"Talk to me, Nathaniel."
"I gave you copies of three of my movies." He smiled, wide this time, before I could say anything. "I know you've never watched them. When I gave them to you, I still thought you were like Gabriel and Raina, that it had to be sex, that you would like that they were porn. I understand now that you'll take care of us no matter what, not because you lust after us or because you love one of us, but just--because." He went to his knees, still holding my hand, pressing it against his chest with both his own. He laid his head on my lap, his face turned away from me. I moved a thick line of hair away from his face, so I could see his profile as he leaned against me.
We sat there for a few moments, me waiting for him to continue, him maybe waiting for me to prompt him, but the silence wasn't strained. One of us would fill it when we were ready, and we both knew that. He was the one who sighed, keeping one hand on my hand, pressed to him, his other hand curling around my leg. I could feel the beat of his heart against the back of my hand.
"I did more movies than just those three. Most of them with Raina. Gabriel wouldn't let her have me as a lover, or a slave. I think he knew she'd kill me, but on film where things could be controlled ..." He hugged his body against mine, clinging.
"What happened?" I said, softly.
"She did that to Gregory on her own, as a kind of ... fun. But when he survived it, she wanted to do a version of it on film."
I went very still for a second or two. I think I stopped breathing, because when my breath finally did come out, it shook. "You?" I made it a question.
He nodded his head, cheek still pressed to my thigh. "Me."
I stroked his hair, stared down into that young face. He was six years younger than me, almost seven, but it seemed like there should have been decades between us. He was so much a victim, so much anyone's meat.
"Gregory wouldn't do it again, said he'd kill himself first, and Gabriel must have believed him."
I kept petting his hair because I didn't know what else to do. What do you say while someone whispers horrors in your ear, tells you their most intimate, nightmarish secrets? You sit and you listen. And you give them the only thing you can--the silence and the safety to talk and to be heard.
His voice dropped soft, softer, until I had to lean my face over his to hear turn. "They chained me down, and I knew the script. I knew what was about to happen, and I was excited. The fear made the anticipation almost unbearable."
I laid my cheek against his, felt his mouth move as he spoke, and I kept very, very quiet. I had nothing to offer but my silence, and my touch.
He whispered, "I like teeth, biting, I like a lot of damage. It was wonderful until ..." He closed his eyes, turned his face into my jeans, as if even now he couldn't look at the memory. I had lifted my head up when he moved, but laid a gentle kiss on the back of his head. "It's okay, Nathaniel, it's okay."
He said something, but I couldn't understand it.
"What?"
He moved his head just enough so that his mouth wasn't buried against my leg. "God, it hurt. She took it in pieces, wanted it to last longer than it had with Gregory."
His whole body gave one great shiver, and I leaned over him, my free hand across his back, smoothing the hair away so I could reach his skin. I stroked over his back, and found all the little bite marks I'd left in his skin. I hadn't felt bad for marking him, until now. Now I felt like I'd used him like everyone else had.
I curled my body over his, hugging him into my lap, holding him as close as I could. "I am sorry, Nathaniel, so sorry."
"You don't have anything to be sorry about, Anita. You've never hurt me."
"Yes, I have."
He raised up enough to meet my eyes. He looked so young, eyes wide. "I love that you've marked me, don't be sorry about that." He gave a small smile. "If you start feeling guilty about it, you won't do it again, and I want you to, I want that very much."
"If I feed on you, Nathaniel, for the ardeur, or the flesh, or whatever, I'm using you. I don't use people."
He held my hand so tight that it almost hurt. "Don't do this to me."
"Do what?"
"Don't punish me for telling you about how Raina hurt me."
"I'm not punishing you."
"I tell you this horrible thing, and you start feeling protective of me, and guilty. I know you, Anita, you'll let your head get in the way of what we both need."
"And what exactly is that?" And even I could hear the impatience, almost anger, in my voice.
