Danse Macabre

43



NOEL SMELLED OF fear. He smelled like food, but not food for the ardeur. He smelled like meat that just hadn't stopped squirming yet. I pushed him onto the floor, raised his shirt to his shoulders. I stared down at his bare chest and stomach. He was breathing so fast, so hard, that his stomach rose and fell with it. I lowered my mouth over that pale, soft flesh. I stopped with my face just above his skin, so close that my breath came back warm against me. With that warm breath, came his scent, stronger, richer. It made me close my eyes. But I was too far into beast mind for sight to help or hurt that much. It was all about the smell of him, the sound of his breathing, and his heartbeat. I laid my ear against his chest so I could hear that frantic beating, so clear, so wonderfully afraid. I put my hand on his stomach so I could ride the movement of it, as he breathed.



"Slow your breathing, Noel," Micah said, "or you're going to hyperventilate."



"I can't help it," Noel said, voice breathless, "she's not thinking about sex."



"If you act like food, then you're food," Travis said from behind us.



I lay there on the floor, my head over his heart, my hand on the quick rise and fall of his stomach. So soft, so... tender.



The thought slid my face down his body, until I rested at his sternum, the upper edge of his stomach. So close now that I could not so much see the fast rise and fall of his body as feel it under my cheek. I rolled my face over, and kissed his stomach.



He jerked, as if I'd bit him, and made a wonderful whimpering sound.



I buried my mouth in the soft, easy flesh of his belly. I took as much of his flesh into my mouth as I could hold, and not draw blood. I bit him, hard and deep, and it took all my willpower to rise up from that flesh, and leave it whole.



I pushed back from him, crab-walked until the wall stopped me. The sensation of all that warm, tender flesh filled my mouth. I could still feel it, a sensory memory that would haunt.



"Talk to me, Anita." Micah's calm voice.



I shook my head. "Food," I whispered, "just food."



"Noel is just food," Micah said.



I nodded, eyes still closed.



"Get up, Noel." Travis's voice, unhappy, angry.



"I'm sorry," Noel said.



I finally opened my eyes, to watch him drag his shirt back over his body. He wouldn't meet anyone's eyes, as if he'd failed.



"It's okay, Noel. Auggie and Pierce are right, Joseph shops for bottoms."



"He's not a bottom," Nathaniel said. "If he had been he'd have enjoyed the biting, and the danger. It might even have been enough to push you from food to sex." Nathaniel shrugged. "He's too straightlaced."



Once I would have argued.



"I would ask one favor," Travis said.



We looked at him.



"Can you come to me, instead of making me crawl to you?"



I remembered what I'd forgotten to ask, and asked it. "Is the broken arm the worst injury?"



"At least two cracked ribs, maybe a small break. Dr. Lillian said she'd need X-rays to be certain. No concussion, too hardheaded for it, I guess." He tried to smile and almost made it.



I crawled toward him. Micah moved so I could do it. Nathaniel crawled beside me. I glanced at him. "I don't think Travis will want company on this."



"I'm the only submissive you've collected. Everybody else is a dominant."



That stopped me, made me think about it. I actually sat back on my knees. "Damian isn't a master."



"No, but he's submissive because he doesn't have the power to be dominant. I'm submissive because I like it."



I frowned at him. "If you have a point, make it."



"Ask if the pride has anyone who swings more like I do."



I thought about all the men. Was Nathaniel right? Was everyone else a dominant personality, except for him? Richard, yep; Asher, yes; Jean-Claude, way yes; Micah, yes; Jason, no.



"Jason," I said.



"You rang?" and it was Jason coming into the hallway. His short blond hair was cut neat and tidy like a junior executive. The body would have qualified, if the executive worked out in the gym enough. He was about my height, short for a man, and boyishly handsome most of the time. But he glanced at Noel getting shakily to his feet, Travis with his obvious wounds, Nathaniel and I so close together and him so very nude. Jason took it all in, and his face changed. I could never put my finger on it, but he looked suddenly older, more grown-up, and his eyes, the color of spring skies, filled up with a knowledge, a weight of intelligence. He hid it most of the time, but there was a very nice mind in that smiling, very nice body.



