16 Blood Noir ab-16

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  They can look like everyone else, Alex said.

  Yes, Shang-Da said.

  Crispin was looking from one to the other of us. He almost looked like the history lesson was as new to him as it was to me. Interesting.

  Las Vegas is our home. We dont talk about going anywhere else, Crispin said.

  Alex looked at me, then back to Crispin. We need to go and clean up. Lets try to avoid any of my fellow reporters. I really dont want to have to explain why Im coming out of this room in a robe, with another man in a robe.

  Homophobic? I said.

  He shook his head. Being considered bisexual would be fine, but Crispin is a known weretiger. Your boyfriend in the shower is a known werewolf. Its not my sexual preference Im trying to hide.

  Ive got another friend whos a reporter who basically said the same thing.

  He leaned in toward the door and drew in a long breath of air. I smell the guards, but no one else. Well go and take the stairs.

  Alex opened the door. Crispin moved as if to come farther into the room again. Alex took hold of his arm and pulled him toward the partially open door.

  Crispin pulled against the other mans arm. He looked at me. His face was raw with need, and something else. Was it fear that I saw in those blue eyes?

  Come on, Crispin, we need to clean up. I think I may even have some clothes that will fit you.

  Crispin stayed at the door, staring at me. I knew what the look was now. Pain, fear, and longing, all on his face, so raw that it hurt to see it.

  Youve rolled him, Richard said.

  Not on purpose.

  No, but unlike some of the others youve accidentally rolled, this one is He shook his head. Young.

  I knew what he meant. It wasnt the actual age. Twenty-one was plenty grown-up. Requiem had been several hundred years old when I accidentally bespelled him. That gives a man a lot of character to draw on, to help him break free. As Alex Pinn had said, it hits you harder when youve never been called before.

  I sighed and went to him. He smiled at me in a way that you never want a stranger to smile. Too warm, too damn happy. It frightened me. Id made Requiem break free of my powers, but he was a master vampire. He had his own power. Crispin was a weretiger, but there was no feel of power to him. I wasnt certain he had enough of him inside yet to break free of me, and without his willing help, I didnt know how to free him of what I and Marmee Noir had done. Shit.

  Crispin touched my arm when I was close enough. I didnt try to stop him. But the moment he touched me, I thought, why did I want him to leave? It was silly. He could stay, of course he needed to stay. He was my tiger, my white knight, my

  I jerked back from him. I ignored the hurt look on his face. Go with Alex. Clean up, get some clothes. Or see if your vampire friendLucian, right?is still here.

  Crispin nodded.

  See if hes still in the hotel. Your own luggage might be here somewhere. Your own clothes. Go, do what I ask.

  Can I have a good-bye kiss?

  Richard and I said, No, at the same time.

  I glared at Richard, but said, Alex, get him out of here.

  I kept my face turned away as the tigers left. I went across the room to the luggage. I needed clothes.

  What happened when you touched him just now? Richard asked.

  I didnt want him to leave. It was like a lighter version of what you did to me when you were projecting your emotions all over me. I thought it was just you, but if Crispin did it, even a paler version, maybe its something that Marmee Noir did to me.

  What? he asked.

  I dont know. I laid the Browning beside the suitcase, and started pulling clothes out.

  You need to know what she did to you. This from Shang-Da.

  I was surprised that he cared enough to comment. I need to call Jean-Claude.

  Cant you just open the marks? Richard said.

  Yeah, but when I fed off your anger, he shielded. He wasnt sure how to digest anger. I think the phone will be safer.

  Youre afraid whatever is happening will leak onto Jean-Claude, Richard said.

  Yes. I had enough clothes to make me happy. Now I just needed to change. If it had just been Richard, I might have simply gotten dressed, but I didnt want to dress in front of Jamil and Shang-Da. I know it sounds weird. I mean I was naked in front of them, and they were cool about it. So why was getting dressed more intimate? I dont know, it just was. I dont like men who are not my boyfriends watching me put on clothes. Theres always a moment when they let you know with their eyes that they are watching, and not in a completely neutral manner. Or maybe not, maybe its just my hang-up, but regardless, I wanted privacy.