He raised up farther, bringing his face close to mine, because I'd sat up, distancing myself from him. "You need to feed the ardeur, and I need to have a place to belong."
"You are welcome in my house as long as you need it, Nathaniel."
He shook his head, pushing the hair back impatiently, letting go of my hand, putting his hands on my knees, half-crawling under the table so that he was kneeling between my legs, though only his hands touched the tops of my knees. He stared up at me. "No, you tolerate me. I do some housework, errands, but I don't belong. You don't go through your day thinking about me. I'm here, but I'm not part of your life, I know that. If I am your pomme de sang, then I will be. I'll finally belong to you in a way that both of us can live with."
I shook my head. "No, Nathaniel, no."
He grabbed the legs of the chair and picked the entire thing up with me on it from a kneeling position and moved it backwards with a bump, so he could fit under the table better. He hadn't even strained when he did it. He put his hands on the chair arms, slid his lower body against the chair, putting my knees on either side of his hips.
"And who else are you going to feed off of every day? Richard? Jean-Claude? Micah?"
"The ardeur may be temporary," I said.
He put a hand on either side of my waist. "If it's temporary, then feed on me until it goes away. If it's permanent ..."
"I don't want to feed on anyone."
His hands slid around my waist, his head going to my lap, and I realized he was crying. "Please, don't do this, Anita, please don't do this."
I stroked his hair, his face, and didn't know what to say. What was I going to do if the ardeur was permanent? Richard didn't let anyone feed off of him for any reason--same rule I had. Jean-Claude would be literally dead to the world when I most needed to feed. Micah was still a question mark. But in some ways, feeding off of Nathaniel because he was the only one that would let me, was almost worse.
I lifted his face from my lap, a hand on either side. Tears glittered on his cheeks in the faint light. I kissed his forehead, kissed his closed eyes, the way you would a child's.
"Did I get here just in time, or am I interrupting?" It was Richard standing in the doorway. Perfect fucking timing, as always.
33
I FROZE WITH Nathaniel's face cradled in my hands, him kneeling between my legs with the table hiding most of him, having just risen from kissing him, and knew how it looked. I wasn't sure I could explain it to Richard's satisfaction. To my knowledge Richard didn't know about the ardeur yet, and right then I didn't want to tell him.
I laid another gentle kiss on Nathaniel's forehead and leaned back. I wasn't going to act like I'd done something wrong when I hadn't. Nathaniel took his cue from me, laying his head back in my lap, which I realized meant he was invisible from the doorway, the table hiding what he was doing.
Richard strode into the kitchen like an angry wind, his power biting along my skin. He came to stand where he could see that Nathaniel had his cheek against my thigh, gazing up at the larger man, as he towered over both of us.
Jamil and Shang-Da were hanging back by the doorway. They were good bodyguards, but some things bodyguards can't keep you safe from.
I felt my face go neutral, empty, vaguely pleasant. "I was comforting one of my leopards, something wrong with that?"
"He looks very comfortable," Richard said, voice mild enough, but his power was hot, like opening the door to an oven.
I licked my lips.
I was going to have to explain the ardeur, sooner or later, and since I wanted him to help us save Gregory, tonight was probably the right time. "Nathaniel and I were discussing some side effects of marrying the vampire marks."
"You mean the ardeur," he said.
I was surprised and let it show. "Who told you?"
"Jean-Claude thought I should know. He encouraged me to come over and be here for you in the morning."
"And you said?" I kept my voice as neutral as I could, but not as neutral as I wanted it to be.
"I don't let him, or Asher, or any of them, feed off of me, blood or anything else. I don't see why I should change that rule just because it's you and it's sex instead of blood."
"Did he explain that if I don't feed off of you, or him, I still have to feed off of someone?"
"There's always your Nimir-Raj." The contempt in his voice was thick enough to walk on.
"Micah's been called away on pard business."
"You really think he won't be back before morning so you can fuck him? I do."
