"What did that gain her?" I asked.
"She's controlling us all through fear of her power. If we'd known that power had limits, we might have pushed back more. Hell, Anita, she had some pretty powerful people under her power. If they had known the land itself was fighting back, it might have made them fight harder to be free. Her animal to call is seal, so she can call the Roane, or Selkies."
"I thought they were considered a type of fairy creature, not a shapeshifter," I said.
"I know that's what folklore says, but from my experience they reacted to her the same way that the wolves react to Jean-Claude, or the tigers interact with you. She can call real seals to do her bidding and their half-human counterparts the same way that I've seen other master vampires call their natural animals and their preternatural ones."
Nathaniel said, "Maybe folklore thinks they're fairy creatures, because they didn't know what else to call them?"
"Maybe," I said.
"Knowing the land itself was fighting her might have been enough to get the Selkies to fight harder for their freedom. The rest of us were created by her, part of her bloodline, but the Selkies are born free folk. Only her magic, or the theft of their sealskin, could bind them to someone on land as a slave."
"Like the stories of the seal maidens where fishermen stole their skins and forced them to be their wives," I said.
"Yes."
"Some of those legends are supposed to be romantic stories," I said.
"There's nothing romantic about a man stealing something of yours and then blackmailing you into his bed or forcing you to marry him, Anita."
"When you say it like that, no," I said.
"Remember that the romantic versions of these stories were told in centuries when women didn't always have a lot of freedom to choose a husband. Ancient Ireland had some of the best laws for women when it came to marriage, but overall marriage was less about romance and more about land, wealth, safety, and procreation. I mean inheritance and the safety of land and even countries. The idea that marriage is about romance and love is such a new idea."
"Curse those French troubadours," I said.
He smiled. "The British troubadours helped spread the new ideas, too."
"I guess when singing and poetry were your major entertainment, that was the way new ideas traveled."
"A good singing voice, someone who could play an instrument or recite poetry and tell a good story--they were so important that some rulers would compete to have the great bards under their roofs. A good jester wasn't just to amuse the king but to help the rest of the court while away the formal feasts. Traveling theatrical troupes were welcome in all the major cities of Europe, and the small ones, though actors were usually paid better in larger cities."
"You were a young Viking before you became a vampire. How do you know all that?"
"She brought over an actor and a few of his troupe to entertain us. She pretended at the time that she thought making them all vampires would endanger our hiding places, but now I know that she couldn't raise them all. She wasn't strong enough. Gods, just saying that is frightening and thrilling at the same time."
"Why frightening and thrilling?" Nathaniel asked.
"Because to question her meant punishment. I left Ireland believing that she was all-powerful. To know that she's not is exciting, because that means that maybe I could rescue the ones I left behind."
"I didn't know you left anyone behind," I said.
"Not in the way you mean, probably, but you spend centuries with anyone and you become something to each other."
"Friends?" Nathaniel asked.
"True friendship was not encouraged, and in fact any relationship that didn't revolve around her was actively discouraged."
"How actively?" I asked.
"Not as actively as a lover that you might prefer to her. I mean, she wouldn't kill someone that you were just friendly with, but actively enough that she made certain you'd remember the lesson."
"So if not a lover or a friend, who did you leave behind?" I asked.
"You can't actually keep people from being friends, Anita. There are people that I would rescue from her slavery if I could without risking falling back into it myself. I hate myself for saying it that way, but it's the truth. One of the things I had to understand about myself was that I wasn't that brave. In battle, sure, that's easy, but everyday torture and torment . . . I'm not that kind of brave."
"Everyone breaks, Damian," I said.
He looked at me. "No, Anita, not everyone."
"Edward told me that everyone breaks eventually. Maybe the people you're thinking of just haven't hit their eventually yet."
Damian looked down at his hands where he was still holding the towel across his lap. "How many centuries does someone have to stand up to torment before you call them unbreakable?"
"I don't know what to say to that, Damian."
"How many centuries are we talking about?" Nathaniel asked.
"Eight hundred years."
"That's a very long time," Nathaniel said, raising his eyebrows to go with the comment.
"Eight hundred years, okay; how about we call him hard to break?" I said.
Damian looked at me. "You believe that everyone has their eventually, don't you?"
"I do."
"But you still want me to go back to Ireland and give her another chance at me."
"No, I want you to go back to Ireland and help us stop a bunch of murdering vampires from killing people. Police and our own guards will be with you."
"Will I have to talk to her?"
"I doubt it, but even if you do, you'll be guarded by our people and the police."
"And Anita and I will both be there," Nathaniel said.
I shook my head. "No."
"You just said it yourself: We'll have our own guards and the police. I'm not going out hunting vampires with you. I'll just be there to make sure Damian has all the power our triad can give him."
"We're not taking him back to challenge his old mistress to a duel, Nathaniel."
"I know that, but we have more power together than apart."
"More power would be good," Damian said.
"Jean-Claude does just fine without Richard at our side all the time," I said.
"Let's ask him," Nathaniel said.
"And if he says what you want him to say, then what?"
"Then we all go to Ireland."
"And if I keep saying no?"
