He was dressed in jeans, white T-shirt, jeans jacket, and white tennis shoes. His hair foamed around his face in a mass of golden brown waves. A claw had caught him across the face, leaving angry red welts that chased across the entire left side of his face. The injury looked days old. It had to have happened after I left last night.
He had my leather coat in one hand and the Browning in the other. He just stood there in the doorway.
I sat on the bed. Neither of us said anything. I wasn’t slick and sophisticated enough for this. What do you say to boyfriend A when he finds you naked in the bed of boyfriend B? Especially if boyfriend A turned into a monster the night before and ate someone. I bet Miss Manners didn’t cover this at all.
“You slept with him, didn’t you?” His voice was low, almost soft, as if he was trying very hard not to yell.
My gut tightened. I was not ready for this fight. I was armed, but I was naked. I would have traded the gun for clothes in a hot second.
“I would say it’s not what it looks like, but it is.” My attempt at humor did not work.
He strode into the room like an approaching storm, his anger riding before him in a crackling wave. The power poured over me and I wanted to scream.
“Stop leaking all over me.”
It stopped him, almost literally in midmotion. “What are you talking about?”
“Your power, aura, it’s raining all over me. Stop it.”
“Why? Does it feel good? Until you panicked last night, it felt good, didn’t it?”
I shoved the Firestar under the pillow and stood, clutching the sheet to me. “Yeah, it felt good until you shapeshifted on top of me. I was covered in that clear gunk, thick with it.” The memory was new enough that I shuddered and looked away from him.
“So you fucked Jean-Claude. Oh, that makes perfect sense.”
I looked at him and felt an answering anger. If he wanted to fight, he’d come to the right place. I held up my right hand. It was covered in a wonderful multicolored bruise. “You did this when you knocked my gun away.”
“There’d been enough killing, Anita. No one else had to die.”
“Do you really think that Raina is just going to let you take over? No way. She’ll see you dead first.”
He shook his head, his face set in stubborn lines. “I am Ulfric now. I’m in control. She’ll do what I say.”
“Nobody bosses Raina; not for long. Has she offered to fuck you yet?”
“Yes,” he said.
The way he said it stopped me, brought my breath up short. “Did you, after I left?”
“It would serve you right if I had.”
I couldn’t meet his eyes on that one. “If you make her lupa, she’ll let it go. She just doesn’t want to lose her power base.” I forced myself to look up, to meet his eyes.
“I don’t want Raina.” Something passed over his face so raw, that it brought tears to my eyes. “I want you.”
“You can’t want me now, not after last night.”
“Is that why you slept with Jean-Claude? Did you think it would keep you safe from me?”
“I wasn’t thinking that clearly,” I said.
He laid the coat and the gun on the bed. He gripped the end of the bed. The wood groaned under the strength of his hands. He jerked back from it as if he hadn’t meant to do it. “You slept with him in this bed. Right here.” He put his hand over his eyes as if he was trying to erase an image inside his head.
He screamed wordlessly.
I took a step towards him, hand out, and stopped. How could I comfort him? What could I say to make this better? Not a damn thing.
He jerked at the bottom sheet, tugging it until it came loose. He grabbed the top mattress and pulled it off the bed. He grabbed the bottom of the bed and lifted.
I screamed, “Richard!”
The bed was antique solid oak, and he tossed it on its side like it was a toy. He pulled the bottom sheet off. The silk tore with a sound like skin peeling back. He was on his knees with the butchered silk in his hands. He held his hands out to me and the sheets fell away like blood.
Richard got to his feet, a little unsteady. He caught himself against the bed and took a step towards me. The Firestar and the Browning were somewhere on the floor in the welter of red silk and tossed mattress.
I backed away until I hit the corner, and I had nowhere else to go. I was still clutching the sheet around me like it was some kind of protection.
I held out a hand towards Richard, as if that would help. “What do you want from me, Richard? What do you want me to say? I’m sorry. I am sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry that I can’t handle what I saw last night. I’m sorry.”
