"Let's go home," I said.
"That's my cue to part company," Jason said.
"You're welcome to bunk over if you want," I said.
He shook his head. "No, since I'm not needed to referee the fight, or for sage advice, I'll go home, too. Besides, I couldn't stand listening to the three of you get all hot and heavy and not be invited to play." He laughed and added, "Don't get mad, but having once been included, it's harder to be excluded."
I fought the blush that burned up my face, which always seemed to make the blush darker and harder.
Jason and I had had sex once. Before I realized it was possible to love someone to death with the ardeur , Nathaniel had collapsed at work and been off the feeding schedule for a few days. Micah hadn't been in the house, and the ardeur had risen early. Hours early. It had been interference from Belle Morte, the originator of Jean-Claude's bloodline, and the first, to my knowledge, possessor of the ardeur. It only ran through her line of vamps, nowhere else. The fact that I carried it had raised very interesting metaphysical questions. Belle had wanted to understand what I was, and she had also thought it would raise some hell. Belle was a good business-y vampire, but when she could take care of business and make trouble, all the better. So it hadn't been my fault, but my choices had been limited to taking Nathaniel and possibly killing him, or letting Jason take one for the team. He'd been happy to do it. Very happy. And strangely our friendship had survived it, but every once in a while I couldn't pretend it hadn't happened, and that made me uncomfortable.
"I love the fact that I can make you blush, now," he said.
"I don't."
He laughed, but there was something in his eyes that was more serious than laughter. "I need to tell you something, in private, before you go running off, though."
I didn't like how suddenly serious he was. I'd learned in the last few months that Jason used his teasing and laughter as a shield to hide a rather insightful intelligence that was sometimes so perceptive it was painful. I didn't like his request for privacy either. What couldn't he say in front of Micah and Nathaniel? And why?
Out loud I said, "Okay." I started off to the far side of the parking lot away from the Jeep, and farther away from Ronnie and Louie, who even a glance showed were still having a quiet screaming match.
When the shade of the trees that edged the church parking lot lay cool above us, I stopped and turned to Jason. "What's up?"
"The thing on the dance floor was sort of my fault."
"In what way, your fault?"
He actually looked embarrassed, which you didn't see much from Jason. "He wanted to know how I got to have sex with you, real sex, the very first time I helped feed the ardeur. "
"Technically, it was the second," I said.
He frowned at me. "Yeah, but that was when the ardeur was brand new and we didn't have intercourse, and there were three other men in the bed."
I turned away so the dark would help hide the blush, though truthfully he could probably smell it hot on my skin. "Sorry I brought it up, you were saying?"
"He's been in your bed for what, four months?"
"Something like that," I said.
"And he's not had intercourse yet, hell, he's not had orgasm, not real orgasm with like release and everything."
I couldn't blush harder or my head would explode. "I'm listening."
"Anita, you can't keep pretending that Nathaniel isn't real."
"That's not fair."
"Maybe not, but I had no idea that you weren't at least doing him orally or by hand, or watching him do himself. Something, anything."
I just shook my head and looked at the ground. I couldn't think of anything good to say. If I hadn't just had my metaphysical peek inside Nathaniel's head, I would probably have gotten angry, or rude. But I'd seen too far into Nathaniel's pain, and I couldn't pretend anymore. Couldn't ignore it.
"I thought that by not doing the final stuff that it would make it easier for him when the ardeur gets under control and I don't need a pomme de sang anymore."
"Is that still your idea, to just dump him when you have enough control that you don't need to feed?"
"What am I supposed to do with him? Keep him like a pet, or a really big child?"
"He's not a child, and he's not a pet," Jason said, and the first hint of anger was in his voice.
"I know that, and that's the problem, Jason. If the ardeur hadn't come up I'd have been Nathaniel's Nimir-Ra, and his friend, and that would have been it. Now, suddenly he's in this category that I don't even have a name for."
"He's your pomme de sang like I'm Jean-Claude's."
"You and Jean-Claude aren't fucking, and nobody gets upset about that."
"No, because he lets me date. I have lovers if I want them."
"I've been encouraging Nathaniel to date. I want him to have girlfriends."
"And your not-so-subtly encouraging him to look at other women made him turn to me for advice."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"He doesn't want to date other people. He wants to be with you, and Micah, and the vampires. He doesn't want another woman in his life."
"I am not the woman in his life."
"Yes, you are, you just don't want to be."
I leaned against one of the narrow tree trunks. "Oh, Jason, what am I going to do?"
"Finish what you started with Nathaniel, be his lover."
I shook my head. "I don't want that."
"The hell you don't. I watch the way you react around him."
"Lust isn't enough, Jason. I don't love him."
"I'd argue that, too."
"I don't love him the way I need to."
"Need to, for what, Anita? Need to for your conscience? Your sense of morality? Just give him some of what he needs, Anita. Don't break yourself doing it, but bend a little. That's all I'm asking."
"You said the thing on the dance floor was sort of your fault. You never explained that."
