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17
I walked through a world of silvered moon shadows and the black outlines of trees. The boots were low-heeled enough and they fit well enough that they actually weren't bad for walking through the woods. It wasn't the fit of anything that made it uncomfortable to be out in the woods; it was the heat and the noise. There was sweat at the bend of my knees underneath the nylons and the leather. I'd added a leather jacket, borrowed from Jason. The jacket hid the mini-Uzi and the big leather purse I had slung over one shoulder. The purse was Cherry's and had a can of aerosol hair spray in it. I had a golden lighter in the pocket of the jacket. The lighter belonged to Asher. It was too hot to be wearing the jacket.
All that leather crinkled and sighed every time I moved. Under other circumstances, it might have been interesting; as it was, it was irritating. Important safety tip: Don't try to sneak up on people in new leather. At least not people with supernatural hearing. Of course, we weren't sneaking up on anybody tonight. The vampires knew we were coming.
Verne's people had delivered the message. Once Richard arrived on the scene, my suspicious nature was ignored. If Verne said he told the vamps where to meet and why, then of course Richard believed him. Truthfully, so did I, but it still bugged me how easily Richard accepted Verne's word.
Of course, Richard had been visiting with Verne's pack for several years every summer. He knew them as friends. I respected friendship; I just didn't always trust it. Okay, I didn't trust other people's friends. I trusted my own, because I trusted my own judgment. Which meant, I guess, that I still didn't trust Richard's judgment. No, I didn't.
Thinking of him was enough. I could feel him off to my left like a warm presence moving through the summer night. I had a moment of feeling him walking. I could feel the rhythm of his body as he moved. I was almost dizzy, stumbling, as I pulled away from the image.
Zane took my arm. "You all right?"
I nodded and pulled away. I didn't know him that well yet. If I had a choice, I wasn't that touchy-feely with people I didn't know. But the moment I pulled away, I felt him shrink back. I knew without any magic at all that I'd hurt his feelings. I was his Nimir-ra, his leopard queen, and I was supposed to like him, or at least not dislike him. I didn't know whether apologizing would make it worse or better, so I said nothing.
Zane moved off through the woods, leaving me to myself. He was wearing the leather pants, vest, and boots he'd worn on the plane. Funny how Zane's personal wardrobe was just fine for tonight.
Richard stopped moving and stared at me across the yards that separated us. He was dressed all in black: leather pants and a silk shirt that clung to his new, improved, muscular upper body. He'd been lifting weights since Jean-Claude last measured him for shirts. He stood there all in black, a color I'd never seen him in. The moonlight was strong enough that I could see his face in bold highlights; only the eyes were lost to shadow, as if he were blind. Even from here, I could feel him like a line of heat in my body.
Earlier, Asher had made things in my body go low and tight. But now, standing in the hot, summer woods, watching the gleam of moonlight reflecting off the silk and leather on Richard's body, seeing his hair slide like a soft cloud around his shoulders, it made my chest tight, closer to tears than to lust, because he wasn't mine anymore. Whether I liked it or not, whether I wanted it or not, I would always regret not having been with Richard. I'd had other opportunities in the past for being with other guys in intimate settings, but I'd never regretted saying no before. In fact, I always felt like I'd dodged a bullet. Only Richard made me regret.
He started walking towards me. It made me look away as if we'd been at a restaurant or something, and I'd been caught staring at my ex. I remembered a night just after college when I'd been in a restaurant with some friends, and seen my ex-fiance with his new girlfriend. He'd walked towards us as if he'd introduce me to her. I'd fled to the ladies' room and hid out until one of my girlfriends came and told me the coast was clear. Four years ago, I'd run for cover because he had dumped me and didn't seem to miss me. Now I stood my ground but not because I had dumped Richard. I stood my ground because my pride wouldn't let me hurry away through the trees and pretend I hadn't run away. I wasn't much into running lately.
So I stood there in the silvered dark, my heart beating in my throat, and waited for him to come to me.
Jamil and Shang-Da stood together in the dark, watching but not following him, as if he'd told them to stay put. Even from here, I could tell Shang-Da didn't like it. As far as I could see, Shang-Da hadn't changed clothes. He was still in his all-black, totally monochromed tailored suit, shirt, and accessories.
Richard came to stand about two feet in front of me. He just looked down at me and said nothing. I couldn't read his expression, and I didn't want to read his mind again.
I broke first, babbling. "I'm sorry about that, Richard. I didn't mean to invade you like that. I'm not very good at controlling the marks yet."
"That's all right," he said. Why is it that voices in the dark can sound so much more intimate?
"You okay with Asher's plan for tonight?" I asked, more for something to say while he stared down at me than for anything else.
Verne had learned through Mira that Colin believed that Asher was his replacement. Both masters were of an equivalent age. Colin was more powerful, but much of that extra power could have been from the ties that made him Master of the City. It was the first time I'd ever been told that just being Master of the City gave you extra power. Live and learn.
"I understand that Asher has to convince Colin that he doesn't want the job," Richard said.
Asher had decided that the way to do that was to convince Colin he was infatuated with me and with Jean-Claude. I wasn't sure how I felt about the plan, really. But we all agreed, even Richard, that the local vamps wouldn't believe that ties of friendship and nostalgia made Asher happy where he was. Vampires are like people in one respect, they'll believe a sexual explanation before an innocent one. Even death doesn't change the human trait of being willing to believe the worst of a person rather than the best.
"It's none of my business what you do or who you do it with, remember?" His voice was a great deal more neutral than his words.
"I was embarrassed in the bathroom. You caught me off guard."
"I remember," I said. He shook his head. "If we're supposed to flaunt our power tonight, that means we need to use the marks."
"Mira told them that you were interviewing new lupas. They know we're not an item," I said.
"We don't have to show them domestic bliss, Anita, just power." He held out his hand to me.
I stared at it. The last time he'd led me through summer woods had been the night he killed Marcus. The night when everything had gone wrong.
"I don't think I can take another stroll through the woods, Richard."
His hand closed into a fist. "I know I handled it badly that night, Anita. You'd never seen me shapeshift, and I shifted on top of you, while you couldn't get away. I've thought about that. I couldn't have chosen a worse way to introduce you to what I was. I know that now, and I'm sorry I scared you."
Scared didn't quite cover it, but I didn't say it out loud. He was apologizing, and I was going to accept it. "Thank you, Richard. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just ... "
"Couldn't handle it," he said.
I sighed. "Couldn't handle it."
He held his hand out to me. "I'm sorry, Anita."
"Me, too, Richard."
He gave a small smile. "No magic, Anita, just your hand in mine."
I shook my head. "No, Richard."
"Afraid?" he asked.
I stared up at him. "When we need to draw the marks, we can touch; but not here, not now."
He reached up to touch my face, and I heard the silk of his shirt rip. He lowered his arm and put three fingers in the ripped seam. "That's the third time that's happened." He spread the seam on the other arm, putting his whole hand in it. He turned and showed me his back. The seams at the shoulders had pulled apart on both sides like mouths.
I giggled, and I don't do that often. "You look like the Incredible Hulk."
He flexed his arms and shoulders like a bodybuilder. The look of mock concentration on his face made me laugh. The silk ripped with an almost wet sound. Silk sounds the closest to flesh of any cloth when you tear it; only leather sounds more alive under a blade.
