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23
CLAUDIA STOPPED HIM, standing in his way, towering over him. It was probably the first time he'd met a woman tall enough and muscular enough to do that. Just seeing his reaction to it would say a lot about him.
"Call your rat off, Blake," Cookie said.
"Give up the gun and I move," she said.
"I was more armed than this when she touched me earlier."
"Then you were bodyguarding your master, now you're about to get up close and personal with one of mine." Her voice was low and matter-of-fact. I thought it was interesting that she implied I was one of her masters. News to me.
I could see one shoulder enough to know he shrugged, then he must have handed the gun over, because Claudia moved aside.
He padded toward the bed on bare feet, the first button of his jeans already undone. Had it been before, or had he caught the gun on it as he pulled? The last would be careless. Was he careless?
I was way too calm. I watched him come toward the bed with a detachment that surprised me. It was like a type of shock, almost, or... the lion was utterly dispassionate about the man walking toward us. In some ways animals are more reactive than we are; people mistake that for emotion, but it's not. There was no emotion from the cat in my head. She waited. Waited with a sort of cold, wary patience, as if she could have watched him forever, and felt nothing. It was his choice whether we got along, or chased him away. If he did something stupid, or weak, she wouldn't accept him. She'd kill him before she'd accept him, but there was no passion to the decision. It was colder than any thought I'd ever had, except when I'd decided to kill. Then there is a moment of cold clarity, a moment of something that is almost peaceful. My moment of peaceful sociopathy was stretched to an eternity in the head of that big cat.
Nathaniel moved, and that made me turn to him, but the lion in my head roared at me, swiped a claw across the inside of my body. She let me know that she needed my eyes and had no interest in leopard. The pain of her claws spasmed through me. I was partially healed from what I'd done with Nathaniel, but that one swipe showed me that I was still hurt. Hurt in places that there'd be no way to bandage. Part of me wanted to fight her, and turn to Nathaniel, but I knew if I did, she'd do worse. I fought my own stubbornness for a moment, eyes closed, concentrating. Trying to decide if I'd grown up enough to let this small loss go, or if I had to win at every damn thing. If I let the lion think it could boss me around, would that set a bad precedent for later? Then a thought came to me; the lion was me. I was fighting with myself. How terribly Freudian, or would it be Jungian? Either way, how strangely me.
The thought was so me, that it opened my eyes. Cookie was standing beside the bed. His hands were at his sides. The look on his face was eager, but wary, as if he'd finally figured out that something might be wrong. His blue hair was flattened on top as if he'd been asleep when I'd called him. His eyes were very blue as he stared down at me. I could see the tattoo on his left shoulder now: the faces of Bert and Ernie. I sensed a theme.
"Any more tattoos?"
He grinned. "Yeah, want to see?"
"I don't know," I said.
"You called me," he said, and his voice was softer, as if he wasn't sure what was happening, and was finally not sure he was happy to be here. Cautious, at last. It pleased the cat in my head. Pleased me, too, I guess.
Micah said, "She needs to give you her beast."
Cookie turned to him, frowning. "I don't understand." His nostrils flared, as he scented the air. "She smells like lion, but she smelled like leopard earlier. She smelled like wolf, too." He shook his head, as if clearing his mind from the scent. He looked down at me, frowning, speaking softly. "What are you?"
The truth would have been, I wasn't sure, but some of the people in this room weren't our friends. Octavius would be our enemy if he could. I was about to try for half-truth, when Jean-Claude stepped up beside the bed and spoke. "Ma petite seems to have the ability to acquire the animals of the vampires she comes in close contact with. I knew she gained wolf through me, as some servants do. She gained leopard through contact with another. It may be her closeness with your own master that has brought lion to her." Not a lie, but it certainly wasn't the whole truth. But hey, I had no better suggestions.
"That would make her very dangerous," Octavius said from near the door. He and Pierce were still close to the door as if for a quick getaway.
"It would make her powerful, yes," Jean-Claude said.
"Dangerous," Octavius said. "Do the other masters know that they risk seduction and the loss of their animals to you, Jean-Claude, or are we your first victims?"