The look vanished, replaced by his usual smart-ass, flirting look, but I knew him too well, now, to be fooled.



"Jason subs if he wants to, but he's a top at heart," Nathaniel said, smiling up at his friend. We were never going to marry, Nathaniel and I, but if we did, I knew who he'd pick for best man.



"Tell me what position you want me in," Jason said, "and I'm your man." He wiggled his eyebrows and gave me that grin. That grin that said he was thinking cheerful nefarious thoughts. Most people made sex dark, but not Jason. He was a cheerful lecher.



I had to smile. He just had that effect on me. Hell, he had that effect on most people. "Sorry, I'm shopping for lions today, not wolves."



"Actually, ma petite, I think we are trying to establish how you react around all your beasts, but lions for now."



"Looks like I got here just in time," Jason said.



"You're not the only wolf in the hallway," Graham said, sounding sullen.



Jason gave him a look that wasn't entirely friendly. You didn't see that from Jason much. "I suppose not." His tone was dark, almost angry. I wondered what had been happening between the two of them to get that level of animosity from Jason. He was one of the most easygoing people I knew.



"As far as I'm concerned," I said, "Jason is the only wolf in the hallway."



"Why is he the only wolf that you fuck besides Richard?" Graham asked.



Ah, now I knew why Graham was pissed. Had he tried to bully the smaller man? Probably. Graham had this backward idea that size and strength were more important than anything else.



"I don't know, but comments like that are what help keep you off the list," I said.



"Step back," Claudia said to him.



He scowled at her, muscled arms folding over his chest.



She took a small movement toward him. "Are you challenging me?" Her voice was flat and empty as she said it; it made the threat all the more ominous.



Graham shook his head, and backed up until he was against the wall. He sulked, but he did what she asked. I hoped he got a girlfriend soon, because his little tantrums were really beginning to bug me.



As if the thought had conjured her out of the dimness, Meng Die appeared farther down the corridor. It was the first time I'd seen her since she'd sliced Requiem up. I did not want her here while I tested my beasts.



She was one of the few women who ever made me think, delicate. She was tinier than I was, so fragile looking. Maybe that was why she almost always wore black leather, very dominatrix. The clothes suited her though, catlike, skintight, scary, and sexy all at the same time. Yeah, scary, sexy, that summed Meng Die up perfectly.



She slinked on black, high-heel boots toward Graham. It was as if Claudia had seen this show before, because she said, "He's working, Meng Die."



Meng Die made that delicate triangular face pout, but it never reached those uptilted eyes. She changed direction without so much as a regretful glance at Graham. And that, that was why Graham wasn't devoted to her. Why she'd almost broken Clay's heart. She'd wanted Graham, but if she couldn't have him, that was fine. No man likes to know, for certain, that it doesn't matter to a woman if he's the man in her arms or not. Come to that, a woman doesn't like it when a man treats her that way either. Okay, no one likes knowing that they're utterly replaceable. We all like to be special.



Meng Die slinked toward Requiem. He backed away from her. Jean-Claude said, "You are not to touch him again, Meng Die."



She looked at Jean-Claude. "Never again?"



"Not unless he wishes it."



She turned that lovely face to Requiem. "Do you truly wish never to touch this body again?" She made her hands flow over her curves as she said it.



Some of the men in the hallway followed her hands down her body. Auggie and his men did. Requiem didn't. Jean-Claude didn't. None of the wereleopards did. Jason did, though. The view was nice if you didn't know the mind that went with it.



Meng Die walked past me, and the leopards, and the lions, like we weren't there. She went for Jason. He had looked, and he wasn't on the forbidden list.



She entwined herself around him, head on his shoulder. Even in the heels, she was shorter. "Come play with me, Jason."



He laughed, and shook his head. "I've got a report to give." I had no idea what report he was talking about.



"Afterward?" She made it a question.



He smiled, but said, "No. Thanks, but no."



She ran her hand over the front of his jeans. Apparently, she wasn't feeling the least bit subtle today.



He grabbed her wrist, and said, "No."



She jerked away from him. "Why is it no? Because she's here?" She pointed at me.



