impressive, even more so because she was a woman.

  I handed the holstered gun to her, and she took it. “Make sure no one gets shot with it.”

  She frowned down at me. “You think someone is going to try and get the gun?”

  “Me, maybe.”

  The frown deepened. “I don’t understand.”

  “Raina’s amused by violence. I don’t want to be carrying a gun when I call her munin.”

  Claudia’s eyebrows raised. “You mean she’d try to get you to use it on someone?”

  I nodded.

  “She’s tried before?’

  I nodded again. “In Tennessee when I was practicing with the munin, yeah.”

  Claudia shook her head. “You didn’t seem that worried at the lupanar.”

  “I can call her once and be okay, probably. But if I call her too often, too close together, it’s like she grows—” I hesitated—“stronger, or maybe I just get tired of fighting.”

  “She was a bitch when she was alive,” Claudia said.

  “Being dead hasn’t changed her much,” I added.

  The tall woman shivered. “I’m glad the wererats don’t have anything like the munin. The thought of some entity inside me just creeps me out.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  She looked down at me, thoughtful now. “I’ll keep the gun safe. Is there anything else Igor and I can do to help?”

  I tried to think of something, but only one thing came to mind. “If the leopards can’t control me, make sure I don’t hurt anyone.”

  “How bad is this going to be?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Normally, I wouldn’t be this worried, but last time I called her she didn’t get her bit of flesh, or sex. Hitting Richard made her happy, but . . .” I tried to explain. “I called her three times in a row for practice, without molesting or hurting anyone. My teacher, Marianne, and I both thought it was a sign that I was gaining control of Raina. Then the fourth time I called her, it was worse than it had ever been. You either pay as you go with Raina, or you end up owing her, and owing comes with interest, and the interest is hell to pay.”

  “Should you give me the knives, too, then?” Claudia asked.

  She had a point, no pun intended. I took the wrist sheaths off, folded them up, and handed them to her.

  “I thought you could control this shit.” Caleb was standing just a little behind and to one side of Claudia. He was looking up at the tall woman as if wondering what she’d do if he tried to climb her. I almost wanted him to try, because I was pretty sure what would happen, and even more sure that I’d enjoy watching it. Caleb needed a good lesson from someone.

  “I can.”

  “Then why all the precautions?”

  I could have told him about the time in Tennessee when Raina’s munin nearly started a riot among Verne’s pack in a sort of game of rape tag, with me as the rapee, but I didn’t. Instead, I said, “If you’re not going to be helpful, stand over to the side and shut the fuck up.”

  He opened his mouth as if to protest, but Merle said, “Caleb, do what she says.” His voice was quiet, a deep rumble of sound, but that mild tone seemed to work on Caleb like a charm.

  “Sure, Merle, anything you say.” He went to stand over to one side, near Dr. Lillian and Igor.

  I glanced at Merle. “Thanks,” I said.

  He just bowed his head at me.

  Dr. Lillian said, “I take this to mean that you want me to wait on the injection.”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  She turned and walked back through the sliding glass doors, into the darkened house. Everyone else stayed where they were, looking at me. Even Caleb, sulking by the railing with his arms crossed, was still watching the show.

  I slipped my shirt off and felt rather than saw all my people react, like wind through a wheat field, involuntary. I never undressed in front of people unless I absolutely had to. The black bra I was wearing covered more than most swim suits, but there’s something about letting people see you in your underwear that just makes all us good little girls squirm.

  “Black lace, I like it,” Caleb said.

  I started to say something, but Merle beat me to it. “Shut up, Caleb, and don’t make me tell you again.”

  Caleb settled back against the rail, arms hugging himself, face crinkled into a sulk that made him look even younger than he was.

  “Go on,” Merle said, “he won’t interrupt again.”

  I looked at him. It was bad that he kept interfering. It undermined my authority, but since I wasn’t entirely sure I had any authority over Caleb, it was okay, I guess. But it bugged me. I just wasn’t sure what to do about it.

  “I appreciate the help, but if our pards really do merge, then Caleb is going to have to learn to respect me, not you.”

  “You don’t want my help?” He made it a question.

  “Priority tonight is Gregor
y, but Caleb and I are going to have to come to an understanding.”

  “Are you going to shoot him too?”

  I tried to read Merle’s face and failed. A sort of blank hostility was all that showed. “You think I’ll have to?”

  Merle gave a very small smile. “Maybe.”

