Лорел Гамильтон - Danse Macabre

I nodded. «I know, and I will do my damn level best to hold my shit together, but I'm scared, and it's going to be stressful.»

«You need a lion. The new guy isn't going to be in human form in time for the appointment,» Remus said.

«Didn't someone mention that Joseph is bringing some of his lions by today so I can pick someone?»

Micah nodded.

«We need to call him, and see how early he can be here,» I said. I'd made myself finish the croissant, and one cup of coffee was gone. I took the lid off the second cup, and leaned back against the headboard. I had some food in me now, so I could allow myself to sip this cup without ruining it with food.

«I'll check.» He pulled a tiny folding cell phone from somewhere on his person, and stepped away from the bed to give us some privacy. It was illusionary privacy, because he would hear anything we said, but I appreciated the effort.

Micah was wearing a man's white dress shirt unbuttoned around the tan of his upper body. The sleeves were buttoned tight, but he wore it more like a jacket than a shirt. The jeans had started life black, but were now sort of gray. When he curled up on the bed beside me, his feet were bare. «You're dressed in clothes you wouldn't mind shifting in,» I said.

He nodded. He'd pulled his hair back in a ponytail, but missed a few curls, so they framed his face here and there. He looked very winsome, except for his eyes, which were way too serious for comfort.

«You think I'm going to have another» — I waffled my hand back and forth — «attack.»

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. «Let's just say, I'm prepared.»

I drank my coffee a little faster, because it was cooling. «Have I eaten enough?»

«No,» he said softly.

I hung my head. «My stomach feels like a hard knot today.»

«Either one more croissant, or a whole piece of fruit, or all the cheese.»

I finished the coffee, and reached for the bread. When you didn't want to eat, bread was less objectionable. I started nibbling at it.

«Jean-Claude needs to know about the appointment.»

«I know.»

«I could tell him.»

I frowned at him. «You don't trust me to do it.»

He sat up, raising his hands. «I will do whatever will make this easier for you, Anita, but he needs to know as soon as possible that you are going to take his human servant, his animal to call, and at least two or three blood donors with you this afternoon.»

I tossed the half-eaten croissant back on the tray. «If there is another way to do this, tell me, and I'll do it.»

«I didn't say that. All I said was that Jean-Claude needs to know.»

«Then go tell him,» I said, and the first flare of anger came.

He didn't give me hurt eyes, he gave me careful eyes. He tried to hold my hands, and I jerked away. «If you hold me, I'm going to fall apart.»

He pulled back. «No one would blame you if you fell apart.»

«I would.»

He sighed. «You always have to be so strong.»

I nodded. «Yeah, I do.»

He slipped off the bed to stand beside it, gazing at me. I didn't want him standing there looking scrumptious. I wanted to be angry, and I always had trouble being angry when he looked cute. Hell, I had trouble keeping any fight going with any of the men in my life; all they had to do was strip, and they usually won. It was true, and that pissed me off, too.

«Anger is a luxury, Anita.»

I screamed, full-throated, deep and loud. I screamed until it echoed off the walls. I screamed until the door opened and more guards poured in. I yelled at them, «Get out, get the fuck out!»

They turned in a black-shirted mass to Remus. He motioned them out, but he kept two of them, so I was back to four guards. I guess I couldn't blame him.

«Tell Jean-Claude, and send Requiem to me.» My voice sounded deeper, thicker.

«Anita…»

«If you comfort me, I'm going to lose it.» I looked up at him. «Please, Micah, please, just do what I ask.»

«I'll talk to Jean-Claude, but are you sure about Requiem?»

«You mean am I sure I want to feed the ardeur on him?»

He nodded.

«No, I'm absolutely sure I don't want to feed on him, but Jean-Claude and I talked. If I feed on Requiem and he's mind-fucked again, then I'm too dangerous for the other pomme de sang candidates. I need to feed on Requiem before Auggie rises for the day. Because, if I truly freed Requiem's mind from the ardeur , then we may be able to use the same technique to free Auggie of us.»

«A lot of ifs and maybes ,» he said.

«And maybe I can heal Requiem while I feed. I seem to heal during metaphysical sex, with or without intercourse, sometimes. Meng Die's little temper tantrum is not going to impress the visiting masters, and we can't hide it if he's as hurt as he is now.»

«You could feed off someone else, someone who's already one of your sweeties.»

«You mean, I don't need another shock for the day,» I said, and I started to laugh, but it ended in a sob that I bit my lip to keep inside. Panic was eating at me, eating holes in all my bones and organs, so that I was getting more and more fragile, and when I needed it most, there'd be nothing there to use; there'd be nothing but the fear.

I whispered, because I didn't trust my voice any louder. I was either going to start screaming again, or crying. I didn't want to do either. «Jean-Claude thinks Requiem's power can overcome my reluctance. I have to feed the ardeur , and I so don't want to. If Requiem's power can make me want him, then send him, because right now, I don't want anyone. I just want to be left the fuck alone.»

Anyone else would have looked hurt, but Micah didn't. He took it, with that quiet face. He said, quietly, «We all have a breaking point, Anita, all of us.»

I shook my head, over and over. «We can't afford for me to break today, Micah.»

He sighed. «Someday, I'd like for us to have a little time for you to be able to break down, if you wanted to.» I realized his eyes were glittering with unshed tears.

«Don't cry,» I said.

«Why not, one of us needs to.» He turned away, with the first tear shining down his cheek.

I grabbed for his arm, and crawled over the bed, and pulled him in against me. And just like I'd known I would, I lost it. I cried, and screamed, and clung to him, and hated myself for doing it. So weak, so fucking weak.

SOMEWHERE IN THE middle of breaking down, I realized there were other hands holding me besides Micah's. I pushed at the hands, half-fought, and half-clung, as if I couldn't decide whether I wanted not to be touched, or never to be let go. I heard a voice, a hysterical voice, saying, «Don't want to do this… can't do this. I can't do this.» I realized it was me, and even realizing it, I couldn't stop the babbling. «Can't do a baby, tests, don't want to do the ardeur anymore, no more, no more men, no more adding to my life.» The talking fell into sobbing, and finally even that stopped. In the end, I just lay in the curve of their arms, and was quiet. Too tired to move, too tired to protest. Because somehow in the midst of it all, Richard had ended up holding me. His body cradling me. I didn't feel anything about him holding me. Nothing, I felt nothing, and I was glad. I'd been feeling too much lately, too much.

«Her energy feels different,» he said, and his voice sounded farther away than it should have. He was tall, but I was only in his lap, not that far away.

Other hands touched my face, my hands, my arms. My eyes were closed and I kept them that way; I didn't want to see them. Didn't want to see any of them. «She is cold.» Jean-Claude's voice, his hand moving away from my cheek.

Cold, yes, I was cold, so cold. Cold down to the core of my being, as if I'd never be warm again. Fur brushed my arm, and it made me open my eyes enough to see Nathaniel kneeling on the bed. His face was still a stranger's face behind the mix of animal and human. Once, just once, that face had been above me while we made love. Just the one time.