Anita Blake 14 - Danse macabre (11 page)

I was still staring into Samuel's eyes when I felt a hand glide down my shoulder. I turned, and found Thomas standing next to us. Thea began to pull out of my arms, giving me to Thomas's arms as she moved, so that it was as if the embrace never stopped, only the arms holding me had changed.

There was movement around us. I saw Micah's face, his lips moving, but I couldn't hear him. All I could hear was the sigh and echo of the sea. Thomas touched my face, turned me back to look at him. He spoke, and his words held the growling echo of surf over rocks. "You hear my voice though, don't you?"

I nodded, my face pressed against his hand. His hand was large enough to cup the entire side of my face. He leaned down, and I went up on tiptoe to help him finish the kiss. I wasn't thinking that he was seventeen. I wasn't thinking we had an audience that included his parents. I wasn't thinking that men I loved were watching. I saw nothing but his face, felt nothing but the strength of his hands on my face, his arm trailing down my back, his hand gliding down my body. The inside of my head was peaceful, full of a soft, rushing sound, like water as it spills along some peaceful shore. I wasn't the one who fought free of the mind games, it was Thomas who spoiled it. His hand slid down, down, and found the gun at the small of my back. It made him hesitate. Made him stumble as if his magic had legs to be tripped by a misplaced stone.

I pulled back from him, saw the uncertainty on his face. He was still handsome, and the compulsion to touch him was still there whispering through my head, but his eyes were wide, his face uncertain. He looked fresh and new and untried, like someone who had never hugged someone and found her wearing a gun.

The sound of the surf pulled away, and I could hear the murmuring in the room. People wondering what to do, whether they should interfere.

"That's a gun," he said, in a voice as uncertain as his face.

I nodded. I had gone back to being flat-footed on my heels, no more tiptoe, no more helping him seduce me with his mother's magic, or his own.

He'd actually missed the big knife down my spine, because he hadn't come to the midline of my body until low on my back. But it was a big weapon to miss. Baby, he was a baby. And I'd have said that if he'd been twenty-seven instead of seventeen. Baby not in years, but in my world. You don't miss a knife as long as a forearm, not and live, not for long. Not in my world.

I gazed up into his face. The black was beginning to drain away, showing the hazel of his human eyes. He was the son of a master vampire and a siren, but where he lived was a gentler, kinder place than my life. I would leave him to that gentleness.

I drew out of his arms, completely. "Go back and sit down, Thomas."

He hesitated and looked at his mother. She was watching me, not him. Watching me with those black eyes. There was a considering look on her face, as if she wasn't sure what she thought of the show.

"Do as Anita says, Thomas," she said, at last.

He went back to the love seat, to sit beside his brother. It left Thea and me staring at each other.

"He hesitated only for a moment," she said, "yet, it was enough."

"It's not his power," I said, "not yet. It's yours. You loaned him enough power to roll me."

She made a gesture that was almost a shrug, but her hands went out in a wide gesture. I think it meant,
Perhaps
, or,
You caught me
. I wasn't sure which, and wasn't sure I cared.

"You have greeted Thomas, but we have two other sons," she said.

Micah came up beside me. He took my hand. "In fairness to our other guests, I think we need to greet more of Auggie's people."

"They are only his henchmen, and his mistress. We have brought you our flesh and blood, the fruit of our lives."

Micah nodded, still smiling. "We appreciate that, but—"

I cut him off, and said, "Enough, Micah, thanks for trying to be all polite and hosty, but I've had enough of games for the night."

He squeezed my hand, as if saying,
Be nice
.

I squeezed back, but I was done being nice. I wouldn't be rude, but… "I'm going to greet Auggie and his people now, because they didn't try to roll me. Until Jean-Claude joins us, you and your sons are just going to have to wait to be greeted."

"So Augustine's whore is higher in rank than my sons?" Thea sounded genuinely angry.

There was a sound of outrage from the other side of the room—a woman's voice protesting and Auggie trying to calm her. I glanced to find him talking to a statuesque brunette in a very tiny dress. She was mad, and I didn't blame her.

I turned back to Samuel. "You talk to her, Samuel. You explain that your wife damn near abused our hospitality tonight."