He stalked towards me, not saying anything, hands balled into fists. I realized that I was afraid of Richard. That I wasn’t sure what he’d do when he reached me, and I wasn’t armed. Part of me felt like I deserved to be hit at least once, that I owed that to him. But after seeing what he’d done to the bed, I wasn’t sure I’d survive it.
Richard grabbed the front of the sheet, balling it in his fist, jerking me against him. He used the sheet to raise me to tiptoe. He kissed me. For a second I froze. Hitting, yelling, that I’d expected, but not this.
His mouth bruised against my lips, forcing my mouth open. The moment I felt his tongue, I jerked my head back.
Richard put a hand on the back of my head like he’d force me to kiss him. The rage in his face was frightening.
“Not good enough to kiss now?”
“I saw you eat Marcus last night.”
He let me go so suddenly I fell to the floor, stumbling over the sheet. I tried to get to my knees, but my legs had tangled. The sheet slipped over one breast. I struggled to cover myself. Embarrassed at last.
“Two nights ago, you let me touch them, suck them. Now I can’t even see them.”
“Don’t do this, Richard.”
He went to all fours in front of me, so we’d be on eye level. “Don’t do what? Don’t be mad that you let the vampire fuck you?” He crawled forward until our faces were almost touching. “You fucked a corpse last night, Anita. Did it feel good?”
I stared at him from inches away, not embarrassed anymore. Instead, I was getting pissed. “Yeah, it did.”
He jerked back from me like I’d hit him. His face crumpled, and his eyes searched the room frantically. “I love you.” He looked up suddenly, eyes wide and pain-filled. “I love you.”
I kept my eyes very wide so the tears in them wouldn’t fall out and run down my cheeks. “I know, and I’m sorry.”
He turned away from me, still kneeling. He slapped his hands against the floor. He pounded his hands into the floor over and over until blood smeared on the white carpet.
I got to my feet. I hovered over him, afraid to touch him. “Richard, Richard, don’t, please don’t.” The tears fell and I couldn’t stop them.
I knelt beside him. “You’re hurting yourself. Stop it!” I grabbed his wrists, held his bleeding hands in mine. He stared at me, and the look on his face was raw, human.
I touched his face, gently tracing the claw marks. He leaned into me, tears spilling down his cheeks. The look in his eyes held me immobile. His lips brushed mine, soft. I didn’t flinch, but I didn’t kiss him back, either.
He moved back from me, just enough to see my face clearly. “Good-bye, Anita.” He got to his feet.
I wanted to say so much, but none of it would help. Nothing would make it better. Nothing would erase what I’d seen last night or how it had made me feel. “Richard . . . I . . . I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” He walked to the door. He hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. “I’ll always love you.”
I opened my mouth, but no sound came. There was nothing left to say but, “I love you, Richard, and I am sorrier than I know how to say.”
He opened the door and stepped through it without looking back. When the door closed behind him, I sat on the floor, huddled in the silk sheet. I could smell Jean-C
laude’s cologne on the silk, but I could smell Richard now, too. His aftershave clung to the sheets, to my mouth.
How could I let him go like this? How could I call him back? I sat on the floor and did nothing, because I didn’t know what to do.
41
* * *
I CALLED Edward’s answering service and left a message. I couldn’t stay where I was. I couldn’t stay here staring at the wrecked bedroom and remembering Richard’s wounded eyes. I had to get out. I had to call Dominic and tell him I wasn’t coming. The triad of power didn’t work without at least two of us on the spot. Jean-Claude was in his coffin and Richard was out of the picture. I wasn’t sure what would happen with our little triumvirate now. I didn’t see Richard standing around watching me grope Jean-Claude, if I wasn’t groping him, too. I couldn’t blame him on that.
Strangely, the thought of him sleeping with Raina still made me see green. I had no right to be jealous of him now, but I was. Go figure.
