“You have the wolves,” he said, “and through two treaties, the wererats.”
“Yeah, but it’s unusual to have such close ties with other groups.
Vamps scouting us for takeover won’t count beyond the wolves. It won’t occur to most of them that a treaty with an animal that isn’t the master’s to call will come through when the going gets tough.”
“So you approve of Primo being here?”
“No, definitely not, not after last night. I think we should shoot his ass, but I understand why Jean-Claude took the chance. We need some vamps that can fight, not just look pretty.” As if on cue, the door opened, and it was my favorite pretty vampire.
56
We both turned to look at the door, though my turn was less turny than Richard’s. Jean-Claude was in the doorway wearing the black robe.
I was so fond of. The one that was edged with real black fur at the lapels, and framed his pale chest so nicely. His long black curls had been combed out, so that he looked fresh and lovely. I still needed a shower. Oh, well.
“I didn’t feel you wake. I always feel you wake.”
“You are both shielding very, very hard,” he said, as he strode into the room. His bare feet were very pale against the dark carpet.
“I heard your last comment, ma petite, should I take it as an insult?”
“Sorry, but we need soldiers not seducers. We’ve got plenty of those.”
He gave that wonderful Gallic shrug that meant everything and nothing. It was a graceful movement. Sometimes I wondered ifshrug was the right word. If what Americans do is a shrug, whatever Jean-Claude did wasn’t the same.
“I told your Nathaniel to go and feed his new and surprising form.
He will be even more popular when the ladies see this new shape of his.” He was being very pleasant, very casual. His face held a smile, and his movements were graceful and a little flamboyant. He was hiding something. I’d learned long ago that this wasn’t the real Jean-Claude.
This was one of his many faces that he used when reality would be too harsh, or too shocking, or too something.
“What’s up, Jean-Claude?”
“Whatever do you mean, ma petite? ” he asked, and came to sit down on part of the bed near me. Part that I’d removed the sheets from, so we were sitting on the relatively clean mattress. The bed bobbed unevenly as he settled on it. He looked at Richard, as the bed moved oddly. “I think you are going to owe mypomme de sang a bed frame, Richard.”
Richard actually had the grace to look embarrassed. “I lost my temper, I am sorry for that. I’ll replace the frame.”
“Good,” he crossed his legs, one a little higher than it needed to be, so he could lace his hands around the knee, and expose a line of pale leg. Was he flirting. No, that wasn’t it.
It wasn’t me who said the next part, but it was like my thoughts came out Richard’s mouth-scary. “Cut the act, Jean-Claude, just tell us what’s happened now?”
The face he gave us was way too innocent. “Whatever do you mean, mon ami? ”
Richard and I exchanged glances that said worlds. Richard spoke for us. “No games, Jean-Claude, remember.”
“You are beginning to sound painfully likema petite. ”
“Thank you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
That earned him a smile and a nod from me.
Richard smiled at me, and it was the first real smile I’d seen on him since he stepped into the room. It was good to see it, and I found that I had one of my own to give back. There, we were all being friendly.
“You’re doing your flamboyant, happy, casual act,” I said. “Cut the act, and tell us what’s up.”
“You do realize, ma petite, that Richard has become almost as blunt at times as you are.”
“And I’m starting to have moments when I sound like you, Jean-Claude. Let me guess, the closer binding last night has had some interesting side effects.”
“Not just us being closer, ma petite, but your binding of a new triumvirate to you. That has upped the side effects, I believe.” His face was still lovely, but the nearly pretentious movements were fading, changing to a seriousness that I didn’t like seeing. He wasn’t happy about something. I didn’t know what it was, but it had to be something that he either thought both, or at least one of us, really wouldn’t like.
He started by confessing that my being willing to do Byron and feed Requiem was probably his less-finicky tastes coming out through me. I stopped him before he got through it. “If I hadn’t fed on Byron and Requiem, you wouldn’t have had enough energy to control Primo. He would have slaughtered the audience. My virtue versus the lives of dozens of people, hmm, let me think.” I shrugged. “It’s okay, though I’d rather not make a habit of it.”
“You surprise me, ma petite. ” But he relaxed against the bed. His posture was still perfect, a lot of the old vamps had good posture, but it was more relaxed all the same.
“I’ve learned that a little sex isn’t a fate worse than death, Jean-Claude.”
“Is that all?” Richard said. “Or is there more that you’d rather we don’t know, but feel that we need to know?”
“See, see, he is like you now. Two of you, I do not know if I can…”
“Just tell us,” I said.
He gave me a small frown. “You seem to have figured out that we are mixing and mingling our abilities in more than just a metaphysical way. I do not know all we will gain, or lose, depending on how one looks at it, only that it is happening.”
“I think that Nathaniel and I traded a little dominance and submission.” I saw the look on Richard’s face, and added, “I mean that ever since we became a triumvirate, Nathaniel seems a little more dominant, and I seem to enjoy being a little more submissive.
Admittedly, Nathaniel was trying to be more dominant before, but he really seems to be taking to it.” Saying it made me want to squirm with discomfort, but I fought it off. I’d be damned if I’d apologize even by a gesture. I’m nothing if not defiant, especially if I’m uncomfortable.
“Then, apparently, we can expect a mingling of our basic personalities, as well,” Jean-Claude said, and he tried for casual and failed.
“This could get really strange,” I said, and it was my turn to draw my knees up to my chest, though for Richard, I think it had been comfortable, for me it was comforting myself.
“Is that all the bad news?” Richard asked, and looked directly at him.
“I do not see it as bad news, mon ami, but the two of you might.”
“Spill it,” I said, knees hugged to my chest.
“You have turned mypomme de sang into his animal form, one of them anyway. I, like you until recently, prefer my food without fur.”
I did my best not to look at Richard. “Who did you have in mind?”
“Requiem told me of the amount of blood you lost last night, ma petite. I think it is wiser if you do not donate more quite so soon.”
I heard Richard’s sigh from where I was sitting, and he wasn’t sitting that close to me. “I would say it’s always me, but it’s usually not. I know that Anita isn’t your regular feed, but I know she lets you feed.” He put his face against his knees and sighed again.
“Fine, but only if Anita is here, too. No just you and me.”
“Define Anita beingwith us?”
“That’s not what I said,” Richard said.
“Is that not what you meant?” Jean-Claude asked.
Richard seemed to think about it for a second, then gave a small nod. “I guess it is, but hearing you say it, it seems-”
“I’ll second Jean-Claude’s question, define me beingwith you guys.”
Richard blushed. He didn’t blush often, and this was two in one conversation. “I don’t mean it the way you make it sound.”
“Then tell us how you do mean it, mon ami. ”
“I don’t want. I mean…” he made that sound again, wordless, frustrated. “Why is it that every time I do anything that includes both of you, I always end up feeling like I’m wrong?”
I made one of those mental leaps, because I was remembering Richard’s problem with everyone thinking he was, or had been, doing Jean-Claude. I decided to rescue him. He was, after all, going to open a vein for Jean-Claude. That deserved some consideration, considering that his rules about feeding vamps used to be the same as mine.