Лорел Гамильтон - The Lunatic Cafe

"Nice to know I look like I feel," I said.

He touched my cheek, fingers sliding just over the skin, a ghost of a touch that made me shiver. He traced the edge of the scrape. It hurt and I jerked away. A spot of blood decorated his fingertips, gleaming in the dome light. I watched his eyes stare at the blood. I saw the thought trail behind his true brown eyes. He almost licked his fingers clean, as Rafael had done. He wiped his fingers on his coat, but I'd seen the hesitation. He knew I'd seen it.

"Anita. ."

The back door opened, and I whirled, going for the last knife I had on me. The world swam in waves of blackness and nausea. The movement had been too abrupt. Stephen the Werewolf stood in the half-open door staring at me. He was sort of frozen there, blue eyes wide. He was looking at the silver knife in my hand. The fact that I'd been blind and too sick to use it seemed to have escaped him. It might have been that I was kneeling, moving towards him. I'd been willing to strike blind as a bat, not considering that whoever it was had a right to be there.

"You didn't tell me you brought someone with you," I said.

"I should have mentioned that," Richard said.

I relaxed, easing back to kneel in the seat. "Yeah, you should have mentioned that." The knife gleamed in the dome light. It looked razor sharp and well tended. It was.

"I was just going to check on Louie," Stephen said. He sounded a little shaky. He had a black leather jacket with silver studding snapped tight around his throat. His long, curling blond hair fell forward over the jacket. He looked like an effeminate biker.

"Fine," I said.

Stephen looked past me to Richard. I felt more than saw Richard nod. "It's okay, Stephen." There was something in his voice that made me turn slowly to look at him.

He had a strange look on his face. "Maybe you are as dangerous as you pretend to be."

"I don't pretend, Richard."

He nodded. "Maybe you don't."

"Is that a problem?"

"As long as you don't shoot me, or my pack members, I guess not."

"I can't promise about your pack."

"They're mine to protect," he said.

"Then make sure they leave me the hell alone."

"Would you fight me over that?" he asked.

"Would you fight me?"

He smiled, but it wasn't happy. "I couldn't fight you, Anita. I could never hurt you."

"That's where we're different, Richard."

He leaned in as if to kiss me. Something on my face stopped him. "I believe you."

"Good," I said. I slipped the knife back in its sheath. I stared at his face while I did it. I didn't need to look to put the knife away. "Never underestimate me, Richard, and what I'm willing to do to stay alive. To keep others alive. I never want us to fight, not like that, but if you don't control your pack, then I will."

He moved away from me. His face looked almost angry. "Is that a threat?"

"It's out of control, and you know it. I can't promise not to hurt them unless you can guarantee that they'll behave. And you can't do that."

"No, I can't guarantee that." He didn't like saying it.

"Then don't ask me to promise not to hurt them."

"Can you at least try not to kill them, as a first option?"

I thought about that. "I don't know. Maybe."

"You can't just say, 'Yes, Richard, I won't kill your friends'?"

"It would be a lie."

He nodded. "I suppose so."

I heard the rustle of leather from the backseat as Stephen moved around. "Louie's out of it, but he'll be okay."

"How did you get him into the Jeep?" Richard asked.

I just stared at him.

He had the grace to look embarrassed. "You carried him. I knew that." He touched the cut on my forehead, gently. It still hurt. "Even with this, you carried him."

"It was either that or let the cops have him. What would have happened if they'd piled him into an ambulance and he'd started healing like that?"

"They'd have known what he was," Richard said.

Stephen was leaning on the back of the seat, chin resting on his forearms. He seemed to have forgotten that I'd nearly stabbed him, or maybe he was used to being threatened. Maybe. Up close his eyes were the startled blue of cornflowers. With his blond hair spitting around his face he looked like one of those china dolls that you buy in exclusive shops, that you never let children play with.

"I can take Louie to my place," he said.

"No," I said.

They both looked at me, surprised. I wasn't sure what to say, but I knew that Richard could not come with me to Guilty Pleasures. If I had any hope of keeping us all alive, Richard could not be on the spot when I broke the news.

"I thought I'd drive you home," Richard said, "or to the nearest hospital, whichever you need."

It would have been my preference to, but not tonight. "Louie's your best friend. I thought you might want to take care of him."

He was staring at me, lovely brown eyes narrowed into suspicious squints. "You're trying to get rid of me. Why?"

My head hurt. I couldn't think of a good lie. I didn't think he'd buy a bad one. "How much do you trust Stephen?"

The question seemed to throw him off balance. "I trust him."

His first reaction was to say yes, I trust him, but he hadn't thought about it first. "No, Richard, I mean do you trust him not to talk to Jean-Claude or Marcus?"

"I wouldn't tell Marcus anything you didn't want me to," Stephen said.

"And Jean-Claude?" I asked.

Stephen looked uncomfortable, but said, "If he asked a direct question, I'd have to give a direct answer."

"How can you owe more allegiance to the Master of the City than to your own pack leader?"

"I follow Richard, not Marcus."

I glanced at Richard. "A little palace revolt?"

"Raina wanted him in the movies. I stepped in and stopped it."

"Marcus must really hate you," I said.

"He fears me," Richard said.

"Even worse," I said.

Richard didn't say anything. He knew the situation better than I did, even if he wasn't willing to do the ultimate deeds.

"Fine, I'd planned to tell Jean-Claude that you proposed."

"You proposed," Stephen said. His voice held a lilt of surprise. "Did she say yes?"

Richard nodded.

A took of delight swept over Stephen's face. "Way to go," His face fell into sadness. It was like watching wind over a grassy field, everything visible on the surface. "Jean-Claude is going to go ape-shit."

"I couldn't have said it better myself."

"Then why tell him tonight?" Richard asked. "Why not wait? You're not sure about marrying me anymore. Are you?"

"No," I said. I hated saying it, but it was the truth. I loved him already, but if it went much further it would be too late. If I had any doubts I needed to work them out now. Staring into his face, smelling the warm scent of his aftershave, I wished I could have thrown caution to the wind. Falling into his arms. But I couldn't. I just couldn't, not unless I was sure.

"Then why tell him at all? Unless you're planning to elope and didn't tell me, we have some time."

I sighed. I told him why it had to be tonight. "You can't go with me."

"I won't let you go alone," he said.

"Richard, if you are Johnny-on-the-spot when he finds out, he'll try to kill you, and I'll try to kill him to protect you." I shook my head. "If the shit hits the fan, this could end up like Hamlet ."

"How like Hamlet ?" Stephen asked.

"Everybody dead," I said.

"Oh," he said.

"You'd kill Jean-Claude to protect me, even after what you saw last night?"

I stared at him. I tried to read behind his eyeballs to know if there was anybody home I could really talk to. He was still Richard. With his love of the outdoors, any activity that would get you messy, and a smile that warmed me to my toes. I wasn't sure I could marry him, but I was positive I couldn't let anybody kill him.