"You wouldn't tell Micah no, or Jean-Claude."
"That's different."
"How?"
"It just is." And yes, I heard that it sounded lame.
"Yes, neither of them would help me have more power, because they aren't part of my triumvirate," Damian said.
"You both keep saying that we raised more power than ever before with Nathaniel leading the way, but how do we know we raised any power? All we really know for certain is that the three of us had sex without you and me angsting about it and getting in each other's way. The two of us don't even remember much of it."
The two men looked around me at each other. "I feel more energized," Nathaniel said.
"So do I, but maybe that's just the rush after sex," Damian said.
"I can't afford to have Nathaniel roll me while I'm working the case. I mean, how would the Irish police react if their two vampire experts got mind-fucked by their leopard and lost hours while they were supposed to be crime busting?"
"I didn't mean to make us lose hours," Nathaniel said.
"I know, but when the metaphysics first come online like this, there's always a learning curve. I don't want that curve to be when the police or Edward needs me most, needs us most."
"I thought I knew exactly what had happened and what needed to happen. I felt so certain that I should stay with you and Damian, that you'd need me there. He'd need me there. Am I wrong? Am I just wanting our triumvirate to work that way?"
"What way?" I asked.
"So that I'm essential, and that the th
ree of us being together does raise power and strength for all of us."
"You're essential to me," I said, smiling, and rubbing my hand up and down his thigh.
He smiled and patted my hand where I touched him, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. They stayed serious and unhappy.
"Let's talk to Jean-Claude," Damian said.
"Why?" I asked.
"He knows more about controlling a triumvirate than we do. If anyone will know the answer to our questions, it's him."
I couldn't think of a better idea. I thought Damian would insist on getting clothes, but he didn't. He seemed just fine with tightening the towel around his waist and padding barefoot up the hallway to Jean-Claude's room. Nathaniel would have been fine with it, but it wasn't like Damian at all. Nathaniel gave me a sad look and mouthed, I'm sorry.
I shrugged, because maybe it was temporary.
Damian looked back at us; his longer legs had taken him effortlessly ahead of us down the hallway. He flashed a grin so big it showed off the dainty points of his fangs. I could count on one hand the number of times that he had done that when he was in his right mind. Crap. Then he waited for us to catch up with him, and he took Nathaniel's hand in his and we went hand in hand down the corridor. He started humming under his breath. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen him so relaxed and happy before. Nathaniel and I exchanged a look.
"Don't be gloomy," Damian said to us both. "I remember now what else I was thinking: that I wanted to be happy." He swung Nathaniel's hand in his as if he were about to start skipping down the hallway. "I am happy. I feel happy, just happy with no guilt, no fear. We'll go to Ireland and it will be all right. Now that the human police know about her and the rest of us, doesn't she fall under human law just like the little people who deal with the human authorities?"
"Yes, it should work that way," I said.
"Then she's holding people against their will, and that's illegal, right?"
"Yes," I said, studying his happy face.
"Then the police will help us free the people I left behind."
"Theoretically," I said.
He shook his head, and his hair was still so wet it clung to his neck and shoulders rather than moving with the gesture. "Or maybe just telling the Roane that She-Who-Made-Us has lost control of the city and can't stop an invasion of foreign vampires will be enough."
"Enough for what?" Nathaniel asked.
"Only fear of her power and obedience to their ruler keep the seal folk from fighting against their enslavement."
"You think once you tell them she's losing power, that will change," I said.
The happiness in his eyes changed to something closer to rage. It flashed in green fire for a moment deep in his eyes, and then he was smiling again. "Yes, yes, they will rise up if they think they can win."
"You seem very certain," I said.
He swung Nathaniel's hand again. "I feel very certain of a lot of things today. I didn't when I first woke up for the night. I didn't when you came to talk to me, but somewhere in all the talking I just started feeling better and better. I think it's seeing the two of you." He actually raised Nathaniel's hand as if he meant to kiss it, then stopped himself with a bemused smile on his face. "This isn't like me at all, is it?"
"Nope," I said.
"No," Nathaniel said.
He looked lost for a moment and then laid his lips gently to the back of the other man's hand. He rose back up and started walking down the hallway with us, still hand in hand. "I don't care. I feel . . . hopeful for the first time in centuries. We can do this."
"Do what?" I asked.
"Stop the vampires in Dublin and rescue everyone that I left behind." He sounded so certain. Nathaniel looked at me and I gave a small head shake. We'd let Damian have his moment. Who were we to rain on someone's moment of unadulterated happiness, hope, and certainty of victory? Moments like that were too rare to spoil. Usually they came with good antidepressants, or alcohol, that rush after great sex, or the first blush of being in love when all things seem possible, and apparently, vampire mind tricks. Who knew?
23
DAMIAN LOUNGED IN the second big chair by the electric fire in Jean-Claude's room. He was still smiling, happy, and relaxed. He sat in the chair wearing nothing but the towel and even his mannerisms were more like Nathaniel's, or maybe Jason's, or even Jean-Claude's if he was trying for nonchalant. Either this was a part of Damian that I'd never seen, or he was being seriously impacted by whatever Nathaniel had done to him.
