Danse Macabre ab-14

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  She slinked on black, high-heel boots toward Graham. It was as if Clau­dia had seen this show before, because she said, "He's working, Meng Die."

  Meng Die made that delicate triangular face pout, but it never reached those up til ted eyes. She changed direction without so much as a regretful glance at Graham. And that, that was why Graham wasn't devoted to her. Why she'd almost broken Clay's heart. She'd wanted Graham, but if she couldn't have him, that was fine. No man likes to know, for certain, that it doesn't matter to a woman if he's the man in her arms or not. Come to diat, a woman doesn't like it when a man treats her that way either. Okay, no one likes knowing that they're utterly replaceable. We all like to be special.

  Meng Die slinked toward Requiem. He backed away from her. Jean-Claude said, "You are not to touch him again, Meng Die."

  She looked at Jean-Claude. "Never again?"

  "Not unless he wishes it."

  She turned that lovely face to Requiem. "Do you truly wish never to touch this body again?" She made her hands flow over her curves as she said it.

  Some of tlie men in tlie hallway followed her hands down her body. Aug-gie and his men did. Requiem didn't. Jean-Claude didn't. None of the wereleopards did. Jason did, though. The view was nice if you didn't know the mind tliat went with it.

  Meng Die walked past me, and the leopards, and die lions, like we weren't there. She went for Jason. He had looked, and he wasn't on the forbidden list.

  She entwined herself around him, head on his shoulder. Even in the heels, she was shorter. "Come play with me, Jason."

  He laughed, and shook his head. "I've got a report to give." I had no idea what report he was talking about.

  "Afterward?" She made it a question.

  He smiled, but said, "No. Thanks, but no."

  She ran her hand over the front of his jeans. Apparently, she wasn't feel­ing the least bit subtle today.

  He grabbed her wrist, and said, "No."

  She jerked away from him. "Why is it no? Because she's here?" She pointed at me.

  I hadn't known that Jason and Meng Die had had sex. It must have shown on my face, because she said, "You didn't know?"

  I shook my head.

  "We had a lot of fun, until you fucked him. Until you fed the ardeur off him."

  I stood up, and Micah and Nathaniel moved with me. "I didn't know he was your boyfriend," I said.

  "Meng Die doesn't have boyfriends," Jason said, "just people she racks."

  "And what's wrong with that?" she asked.

  "Not wrong, just not my thing."

  "You enjoyed it, Jason, I know you did."

  "You're good at fucking," he said.

  "So are you," and she made it a purr. Not a cat purr, but that alto, sultry sound that some women can make. I've never been able to do it.

  Jason grinned at her. "But sometimes I prefer to make love, not just fuck. I couldn't explain the difference to you."

  She frowned at him, the sultry look slipping around the edges. "Making love, it's all just pretty words for fucking."

  I glanced at Jean-Claude. "You couldn't teach her the difference?"

  He gave an elegant shrug. "Some lessons come too late. She was much abused by the time I found her."

  "No," Meng Die said, "no, my story is not for her. I want no one's pity, least of all hers."

  Jean-Claude gave that Gallic shrug again, that meant yes, no, everything, and nothing. "As you like," he said.

  "You just fuck Anita, too." She'd turned back to Jason.

  He smiled, but gender this time. "Anita makes it impossible to just fuck her."

  "What does that mean?" Meng Die asked.

  "She was my friend, my good friend, before we ever had sex. You can't just fuck someone that's important to you. Because if you screw it up, you lose more than potential sex, you lose your friend. Her friendship was more im­portant to me than the sex, so it had to be making love, not just racking."

  "I don't understand you," she said.

  Requiem's voice then. "Because sex is almost never casual for Anita, it makes sex with Anita almost never casual."

  Meng Die shook her head. "I don't understand."

  "I know you do not," he said, "and for that I am sorry."

  "Don't pity me!" She shouted it.

  I couldn't see any weapons on her, but die leather could have hidden sur­prises. Slender surprises, but blades can be amazingly easy to hide.

  "I want to fuck, who will fuck me?" Her words hit the air like a stone, and smashed into a suddenly heavy silence.