Jean-Claude sighed, and the sound echoed through the room, and slid over my skin. The lioness paced, growled low and deep, and the sound slid from my lips. "Don't," I said.
"My apologies, ma petite," he said. He turned to Octavius. "Truth then between us, Octavius, before you think even worse of us. I know you of old; you will spread these rumors. So I give you truth, and I will know if you tell, because no one in this room will tell but you."
"I do not gossip."
"You have always gossiped." He motioned to me. "Anita holds different types of lycanthropy inside her."
"That is not possible."
"Nor is it possible for her to have a vampire servant, or an animal to call that is not mine, but those are true things."
"We had heard, but we thought the servant was rumor."
Jean-Claude shook his head. "Augustine is powerful enough to see truth. When he sees her with Damian, he would know the truth anyway. I tell you only a night early, oh, a day early." He said it as if he had just remembered that he was up at dawn. He had so not forgotten. "I swear to you that human doctors have drawn her blood and tested it. She carries more than one strain of lycanthropy, and yet has not shifted to any. She holds the animal but seems unable to turn. They have tried to tear their way out tonight, and still she cannot shift."
Micah added, "She's stuck at that point where the beast is trying to get out, and you don't know how to let it out."
"Ouch," Cookie said. He looked down at me, smiling. "You've had a hard morning."
"You have no idea," I said.
"Yes he does," Nathaniel growled from beside me.
The two shapeshifters looked at each other. It was a long look. "Yeah, I remember the first time, we all do."
"She fought, fought it to a standstill."
He looked at me, eyes narrowing. "You can't do that, no one can."
"Never underestimate how stubborn Anita can be," Richard said from across the room. "You'll regret it, if you do."
I looked at him. He'd taken one of the chairs near the fireplace, as far from the bed as he could get without leaving the room. He was mostly in shadow, so that I couldn't see his face well. But then again, maybe I didn't want to see his face right then.
"Don't mistake force of will for stubbornness," Micah said. "There is a difference."
"It looks the same to me," Richard said.
"It would," Micah said.
A low growl trickled from Richard, and it echoed through the room, much the way Jean-Claude's sigh had. The sound made me shiver but not with the promise of sex; it flared across my skin like heat, and the lion reacted to it. She spilled into my skin like the leopard had done, like the wolf had done. I was suddenly writhing on the bed, screaming again. I did not want to hurt again. But if I didn't want to be wolf, I sure as hell didn't want to be lion. I didn't even know the lion pride here well. Shit. If sheer force of will was keeping me in human skin, my will was getting worn down. Eventually, I'd lose this fight. I didn't want it to be now.
I reached out for Cookie. He grabbed my hand, almost by reflex. I dragged him down to me, and he didn't fight me. He could have, but he came to me. He laid his body on top of mine while the lion tried to come out. She stretched, stretched, impossibly huge, trying to thrust claws out through my fingers and toes. She couldn't come out, but those metaphysical claws cut through my skin. I screamed. I raised my hands up to hold him to me, and there was blood flowing down my fingers. Sweet Jesus, help me.
From far away I heard Cookie say, "What do I do?"
"Kiss her," someone said.
He kissed me. The moment his mouth touched mine, I let the lion go. I let it plow into him. With Nathaniel I'd tried to be a little controlled, but I was all out of control today.
It hurt for it to leave me, like someone had thrust a shovel down my throat and was digging out my internal organs in one ripping, burning line. I screamed into his mouth, and he screamed back. He kept his mouth on mine, even while his body began to writhe in pain. His hands dug into the bed on either side of me, holding on, holding on, while that line of tearing, ripping, burning power ripped him open. There was no moment of bones sliding, or reshaping. One minute he was human, the next his skin had exploded outward, raining on the room in thick wet globs. The body under my hands was dry and furred, and the cheek I touched had a fringe of thick, golden mane. I had to wipe thick goo out of my eyes to be able to see. I wiped off bits of him that were thicker than clear liquid. The power had literally blown him apart. I had a moment to wonder if his tattoos would survive; then I could see his face.
