"Why is he waiting for the full moon?"
"Because I told him I'd kill him if he didn't."
"You can't undercut Richard's authority like that."
"I don't need to, Jason, he's doing such a good job all on his own."
We were at the bottom of the stairs, the heavy door hanging open where Jean-Claude had rushed through. "Richard is my Ulfric."
"I'm not asking you to bad-mouth him, Jason. He's destroyed his power structure within the pack. It's not something to debate, it's just the truth."
Jason stopped me at the door. "Maybe if you had been here, you could have talked him out of it."
I was finally angry. "One, you have no right to question what I do, or don't do. Two, Richard is a big boy and makes his own decisions. Three, don't you ever, ever question me again."
"You're not my lupa anymore, Anita."
Anger flared through me like a scalding wave, tightening my shoulders, my arms, spilling into my hands. I'd never felt rage so quickly and so completely. I had to close my eyes to concentrate, so I wouldn't take a swing at him. What was wrong with me?
I felt Nathaniel at my back. "Are you alright?" he said.
I shook my head. "I don't think so."
"Look," Jason said, "I'm sorry, but I don't want Jacob in charge of the pack--I don't trust him. Richard may be a bleeding-heart, flag-waving right-winger, but he's also fair, and he really does try to put the best interests of the pack before his own. I don't want to lose that."
I looked at him, trying to swallow past the anger. My voice came out squeezed tight. "You're scared about what will happen to all of you if Jacob takes over."
He nodded. "Yes."
"Me, too," I said.
He looked into my face, studied it. "If Jacob kills Richard in a fair fight, what will you do?"
"Richard isn't my boyfriend anymore, and I'm not lupa. If it's a fair challenge fight, then I can't interfere. I told Jacob if the fight was fair, and after the full moon, I wouldn't take revenge on him."
"You won't avenge Richard's death?"
"If I kill Jacob, and Richard and Sylvie are already dead, who'll take over? I've seen what happens to a group of shapeshifters who don't have an alpha to lead them. I won't let what happened to the leopards happen to the wolves."
"If Jacob died before he fought Sylvie, then you wouldn't have to worry about it," Jason said.
The anger that had been leaking away made a comeback. "You can't have it both ways, Jason. Either I'm not your lupa--not dominant to you--and thus can't help you fix this, or I am still your lupa, still dominant to you, still someone you come to for this kind of help. Make up your mind which you want me to be before you get up in my face again."
"You can't be lupa, the pack voted you out. But you're right, it's not your fault. You had to try and fix yourself before you could fix anyone else. I'm sorry I got in your face."
"Apology accepted," I said. I started to go around him through the door, but he caught my arm.
"I didn't ask you to kill Jacob because you were my lupa, or dominant to me. I asked you because I know you've already thought of it. I asked you because I know if you think it's best for the pack, you'll do it."
"Pack business is no longer my concern, so everyone keeps telling me."
"They don't know you like I do," he said.
I pulled away from him, gently. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that once you've given your friendship--your protection--to someone, you take care of them, even if they don't want you to."
"If I kill Jacob, Richard will never forgive me."
"He dumped you, right? What have you got to lose by killing Jacob? Nothing. But if you don't kill him, then you lose Sylvie and Richard."
I pushed past him. "I am getting really tired of doing everyone's dirty work."
"No one is better at dirty work than you are, Anita."
That stopped me, made me turn back around to face him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It doesn't mean anything. It's just the truth." I stared into his so-solemn eyes. I would have liked to argue, but I really couldn't.
I'd thought I couldn't feel worse about myself tonight. I'd been wrong. Watching the look in Jason's eyes, hearing him talk about me like that, made me feel worse. This night just couldn't get any more depressing.
14
DAWN WAS MINUTES away when Jean-Claude came through the door in a robe. "You may have the bed, ma petite, and I will take my coffin. I think your nerves are raw enough without me dying in your arms as the sun rises."
I'd have liked to argue, because I wanted him to hold me in the worst way, but he was right. I'd had enough shocks for one night. "Nathaniel will stay with me," I said.
A look passed over Jean-Claude's face. "And Jason, as well."
"Why?"
"I do not have the time to explain, ma petite, but please trust me that Jason should be here, too. It is for the best."
I could feel dawn trembling close, even so deep underground. "Okay, Jason can stay, too."
Jean-Claude was already edging out the door. "I will tell him on my way to the coffin room. I am sorry to leave you like this, ma petite."
"Go, it's almost dawn," I said.
He blew me a kiss then was gone, leaving the door slightly ajar. Nathaniel was sitting on the corner of the bed, neutral in face, eyes, even body language. He was very good at seeming nonthreatening, soothing almost.
I'd been sleeping off and on for almost four days, yet I was tired, unbelievably tired. I wasn't sure it was physical, more like I'd overused my mind, my emotions. I was wrung out. "Let's get some sleep."
He pulled off his tank top without another word, kicked off his shoes, pulled off his socks, and began to unbraid his hair. I knew that would take a while, so I went into the bathroom while he finished. It had been a long time since I'd seen Jean-Claude's bathroom, with its fancy black tub that was big enough for a small orgy. The silver swan that the water came out of always reminded me of a fountain. But no bath tonight. I just wanted to sleep and to forget. Forget everything.
Of course, I hadn't come away with jammies, and the shirt that Nathaniel had picked for me, though attractive and comfortable, was not long enough to be a sleep shirt. I could not sleep in jeans; it just wasn't comfortable. Damn, why should the small things be so important on a night when all the big things had gone to hell?
There was a knock on the bathroom door. "I'll be out in a minute, Nathaniel."
"It's Jason."
"What do you want?"
"Didn't Jean-Claude tell you that I was bunking with you tonight?"
"He mentioned it."
"He also sent me with pajamas for you. He figured you didn't pack an overnight case."
That got me to the door, and opening it. Jason stood there in a pair of blue silk boxers, baggy enough to be acceptable as sleepwear. Acceptable for him to wear while sharing a bed with me, I might add. Jason, left to his own devices, wore men's bikini underwear--or less--to bed.
He held out a folded piece of red satin. I took it and let it spill through my hands. It was actually two pieces, a loose top with spaghetti straps and a pair of shorts. It was obviously meant to be lingerie.
"He said to tell you that, of anything he had that would fit you, it covered the most, end quote," Jason said.
I sighed. "Thanks, Jason, I'll be right out." I closed the door without waiting for a reply. The top that had looked loose actually clung pretty tightly across my breasts. You'd certainly know whether I was cold or not. The shorts were cut so high on the sides that the legs almost met the waistband. It managed to cover everything and still not leave much to the imagination. Lingerie design at its best, I suppose.