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He stood in one graceful movement, leaving Marguerite kneeling beside the empty chair. She looked displeased. I smiled at her, and she glared at me. Baiting Marguerite was childish, but it made me feel better. Everyone needs a hobby.
Jean-Claude swept the curtains aside to show darkness. I realized then that there was discreet electric light in the room, indirect lighting set in the walls themselves. There was nothing but the flicker of torches beyond the curtains. It was like that one piece of cloth held back the modern world with all its comforts. Beyond lay stone and fire and secrets best whispered in the dark.
"Anita?" Larry called after me. He looked uncertain, maybe even scared. But I was taking the most dangerous thing in the room with me. He'd be safe with Irving and Richard. I didn't think Marguerite was a danger without Yasmeen to hold her leash.
"Stay here, Larry, please. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Be careful," he said.
I smiled. "Always."
He grinned. "Yeah, sure."
Jean-Claude motioned me through and I went, following the sweep of his pale hand. The curtain fell behind us, cutting off the light. Darkness closed around us like a fist. Torches sparked against the far wall but couldn't touch the swelling dark.
Jean-Claude led the way into the dark. "We wouldn't want your coworker to overhear us." His voice whispered in the dark, growing like a wind to beat against the curtains.
My heart hammered against my rib cage. How the hell did he do that? "Save the dramatics for someone you can impress."
"Brave words, ma petite, but I taste your heartbeat in my mouth." The last word breathed over my skin as if his lips had passed just over the nape of my neck. Goosebumps marched down my arms.
"If you want to play games until after dawn, that's fine with me, but Irving told me that you had information on the master vampire that attacked me. Do you, or was it a lie?"
"I have never lied to you, ma petite."
"Oh, come on."
"Partial truths are not the same thing as lies."
"I guess that depends on where you're sitting," I said.
He acknowledged that with a nod. "Shall we sit against the far wall, out of hearing range?"
"Sure."
He knelt in the thin circle of a torch's light. The light was for my benefit and I appreciated it. But no sense telling him that.
I sat across from him, back to the wall. "So, what do you know about Alejandro?"
He was staring at me, a peculiar look on his face.
"What?" I asked.
"Tell me everything that happened last night, ma petite, everything about Alejandro."
It was too much like an order for my tastes, but there was something in his eyes, his face; uneasiness, almost fear. Which was silly. What did Jean-Claude have to fear from Alejandro? What indeed? I told him everything I remembered.
His face went carefully blank, beautiful and unreal like a painting. The colors were still there, but the life, the movement, had fled. He put one finger between his lips and slowly slid it out of sight. The finger came glistening back to the light. He extended that wet finger towards me. I scooted away from him.
"What are you trying to do?"
"Wash the blood off of your cheek. Nothing more."
"I don't think so."
He sighed, the barest of sounds, but it slithered over my skin like air. "You make everything so difficult."
"Glad you noticed."
"I need to touch you, ma petite. I believe Alejandro has done something to you."
"What?"
He shook his head. "Something impossible."
"No riddles, Jean-Claude."
"I believe he has marked you."
I stared at him. "What do you mean?"
"Marked you, Anita Blake, marked you with the first mark, just as I have."
I shook my head. "That's not possible. Two vampires can't have the same human servant."
"Exactly," he said. He moved towards me. "Let me test the theory, ma petite, please."
"What does testing the theory mean?"
He said something soft and harsh in French. I'd never heard him curse before. "It is after dawn and I am tired. Your questions will make something simple last all bloody day." There was real anger in his voice, but under that was tiredness and that thread of fear. The fear scared me. He was supposed to be some untouchable monster. Monsters weren't afraid of other monsters.
I sighed. Was it better to just get it over with, like a shot? Maybe. "All right, in the interest of time. But give me some idea of what to expect. You know I don't like surprises."
"I must touch you to search first for my marks, then for his. You should not have fallen so easily into his eyes. That should not have happened."
"Get it over with," I said.
"Is my touch so repulsive that you must prepare yourself as for pain?"
Since that was almost exactly what I was doing, I wasn't sure what to say. "Just do it, Jean-Claude, before I change my mind."
He slid his finger between his lips again.
"Do you have to do it that way?"
"Ma petite, please."
I squirmed against the cool stone wall. "All right, no more interruptions."
"Good." He knelt in front of me. His fingertip traced my right cheek, leaving a line of wetness down my skin. The dried blood was gritty under his touch. He leaned into me, as if he was going to kiss me. I put my hands on his chest to keep him from touching me. His skin was hard and smooth under the gauze of his shirt.
I jerked away and hit my head against the wall. "Dammit."
He smiled. His eyes glinted blue in the torchlight. "Trust me." He moved in, lips hovering over my mouth. "I won't hurt you." The words whispered into my mouth, a soft push of air.
"Yeah, right," I said, but the words came out soft and uncertain.
His lips brushed mine, then pressed gently against my mouth. The kiss moved from my lips to my cheek. His lips were soft as silk, gentle as marigold petals, hot as the noonday sun. They worked down my skin until his mouth hovered over the pulse in my neck.
"Jean-Claude?"
"Alejandro was alive when the Aztec empire was just a dream." He whispered it against my skin. "He was there to greet the Spaniards and watch the Aztecs fall. He has survived when others have died or gone mad." His tongue flicked out, hot and wet.
"Stop it." I pushed against him. His heart beat against my hands. I pushed my hands upward to his throat. The big pulse in his throat fluttered against my skin. I placed a thumb over the smoothness of one of his eyelids. "Move it or lose it," I said. My voice was breathy with panic, and something worse... desire.
The feel of his body against me, under my hands, his lips touching me--some hidden part of me wanted it. Wanted him. So I lusted after the Master; so what? Nothing new. His eyeball trembled under my thumb, and I wondered if I could do it. Could I blank out one of those midnight-blue orbs? Could I blind him?
His lips moved against my skin. Teeth brushed my skin, the hard brush of fangs rubbed against my throat. And the answer was, suddenly, yes. I tensed to press inward, and he was gone like a dream, or a nightmare.
He stood in front of me, looking down, his eyes all dark, no white showing. His lips had drawn back from his teeth to expose glistening fangs. His skin was marble-white and seemed to glow from inside, and still he was beautiful.
"Alejandro has given you the first mark, ma petite. We share you. I do not know how, but we do. Two more marks and you are mine. Three more and you are his. Would it not be better to be mine?"
He knelt in front of me again, but was careful not to touch me. "You desire me as a woman desires a man. Is that not better than some stranger taking you by force?"
"You didn't ask my permission for the first two marks. They weren't by choice."
"I am asking permission now. Let me share with you the third mark."
"No."
"You would rather serve Alejandro?"
"I'm not going to serve anyone," I said.
"This is a war, Anita. You cannot be neutral."
"Why not?"
He stood up and paced a tight circle. "Don't you understand? The killings are a challenge to my authority, and his marking you is another challenge. He will take you from me if he can."
"I don't belong to you, or to him."
