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"Will it make you feel any better if I promise to behave myself."
"Maybe, if you can pull it off."
"I can pull it off," he said, giving me very serious eye contact. He certainly vibrated sincerity.
"Don't take this wrong, Micah, but I've been disappointed pretty badly recently by the men in my life. It's a little hard to trust that anyone can pull it off."
He reached out to touch me, then let his hand fall back, as if something in my face hadn't been friendly. "I'll do my best tonight, Anita, that I can promise."
I sighed. "I believe you."
"But," he said.
I had to smile. "Your intentions are good, my intentions are good, Jean-Claude's intentions are probably good." I shrugged. "You know what they say about good intentions."
"My best is all I can offer," he said.
"And it's all I can ask, but let's say I'm not exactly sure how to handle this. I'd barely gotten to where I could deal with Richard and Jean-Claude at the same time, and now here you are. I just don't know."
"I can go back to your house," he said.
"No, Jean-Claude asked to meet you."
Micah looked at me. "And that makes you nervous."
I half-laughed. "Oh, yeah."
"Why?"
"If Jean-Claude were ha**ng s*x with someone else, I wouldn't want to meet them."
Micah shrugged. "Do you think he means me harm?"
"No," I said, "no, nothing like that." I tried to put it into words and couldn't. Maybe it was just my lack of sophistication. How do you introduce boyfriend C to boyfriend A, after boyfriend A has been such a good sport, of late, about boyfriend B, who is no longer in the picture? Or maybe it was the way Jean-Claude had asked for him. "Bring your Nimir-Raj, ma petite, I would like to meet him."
"Why?" I'd asked.
"Am I not entitled to meet the other man in your bed?"
It had made me blush. But here Micah was, and here we were outside the Circus. Jean-Claude was inside, waiting. I was actually more scared about introducing the two of them than I was worried about Damian. If Jean-Claude didn't try and kill Micah, then I'd worry about Damian. I was ninety-nine per-cent sure that Jean-Claude wouldn't start a fight. It was the last one percent that clenched my gut into a tight knot as we moved out into the darkness.
The two new bodyguards came up to flank me as I walked towards the back door. They were both over six feet, male, and radiated bodyguard badass. Other than that they were almost opposites. Cris (no h, it's short for Cristiano) was mid-twenty-something, skin tanned a soft gold, eyes a pale shade of gray blue. His hair was that shade of pale brown that some people call blond. Bobby Lee was over forty, very short hair, gone white gray, eyebrows still black above startling blue eyes, like bits of water-blue sapphires. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and beard that were also black, with the first streaks of white and gray running through them.
Cris had no accent whatsoever, but Bobby Lee's voice was thick as hominy, and twice as Southern.
Nathaniel tried to stand next to me, and Cris moved to keep him away. "He's with me," I said.
"We were ordered to keep you safe. I don't know him."
"Look, both of you, we don't have time for major introductions here. He's one of my wereleopards, so are the two blonds. Micah's the one with the ponytail, the two men with him his leopards."
"Who's the redhead?" Bobby Lee asked.
"Gil, he's a werefox, and he's under my protection, too."
"They're like walking cannon fodder," Cris said.
I frowned up at him. "Most of this cannon fodder are friends, or more, to me. If the shit hits the fan and you save me at the expense of their lives, you will follow them."
"Our orders are to keep you safe, ma'am, no one else," Bobby Lee said.
I shook my head and drew Nathaniel into the crook of my arm. "What would Rafael do if you protected him but got his people slaughtered?"
They glanced at each other. Bobby Lee finally spoke. "It would depend on the situation."
"Yeah, maybe, but I'm armed, and can take care of myself most of the time. I need backup, not interference."
"We weren't told to be backup," Bobby Lee said.
"I know, but tonight there may be a certain amount of grandstanding. Jean-Claude won't let me get hurt, but he might play with some of the others, even me. Don't overreact, okay."
"You're making it so we can't do our job," Cris said.
I shrugged, hugging Nathaniel to me. "I appreciate you being here. I appreciate the help. I might be dead right now if Igor and Claudia hadn't been with me. But there are people who I would risk my life to keep safe, and some of them are with me tonight. All I'm saying is keep cool, don't overreact, don't jump the gun."
Again they looked at each other. I sighed. Bobby Lee was wearing a sleeveless jean jacket over his T-shirt. Cris wore a short-sleeved dress shirt and oversized black tank top untucked, sloppy over his khaki pants. It was too hot to wear a coat. But I was wearing a black silk shirt, open over a black tank top myself. I had my shirt tucked in, and the Firestar 9mm in a front draw across the front of all that black. Most people wouldn't see it, black on black. But the long-sleeved shirt was hiding guns and knives. I was betting that Bobby Lee had at least one gun under his jacket, probably at the small of his back, because there was no bulge, no matter how slight, under either arm. It was hard to see the bulge under Cris's left arm. He'd chosen a shirt with a lot of print on it, bright patterns to distract the eye, but a hot wind blew his shirt back, and I caught a glimpse of his shoulder holster. I couldn't be sure what was under the untucked tank top, but I was betting at least one more gun, in front for a cross-draw, just like mine.
"You cannot shoot anyone tonight unless I say so, how's that for clear?"
"We have our orders," Bobby Lee said, "and they aren't from you."
"Then you can go back to Rafael and tell him I refused your help."
Cris's eyes widened a touch. Bobby Lee's expression never changed. Those pretty blue eyes were as empty as glass, no one home. "Why are you so afraid of taking us inside?" he asked.
I sighed again and tried to put it into words they'd understand and I was willing to share. I couldn't come up with anything, so I tried the truth. "I am about to introduce my Nimir-Raj to the Master of the City for the first time."
"You f**king both of them?" Bobby Lee asked, and the phrase seemed wrong with that Scarlett O'Hara accent.
I started to protest, or bitch, but let it go. "Yeah, I am, and I'm a little worried about how the introduction's going to go."
"You think the Master will try and kill your Nimir-Raj?" Cris asked.
"No, but he may want to play with him, and a vampire's idea of fun and games can get a little odd."
Bobby Lee laughed. "Odd, she says, odd." He laughed again, and it sounded warm and deep and rumbly. The laughter filled his eyes, made them more real. "What she is trying to say, Cris, is that we are about to be entertained just like when the rats meet the hyenas. A show of force with no danger, but maybe a little discomfort."
"Yeah, what he just said."
Cris nodded. "So tonight isn't real."
"It's real," I said, "but it's just not dangerous in any way you can protect me from."
"We're supposed to protect you, period," Cris said.
Bobby Lee clamped him on the shoulder. "We can't protect her from her own love life, Cris. We're supposed to keep her body intact, not her heart."
"Oh," Cris said, and he looked suddenly much younger--early twenties, at best.
Bobby Lee turned to me. "We'll hang back tonight, unless you're in real physical danger."
"I'm glad we understand each other."
His eyes went empty again, the smile still curving his lips. "Oh, we don't understand each other at all, ma'am, I can almost guarantee that, but we'll do what we're told, until we decide not to."
I didn't exactly like the sound of that, but, looking into his empty blue eyes, I knew it was the best I was going to get.
Chapter 48
THE STEPS LEADING down into the bowels of the Circus are wide enough for three small people to walk abreast, but the steps themselves are oddly spaced, as if whatever the steps were originally built for wasn't two-legged, or at least wasn't human sized.