  Why go into the bathroom to dress? Richard said.

  Either I go into the bathroom, or Jamil and Shang-Da go into the hallway.

  Youre already naked, Anita, Jamil said, we cant see more.

  I shrugged. Humor me.

  The men all exchanged glances, and then Jamil said, Do you want us in the hallway, or her in the bathroom?

  I dont want her alone with Jason in the shower.

  I might have protested that, but we all have our weakness. Seeing an attractive man all wet was one of mine.

  Jamil went for the door, and Shang-Da trailed him. No one argued. The door shut behind them, and we were suddenly alone. The silence was thicker than it should have been.

  I glanced at him, and there was that look in his eyes. That look that was very Richard. He was such a Boy Scout most of the time, such a good son, a good boy, a good teacher, a good man. Then, sometimes when we were alone, hed look at me with those dark eyes. That one look that said underneath all the goodness was someone who liked to be bad. Someone who understood the darkness in me, as well as the light. If he hadnt hated the darkness in his own soul so terribly much, I could have loved him forever. But you cant love someone who hates himself so much, and hates you for loving the parts of himself that he hates the most. Its too complicated a dance to ever win.

  I ignored that dark look, and tried my best to pretend he wasnt there. I actually turned my back on him to dress. It worked for a while, and then I felt him behind me, close behind me.

  I turned in time to keep his outstretched hand from touching me. I had jeans on, and a bra, but the shirt was still on the bed with my gun.

  Anita, he said.

  Richard, dont.

  Dont what? he asked.

  I closed my eyes so I couldnt see him. That always made it a little easier to turn away. When you touched me earlier, it was like magic. If it hadnt hurt, or Crispin hadnt pulled me away, I would have let you do anything. Its not real. Its some metaphysical problem.

  How can you say that? he said, and his voice was closer. He moved so close that I could feel the heat of his body against my bare skin. It wasnt his otherworldly energy I was sensing. It was just him.

  I stepped back, eyes still closed, and nearly knocked the bedside lamp over. We both grabbed for it, and it put his body next to mine. His hand over mine around the lamp. We had one of those frozen, awkward moments.

  I looked up at him, and he was so close, too close. He bent in to close that distance and kiss me. I threw myself backward onto the floor, knocking the trash can over, as I crab-walked back until my back hit the bathroom door hard.

  Richard, please, please, dont you feel that somethings wrong? Were always attracted to each other, but not like this.

  I think if I touch you now, that youll just say yes.

  Exactly, I said.

  I want you to say yes.

  Yes to what, Richard?

  Everything, he said.

  So now that you have enough metaphysical abilities to roll me, youll just do it. Youll roll over my free will and just make me into your little pet?

  He frowned. Its not like that, Anita. Im not making you feel things you dont feel. The emotions are real.

  Maybe, but they arent the only emotions Im feeling. Youre trying to take away my choices, Richard.

  He knelt in front of me.
My heart thudded against my chest, and I pressed myself tighter against the bathroom door. He reached out toward me, and I said the only thing I could think of to stop him. Arent you trying to do the very thing that you keep accusing Jean-Claude of doing?

  His hand hesitated so close to my face that I could feel the heat from his skin. It wasnt just the warmth of his body this time. His power was there like something alive and almost separate from him, pulsing above his skin. Playing along my cheek like something smooth and warm andI waited for it to raise my wolf, but it didnt. It was as if it wasnt that kind of power. It felt softer than his usual electric rush. It felt more likeJean-Claude.

  I opened my eyes, looked up at him, and found what Id feared. His eyes were solid brown, glowing with the light of his own power. It was what his eyes would have looked like if hed been a vampire. The way my own eyes looked from time to time.

  Your eyes, I whispered.

  His hand touched my face, and the touch was too much. One breath, I was trying to fight; the next, I fell into the brown fire of his eyes. There was nothing but the need to touch him. Nothing but the feel of his mouth on mine, his hands on my body, my hands on his, and the absolute rightness of it all.