His eyes were golden, in a face that was a pale gold, with a mane around his head like a furry halo. The face was that strangely graceful mix of human and cat. His shoulders were broader than the leopards', everything more muscular. His suddenly nude body was pressed between my legs, but not happy to be there. I had a glimpse of his tail flicking behind him, then he collapsed, partially on me and partially beside me.
Where his weight hit, my body hurt. I made a small sound, and he rolled off me and lay there on the liquid-soaked sheets. He looked like some primitive golden god hunted to death. I lay where I was, covered in something I didn't even want to see. It felt too thick, too... just too. I tried not to look at it, or think about it. I lay there covered in bits of his body, and knew I'd hurt him, badly.
"I'm sorry," I said, and my voice was an abused whisper.
He rolled golden eyes up to look at me. "That fucking hurt."
Micah came to the edge of the bed. He took one of my hands in his, and looked at my fingers. "You were bleeding from under your nails. If he hadn't taken your beast when he did," he shrugged, "it might have been too late."
That scared me. It tightened my stomach, and even that hurt, as if I'd abused muscles that I didn't know I had.
"Thank you, Cookie, more than you'll know."
The lionman said, "Did you just call me Cookie?"
"Sorry, it's the hair, Cookie Monster blue, and the tat."
"Haven. My name's Haven." I think he smiled, but it was hard to tell on the lionish face, from the angle I had. "Though Cookie Monster works just fine."
"I said Cookie, not Monster."
"You haven't seen me at my best, yet" he said, and smiled for sure.
I did not understand the comment. Micah did. "He's implying he's big."
"Oh," I said, then had to smile up at Micah. "He shouldn't brag until he's seen the competition."
The lionman rolled his face to look at Micah. He wasn't looking at his face. Micah said, "You aren't seeing me at my best either."
Even through the lion's face I could see the arrogance as he looked up at me, not at Micah. "Trust me, I'll measure up. Auggie was shopping for size, not just talent."
I wasn't sure if I was supposed to say Oh, really, Oh, goody, or Oh, boy. Under normal circumstances his assumption that he was going to get to fuck me would have pissed me off. But one, I didn't have energy left to get pissy; two, he'd saved me. Saved us. Micah, Nathaniel, and me. I could ask for our local pride to give me some lions to follow me around, but this morning, right this moment, Haven had been the only rescue I had. I owed him. Also I'd ripped his body apart, and caused him massive amounts of pain. Oops didn't really cover that one.
"When you can walk," Nathaniel said, "I'll take you to the feeding area." Nathaniel's fur glistened under the lights, wetter from being so close to Haven's violent shift than from his own. He slipped off the end of the bed and padded around to join Micah, who was still holding my hand.
Micah pressed my hand to his face, and it left a wet glistening stain on his cheek. I was so going to need another bath.
"I can walk." Haven slipped off the side of the bed, and went straight to his knees. "Shit."
Nathaniel reached down to help him stand.
Haven asked, "Did you take her beast, too?"
"Yes."
"It didn't hit you this hard, did it?"
"No." Nathaniel didn't bother to explain that it hadn't been as violent, and no one else did either. I wasn't sure we were keeping Haven, but if we were then Nathaniel would need to establish some sort of dominance with the other man. That Nathaniel could take that much pain and keep on ticking would help.
Haven leaned against the bed, Nathaniel still holding his arm. Those golden lion eyes looked at me. "Don't take this personally or anything, but the fringe benefits better be fucking amazing."
"They are," Nathaniel said.
"Depends on what fringe benefits you're talking about," I said.
"Sex," he said, straightening up slowly, obviously still in pain. "You're Belle Morte's line, there is no other fringe benefit for you guys."
I couldn't argue with the last part, but I could with the first. "Don't assume you're getting sex, Haven."
He gave me a look. "All this and you don't think I've proved myself enough for sex? Damn, girl, what does a man have to do to meet your standards?"
"When you figure it out, let me know." This from Richard. He stopped near the bed, and looked at me. "You could have been my lupa for real, but you didn't want to be. You chose him, them, over me."
"If I'd been lupa for real, you wouldn't have wanted me. I saw it in your head."
He shook his head. "You could have been my lupa at the lupanar, with the pack."