I hadn't known that Jason and Meng Die had had sex. It must have shown on my face, because she said, "You didn't know?"



I shook my head.



"We had a lot of fun, until you fucked him. Until you fed the ardeur off him."



I stood up, and Micah and Nathaniel moved with me. "I didn't know he was your boyfriend," I said.



"Meng Die doesn't have boyfriends," Jason said, "just people she racks."



"And what's wrong with that?" she asked.



"Not wrong, just not my thing."



"You enjoyed it, Jason, I know you did."



"You're good at fucking," he said.



"So are you," and she made it a purr. Not a cat purr, but that alto, sultry sound that some women can make. I've never been able to do it.



Jason grinned at her. "But sometimes I prefer to make love, not just fuck. I couldn't explain the difference to you."



She frowned at him, the sultry look slipping around the edges. "Making love, it's all just pretty words for fucking."



I glanced at Jean-Claude. "You couldn't teach her the difference?"



He gave an elegant shrug. "Some lessons come too late. She was much abused by the time I found her."



"No," Meng Die said, "no, my story is not for her. I want no one's pity, least of all hers."



Jean-Claude gave that Gallic shrug again, that meant yes, no, everything, and nothing. "As you like," he said.



"You just fuck Anita, too." She'd turned back to Jason.



He smiled, but gentler this time. "Anita makes it impossible to just fuck her."



"What does that mean?" Meng Die asked.



"She was my friend, my good friend, before we ever had sex. You can't just fuck someone that's important to you. Because if you screw it up, you lose more than potential sex, you lose your friend. Her friendship was more important to me than the sex, so it had to be making love, not just racking."



"I don't understand you," she said.



Requiem's voice then. "Because sex is almost never casual for Anita, it makes sex with Anita almost never casual."



Meng Die shook her head. "I don't understand."



"I know you do not," he said, "and for that I am sorry."



"Don't pity me!" She shouted it.



I couldn't see any weapons on her, but the leather could have hidden surprises. Slender surprises, but blades can be amazingly easy to hide.



"I want to fuck, who will fuck me?" Her words hit the air like a stone, and smashed into a suddenly heavy silence.



She looked at the men one at a time. She went to Damian, but he backed up, shaking his head. "Why shake your head? She is your master, not your wife."



Damian actually looked a little embarrassed, as he said, "We fuck when we can't find anyone else."



Again, news to me.



"So, I am who you fuck if you can't find anyone else, really?" That purring contralto went from sounding sexy to sounding ominous.



"You've turned me down enough, Meng Die. When Graham, or Clay, or Requiem was available, you didn't even look at me. It stops being flattering to be last on a woman's list."



She looked at Auggie, and he just said, "We're doing business."



She turned to Noel. He backed away, as if she'd struck at him. "You scare me," he said.



"But Anita does not scare you?"



"She scares me less than you do."



Meng Die frowned at him. "Why?"



I didn't expect Noel to answer, but he did. "Anita may hurt me by accident, but I think you'd hurt me just to see me bleed." Damn perceptive for walking food.



I felt London coming down the hallway. Felt him in a way that I shouldn't have been able to feel him. He was seeking me, using his vampire powers to find his fix again. I looked up, and found him coming toward us, all dark and pale.



Meng Die's face brightened when she saw London. She practically skipped toward him. He glanced at her, but that was all. His eyes were set on me as if I were his north star and he were lost at sea without me. Shit.



She slid her small hand through the bend of his arm, their black-on-black clothing blending together nicely. "Come on, London, let's leave them to their business."



"Not right now," he said, and didn't look at her when he said it. He looked at me.



She stiffened, gazing slowly up at him, then followed where he was looking. She came to me, and started shaking her head. "No," she said, "not London. You think he's dark and morose."



"He is dark and morose," I said.



"But you fucked him anyway," she said.



I shrugged, and gave her the "sorry" face. I mean, what was I supposed to say?



"You don't even like him," she said.



"It was sort of an accident," I said.



"How do you accidentally have sex?"



It was a good question. I did not have a good answer.



London walked away from her. He never looked at her as he glided toward me.