  His hand went between my legs and grabbed me through my jeans. Normally, it would have been exciting, but tonight, it hurt. The pain was immediate. It helped me swim back up to the top of my mind. I could think again, rather than just feel.

  Richard, stop, I said, and it was almost a yell.

  He touched my face. You dont want me to stop.

  I stared at the floor, as if the stained, clothes-strewn carpet were all-important. I do want you to stop.

  Look at me, Anita.

  I shook my head and started to move away from him, still on my knees. He grabbed my arm. The feel of his bare skin on mine almost undid me, but whatever was happening was a type of vampire power and Id spent years fighting that. I breathed through the almost crazed desire to have more of his skin touch mine. It was like a mixture of the ardeur and vampire gaze. Shit.

  Let go, Richard, now. My voice was breathy, but clear. Point for me.

  I can feel how much you want me to touch you, he said, and his own voice was tight with power, or desire, or both.

  I felt his body, not just through his hand, but all of it. It was as if I could feel every inch of him, so warm, so alive, soyummy. I did want to touch him. I wanted to strip off and roll around on top of him. Again, it felt like the ardeur, but different. But this time I was on the wrong end of it. It was as if Richard were the one projecting the ardeur at me, not the other way around. Jean-Claude held the ardeur, but hed always behaved himself. In this moment with Richard, I knew just how much Jean-Claude had behaved himself.

  I thought, Jean-Claude, help me.

  The bathroom door opened behind us. Jason stood in the doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist.

  Go away, Richard said.

  Help me, I said.

  I had a moment to feel sorry for Jason. He was so screwed. If he helped me, his Ulfric would be pissed. If he didnt help me, Id be pissed, and so would Jean-Claude. I had a moment to appreciate his dilemma, caught between the werewolf and the vampire. But even appreciating his problem, I couldnt care as much about his problem as my own. Richard had finally inherited the ardeur, and he was using it on me.

  50

  J ASON SPOKE SLOWLY, carefully, in that voice you use for people on ledges, when theyre far, far above the ground. Richard, Anita, whats happening?

  Leave us alone, Jason, Richard said. He tried to pull me in closer to his body.

  I braced with my other arm and my knees, the way I did sometimes in judo. Not when you think you can win the fight, but when youve simply decided that youll make them hurt you before they win. I wasnt strong enough to keep Richard from drawing me into his body, if thats what he wanted, but I was strong enough to make him hurt me to do it. It was the best I could do. The Browning was on the bed, and truthfully, I wouldnt shoot Richard. He knew it, and I knew it. Oh, there had been moments when I might have, and a knife I might have used, but not a gun. I wouldnt have risked killing him. Once you give up the idea of killing someone bigger and stronger than you are, you are, to an extent, at their mercy. You better hope that theyre merciful.

  I would have looked at Richards face to try to see if there was any mercy there, but I was afraid to meet his eyes again. It was hard enough to fight his power with just his hand on my arm. I couldnt afford to fall into his eyes again. I wasnt sure I would be able to crawl back out. There was something different to his version of the ardeur. For lack of a better word, there was more life to it. My strongest powers lay with the dead, not the living. Richard was so very much alive.

  Its the ardeur, Jason said, but it doesnt make me want to touch you, Anita.

  Go back into the bathroom, Jason, Richard said; there was a faint edge of growl to his voice now.

  Jason gripped the doorjamb tight enough that his fingers mottled. Its so strong, I cant breathe past it, but its all directed at you, Anita. I can feel it, like a thought in the air. He wants you to want him, and only him. God, its so strong.

  I said, Help me.

  Richard said, Get out.

  Richard, Ulfric, youre doing the very same thing you accused Jean-Claude of doing, Jason said.

  Richards head jerked up, and he looked at Jason. Jason looked away from that gaze. Your eyes are glowing as if you were a vampire, Richard. I know not to look a vampire in the eyes when they look like that. Jason let the fear sound in his voice. It sounded real, and it was one of the first times Id realized that he was afraid of the vampires.