  She looked at the men one at a time. She went to Damian, but he backed up, shaking his head. "Why shake your head? She is your master, not your wife."

  Damian actually looked a little embarrassed, as he said, "We fuck when we can't find anyone else."

  Again, news to me.

  "So, I am who you fuck if you can't find anyone else, really?" That purring contralto went from sounding sexy to sounding ominous.

  "You've turned me down enough, Meng Die. When Graham, or Clay, or Requiem was available, you didn't even look at me. It stops being flattering to be last on a woman's list."

  She looked at Auggie, and he just said, "We're doing business."

  She turned to Noel. He backed away, as if she'd struck at him. "You scare me," he said.

  "But Anita does not scare you?"

  "She scares me less than you do."

  Meng Die frowned at him. "Why?"

  I didn't expect Noel to answer, but he did. "Anita may hurt me by acci­dent, but I think you'd hurt me just to see me bleed." Damn perceptive for walking food.

  I felt London coming down the hallway. Felt him in a way that I shouldn't have been able to feel him. He was seeking me, using his vampire powers to find his fix again. I looked up, and found him coming toward us, all dark and pale.

  Meng Die's face brightened when she saw London. She practically skipped toward him. He glanced at her, but that was all. His eyes were set on me as if I were his north star and he were lost at sea without me. Shit.

  She slid her small hand through the bend of his arm, their black-on-black clothing blending together nicely. "Come on, London, let's leave them to their business."

  "Not right now," he said, and didn't look at her when he said it. He looked at me.

  She stiffened, gazing slowly up at him, then followed where he was look­ing. She came to me, and started shaking her head. "No," she said, "not London. You think he's dark and morose."

  "He is dark and morose," I said.

  "But you fucked him anyway," she said.

  I shrugged, and gave her the "sorry" face. I mean, what was I supposed to say?

  "You don't even like him," she said.

  "It was sort of an accident," I said.

  "How do you accidentally have sex?"

  It was a good question. I did not have a good answer.

  London walked away from her. He never looked at her as he glided to­ward me.

  I watched her face pale with anger. Her hand slid to the small of her back, and I knew she had a weapon. I took a breath to say something, but Claudia and Lisandro were ahead of me. The guns under their arms just seemed to magically appear in their hands. Claudia's gun touched Meng Die's shining black hair. Lisandro's hand was hidden by Meng Die's slender back.

  Claudia said one word. "Don't."

  Everyone on our side of the hallway moved closer to us. Everyone behind Meng Die moved farther down the hallway. Everyone except the body­guards, that is. The bodyguards on Pierce and Octavius started to join them, but I shook my head. They stayed at their posts. We had four guards on Meng Die, two of them with guns plastered to her. Two extra guards wouldn't make a difference on her, but it might on Auggie and his crew.

  It was one of those moments when the world seems to hold its breath. Be­cause the next breath may be someone's last.

  "Do not die this way." Jean-Claude said it in a voice that shivered down the skin. But he was directing that voice at her, especially for he
r. I knew what it was like to be the target of that voice.

  The tension left her shoulders. Her eyes were unfocused for a second. Lisandro used that second to take the knife out of her hand. Meng Die re­acted to it, but too late.

  She started to turn as if she meant to go for her blade, but Claudia pressed the gun barrel hard into the side of her head. Meng Die, wisely, chose to stop moving.

  "Check her," Claudia said.

  Lisandro holstered his gun and frisked Meng Die. He did it quickly, effi-cently, and very, very thoroughly. "There are rivets and ridges throughout the leather. They could hide a few things. Do you want me to rip the leather open?" He asked it as if it were an everyday question.

  "Your word of honor that you are not carrying anything else?" Claudia said.

  Meng Die hesitated, then finally said, "There was just the one knife. This outfit doesn't leave much room for hiding weapons."

  Claudia's eyes flicked to Jean-Claude. "It's your call, Jean-Claude, do we back up, or do we finish it?"

  "Will you behave yourself, Meng Die?" he asked, and this time in as nor­mal a voice as he could manage.