I watched her face pale with anger. Her hand slid to the small of her back, and I knew she had a weapon. I took a breath to say something, but Claudia and Lisandro were ahead of me. The guns under their arms just seemed to magically appear in their hands. Claudia's gun touched Meng Die's shining black hair. Lisandro's hand was hidden by Meng Die's slender back.



Claudia said one word. "Don't."



Everyone on our side of the hallway moved closer to us. Everyone behind Meng Die moved farther down the hallway. Everyone except the bodyguards, that is. The bodyguards on Pierce and Octavius started to join them, but I shook my head. They stayed at their posts. We had four guards on Meng Die, two of them with guns plastered to her. Two extra guards wouldn't make a difference on her, but it might on Auggie and his crew.



It was one of those moments when the world seems to hold its breath. Because the next breath may be someone's last.



"Do not die this way." Jean-Claude said it in a voice that shivered down the skin. But he was directing that voice at her, especially for her. I knew what it was like to be the target of that voice.



The tension left her shoulders. Her eyes were unfocused for a second. Lisandro used that second to take the knife out of her hand. Meng Die reacted to it, but too late.



She started to turn as if she meant to go for her blade, but Claudia pressed the gun barrel hard into the side of her head. Meng Die, wisely, chose to stop moving.



"Check her," Claudia said.



Lisandro holstered his gun and frisked Meng Die. He did it quickly, efficiently, and very, very thoroughly. "There are rivets and ridges throughout the leather. They could hide a few things. Do you want me to rip the leather open?" He asked it as if it were an everyday question.



"Your word of honor that you are not carrying anything else?" Claudia said.



Meng Die hesitated, then finally said, "There was just the one knife. This outfit doesn't leave much room for hiding weapons."



Claudia's eyes flicked to Jean-Claude. "It's your call, Jean-Claude, do we back up, or do we finish it?"



"Will you behave yourself, Meng Die?" he asked, and this time in as normal a voice as he could manage.



She gave him a look of such hatred that she didn't look quite sane. "I will not try to kill anyone tonight." Not exactly a rousing yes, but Jean-Claude nodded.



Claudia hesitated, then stepped back and lowered her gun. She didn't holster it, though. I couldn't say I blamed her.



London went to one knee in front of me, head bowed. It was a gesture that should have had a cloak and a plumed hat with it, so old-fashioned. "I am able to serve my lady again, if she has need."



It took me a second or two to work out what he meant. "You mean feed the ardeur again?"



He looked up. "Yes."



I looked down into that so-serious face. "You know if you act as food for the ardeur too often, it can be fatal?"



"Yes, but I can feed the ardeur every two hours or so in a twenty-four-hour period without ill effect."



I stared at him. "You're joking, right?"



"Why would I joke about such a thing?"



"I don't know, but... London, even the strongest, most powerful person I feed on can only feed twice in a row with a break of at least six hours between."



"It is my gift, Anita," he said.



"London is the perfect food for the ardeur. He can truly feed every few hours day after day, to no ill effect. In fact, Belle Morte said he seemed to gain power from it," Jean-Claude said.



"I'm scrambling to figure out how to feed and control this thing, and we have someone who is made to take care of it, and you didn't mention it to me sooner?"



"And if I had?" he said, simply.



I opened my mouth to protest, then closed it. If he had, what would I have done? "I'd have accused you of trying to set me up with London."



"Since he did not wish to be captured by the ardeur again, I thought it wisest not to mention his talent. To raise the possibility of it would be, I felt, a betrayal of his trust. For it would raise the issue of his being food for the ardeur. He was most adamant against it, ma petite."



"What's the downside to being able to feed the ardeur like this?" I asked, looking back at the vampire kneeling at my feet.



"Everyone is eventually addicted to the ardeur, but for me, the addiction is immediate."



"You're addicted again?" I said.



"Yes." His eyes were so peaceful, more peaceful than I'd ever seen them. He looked happier and more at home in his own skin than ever before. I looked up, and it was Nathaniel's gaze that I caught. He looked solemn, eyes not peaceful at all.



"You always look happy at the beginning of an addiction," Nathaniel said.



"What happens later?" I asked.



"You die."