I dressed in black jeans, a black, short-sleeved blouse, and a black blazer. I had to work tonight, and Bert would kick a fit about me wearing black. He thought it gave the wrong image. Screw him. Tonight, black fit my mood.
The Browning in its shoulder holster, Firestar in the Uncle Mike’s sidekick holster, a knife on each arm, and a knife down my spine. I was ready for work.
I was going to give Edward ten more minutes, and then I was out of there. If there was still an assassin lurking around, I’d almost have welcomed him or her.
There was a knock on the door. I sighed. “Who is it?”
“Cassandra.”
“Come in.”
She opened the door, caught one sight of the wrecked bed, and grinned. “I’ve heard of rough sex, but this is ridiculous.” She was wearing a long, white dress that fell nearly to her ankles. White hose and white canvas flats completed the outfit. She looked light and summery with her long hair trailing down her back.
I shook my head. “Richard did it.”
The smile left her face. “He found out you slept with Jean-Claude?”
“Does everyone know?” I asked.
“Not everyone.” She walked into the room, shutting the door behind her. She shook her head. “Did he hurt you?”
“He didn’t hit me, if that’s what you mean, but I feel pretty shitty.”
Cassandra walked to the bed, staring up at it. She grabbed the edge of the frame. She pulled with one hand and steadied with the other. She pulled several hundred pounds of wood and metal around like it was nothing. She settled the bed gently to the carpet.
I raised an eyebrow. “That was impressive.”
She smiled, almost shyly. “One of the fringe benefits of being a lycanthrope is that you can pretty much lift anything you want.”
“I see the appeal of that.”
“I knew you would,” she said. She started picking up the pillows and ripped sheets. I joined her. “We should probably put the mattress back first,” she said.
“Okay. You need help?”
She laughed. “I can lift it, but it’s awkward.”
“Sure.” I grabbed the other side of the mattress.
Cassandra came up beside me, lifting the mattress with her left hand. A look passed over her face. “I am sorry.”
“I meant what I said about you and Richard earlier. I want him to be happy,” I said.
“That’s very flattering. I like you, Anita. I like you a lot. I wish I didn’t.”
I had time to frown at her, then her delicate fist came out of nowhere, a blur of speed that smashed into my face. I felt myself fall backwards. I smashed into the floor and couldn’t save my head from that extra smack against the carpet. It didn’t hurt. I didn’t feel a damn thing when blackness closed over me.
42
* * *
I ROSE out of the darkness slowly, dragging upwards like being awakened from deep sleep. I wasn’t sure what woke me. I couldn’t remember going to sleep. I tried to roll over and couldn’t. I was suddenly very awake, eyes wide, body straining. I’d been tied up before; it was one of my least favorite things. I had a few moments of pure panic. I bucked against the ropes that tied me at the wrists and ankles. I fought, pulling until I realized that the knots were getting tighter as I struggled.
I forced myself to lie very still. My heart pounded in my ears so loudly that I couldn’t hear anything else. My wrists were tied over my head at an angle sharp enough to squeeze my shoulder blades and put strain all the way down to my wrists. Even raising my head the little bit I needed to see my ankles was painful. My ankles were tied together to the foot of an unfamiliar bed. I rolled my head back and saw the rope that tied my wrists to the head of the bed. The rope was black and soft, and if I had to guess, I’d say it was woven silk. It looked like something Jean-Claude might have lying around in a closet somewhere. I considered it for only a split second, then reality stepped into the room, and my heart stopped for just a second.
Gabriel came to the foot of the bed. He was wearing black leather pants so tight they looked poured on, and high black boots that rode his thighs all the way up, with straps at the top to hold the soft leather in place. He was naked from the waist up, a silver ring through his left nipple and another through the edge of his belly button. More silver marched up his ears to the curve, glittering as he walked around the bed. His long, thick black hair fell across his face, framing his pale, storm grey eyes. He walked around behind the headboard, out of sight, then slowly back into frame.