I stared up at him, still sitting in the face of his burning power and the sheer physical presence of him. Richard was one of those big men who never seemed big unless he was angry. He seemed big now, and I wasn't impressed.
I started petting Nathaniel's hair, and he snuggled in against my legs, letting the tension ease out of his body. "You dumped me, remember?"
"And did you fuck him for the first time before or after you found out I'd dumped you?"
I had to think about that for a second or two. "After," I said.
"You mourned my loss for, what, half a second?"
I felt heat crawl up my face. I was out of moral high ground, and explaining that it was the ardeur just wasn't good enough for Richard.
"It took all three of us to get into this mess, don't make it worse."
"Don't you mean four of us, or is it five now?"
I must have looked as blank as I felt. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He grabbed the table and shoved it backwards with a scream of wood on wood. Nathaniel stayed curled around my legs and just looked up at him. I'd never gotten my gun back from the wererats. I had gotten my knives back, but I wasn't really willing to cut Richard up, not yet, not for this. I couldn't arm wrestle Richard, not and win, so really my only option was to sit, look perfectly calm, and tell him by my facial expression what a fucking asshole he was being.
He shoved the table again, making the wood scream, then he knelt beside Nathaniel and pushed his long hair back. He bared his back and stared at the bite marks.
"Is that all?" he asked, voice fierce, his power so high it was like treading in boiling water, up to my chin, and still rising.
"No," I said.
Richard gripped the back of Nathaniel's shorts and pulled, the movement so violent that Nathaniel's entire body moved with it. I heard the button from the top of the shorts bounce along the floor. Richard jerked down the shorts and stared at the bite marks, where they trailed ever lower.
Richard leaned over Nathaniel, not quite touching, but he was like some huge presence, and I felt Nathaniel cower against me.
Richard hissed into his ear, "Did she suck you off? She's good at that."
"That's enough, Richard."
Nathaniel answered, "No."
"You're so scared of me I can't tell if you're lying or not." He grabbed a handful of Nathaniel's hair and pulled him backwards, peeling him away from me. I had one of the wrist sheath knives in my hand and didn't remember drawing it. The point was pressed against the long line of Richard's throat, and even I was breathless at the speed of it. It must have been a blur of movement. It wasn't human speed.
Everything froze.
Shang-Da and Jamil moved into the room. I pressed the point deeper against Richard's neck. "Don't interfere, boys."
They stopped moving. I met Richard's gaze and found his eyes had gone wolf amber. "Let go of him, Richard." My voice was low, but it seemed to fill the room.
"You wouldn't kill me for this." His voice was low, careful, too.
"Kill, no, but bleed? Oh, yes."
"You need me to help you save Gregory."
I could feel his pulse beating against the tip of my knife. "I won't let you hurt Nathaniel to save Gregory."
His grip actually tightened on Nathaniel's hair, and I pressed the point in enough to draw the first crimson drop. "Would you be this upset if it wasn't Nathaniel?" he said.
"This is the only warning I will ever give you, Richard. Never touch one of my people again."
"Or what? You'll kill me? I don't think you'll do it."
I realized in that moment that if I wasn't willing to kill him, I had no threat. And I really wasn't willing to kill him, not over this, not yet.
I drew the blade back from his neck and watched him relax, the tension easing away from him, his hand still in Nathaniel's hair. I moved without thinking, and I was fast enough that the knife cut across his forearm before he could react. He jerked away, came to his feet, and took a step back, holding his bleeding arm. The cut was deeper than I'd meant for it to be, because I'd rushed it. Blood dripped from between his fingers. Jamil and Shang-Da moved into the room.
I stood and drew Nathaniel with me, as he pulled up his shorts to cover himself. I put the French doors at our backs. "You are never to lay a hand in anger on my leopards, Richard, you or any of your wolves."
Jamil was helping Richard press a towel to the wound. Shang-Da had gone for Dr. Lillian. "It would serve you right if I just walked out and left you and your leopards to fend for yourselves."
