Richard was still trying to explain, and failing.
“Look, I understand what Richard is trying to say.”
They both looked at me. Richard doubtful, and Jean-Claude amused, as if he, too, understood Richard’s discomfort, but couldn’t afford to let the other man see that he saw it. Or maybe something else amused him, you never can tell with Jean-Claude.
“You don’t want it to be just the two of you when Jean-Claude feeds,” I said.
Richard looked relieved, and nodded.
I did not say out loud, no you’re not homophobic, because if Richard wasn’t as comfortable with having another man touch him, then he was entitled. I’d never fed a female vamp voluntarily, so who was I to bitch?
Jean-Claude’s smile deepened just a touch. “And why is it such a problem for it to be just the two of us?”
I gave Jean-Claude a dirty look, and Richard was back to not knowing how to explain. “Jean-Claude, you know the old American saying, about not looking a gift horse in the mouth?”
“Oui.”
“You’re checking this one’s teeth.”
He laughed, that touchable laugh, which, even through the hardest shielding I had, made me shiver, and not from fear. I caught Richard’s movement out of the corner of my eye. He’d shivered, too. For the first time, I wondered how much of Jean-Claude’s abilities worked on Richard. I was terribly heterosexual, and sometimes I just didn’t think outside that box. Richard didn’t like boys, so Jean-Claude didn’t affect him the way he did me. That’s what I’d believed, now I wondered if Richard had more problems with Jean-Claude than I’d thought. If you were terribly hetero, but Jean-Claude’s powers could affect you, you had a problem if you were a man. The fact that it had never occurred to me before, proved beyond a doubt that sometimes I just wasn’t bright about the men around me.
“But before we get up close, I’ve got to get this stuff off of me.
It’s flaking, and I just don’t feel clean.”
“That would give us time to have the sheets changed, perhaps,”
Jean-Claude said. He touched the drying, caked sheets. “I have never seen a bed where more than one lycanthrope has shifted. It is, how do you say, a mess.”
His English was better than that, even for slang. He was back to being pleased with himself, and I didn’t know why. If I dropped shields enough for him to talk inside my head, I’d also have more of Richard in my head. I didn’t want that, so I’d have to ask him later, or I’d figure it out. Whatever.
“I’ll make the shower quick,” I said, and started for the far door.
“If it was him going into the shower,” Richard jerked a thumb at Jean-Claude, “I wouldn’t believe quick, but you I’ll believe.”
That one comment made me wonder how much time Richard had spent with Jean-Claude when I wasn’t around. I didn’t say it out loud, though, I am getting smarter. Richard was uncomfortable enough with Jean-Claude. I didn’t need to add to it.
“We will be here when you are finished, ma petite. Hopefully with the bed in better order.” He was standing looking down at it, as if he wasn’t sure it could really be fixed.
“Why not use your room?” Richard asked.
“Asher is in my bed. Now he is dead, andma petite finds that disturbing. If he woke in the middle of the feeding, I think you, Richard, would find it disturbing.”
Richard stood and just huddled in his jean jacket. “Disturbing. You could call it that.” He didn’t sound happy, and I wondered if there was some incident between him and Asher I should know about.
Probably not. None of my business.
I had to walk back to the bed and hunt for my holstered gun underneath the pillows. I sort of waved it at them both. “I wouldn’t want this thrown down the laundry chute.”
Jean-Claude waved me toward the bathroom. “Go, shower, ma petite, we will be ready if you are not too quick.”
“We” will be ready, he’d said. Didn’t I have enough “wes” in my life? I went for the shower and left them debating on whether the bed would hold, or whether it would be safer to simply remove the frame entirely. It wasn’t until I closed the door behind me that I thought to wonder why we needed the bed. Jean-Claude could feed on Richard kneeling on the floor, couldn’t he? If this was my first chance to touch both men at the same time in months, then I preferred not to be covered in drying goop. But once I was clean, we could still all do it on the floor. We didn’t need the bed.
I thought about going back out and telling them that, but didn’t.
No matter what else, they were both still men, and men feel better when they have something to do. They could straighten the bed and sheets and get everything all neat and tidy. It would keep them from having any more of those awkward silences. Or, that was the hope.
57
When I stepped out of the shower, my black robe was hanging on the back of the door. How had I not seen that, or heard it? If Jean-Claude could do that while I was in the shower, and me have no hint, then I was shielding too tight. In shielding this hard, I was losing some of my awareness of my surroundings. Not good.
I dried off, wrapped a towel around my hair, and put the robe on.
I’d have given a great deal for clean underwear, but hell, if I tied the sash tight and the little string tighter, the robe didn’t gap. I checked that nothing showed in the mirror but a little upper chest, very proper. I’d washed away all the makeup. I looked pale and clean, and, with my hair up in a pale blue towel, I looked sort of too pale, almost sickly. I started to take the towel down, because I knew I looked good in the robe with my hair down, wet, or not. But I resisted the urge. First, my hair was too wet, and silk doesn’t like being wet.
Second, I had only one boyfriend in the other room, not two. I wasn’t trying to look my best, just help Richard not have a fit about letting Jean-Claude touch him.
I looked at my face, my eyes so dark, and wondered if I could admit, even to myself, that I still cared that Richard thought I was attractive. Yeah, to myself, I could say it, but I left the towel on.
They were arguing about candles when I came out. Jean-Claude had had some brought in for the bedside tables, and Richard was saying, “We don’t need candles, Jean-Claude. You’re just feeding. That’s it.”
“I vote with Richard. We don’t need candles.”
“The two of you are not romantics.”
“This isn’t about romance, it’s about food,” I said.
Richard motioned to me. “See, Anita agrees with me.”
“Of course, she does, mon ami. ” Jean-Claude didn’t sound too put out, he still had that cat-who-ate-the-cream sound to his voice.
The mattress and box springs sat on the floor, covered in new, bloodred sheets. Even the pillowcases had been changed, so that the bed shimmered scarlet in the subdued light. The bed frame being gone probably explained why Richard had removed his jean jacket and was just in an olive green T-shirt.
“I had not realized how dark Jason’s room is,” Jean-Claude was saying. “I have no extra places to put lamps, but we could have more light with candles. I would prefer a romantic reason, but in truth, it is simple practicality. I would like more light.”
“You’re a vampire,” Richard said, “you see in the dark better than I do.”
“True, but if you were allowed to touch someone who rarely allows you to touch them in any intimate fashion, would you not wish light to see what you are doing?” He gave Richard a look, then his eyes slid past him to me. It was a quick look, but Richard followed it, and suddenly he didn’t seem to know what to do with his face, so he turned it back toward the other man.
“Have I missed something here?” I asked, “or am I about to miss something?”
“You miss very little, ma petite. ”
“Candles are fine,” Richard said, still not looking at me.
I was shaking my head, but I felt a small touch against my skin. I knew that touch. I dropped the tiniest edge of my shields.