Лорел Гамильтон: Rafael

But there was another reason not to take a hug from Rafael; he wasn’t one of the loves of my life. He was supposed to be powerful food for the ardeur and that was it, but because I didn’t know how to be regularly intimate with someone and not date them, the lines were getting blurry between us and I didn’t know how to handle it. If he was just my friend and sexual snack, was it fair to turn to him for emotional comfort? Where is the line between friend with benefits and boyfriend?

Because I didn’t have an answer, I let myself relax against Rafael’s body, let the strength of his arms wrap around me. Honestly with my back to the room with Kane in it I should have moved so I could see him coming, but with Rafael looking in that direction and Benito with us, if Kane tried anything, I was betting on us. Then I wondered, was I trying to bait Kane? I hoped not, because that would be childish and dangerous for both of us.

“I hear someone ranting in the weight room,” Benito said.

“It’s Kane,” I said, as Rafael said it with me. He hugged me tighter to his body and I slid my arms around his waist to find his back wet with sweat, and the chest where my cheek tried to nestle was a little damp, too. It made me pull back a little, laughing.

“I was working out, too,” he said, laughing with me.

“Let’s move toward the locker room,” Benito said. “I don’t want us in his sight line when he exits the room.”

Neither of us argued. We just put my arm around Rafael’s waist and his arm across my shoulders and let the bodyguard herd us away from the sound of raised voices. We’d been lovers long enough that we knew where all the arms and legs and noses went when we did most anything. I’d never been this physically comfortable with anyone that I wasn’t in love with before. It felt weird, because some part of me had still believed that this level of physical comfort was supposed to come only after the in-love part; that it could come just through being together often enough sort of bothered me.

Kane wasn’t shouting anymore, but then he couldn’t see me or any of the other people he was jealous of; once the object of his hatred was out of sight, he was better.

“He’s dangerous,” Benito said, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

“Agreed,” I said.

Rafael hugged me one-armed as we walked. “You need to have a guard with you at all times, Anita.”

“So I’m not the only one that thinks Kane’s jealous rages are getting scarier,” I said.

“They are getting worse,” Benito said.

“If he were not Asher’s hyena to call, I might urge something more permanent be done before Kane hurts someone I care about,” Rafael said, kissing the top of my head.

“I even agree with you. We wouldn’t even have to do anything but let Kane get all ragey at the wrong person and let nature take its course,” I said, “except if Kane dies, Asher may die with him.”

“It is admirable that Asher has taken his therapy so seriously, Anita, but he tied himself to Kane before the therapy,” Rafael said.

Benito said, “I do not approve of therapy or medication, but the change in Asher since he went on the meds is impressive.”

“I’m not a big believer in finding a happy pill either,” I said, “but seeing the difference in Asher, I might have to rethink that for certain things.”

“My understanding was that it is a biochemical imbalance,” Rafael said.

“Yeah, which means that Asher really couldn’t help some of what he was doing.”

“How do you feel about Jean-Claude having taken Asher back as his lover?” Rafael said, kissing the top of my head again.

“If you’re wanting to know if Jean-Claude has asked me to take Asher back, then we’ve talked about it. Nathaniel and I have talked about it, too.”

He turned us outside the locker rooms so he could see my face as he asked, “And how do you feel about Asher?”

I had to look away from those big brown eyes while I tried to sort out my feelings and how much I wanted to talk about them. “I miss him in some ways, but I’m a big believer that if you can’t handle someone at their worst, then you don’t deserve them at their best, and I can’t handle him at his worst.”

Rafael put his finger under my chin and gently raised my face so he could see my own brown eyes. His brown eyes and black hair were from his Mexican heritage just like mine. I had my German father’s pale skin, but the rest of me was my mother’s, so I was told, and so pictures showed me. She’d died when I was eight, so I didn’t remember that much of her, and what I did remember was filtered through the child I had been when she died, which meant I could never see that I looked like her without the pictures.

Rafael was like my parents—first generation born in this country. I was second generation. We both thought of ourselves as American, and most people didn’t even realize I had Hispanic heritage. I could pass, as they say, though I’d never been pale enough for my blond stepmother, but that was a sad racist story for another time.

I looked up into Rafael’s face, dark brown skin to match the hair and eyes. He couldn’t hide what he was, and I didn’t try to hide, I just didn’t think about it until something made me think about it. Planning the wedding with Jean-Claude had made me have to think more about my family; so far my father wasn’t going to walk me down the aisle, because I was marrying a vampire, which meant I was damning myself for all eternity in the eyes of the Catholic Church. My family were devout Catholics.

“So many serious thoughts going through your eyes,” he said.

I shook my head. “Nothing worth sharing.”

He gave me the look that all my semiserious people got eventually, the one that said they didn’t believe me when I said it was nothing. “It’s okay if you love Asher. I don’t see what any of you see in him, but I don’t have to, he’s not my boo.”

“He’s not my boo either,” I said, and wondered if I was protesting a bit too much.

Rafael gave me a look, as if he was wondering the same thing, which pissed me off and made me draw my face back, so I wasn’t resting on his hand.

Benito said, “If he is so unimportant to you, then why do you risk Rafael’s life because of the mess Asher has caused with the local werehyenas?”

“Benito, it is not your place . . .” Rafael started to say.

“If not mine, then whose, my king? It is my sworn duty to keep you safe, but I cannot fight your challenges for you. If Anita would make you her rat to call, you would gain enough power to win against any challenger.”

“Why did you get another challenger this soon?” I asked.

It was Rafael’s turn to look away from me, as if he wasn’t sure what I’d see in his eyes. I grabbed the tank top and used it to pull him toward me. “You just fought a duel out of town two weeks ago. You’re a good king, a great leader, why is this one challenging you again so soon?” I’d learned that any challenger for rulership among the wererats, the rodere, had to give a reason for it, and the reason had to make sense to enough of the wererats for them to vote on it. If a challenger had a bogus reason for the fight, then they could just vote that the reason wasn’t good enough to risk their king.

“Tell her, Rafael,” Benito said.

“I am king here, not you!” His anger brought his beast like a line of heat across my skin. I had to let go of him and step back so I could do a few deep, even breaths. I couldn’t change shape for real, but I still carried the beasts inside me, and one of those was rat.

“You are my king, but she needs to know what is happening.”

“One of you tell me, because it’s starting to make me nervous.”