"If we have truly abused your hospitality, then Jean-Claude could revoke our safe conduct," he said, voice deep, but strangely soft.

"I understand that."

"Did we frighten you that badly?" he asked.

"I agreed to Thea tasting my power, not Thomas. It wasn't what we negotiated for. I was told you were an honorable man; bait and switch isn't very honorable."

"Could you hear anything we said while Thomas touched you?" Micah asked.

I glanced at him, and shook my head. "I could hear his voice and the sound of the sea, that was it."

"I pointed out to Samuel that you hadn't bargained for Thomas."

"What did he say?"

"He said that for a siren to truly taste your power it needed to have a sexual flavor to it, and since you were not a lover of women, one of the boys would be helpful."

I shook my head. "I'm going to greet Auggie and his people now. Whether I let any of your other children touch me, or not, is up for a very serious debate." I put my gaze on Thea. "I don't like to be forced, or played, Thea. If you really want your sons to have a chance at my bed, or body, or power, you need to remember that."

"I saw into your mind when I embraced you," she said. "I saw what you think of my sons. You are disinclined toward them. Without magic to persuade you, I do not think they have any chance at your bed, your body, or your power."

My pulse was suddenly in my throat. I fought to keep a blank face, but wasn't sure I succeeded. How much had she read while she was playing inside my head? Did she know about the pregnancy scare?

Thea was watching me very narrowly. She saw the fear on me, but didn't understand why. Which meant either she'd only read things about her sons in my head, or she didn't understand why being pregnant would scare me. If the former, yea; if the latter, she was too odd for me to talk to.

I turned to Auggie and his angry girlfriend. She was the only woman on his side of the room. Standing in the spike heels she was over six feet tall. But whereas with Claudia it was all muscle, and menace, this woman was thin. There was no play of muscle to her arms and legs. She was making angry gestures with large hands, darkly painted nails, a diamond flashing on her right hand. Her dress was red with silver sequins. It fit her like a tiny, glittery second skin. The dress was so short that when she flounced around the couch, taking too long a step, she flashed enough flesh that I knew she wasn't wearing anything under the dress. Oh, my.

Auggie coaxed her back to me. Her face was perfect in a high-cheekboned, almost stark way. She wore enough makeup, artfully applied, that
stark
should not have been a word you used for her face. Her hair was long, and teased too high on the top, as if she'd never quite left the eighties, but it was brunette. It might even have been her natural color. The spaghetti straps of her dress and the thin material should not have been able to support her breasts. Breasts that large do not stay perky without more help than the dress could give. Her breasts sat under the dress in a way that real breasts just don't. She flounced toward me, holding Auggie's hand. The walk was good, bouncy, but her breasts didn't bounce with her. They were big, and even shapely, but they rode under her dress like they were way more solid than breasts are meant to be.

It took Micah tugging on my hand to let me know I'd missed something, staring at her chest. I shook my head and gave Auggie eye contact. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"This is Bunny; she is my mistress."

Bunny. I thought, was it her real name? I hoped so—who would choose to be Bunny? I nodded. "Hi, Bunny."

Auggie gave her a little pull, and a nod.

She gave an angry sullen face to me. "At least I'm only whoring for one man, not a dozen."

Micah actually pulled me away from her. I let him do it. I was so astounded at the rudeness of it that I was speechless. I wasn't even angry yet; it was too unexpected. Too rude.

Auggie ordered her to kneel, and when she didn't do it fast enough, he forced her. "Apologize, now!" His power filled the room like cold water, shivering along my skin.

"Why am I a whore, when his wife is pimping out her own sons, and this one is fucking everything and everyone that will stand still?"

"Benny," he said in a very quiet voice. I knew that tone of voice. It's the careful, controlled one you use when you're afraid of what you'll do if you yell.

The only vampire he'd brought with him moved around the couch to stand beside him. "Yeah, boss."

"Take her out of here. Get on a plane, take her back to Chicago, help her pack. Make sure she takes only what belongs to her."

Bunny's eyes went wide. "No, Auggie, no, I didn't mean it. I'm sorry."

