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Richard was yelling, "No claws, Roxanne, no claws."
I don't think Roxanne heard him. She swiped at me with those monstrous claws, and I ducked under the swinging arm. I ducked blows that were too fast to see, avoided her like I knew where she'd be. It was Richard, the marks, but it was too confusing, too new for me to be able to fight with it. I could use it to avoid her, but only for so long.
I ended up on my back, on the floor, pointing the Firestar up at her. She was coming with claws and teeth, and I was out of options.
The door burst open, and Verne yelled, "Roxanne, no!" I felt his power crash through the room like the lid on a boiling pot, something thrown over the heat, to hold it, contain it, but it didn't stop it.
Ben and Roland were suddenly hanging onto Roxanne, dragging her back from me. If Verne had given an order to them, I hadn't heard it. Roxanne was cutting them up, slicing their arms open, and they were taking it.
Verne was still yelling, "I lied, Roxanne. I lied. She didn't proposition me."
Roxanne went very still in their arms. She spoke around that only partly human mouth, "What did you say?"
Lucy came in behind Verne, through the still-open door. She shut the door and leaned against it, smiling, enjoying the show.
"I said, I lied," Verne said. "I'm an old man, and you are beautiful and powerful and thirty years younger than I am. I told you when she marked my neck that she propositioned me. She didn't."
Roxanne relaxed in the grip of her bleeding bodyguards. You could feel the tension seep away, and with it her flesh. Her face, her hands, flowed until she stood human again. Her nose was bloody where I'd kicked her.
"You can let me go," she said. "I won't hurt her."
They didn't let her go. They looked at Verne.
"How about me, darling?" he said. "You going to hurt me?"
"When we get home, I'll kick the shit out of you, but not here, not now."
Verne smiled. Roxanne smiled. And both smiles were the same. It was more than lust, though that was mixed in with it. It was a look that couples have, like a secret language, a look that excludes everyone else and cannot be explained.
I looked at Richard. "They be crazier than we are."
He smiled at me, and the smile warmed me down to my Nikes. I smiled back, and realized with a jolt that tingled through my entire body that we had our own secret look. God, I'd missed him.
Lucy stalked into the room on a pair of platform shoes, purple short-shorts, and what looked like a lavender bra but probably wasn't. She sashayed up to Richard, slipping both of her arms through one of his.
"He's rejected me for you, sweetie," she said in a voice that was too pleasant for the anger in her eyes.
I looked at Richard. "I don't think he dumped you because of me."
She pushed away from Richard to stand in front of me. I had the gun in my hand. I figured I was safe. The marks with Richard faded, pulled back, replaced with the knowledge that we were a couple again. I valued that a hell of a lot more than the marks.
"I can do things for him in bed that your human body could never do. I can take every ounce of strength, every thrust, and it just feels good. It doesn't have to be gentle with me, careful with me."
Which hit a little close to home, which is my only excuse for what I said next. "Gee, Lucy, I don't know. He spends one night with me and drops you like yesterday's news. Either you're not that good a lay, or I'm better."
Her face narrowed down, eyes wide; for a second, I thought she might cry. I didn't want her to cry. That would spoil it and make me feel like a shit.
Lucy turned away from me, bringing her hands to cover her face. Damn.
I looked past her to Richard. The look on his face was not happy with me. I couldn't blame him on this one.
I didn't see Lucy turn, I felt it. I felt the air move as she whirled. Her hand caught me across the face. I had the sensation of falling, but if I hit the ground, I didn't remember it.
41
I woke to darkness and the smell of clean sheets. I blinked at the strange windows and the spill of moonlight on the floor. I didn't recognize the room. Once I realized I wasn't anywhere I'd ever been, tension filled me like water. I heard someone behind me, and that raised the tension another notch. I tried to lie still, but I knew my breathing had changed. If they were human, they might not have noticed, but I just didn't know that many humans right now.
"Anita, it's Damian."
I rolled over onto my right side, and it hurt. My right arm was bandaged from my palm to about the middle of my forearm. It didn't hurt that much, but I couldn't remember how I'd injured it. The vampire was sitting in a chair by the door. His long, red hair looked a strange pale brown in the dark. He was wearing the vest and pants of a very nice, probably tailored, business suit. It might have been black or navy or even dark brown. His skin glowed pale against the darkness of the cloth.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"You're the only one wearing a watch," he said.
I raised my left hand in front of my face and hit the little button that made it glow. The glow seemed brighter than it should have because of the darkness. "God, it's after eleven. I've been out for hours." I lay back on the bed. "Did it occur to anyone to take me to a hospital?"
"The sun's only been down for a little over two hours, Anita. I don't know what choices were made. When Asher and I woke, we were in the basement here. We fed, then I took Richard's place here by your bed."
"Where is Richard?"
"I think he's at their lupanar, but I'm not certain."
I glanced at him. He seemed somehow distant. "You didn't ask any questions?"
"I was told to stay here and guard your rest. What more did I need to know?"
"You aren't a slave, Damian. You're allowed to ask questions."
"I got to sit here in the dark and watch you sleep. What more could your pet vampire ask?" That last had a bitter edge to it.
I sat up slowly because I still felt wobbly. "What's that supposed to mean?" I tried to prop my back against the heavy wooden headboard but needed more pillows under me. I tried to push them under me with my right hand, and it hurt. It was a nice, sharp ache.
"I remember Lucy hitting me, but what happened to my arm?"
Damian put one knee on the bed and helped prop the pillows under my back. He even found an extra one for me to lay my right arm on. "Richard said Lucy tried to pull your arm off."
That bit of knowledge left me cold and scared. "Jesus, a woman scorned."
"Pillows better?" he asked.
"Yeah, thanks."
He got to his feet and started to move back to the chair.
I said, "Don't." I held my left hand out to him.
He took my hand. His skin was warm to the touch. There was a light dew of sweat on his palm. Vampires can sweat, but they don't do it often. I squeezed his hand, staring up into his face. The moonlight was strong, so I could see his face. His skin was pale, almost luminous. Those brilliant green eyes were just liquid darkness by moonlight. I drew him to sit beside me.
"You've fed tonight or your skin would be cold, so why the sweat?"
He drew his hand out of mine, turning his face away. "You don't want to know."
"Yeah, I do." I touched his chin with my fingertips, turning his face back to me. "What's wrong?"
"Don't you have enough to worry about without bothering with me?"
"Tell me what's wrong, Damian. I mean it."
He let out a long, shaking breath. "There; you've done it. A direct order."
"Tell me," I said.
"I was happy to sit here in the dark and watch you sleep. I think if Richard had known just how happy, he would have made Asher do it."
I frowned at him. "You've lost me."
"You feel it, too, Anita. Not as strongly as I do, but you feel it."
"Feel what, Damian?"
"This." He placed his hand against my face, and I wanted to rub my face against his skin. I had a momentary urge to pull him down on the bed beside me. Not for sex, necessarily, but to touch him. To run my hands over that pale skin, to bathe in the power that animated his flesh.
I swallowed hard and drew back from his hand. "What is going on, Damian?"
"You're a necromancer, and I'm the walking dead. You've raised me from the dead twice. You've called me once from my coffin and once back from the edge of true death. You've healed me with your powers. I am your creature. I have made vows of loyalty to Jean-Claude as my Master of the City, and I honor them, but you I would follow into hell itself. Not out of duty, but out of desire. I can think of nothing better than to be by your side. Nothing pleases me more than doing what you ask. When I'm near you, I find it very hard to do almost anything large, like feeding or leaving your presence, without asking your permission."