My heart had started beating again. It was beating so hard I was going to choke on it. They’d taken the Browning and Firestar, holsters and all. The wrist sheaths were gone. I tensed my back and could still feel the back sheath. When I put my head back, I didn’t feel the knife’s handle. I guess I was grateful they hadn’t stripped me to get the sheath. The way Gabriel was circling the bed, I was betting we’d get to that.
I tried to talk, couldn’t, swallowed, and tried again. “What’s going on?” My voice sounded amazingly calm. Even to me.
A woman’s laugh, high and rich, filled the room. But of course, it wasn’t a room. We were at the farm where they made dirty movies. The room I was tied in had only three walls. The lights hung above me were dead, not on yet.
Raina stalked into sight on high, spiked heels the color of blood. She was wearing what looked like a red leather teddy that left most of her long legs and hips bare. “Hello, Anita, you’re looking well.”
I took a deep breath in through my nose and let it out slowly. My heart slowed a bit. Good. “You should talk to Richard before you do anything drastic. The position of lupa just opened up today.”
She cocked her head to one side, puzzled. “What are you talking about?”
“She slept with Jean-Claude.” Cassandra came to stand on the edge of the fake room, back to the wall. She looked like she’d always looked. If she felt uncomfortable having betrayed me to Raina, it didn’t show. I hated her a lot for that.
“Aren’t you going to sleep with both of them?” Raina asked.
“Hadn’t planned on it,” I said. Every time I opened my mouth and nobody touched me, I got a little calmer. If Raina had done this to get me out of the way, then she didn’t need to go any further. If it was revenge for Marcus, I was in deep shit.
Raina sat down on the end of the bed near my feet. I tensed when she did it; I couldn’t help myself. She noticed and laughed. “Oh, you are going to be a lot of fun.”
“You can be alpha female. I don’t want the job,” I said.
Raina sighed, running her hand along my leg, massaging the muscle in my upper thigh, almost absently like you’d pet a dog. “Richard doesn’t want me, Anita. He thinks I’m corrupt. He wants you.” She squeezed my thigh until I thought she was going to grow claws and tear out the muscle. She forced a small sound out of my throat before she stopped.
“What do you want?”
“Your pain.” She smiled when she said it.
I turned my head to Cassandra. Ther
e had to be someone sane in this room. “Why are you helping them?”
“I am Sabin’s wolf.”
My eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
Raina crawled up on the bed, lying beside me, insinuating her body against mine, one finger tracing over my stomach. It was an idle gesture, as if she wasn’t really concentrating. I didn’t want to be here when she started concentrating.
“Cassandra was a plant from the very beginning, weren’t you dear?”
Cassandra nodded, coming to stand beside the bed. Her hazel eyes were calm, too calm. Whatever she was feeling was there behind that pretty face, carefully controlled. The trick was, was there anything behind that face that could help me?
“Dominic, Sabin, and I are a triumvirate. We are what you and Richard and Jean-Claude could have been.”
I didn’t like her using the past tense. “You’re the woman he gave up fresh blood for?”
“I believe in the sanctity of life. I thought I valued that above all. Watching Sabin’s golden beauty rot away has convinced me otherwise. I will do anything, anything to help him recover.” Something like pain crossed her eyes and she looked away. When she looked back, her face was forcibly blank, the effort trembling down her hands. She noticed and hugged her hands to her arms. She smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. “I have to make it up to him, Anita. I am sorry that you and yours have become entangled in our problems.”
“How am I caught up in it?”
Raina slid her arm over my stomach, putting her face very near mine. “Dominic has a spell to cure Sabin of the rotting disease. A transfer of magical essence, you might say. All he needed was exactly the right donor.” She leaned in so close that only my turning my head kept our lips from touching. She whispered against my skin, breath warm, “A perfect donor. A vampire who shares Sabin’s powers exactly, a perfect match, and a servant, either alpha werewolf, or necromancer, bound to that same vampire.”
Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Collection 6-10 Page 38