"I told Nathaniel you don't like passive men. You like a little dominance, a little pushiness. Not much, but enough so that you aren't the one that says, Yes, we'll have sex. You need someone to take a little of the responsibility off your shoulders."
I stared at him, studied that young face. "Is that all it is for me, Jason? I just need someone else to help me spread the guilt around so I can fuck?"
He winced. "That isn't what I said."
"Close enough."
"Get mad, if you want, but that isn't what I said, or what I meant. Get mad at me, but don't take it out on Nathaniel, okay?"
"I was raised that if you had sex it was a commitment. I still believe that."
"You don't feel committed to me." He said it as if it were just a fact, nothing personal.
"No, we're friends, and I was sort of a friend in need. But you're a grownup, and you understood what it was. I'm not sure Nathaniel is enough of a grown-up to understand that. Hell, he can't even say no to women who are almost strangers."
"He turned down at least three dance offers while we were talking, and I know for a fact that he turned down the beautiful Jessica Arnet for a date."
"He did, really?"
Jason nodded. "Yep."
"I didn't think he'd be able to say no."
"He's been practicing."
"Practicing?"
"He tells you no sometimes, doesn't he?"
I thought about it. "Sometimes he won't repeat conversations to me, or tell me things. He says I'll get mad at him, and so I should ask the other person."
"You wanted, no, demanded, that Nathaniel be more responsible for himself. You made him get his driver's license. You've forced him to be less dependent, right?"
"Yeah."
"But you didn't think what it would mean, did you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You wanted him to be independent, to think for himself, to decide what he wanted out of life, right?"
"Yeah, in fact, I said almost exactly that to him. I wanted him to decide what he w
anted to do with his life. I mean he's only twenty for God's sake."
"And what he's decided he wants to do is be with you," Jason said, and his voice was softer, gentle.
"That is not a life decision. I meant like a career choice, maybe go back to college."
"He's got a job, Anita, and he makes better money as a stripper than most college graduates do."
"You can't strip forever," I said.
"And most marriages don't last forever either."
My eyes must have gotten too wide, because he hurried with his next words, "What I mean is that you treat everything like it's a forever question. Like you can't change your mind later. I don't mean to imply that Nathaniel wants you to make an honest man of him. That never came up, honest."
"Well, that's a relief, at least."
"You'll need a pomme de sang for years, Anita. Years."
"Jean-Claude said maybe in a few months I'd be able to feed from a distance, and not need the up close and personal stuff."
"You've made progress on going longer between feedings, Anita. But you haven't made much progress on truly controlling the ardeur. "
"I controlled it on the dance floor," I said.
He sighed. "You shut it down on the dance floor. That's not control, not really. It's like you have a gun, and you can lock it in the gun safe, but that doesn't teach you how to shoot it."
"A gun analogy? You've been thinking on this for awhile, haven't you?"
"Ever since Nathaniel told me that you hadn't been allowing him release during the feedings."
"Allow? He didn't ask, and how was I supposed to know he wasn't even doing himself in private? I mean, I didn't tell him not to."
"You can play with yourself, and it feels good, but it doesn't meet the real need."
I pushed my back tight into the tree, as if the solid wood could catch me, because I felt like I was falling. Falling into a chasm so deep that I'd never get out. "I don't know if I can do Nathaniel and still look at myself in the mirror in the morning."
"Why does doing Nathaniel bother you that much?"
"Because he confuses my radar. I have friends, I have boyfriends, I have people who are dependent on me, people I take care of. I do not fuck the people I take care of. It would be like taking advantage of your position."
"And Nathaniel falls into the taking care of category?" he asked.
"Yes."
"You think by having sex that you're taking advantage?"
"Yes."
"That's not how Nathaniel sees it."
"I know that, Jason, now." I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the roughness of the bark. "Damn it, I want the ardeur under control so I don't have to keep making these kinds of decisions."
"And if I could wave a magic wand over you and you instantly could control the ardeur , what then? What would you do with Nathaniel?"
"I'd help him find a place of his own."
"He does most of the housework around your place. He buys your groceries. He and Micah do most of the cooking. Nathaniel taking care of the domestic stuff is what allows Micah and you both to work all those hours. Without Nathaniel, how would you organize it?"
"I don't want to keep Nathaniel just to make my life easier. That's like evil."
Jason let out a big sigh. "Are you really this slow, or just driving me crazy on purpose?"
"What?" I said.
He shook his head. "Anita, what I'm trying to say is that Nathaniel doesn't feel used. He feels useful. He doesn't need a girlfriend, because he thinks he already has one. He doesn't want to date, because he's already living with someone. He doesn't need to look for a place of his own, because he already has one. Micah knows that, Nathaniel knows that, the only person who doesn't know that seems to be you."
"Jason..."
He stopped me with a raised hand. "Anita, you have two men who live with you. They both love you. They both want you. They both support your career. Between the two of them, they're like your wife. There are people in this world who would kill to have what you have. And you'd just throw it away."
I just looked at him, because I didn't know what to say.