Jean-Claude sat in the other big chair across from him and asked, "Is this a problem, or a desired result, ma petite, mon minou?"
Nathaniel and I exchanged a look. He gave a small shrug. I answered, "Sort of both."
"Explain, please," he said.
"Damian was wishing that Anita and I would desire him the way we desire Micah."
"Not as you desire me?" Jean-Claude asked.
I don't know what Nathaniel would have said, because Damian said, "I could never be you, Jean-Claude. No one is you."
Jean-Claude gave a small bow that seemed to involve just his neck and barely his shoulders. He made it look utterly graceful. I'd have looked like I was having a spasm in my neck. "A pretty compliment from a pretty man."
I waited for Damian to get stiff and vaguely offended, but he laughed, damn near giggled, and did a bow from his waist while sitting down, and damn me if it wasn't graceful and very sexy. That might have been helped along by the fact that he let go of his towel to sweep his hand out and down as if he were holding a hat to touch to his chest, so the towel slid into his lap, leaving the tops of his hips bare. The towel covered the tops of his thighs and the critical area of his lap, but not much else as he settled back into the chair.
"You have never taken a compliment of that nature from me with such grace, Damian," Jean-Claude said.
The other vampire smiled. "I am sorry for that, Jean-Claude, truly."
"You are comfortable with me saying you are pretty, attractive even?"
"You are one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen. Why would it not be a compliment coming from you? Most people live their whole lives waiting for someone like you to want them."
Jean-Claude narrowed his eyes and took in a long breath, and let it out even slower. "I do see your problem, my pretties."
"I did not mean to do this," Nathaniel said.
"It's like he's drunk," I said.
"Not drunk, ma petite, but freed of his usual doubts and personal issues. You have had our werewolf, Richard, almost this relaxed through my powers."
I thought about it, and finally nodded. "I have, but it didn't last like this, or get . . . stronger."
"Is he getting more at ease as time goes on?"
Nathaniel and I both nodded.
"That is interesting. I offered the ability to be at ease to Richard and he agreed, but he could not let himself sink into it completely. He fought against it, because so much of what vexes him are lines that he does not wish to cross."
"Richard would so do you, if he could get out of his own way," Damian said, and he laughed again.
"Bluntly put, but I believe he would have done so at least once by now if his issues were not entrenched so deeply in his psyche."
"What man doesn't like dishing it out?" Damian said.
"He does seem intoxicated," Jean-Claude said, looking at us.
"Why is it just Damian and not all three of us?" I asked.
"Nathaniel was in control. In effect he played master so he would not be . . . intoxicated."
"Okay, why isn't it hitting me?"
"For the same reason that my powers do not intoxicate you."
"And that reason would be?" I asked.
"You are a master in your own right, as is Richard."
"So we're powerful enough to fight off the effects?" I asked.
"And I believe that neither of you wishes the effects to be permanent."
"You are too far away," Damian said, holding his hands out to th
e room.
"Whom are you addressing?" Jean-Claude asked.
Damian blinked and seemed to have to think harder than the question warranted. "No offense, Jean-Claude, but I was addressing Anita or Nathaniel."
"Do you have a preference for which of them comes to hold your hand?"
Again it seemed to require more thinking than it should have, but finally Damian said, "I don't . . . I don't think so, but I very much want to touch one of them."
"He was himself when we first got to the room after he woke up," I said.
"Go hold his hand, ma petite. Let us see what happens."
I wasn't sure how much I liked being an experiment, but I went because Damian's face was losing that happy glow. It was almost as if sadness were seeping in as the happiness faded. Surely there had to be more than two choices for him. What had Nathaniel's mind-fuck done to Damian?
I took his outstretched hand in mine; there was a hum of power as our fingers touched, and as more of our hands touched, the power rose until when we settled our palms against each other's, it was like a jolt of electricity, except it didn't feel bad; it felt good. It sped my pulse until I had to fight not to pant as if I'd been kissing someone too long and too hard, and forgotten to take a deep enough breath.
"Wow," I said, "that's new."
"That was amazing," Damian said; his face was flushed as if he'd taken more blood from somewhere.
"What were you thinking when you touched him, ma petite?"
"Nothing. I mean that I didn't like being the experiment and that I didn't want him sad. I preferred him happy to sad, or something like that."
"And you, Damian, what were you thinking?"
"That I wanted the power to rise between us. I want what Nathaniel did to raise our power level."
"Why?" Jean-Claude asked.
"To have more power, of course." He started rubbing his thumb along my knuckles as he said it.
"Most vampires would mean that, but you do not. You said the expected. We want the truth."
"I . . ." He looked up at me, then at Nathaniel, who was still standing in front of the fireplace halfway between the two chairs. He held his hand out mutely for the other man.
Nathaniel moved toward us, but Jean-Claude said, "Let him answer the question first, mon minou."
I squeezed Damian's hand and said, "The truth, Damian, just tell us."
He swallowed hard enough that I could watch his throat work and see the pulse in the side of his neck. He was a vampire; they didn't always have a pulse, and they certainly didn't have such a rich, throbbing beat in the side of their necks.
Crimson Death Page 27