I staggered to Jamil and fell beside him to my knees. He'd changed back to human form, which meant he had been very hurt. I stared down at his nude body and fought with Raina not to touch him. Not to do what she wanted. Or not to do everything she wanted.
I ran my hands over Jamil's chest until I touched the wound. The skin was closed, but soft. I knew I could force my fingers inside him. I knew I could reach in and snatch his heart. Instead, I lowered my face to his chest and kissed the wound, gently, softly. I closed my eyes and took in the scent of him, the feel of his soft skin. Healing skin was always so soft, like a baby's flesh, tender and smooth. I put my hands over the wound and thrust that warm building power into him like a sword.
Jamil's eyes flew wide, and his spine bowed. He tried to scream, and I stole it with a kiss. I rode his body, straddling not his groin but the second, lower wound. I drew back from his lips and forced my hands low on his body. I healed him. I felt it leave my body in a warm rush. My hands slid lower. I brushed him and he was beginning to grow hard. I threw myself off of him. She'd healed him. Raina felt somebody owed her something for the healing.
I fought it until I fell back into the leaves and screamed. My body writhed and it was like my left side wasn't talking to my right. Like something was breaking inside me. That large, warm presence, that second body was trying to rise to the surface, trying to break the surface. Raina's beast was trying to come out. Trying to make me lupa in truth, but my body couldn't hold it. Couldn't give it a home. I was human, and no matter how much power you shoved into me, that didn't change.
Hands held me down. Richard's voice as if from a great height. "What's happening to her?"
"She's fighting the munin." It was Marianne's voice. I heard her voice close to my face, but I couldn't see her. It was like the world was vanishing into the dark. "Don't fight, Anita. Whatever happens tonight, tomorrow I can help you. Give in and live, or the munin will kill you."
"Anita, please, please!" Richard again.
"She will kill you if she can. She will kill you from the grave itself, Anita. Stop fighting. Embrace it, or it will destroy you."
I screamed, "No!" Then, suddenly, I could see again. I stared up into the tree-lined darkness. There was a sparkle of moonlight through the leaves. It seemed as bright as sunlight, only softer. I lay very still, blinking up at them all. Richard had my shoulders pinned. Verne had my legs. Shang-Da had my right arm. Lucy had my left. I'd been having convulsions. I remembered that.
Marianne was kneeling near my face, keeping my face still between her hands. "Anita?" she made it a question.
"I'm here." My voice was quiet but clear. I felt light and empty, but not alone. I wasn't fooled. The munin hadn't left. It wasn't finished.
"Is the munin gone?" Richard asked.
Marianne shook her head. "It's still here."
It made me think better of her that she wasn't fooled.
"Do we let her up?" Verne asked.
"Anita?" Marianne asked me.
"Let me up."
They let me go, slowly, as if almost afraid. Afraid of me or for me, I wasn't sure which. They moved away from me. Only Richard stayed kneeling. I leaned my back against him and let him hold me in his arms. I closed my eyes and let him take it all away for just an instant. I'd never had anyone's arms feel as safe as his. No one's.
My leg brushed something in the leaves. I pulled away from him enough to find my knife. I sheathed it.
From across the small clearing, Jason said, "Here's the other one." He held it up by the blade.
I went to him, taking the blade from his hand. I could feel all of them watching me. Like I was something new and uncertain that had just appeared. I sheathed the second blade.
Jason grinned up at me. "Don't take this wrong, Anita, but someday I'd like to do that for real."
"Why not tonight?" I said.
Jason stared up at me. "What did you say?"
I walked back across the clearing. I felt their eyes following me as I moved. I smelled of blood and power and flesh, and there was nothing better than that for attracting werewolves.
Richard stood there in his jeans and T-shirt. His hair foamed around his shoulders, a soft, rich brown in the moonlight.
I grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt and forced his face low enough for me to kiss. The kiss was long and full, and he tasted all the blood I'd had. Every skin I'd touched. I pulled his shirt out of his pants in a long motion, running my hands across his bare stomach, across the smooth hardness of his chest.
He grabbed my arms and pulled my hands away. "What's wrong with you?"
"Is she not good enough for you either?" It was Lucy striding towards us. Her impressive breasts strained against the white material of her halter top. Either she had very large nipples or she was cold, because the outline of her nipples was clear, even in this dim light.
I stared up at Richard. I'd been sleeping with Jean-Claude. He'd been sleeping with Lucy and Mira -- mustn't forget Mira. It was fair that he had other lovers. Really. But I hated it and hated me for minding. Hated me for wanting him. Hated me for being with Jean-Claude and not being happy with it. Hated me for knowing that even if I'd been with Richard instead, I'd have been missing Jean-Claude. I was fucked no matter what I did.
I knew as I stared at her that the hands that held my arms with such tender strength had cupped those large, round breasts. I knew that she'd touched him, all of him. That she'd held him naked inside her. And I knew jealousy so strong that the only word for it was hate.
I pulled away from Richard and unsheathed one of the knives.
Shang-Da moved forward as if to step between us, but Richard stopped him and made him step back. He just stared at Shang-Da until he stepped out of reach, but you could tell from his face that he was really unhappy about it. I didn't blame him. Richard turned back to me, stared at me, but made no move to protect himself. I don't know if he didn't believe I'd hurt him or was sure I couldn't. I was sure I could.
My hand was already on the downward stroke before I could stop myself. I sliced through his shirt, not deep, but the wound bled.
He winced, eyes so lost, hurt. Fuck him.
Shang-Da was there, and it was Richard who struggled with him. Richard who kept him from grabbing me, disarming me, hurting me.
I put the tip of the blade against my chest and drew downward over my heart. The pain was sharp and immediate, but it was shallow. I wasn't hurt. The blood trickled down between my breasts like tickling fingers. The blood was very dark against the whiteness of my skin.
Richard started towards me, and Verne caught him. "It's her choice," Verne said.
"It's not her. It's Raina," Richard said.
But in a way he was wrong. Raina had finally found something that called to both of us. We both wanted him to suffer. We both felt betrayed. And neither of us had a right to it. We'd both betrayed him in our own ways.
Words that I didn't know spilled from my lips. "Your heart to mine, mine to yours. Lupa to your Ulfric. But not to your bed, nor you to mine." I threw the knife into the ground so it stuck, thrumming. I could feel the blade in the earth as if I'd disturbed some large, sleeping beast. The power burst over me from the ground, from me, and something let loose in a liquid rush inside me. I was dizzy and on my knees without meaning to fall.
I stared up at Richard, still struggling, and said, "Help me." But it was too late. I felt the munin blow outward like a wind. And every man it touched caught the scent. I could almost feel their bodies react. I knew what Raina had done, and if it were to be her last night in the driver's seat, she couldn't have chosen better. Short of killing me, it was the perfect revenge.