  I kept my arm braced on the floor as Richard tried to draw me to him. But it wasnt the strength in his hand that was hard to resist. It was the warm, crushing embrace of his power. It was like something alive, warm, and wanting. Something that pulled at me, as surely as his hand. It wasnt just about lust, but the promise that if I would just let go, he would wrap me in the warm safety of his love, and there would be no more pain, no more uncertainty. But Id felt something like this before. Auggie, Master of Chicago, could make you love him. But even Auggie had never made it feel like this. This felt real. But of course, it was real, or had been. Auggie had been a stranger, the logic in my head had known it was a trick, but what Richard offered felt real, because once it almost had been. Once, the belief that his love would heal all the old wounds, and finally make me feel safe, had been true. True, and a lie. Love is real, and false, even true love. Because love alone cannot keep you safe, if there is still a trembling fear inside you. Still a knowledge of what it was like to love and believe and have it all taken away. It wasnt my fianc in college that haunted me. It was, as always, my mothers death. If that truth couldnt hold, then what chance did any man have?

  It was that thought that helped me push against the warmth of Richards power. It was that thought that helped me swim against the current of his love. Just as his hands had been too rough and caused me pain, this loss was the biggest pain I had. It was the gaping black hole inside of me that had filled up with rage so long ago. It was the place that my anger came from, and went back to, like the tides of some bloody ocean. Pain always helped you push back vampire powers.

  I let myself feel that loss, that I spent most of my time not thinking about. I let the rage and loss fill me, and there was no lust, no desire, no love, that could win against such sorrow.

  People talk of sorrow as if it is soft, a thing of water and tears. But true sorrow is not soft. True sorrow is a thing of fire, and rock. It burns your heart, crushes your soul under the weight of mountains. It destroys, and even if you keep breathing, keep going, you die. The person you were moments ago dies, dies in the sound of screaming metal and the impact of one bad driver. Gone. Everything solid, everything real, is gone. It doesnt come back. The world is forever fractured, so that you walk on the crust of an earth where you can always feel the heat under you, the press of lava, that is so hot it can burn flesh, melt bo
ne, and the very air is poisonous. To survive, you swallow the heat. To keep from falling through and dying for real, you swallow all that hate. You push it down inside you, into that fresh grave that is all that is left of what you thought the world would be.

  I was not foolish enough to look into his eyes, but my voice was solid, and sure of itself, as I said, Let go of me, Richard. You cant make me feel safe. You cant fix whats wrong with me.

  I love you, he said, and his voice was full of everything those words meant for him.

  You love me so much that you would use vampire wiles to force me into your arms.

  He stopped trying to pull me to him and came to me. He closed that small distance and wrapped his arms around me. Minutes before, held in his arms like this, I would have done anything he wanted. But it was too late. He held my body, but my heart was cold. It was the way I had lived for years. Cold and hot, sorrow and rage; it had been the world to me until Jean-Claude found a way inside the walls Id built.

  I understood in that moment why it had been Jean-Claude and not Richard who had broken down those walls. Jean-Claude had had his own sorrow and rage when I met him. He had known what it was to have everything he wanted, real love, real security, and to lose it all. Richard hadnt understood. He had believed in the goodness of the universe. I hadnt believed in that since I was eight. Jean-Claude hadnt believed in words like goodness for centuries.

  Sometimes its not the light in a person that you fall in love with, but the dark. Sometimes its not the optimist you need, but another pessimist to walk beside you and know, absolutely know, that the sound in the dark is a monster, and it really is as bad as you think.

  Did that sound hopeless? It didnt feel hopeless. It felt reassuring. It feltreal.

  Richard held my chin in his hand. It began as a gentle gesture, but when I didnt meet his eyes, his hand squeezed. He tried to force me to look into his eyes. I couldnt stop him, but I could make him hurt me to do it. The pain helped me distance myself from him. He held me so close that it was like being wrapped in a warm blanket of energy, but what he meant to be comforting felt as if I were too hot. It was a choking, close heat, as if the air were too thick to breathe.