"You'd leave Gregory to be permanently deaf, or dead, because we had a fight? He's in danger because you couldn't control your temper, or your wolves."
"It's my fault, right, all my fault."
I just looked at him, Nathaniel behind me, the bloody knife still in my hand.
Richard gave a laugh that sounded more out of pain than humor. "I've let everyone down tonight." He looked at me, and there was something fierce in his face that wasn't his beast but just sheer emotion. Anger, pain, so deep it was like anguish. "I'll help you save Gregory, because you're right, it is my fault. I'll take this," he raised the wounded arm, while Jamil still held it, "because you're right again, I had no right to touch one of your people. I wouldn't have let you abuse one of my wolves either."
Dr. Lillian came in, took one look and started scolding us for being children who couldn't play well together. "He's going to need stitches. Shame on you both."
Richard stared over her head as she cleaned the wound. I think he wasn't really glaring at me, he was glaring at Nathaniel. He was genuinely jealous. Jealous in a way that he shouldn't have been. What had Jean-Claude told him about the ardeur and about Nathaniel, and about what we'd all done together at the Circus? Jean-Claude wouldn't actually lie, but he might make things sound worse if it suited his purposes. But what purpose did it serve to make Richard jealous of Nathaniel? I would have to ask Jean-Claude about that. I had time to call while Richard got stitched up.
34
JEAN-CLAUDE ADMITTED ONLY to telling the absolute truth. But, he added, if because of that Monsieur Zeeman was jealous of Nathaniel, this wasn't an altogether bad thing. "He will share you with me, because he must, and he will share you with Micah also, because he must, but we are both alphas, dominants. To share you with someone like Nathaniel--that is different."
"You changed something about the story to make Nathaniel sound like more of a threat, didn't you?"
"No, ma petite, I merely told the truth without leaving anything out. He is not entirely happy with Jason either."
"Jean-Claude, you can't do this to Richard. You'll drive him mad."
"Mad enough, perhaps, to finally acknowledge that he cannot live without you, and that he must come to terms with our triumvirate."
"You Machiavellian shithead, you're playing with him."
"I am trying to maneuver him into doing what must be done if we are to survive. If t
hat be Machiavellian, so be it."
"You are making things worse," I said.
"I don't believe so. I think, ma petite, that you still do not understand men. Many men will give up a woman if they are unhappy with her. But let another man try to claim her, and often, they find they still do want her."
"You and Micah aren't competition enough?" I asked.
"As I explained, we are his equals. Nathaniel is lesser, and that will prick his pride more."
"I didn't think Richard had that kind of destructive guy pride."
"I think there are many things you do not know about our Richard."
"And you do?"
"I am, after all, a man, ma petite. I believe I understand the male psyche a tiny bit better than you do."
I couldn't argue with that. "Well, give me a heads-up next time you plan to do any maneuvering. You could have gotten one of us killed."
He sighed. "I do keep underestimating the stubbornness of both of you. My apologies for that."
I leaned my forehead against the kitchen wall. "Jean-Claude ..."
"Yes, ma petite?"
I closed my eyes. "Tell me exactly what you think Richard thinks about Nathaniel and me."
"I told him the absolute truth, ma petite, nothing more, and nothing less."
I turned around, put my back to the wall, looked out at the empty kitchen. Richard was in the downstairs bathroom getting stitched up. Nathaniel was with the other leopards. I'd given strict orders that he was not to be left alone. I just wasn't up to Richard and him actually having a fight. It would be too ... ridiculous, or pathetic.
"And what does that mean, that you told the truth, no more, no less?"
"You will not like it."
"I don't like it now, just tell me, Jean-Claude."
"I told him what had happened with the ardeur, and added my own belief the reason you so often find Nathaniel around when sex is in the air is that you find him sexually attractive."
"That did not make Richard come over here and start a fight."
"I do remember adding that you might find a less-demanding male refreshing after the two of us. Someone who did not make so many demands on you, someone who merely accepted you as you are."
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