  It made me smile, a little. “Great, just what I need, another discipline problem in my pard.”

  His smile vanished like a hand had wiped it away. “We’re not your cats, Anita, not yet.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

  “We are not yours,” he said.

  I watched his face and saw something cross it in the moonlight. Maybe if I’d had better light I could have deciphered it. “Why does the thought of me being in charge bother you so much?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not you being in charge that bothers me.”

  “Then what is it?”

  He shook his head again. “What bothers me is you trying to be in charge and failing—failing really, really badly.”

  “I do my best, Merle, that’s all I can do.”

  He nodded. “I believe you, but I’ve seen a lot of people try their best and still not make it.”

  I shrugged and let it go. “Be pessimistic on your own time, Merle, we need a little hope here, not negativity.”

  “I’ll just shut up then,” he said, which implied that if he couldn’t be negative he had nothing to say. Fine by me.

  I turned back to Gregory and his wide, frightened eyes. I touched his face, gently, trying to ease some of that fear, but he flinched ever so slightly when I touched him. You get enough abuse in your life, and you begin to think that every offered hand is a blow waiting to strike.

  “It’ll be alright, Gregory,” I said. Since he couldn’t hear me, I must have been saying it to reassure myself. It didn’t seem to do a damn thing for Gregory.

  I tried to see Gregory as a lust object, and I failed. I ran my hands over the smooth skin of his back, I grabbed a handful of those yellow curls, looked into those lovely eyes, but all I could feel was pity. All I could feel was protective towards him and how much I wanted to keep him safe. He was totally nude, sitting in front of me, and he was lovely. There was nothing wrong with the way he looked, except that I didn’t see Gregory in that way. Trust me to find a way to make virtue a problem.

  I turned to Stephen, who was still kneeling beside us. “I’m sorry, he’s beautiful, but I want to hold him, keep him safe, not have sex with him, and protective intincts are not going to get Raina to come out.”

  Cherry said, “You simply called Raina at the lupanar. Why is this different?”

  I looked up at her, standing nude and comfortable against the deck railing. Zane was next to her, clothed, and just as comfortable.

  “I can call Raina, but I can’t guarantee she’ll help me heal Gregory. The healing usually comes with lust, not without.”

  “Call her,” Stephen said. “Once she’s here maybe the rest will come.”

  “You mean call her munin, then get her in the mood, not me.”

  He looked very solemn, but he nodded.

  “You know what her idea of sex is, Stephen.”

  He nodded again. “Trust me,” he said.

  Strangely, I did. He wasn’t dominant, in fact was very often a victim, but Stephen did what he said he’d do, at almost any cost. There was a desperate stubbornness in him, no matter how often you knocked him down.

  “I’ll call the munin.”

  “And I’ll make sure that Raina sees Gregory the way she needs to see him.”

  We looked at each other and had one of those moments of near perfect understanding. Stephen would do anything to save his brother, and I would do almost anything to help him do that.

  30

  I SAT BACK on my heels in front of Gregory, and I opened myself to the munin, dropped that barrier that kept Raina out, and she spilled up through me like warm water filling a pipe, up, up, riding on a wave of eagerness that she hadn’t had at the lupanar. A thrill of fear went through me. I knew it was a bad sign, but I didn’t fight her. I let her come, let her fill me up, let her laugh bubble from my throat.

  When she looked at Gregory, she had no trouble seeing him as a sexual object, but then Raina saw almost everyone as a sexual object, so no big surprise.

  I touched his face, caressed the line of his jaw. Gregory’s eyes widened. I realized in that moment that he might not know what the hell we were doing, or what had changed. I could call Raina and think rationally. I’d fought long and hard to be able to do that. I could be distant while my hand glided down Gregory’s bare chest. I could stop my hand—our hand—at his slender waist, and Raina couldn’t force me lower. She snarled in my head, giving me a visual of her in wolf shape, snapping at me. But it was just a visual, like a dream; it couldn’t hurt me, or anyone.

  Raina spoke in my head. “This wolf still has teeth, Anita.”

  “You know the rules,” I said.

  “What?” Stephen asked.

  I shook my head. “I’m talking to Raina.”

  “That is just creepy,” Zane said.

  I agreed with him, wholeheartedly, but Raina was already talking in my head, and I couldn’t answer him. “I know the rules, Anita, do you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I do whatever I please . . .”