  She gave him a look of such hatred that she didn't look quite sane. "I will not try to kill anyone tonight." Not exactly a rousing yes, but Jean-Claude nodded.

  Claudia hesitated, then stepped back and lowered her gun. She didn't hol­ster it, though. I couldn't say I blamed her.

  London went to one knee in front of me, head bowed. It was a gesture that should have had a cloak and a plumed hat with it, so old-fashioned. "I am able to serve my lady again, if she has need."

  It took me a second or two to work out what he meant. "You mean feed the ardeur again?"

  He looked up. "Yes."

  I looked down into that so-serious face. "You know if you act as food for the ardeur too often, it can be fatal?"

  "Yes, but I can feed the ardeur every two hours or so in a twenty-four-hour period without ill effect."

  I stared at him. "You're joking, right?"

  "Why would I joke about such a thing?"

  "I don't know, but... London, even the strongest, most powerful person I feed on can only feed twice in a row with a break of at least six hours be­tween."

  "It is my gift, Anita," he said.

  "London is the perfect food for the ardeur. He can truly feed every few hours day after day, to no ill effect. In fact, Belle Morte said he seemed to gain power from it," Jean-Claude said.

  "I'm scrambling to figure out how to feed and control this thing, and we have someone who is made to take care of it, and you didn't mention it to me sooner?"

  "And if I had?" he said, simply.

  I opened my mouth to protest, then closed it. If he had, what would I have done? "I'd have accused you of trying to set me up with London."

  "Since he did not wish to be captured by the ardeur again, I thought it wisest not to mention his talent. To raise the possibility of it would be, I felt, a betrayal of his trust. For it would raise the issue of his being food for the ardeur. He was most adamant against it, ma petite."

  "What's the downside to being able to feed the ardeur like this?" I asked, looking back at the vampire kneeling at my feet.

  "Everyone is eventually addicted to the ardeur, but for me, the addiction is immediate."

  "You're addicted again?" I said.

  "Yes." His eyes were so peaceful, more peaceful than I'd ever seen them. He looked happier and more at home in his own skin than ever before. I looked up, and it was Nathaniel's gaze that I caught. He looked solemn, eyes not peaceful at all.

  "You always look happy at the beginning of an addiction," Nathaniel said.

  "What happens later?" I asked.

  "You die."

  44

  I DID TRY sniffing Travis's neck, but he hit my radar as wounded ante­lope. Since I didn't want to rip his throat out, I had to back off. Touching Pierce's hand had been an electrifying experience. Shit. I made Noel take Travis to the hospital room in the back, so he could shift and heal the dam­age. I had to give my most solemn word that I would not bond with either Pierce or Haven, and bring disaster to their pride, while they were resting. I promised. I meant it. I wasn't sure how to keep the promise, but I did mean it.

  We all went to sit in the living room while we tried to get through our list of metaphysical emergencies before we had to get dressed for the ballet.

  "We are running out of time, Jean-Claude," Auggie said.

  "Ma petite was able to free Requiem of an ardeur-rehted compulsion ear­lier today. We had thought to use the same technique to free you, Augustine. Are you saying that your freedom from the slavery of the ardeur can wait?"

  "I need to send Octavius to fetch my clothes for this evening. He has expressed"—Auggie smiled—"reservations about my being here without him at my back. I came thinking I'd get my ashes hauled, and make a smash and grab on the local lions. Still might do the whole lion thing, but the rest didn't work out like I planned."

  "You are not going to do the whole lion thing," I said. I was on the love seat sitting between Micah and Jean-Claude. Nathaniel and Damian were on the floor at our feet. Damian was touching my leg, and that one touch helped me think. He'd promised not to do anything but help me stay calm. There would be a learning curve on Damian's new power level, too. The grade on all of it seemed pretty damn steep.

  Jean-Claude patted my knee, as if warning me to be calm. I was calm; Damian's touch almost guaranteed that. I was also determined that our invi­tation to the Master of Chicago was not going to rain bad stuff all over our local werelions.

  "Most of the werelions in the Midwest owe allegiance to my pride."

  its not your pnae, i said, even it your animal to can is tne Kex ot tnat pride. It's his pride, or hers."