"But I would have lost the baby."
He wouldn't meet my gaze.
"You can't stand the thought that this isn't your baby."
"No, I can't."
"I'm already your lupa," I said, "I'm already Bolverk. Nothing would have changed for you and me if I'd become wolf for real. My being wolf would have meant you looked harder for that human Ms. Right."
He stared down at me. "You won't even let me have the illusion of it, will you?"
I tried to sit up, and Micah had to help me. So stiff, so sore. "What illusion, Richard?"
"That we could be together as a couple, at least with the wolves."
"And what happens to my life when the moon isn't full?"
"Would it be so bad to be with me for real, without the others?"
I looked up into his face, and maybe I was tired, physically, mentally, emotionally. After everything I'd been through tonight, and this morning, all he could think of was himself, his problems, his pain. "Is everything about your pain, Richard, is that all you think about?"
"Answer me, Anita, answer me. Would it be so bad to have been with me for real? Just the two of us, would that be so bad?"
I tried one more time not to answer. "You don't want me to answer that question, Richard." I leaned in against Micah, let him hold me.
"Mon ami," Jean-Claude said, "let it go."
He shook his head again. "No, not this time. I had this idea that if he"?and he pointed at Jean-Claude--"hadn't interfered we'd be a couple, we'd have been happy. But I see you with him"--he pointed at Micah--"and him"--he pointed at Nathaniel--"and I have to know. Tell me the truth, Anita. Tell me the truth. I won't break the triumvirate. I won't run away. But tell me the truth, so I know where I stand. I need to know how hard I need to look for Ms. Right. Tell me the truth, and maybe I can move on. I know I can't stand watching you take another lover. That, I know I can't stand." He sat down on the messy edge of the bed. He gave me a solemn face. "If you'd become wolf for real, and had to live with me, give up Micah and Nathaniel, would that have been so bad?"
My throat hurt, but it wasn't from what the beasts had done. My throat was thick and tight; my eyes burned. Why did Richard always make me want to cry? "Don't make me do this," I whispered.
"Just say it, Anita, just say it."
I had to swallow twice, and the tears spilled over as I said, "Yes, it would have been bad."
"Why? Why would the two of us living together, raising our child be so bad? If it is mine I want a place in his life."
That was it, he'd brought the baby up, and suddenly in all the tears was the anger, never far behind for me. "You don't see me, Richard. You see this ideal of me, but it's not me. I don't think it was ever me."
"What does that mean, I don't see you? I see you, you're right there."
"What do you see, Richard, tell me?"
"I see you."
"I'm naked on a bed being held by a naked man, with two other naked men in the room who are also my lovers. You've just said you can't stand to watch me take another lover, when you know I'm supposed to be looking for a new pomme de sang to feed the ardeur."
"I thought you weren't really going to look, just pretend."
That should not have been said in front of our company. "I'm not sure I have a choice right now, Richard."
"The next time the wolf comes, just don't fight it, and you can be my lupa. We can be together, because you won't be able to be with anyone else."
That was it; I told him the truth. "I don't want to be just with you, Richard. I don't want to lose Micah and Nathaniel, or Jean-Claude."
"So, if I said, choose, I'd lose."
I thought, you've already lost me. Out loud, I said, "I can't be with just one person, Richard, you know that."
"Even if the ardeur cools, you're never going to choose just one of us, are you?"
We stared at each other, and the weight of his gaze was so heavy, so heavy. In his own way, he was just as stubborn as I was, and this was one of those moments when it was about to destroy us. "No, Richard, I don't think I am."
He took in a lot of air, and let it out slow. He nodded, as if to himself, stood, and said, without looking at me, "That's what I needed to hear. Not this weekend, we'll be busy, but next weekend I'll still want you to go to church with me, if you want to."
I wasn't sure what to say, so I said, "Okay."
"Family dinner afterward, like always," he said as he headed for the door. He hesitated at the door, turned with his hand touching it. "I will find someone who wants the life I want."
"I hope you do," I whispered.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you, too," I said, and meant it.
"I hate you, Anita," he said, with almost no change in his voice.
"I hate you, too, Richard," I said, and I meant it.