"The only thing that keeps this little domestic arrangement from being perfect for all concerned is that Nathaniel is not getting his needs met." He stepped in close to me, but the look on his face was so serious that it never occurred to me that kissing was coming, because it wasn't. "You've set up the dynamics so that you wear the pants in this trio, and that's fine, it works for Micah and Nathaniel. But here's the hard part about wearing the pants, Anita, it means you get to make the tough decisions. Your life is working better than it's worked since I met you. You've been happier, longer, than I've ever seen you. Micah, I don't know that well, but Nathaniel has never been this happy in all the years I've known him. Everything is working, Anita. Everybody is making it work. Everybody but..."
"Me," I said.
"You," he said.
"You know, Jason, I can't say you're wrong about any of it, but I hate you right this second."
"Hate me, if you want to, but I'm tired of watching people have everything their heart desires and throw it away."
"This isn't what my heart desired," I said.
"Maybe not, but it's what you needed. You needed a wife in that old 1950s sort of way."
"Doesn't everybody," I said.
He grinned at me. "No, some people would like to be the wife, but I just can't find a woman who's man enough to keep me in the style to which I have not yet become accustomed."
It made me smile. Damn it. "You are the only one who can say shit like this to me, and not have me pissed at them for days, or longer. How do you get away with it?"
He planted a quick kiss on my lips, more brotherly than anything. "I don't know how I get away with it, but if I could bottle it, Jean-Claude would pay a fortune for it."
"Maybe not just Jean-Claude."
"Maybe not." He stepped back smiling, but his eyes had that serious look again. "Please, Anita, go home, and don't freak. Just go home, and be happy. Be happy, and let everyone around you be happy. Is that so hard?"
When Jason said it like that, it didn't seem hard. In fact, it seemed to make a lot of sense, but inside, it felt hard. Inside it felt like the hardest thing in the world. To just let go, and not pick everything to death. To just let go and enjoy what you had. To just let go and not make everybody around you miserable with your own internal dialogue. To just let go and be happy. So simple. So difficult. So terrifying.
10
A car squealed out of the parking lot, as Jason walked me back to the Jeep. I only had a moment to see it, before it blasted out into the street, but I recognized the car. Apparently Ronnie was driving them home, but the fight wasn't over. Not my problem. God knew I had enough relationship problems without sticking my nose into someone else's. Of course, sometimes no matter how hard you try to stay out of something, you can't.
"Can I grab a ride home?" It was Louie Fane, Dr. Louis Fane, though his doctorate wasn't in the biology of humans, but in the biology of bats. His doctoral thesis had been on the adaptation of the Little Brown Bat to human habitation. Actually his work with bats, a different species, had put him in a cave with a wererat that attacked him. It's how he got to be furry once a month.
"Sure," Jason and I said in unison.
Louie smiled. "I just need one ride, but thanks." His eyes, which were truly black, not just darkest brown like mine, didn't match the smile. The eyes were still angry.
"His place is on the way to the Circus," Jason said.
I nodded. "Okay." I looked at Louie and wanted to ask what the fight had been about, and didn't want to ask what the fight had been about. I settled for, "Are you okay?"
He shook his head. "Ronnie will probably call you tomorrow and tell you anyway. I guess you might as well know, or maybe you can talk some sense into her."
I gave a half-shrug. "I don't know. Ronnie can be pretty stubborn."
Jason laughed. "You calling someo
ne else stubborn, that's rich."
I frowned at him. "You sure you don't want to ride home with us, instead of Mr. Comedy here?"
He shook his head. "I'm on Jason's way home." He still hadn't told us what the fight was about. Was I supposed to remind him, or let it go?
"Do you want some privacy here?" Jason asked.
Louie sighed. "Yes, if you don't mind."
"I'll say good night to Micah and Nathaniel, and I'll be waiting by my car." He waved at me and walked away.
For the second, no, the third time that night I was standing out in the cool shadows of the trees getting a heart-to-heart talk with another man. This one wasn't even my boyfriend or occasional food.
"What's wrong, Louie?"
"I asked Ronnie to marry me tonight."
I'd been prepared for a lot of things, but that hadn't even occurred to me. Marriage? I just gaped at him. When I could close my mouth and pretend to be intelligent, I said, "And why the fight, then?"
"She said, no." He didn't look at me as he said it. He stared off into the dark, his hands plunged into the pockets of his dress slacks, ruining the line of his jacket, but giving him something to do with his hands.
"She said, no," I repeated it, as if I hadn't heard it right.
He glanced at me then. "You sound surprised."
"Well, last I knew you guys were getting along really well." Actually, the last time Ronnie had confided in me it had been a conversation that had set us both giggling, because it had been mostly about sex. We'd both overshared, which women do more than men, and the sex had been as good between her and Louie as it had been between me and Micah. Which was pretty damned good. Ronnie had had this mistaken idea that dating Micah meant I'd dumped Jean-Claude. When she found out it didn't mean that, she'd not taken it well. She just couldn't seem to cope with me dating the undead. Picky, picky. I could joke, but her last stand on Jean-Claude had been adamant enough that we hadn't talked much since.
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