  “And I try to stop you,” I finished for her.

  “Like old times,” the voice in my head said.

  It did sound like the relationship we’d had when she was alive. She wanted to kiss Gregory, and I didn’t fight it. The kiss was openmouthed, but soft, nothing that would scare me too badly. In her own way Raina was learning how to work me, too.

  I’d never kissed Gregory before, never wanted to. I still didn’t want to. Kissing, in some ways, is more intimate than intercourse, more special. I pulled away from his lips, and Raina was just as happy to kiss the side of his neck. His skin was warm and smelled like soap. I buried my face under his hair at the back of his ear and found the hair still damp, smelling of my shampoo.

  I tried to call healing from Raina, but she fought me. “No, not until after my reward.”

  I actually had leaned back from Gregory, and must have said it out loud, because Stephen asked, “What reward?”

  I shook my head. “Raina won’t heal him until after she’s been . . . fed.” It was a type of feeding; in her own way Raina was like the ardeur, except she only needed feeding when I called her—her craving, not mine.

  “What do you want?” I asked it out loud, because I still wasn’t comfortable with having silent conversations in my head.

  She gave me a visual of kissing down his chest, of forcing him onto his back on the deck, and the next thing I remembered clearly was laying a gentle kiss beside Gregory’s belly button. He was lying on his back, watching me with unfocused eyes. I was lying across his body, pinning his legs, my nearly naked chest pressed over his groin. I didn’t remember getting there. Shit.

  I rolled off of him, and Raina came like heat, racing through my body, drawing my mouth down to his hip, licking along that small hollow just where the waist meets groin. Gregory writhed under the stroke of my mouth, and as much as I’d tried to ignore it, drew our gaze to his groin.

  He was hard, ready, but the sight of him pushed Raina back, left me in control, not because it was embarrassing, but because I had never seen Gregory erect before. He was still lovely to look at, but he was an odd shape, almost hooked at the end. I didn’t know that men could be made that way, and it stopped me cold.

  Raina screamed in my head, roared over me in a rush of body memory. The memory was of being on all fours with a man riding me from behind, riding Raina. I couldn’t see who it was; all I could do was feel. They’d found that spot in a woman’s body, and the rush of orgasm was close. Raina threw her—our—head back, a rush of auburn hair flinging free of our face, and I saw Gregory’s reflection in the room’s mirror.

  Raina whispered in my head, “It�
�s always like that with him from behind, because of his shape.”

  I tore free of the memory and found myself on all fours beside Gregory, one hand on his body. I fell back from him, because the shared memories didn’t work without body contact.

  I turned my face away so I wouldn’t see him nude and ready, because I could still feel the memory of him inside my body, Raina’s body. A hand touched my bare arm, and the rush of memories this time was overwhelming. I was there.

  He filled my mouth, my throat, came inside my mouth in a spill of thick heat, and with his body trembling, thrashing, teeth tore into thick, tender flesh, and we ate him. Blood poured upwards, and Raina bathed in it.

  I fought free of it, screaming, shrieking, and someone else was screaming. It was Gregory. For one awful second I opened my eyes, because the memory was so strong I couldn’t tell the difference between it and reality. But when I could see again, he was whole, crawling away from me, from the shared memory. Because that was one of Raina’s gifts, the ability to share the horror.

  I could still feel the thickness of meat in my mouth, taste blood and thicker things. I crawled to the railing, pulled myself up and lost everything I’d eaten that day.

  Someone came up behind me, and I put out a hand, head still dangling over the dark edge of the deck. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Anita, it’s Merle. Nathaniel said that no one was to touch you that had ever shared a . . .” he hesitated, “moment with the old lupa. I didn’t know her. She can’t hurt you through me.”

  I held my head in my hands. It felt like it was going to split apart. “He’s right.”

  His grip on my shoulders was as hesitant as his words. I pushed away from the railing and the world swam. Merle caught me, held me against his chest. “It’s alright.”

  “I can still taste meat and blood and . . . oh, God! God!” I screamed it, and it didn’t help, not for this. Merle held me against his chest, tight, my hands pinned to my sides, as if I’d tried to hurt myself. I didn’t think I had, but I didn’t know anymore. Months of practice, and Raina could still do this to me.

  I screamed wordlessly over and over again, as if I could scream the memory out of me. Every time I drew breath I could hear Merle whispering, “It’s alright, it’s alright, Anita, it’s alright.”