  "His," Auggie said.

  "Fine, but that doesn't make it yours."

  Auggie glanced at Jean-Claude. "She believes that. Doesn't she know the law?"

  "Ma petite knows that in the vampire world all that my servants own is mine."

  I had known it, but I hadn't made the logic jump. "It can't be your pride, because if something happened to your lion to call, then you couldn't hold the pride. If you can't hold the group without the help of someone else, then it's not yours, Auggie. Your lion dies and your hold on his pride dies with him."

  "Is that a threat?" he said, softly.

  Damian squeezed my calf, and Jean-Claude squeezed my knee. Micah moved closer to me, sliding his arm across my shoulders, so that he was holding me and Jean-Claude, really. It didn't seem to bother anyone but me.

  "Not yet," I said.

  Damian laid his head in my lap. Jean-Claude stroked my leg, his way of saying, Be careful. Micah was as close as he could get to me. Nathaniel just cuddled more solidly between Jean-Claude and me, wrapping his arm around my leg, but laying his head on Jean-Claude's knee. I'd never seen him do that before to the vampire. Jean-Claude petted his hair, absently, like you'd stroke a dog, as if it were very everyday. It wasn't everyday, and I real­ized that Nathaniel was helping us negotiate. Auggie had proved that he liked men, maybe not as much as he liked women, but still... He'd re­marked on Nathaniel's hair, made a pass at Micah. Nathaniel wasn't flirting, he was lying with his body. Lying that he and Jean-Claude had a closer rela­tionship than they did. Would it bother Auggie? And if it did, which way would it bother him? Would it disturb him because it's guy-on-guy sex, or would he be jealous? Hell, it might bother him both ways. A lot of men seemed conflicted about that sort of thing.

  "Did you say that most of the prides in the Midwest owe you allegiance?" Micah said.

  "Yes."

  "Vampires aren't allowed to wage war on territories that don't touch their own," Micah said.

  "I haven't done anything to any other Masters of the City. Vampire law only covers how we treat each other's animals to call. My lions haven't tried to take over any land where the Master of the City had lions as his, or her,

  animal to call." He looked at me, as i
f I'd like the "her" comment. Frankly, I was liking less and less about Auggie.

  "So as long as you only take over prides that aren't owned by vamps, you're in the clear?" I said.

  He nodded.

  "If we hadn't invited you into our territory, how would you have taken over Joseph's pride?"

  "Sent Pierce and Haven down on their own."

  "Then what, kill Joseph, and take over?"

  "Joseph and his brother, yes."

  "But if lion is one of my animals to call, then since everything that I own belongs to Jean-Claude, you have to leave Joseph and his people alone, be­cause they'll belong to another master vampire."

  "I think you've already chosen a lion to call, Anita. Your reaction to Haven was pretty intense."

  "My reaction to Pierce is intense, too. I haven't chosen between the two of them. The fact that they belong to you may be why I'm reacting to them. Or, like you said, my lioness is looking for something a little more domi­nant."

  "Justin's coming to the ballet with us tonight," Jason said, from the chair near the love seat.

  Everyone looked at him. "Joseph's brother?" I made it a question.

  Jason nodded, then winced, pulling the collar of his leather jacket a little away from his neck. It wasn't that cold in here, but he was still wearing his leather jacket. Why? If Auggie and his people hadn't been there, I would have asked. Jason had said something about a report he had to make. What report?

  "Take off the jacket, wolf," Pierce said. "We can smell the wound."

  Jason looked at Jean-Claude. He nodded. Jason took the jacket off. He then turned so we could all see his neck. It was either the biggest hickey I'd ever seen, or something had tried to tear out half of his throat.

  I tried to rise, but all the men pressed down just enough to let me know, Don't. Jason came to us. Something had bitten him, but the teeth marks were like nothing I'd ever seen. "What the hell did that?"

  Jason looked at his master.

  "Not everyone who wishes to join us wishes to be your pontme de sang, ?na petite. Some of the masters have brought people that they simply wish to trade. Jason was investigating one of them." His voice held so little inflec­tion that I knew it was the truth, but not all the truth.