He moved away, so she couldn't touch him. She tried to crawl after him, but Benny grabbed her arm. "Come on, Bunny, we gotta plane to catch."

She was human, and in five-inch heels, but she put up a fight. Benny was having trouble getting her to the door without hurting her. She'd proven to the entire room that she was naked under the tiny dress.

I said, "Claudia."

She came to me, all serious, the bodyguard's bodyguard. "Pick someone, or two someones, to help Benny get her out of here."

Claudia nodded, almost a bow, and said, "Fredo, Clay, help our guest out."

Fredo pushed himself from the wall, all boneless ease like some dark, well-armed cat. Clay just took Bunny's other arm, and helped Benny start carrying her toward the door. She used the spike heels effectively, probably drawing blood through Clay's pants. He never slowed, and neither did Benny, though his face was bleeding from nail marks. Fredo got both her ankles, and they carried her out.

Auggie gave me a very low bow. "I don't know what to say, Anita. I'm sorry that I brought her. I knew she was jealous, but not crazy jealous."

"Jealous?" I made it a question.

"She, like Samuel's Thea, is very competitive around other women."

I frowned at him. "So she and Thea were like trying to outbitch each other?"

He looked at me. "You really don't understand why she didn't like you from the moment you stepped into the room, do you?"

Micah drew me in against his body, hugging me one-armed. I looked back and forth from one to the other of them. "What?"

"No," Micah said, "she doesn't."

"Don't what?" I asked.

"You are a natural beauty," Auggie said. "Artifice gave Bunny her face, her figure; most of her best features were found under a surgeon's blade. In you walk, all natural equipment, wearing more clothes, and still get more attention from the men in the room than she did. When you were with Thea and Thomas, every man in the room was riveted. We wanted you. Wanted to touch you, in a way that is rare."

I felt myself blushing and tried to stop it, but, as usual, lost. "You're babbling, Auggie," I said.

"Watching you and a siren, two if you count the boy. Watching two creatures formed of desire, and it was not the pale beauty most eyes watched, Anita. It was the dark."

I frowned at him. "I don't need this much ego-boo, Auggie, just make your point. If you have a point?"

Nathaniel came up. "I'll translate."

"What do you mean, translate?" I said, turning to him.

He took my hand, and shook his head. His face had that I-love-you-but-you-amuse-me look. "You outvamped the sirens, Anita."

"How?"

"I believe," Auggie said, "because your power is over the dead, and the undead. I was told your animal to call was only leopard."

I nodded. "It is, but through Jean-Claude's marks, I also have ties to the wolves."

"Yes, but my men are neither. They are lion, and yet they felt your call."

I glanced behind him at the two men he'd brought along as both bodyguards and food, and I was told as
pomme de sang
candidates, though Auggie, like Samuel, had a new twist on the whole
pomme
thing. Auggie was hoping to convince one of our new female vamps from London to come home with him and play house. He wanted another of Belle's line in his bed. Maybe that had predisposed Bunny to be pissy. He had come here to replace her, after all.

Auggie was offering to trade one of his werelions for a bedmate of Belle's line. I wondered how the men in question felt; did they want to stay in St. Louis? Did they want to leave Chicago? Had anyone asked them? I was betting not.

They were both tall, and muscular, and all they needed was a blinking sign over their heads that said "bodyguard." They both wore tailored suits that hid the guns I was almost one hundred percent sure were under there somewhere. One was brunette, the other pale; other than that they looked as if an unimaginative baker had used the same cookie cutter for both of them. Only the icing was different. The pale one had short spiky, blue hair, which had actually been dyed well, so that it wasn't a solid blue color, but pale blue, dark blue, all mixed together like real hair is, and dyed hair seldom is. Except that nobody has hair the color of Cookie Monster and a spring sky on the top of their head. His eyes were a pale blue made deeper, richer, by the hair color. He was a little more slender through the shoulders, and maybe an inch taller, than the other guard.

The brunette's hair looked like it might curl, but he'd cut it so short it didn't have the chance. His shoulders had a swell that I was familiar with; someone lifted weights as more than a casual hobby. Not a bodybuilder, but he worked at it. He was tall enough to carry the shoulders.