Narcissus in Chains

Chapter 21



RAFAEL THE RAT king had a black limo. He'd never struck me as a limo kind of guy, and I said as much. He said, "Marcus and Raina used to put on quite a show for things like this. I and my rats are not willing to make a spectacle of ourselves, so the limo."



"Hey, I wore makeup," I said. That had made him smile.



We were riding in the back of the limo, with one of his wererats driving. Merle and Zane were in the front with the driver. Merle, because he'd objected to us all being split up among people he didn't know, and Zane, because I just didn't completely trust Merle yet. Though I had no illusions about which of them would win the fight, if it came to that. Richard had a werewolf or two that I would have bet on against Merle, but there was something downright scary about Micah's head bodyguard, a "something" that all of my leopards lacked. Not ruthlessness, more an ultimate practicality. You just knew Merle would do whatever needed to be done, no hesitation, no sympathy, just business. When that's pretty much how you operate yourself, you begin to recognize it in other people, and you watch them closely.



All the leaders got to ride in the back of the limo, which smacked of elitism to me, but it did allow us all to talk together, and no one else seemed to have a problem with it. I wasn't sure why it bugged me, but it did.



Rafael was tall, dark, handsome, and strongly Mexican. He spoke with no trace of an accent, or rather he sounded like he was from Missouri. He sat facing us. Yes, us. Micah and I sat across from him. We were not holding hands. We were not casting longing glances at each other. In fact, strangely once I was away from the other leopards, I was uncomfortable around him Maybe it was my usual discomfort that always set in after intimacy. But I wasn't sure, it felt different. Or maybe it was the closer we got to seeing Richard, the more I wondered what the hell I was doing. Was I really going to tell Richard that I'd taken a lover, another shapeshifter? We'd broken up before and gotten back together, but if Richard thought I'd taken a permanent lover besides Jean-Claude, it was over. I didn't want it to be over, though part of me wasn't at all sure that dating Richard was healthy for either of us. We weren't really good for each other. Love is like that sometimes.



I pushed away serious thoughts and looked at the last member of our little party. Donovan Reece was the new swan king in town. He was about six feet tall, though it was hard to tell exactly while he was sitting down. His skin was that flawless milk and cream complexion that the beauty aids promise when tan is out for a year or two, but Donovan's was the real deal. He was whiter than I was, as white as Jean-Claude, but there was a slight pink flush to Donovan's cheeks, like perfectly applied blush. You could almost see the blood flowing under his skin, as if it were nearly translucent. He not only looked alive, but very alive, as if he'd be hot to the touch.



His eyes were a pale blue-gray that shifted with his moods like a summer sky that couldn't make up its mind whether it wanted to be peaceful with fluffy white clouds or rain all over your head. He was handsome in a clean-cut, preppy sort of way, as if he should have been on a college campus somewhere pledging to a frat and chugging beers. Instead he was going with us into a gathering of werewolves where he would be the only nonpredator there. That didn't sound like a good idea to me.



"You saved my swanmanes, Ms. Blake. You nearly got yourself killed doing it. I couldn't risk the girls coming, they are not ..." He looked down at his folded hands, then raised those changeable eyes to me. "They are like your Nathaniel--victims."



"Nathaniel is driving my Jeep with the rest of my people in it," I said.



Reece nodded. "Yes, but the shape of his beast is a predator. My girls are not. If they lost control and changed during the meeting, they would be meat."



"I agree with you, Mr. Reece, but doesn't the same logic apply to you?"



"I am a swan king, Ms. Blake, I will not change shape unless I will it so."



Will it so. I'd never heard anyone put it quite that way. Donovan Reece had a bad case of arrogance. I wasn't going to talk him out of this. Rafael had been trying to before I arrived. Micah never offered. He'd been very good about letting me do all the talking. I liked that in a man.



"Can you fight?" I asked.



"I will not be a burden, Ms. Blake, don't worry."



I was worried, because I could smell the blood just under his skin. I could almost see it flowing under his flesh. He smelled like meat and blood, and heat. He smelled like food. I'd been around shapeshifters that were prey animals, but I'd never realized you could tell by smell what wasn't a predator. I knew by the gentle scent of him that Reece's beast was something soft and easily killed. Something that would struggle but not hurt me. I had to swallow hard, trying to slow my pulse, but it would not slow. I wanted to drop on my knees in front of him and sniff his skin, rub my face against his bare arms until the short sleeves of his button-up shirt stopped me. A white undershirt peeked out the top of the blue and white striped shirt. I wanted to rip the shirt open, send the buttons popping through the air, take a knife from my wrist sheath and slit the undershirt, bare his naked chest and stomach. But it wasn't the ardeur, it wasn't sex I was thinking about. I wanted to see his stomach bare, to feel the soft tissue under my mouth, my teeth, to bite into ...



I covered my eyes with my hands, and shook my head. What was wrong with me?



Micah touched my arm, gently. "Anita, what's wrong?"



I lowered my hands and looked at him. "He smells like food."



Micah nodded. "Yes."



I shook my head again. "You don't understand what I'm thinking. It's ... frightening." I couldn't say it out loud. I wanted to feed on him, or at least sink my teeth into his flesh. I think I could keep from actually feeding, but the urge to mark that flawless skin was so strong that I almost didn't trust myself.



"When you told me why you marked Nathaniel I knew it was the hunger." Micah said the last word like it should have been in capital letters. "It usually takes a few days, or weeks, before your first full moon, to have the hunger become a problem. It's okay to have thoughts, images in your head about feeding. It's normal."



"Normal." I laughed, but it was a harsh sound. "What I'm thinking isn't even close to normal." Again I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud.



"What do you want to do to Reece?" Rafael asked.



I looked across the seat at him. I opened my mouth to say, then glanced at Reece and stopped. "No, it's like telling a sexual fantasy in front of the stranger you just had the fantasy about. It feels that intimate."



"It is that intimate," Rafael said.



I looked back at him, and his dark eyes held my gaze. "If you tell Mr. Reece what you're wanting to do to him, then maybe he'll fly home."



"A rat is a prey animal, too," Reece said.



"Everything that is smaller is a prey animal," Rafael said, "but rats are omniverous. They eat anything that crosses their path, including humans, if they can't get away. A wererat is not a small thing, Mr. Reece, we are large enough to be the predators that our namesakes cannot be."



Reece was scowling at us all now. He shook his head angrily and leaned forward and shoved his wrist into my face. "Get a good whiff, all of you seem to like it."



"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," Rafael said.



"Listen to him, Reece," Micah said.



I didn't say anything because the scent of his flesh so close was intoxicating. It was like the most exotic perfume spread across silk sheets, with an undertone of fresh baked bread and some sweet jelly spread over flesh. I had no word for it, but it smelled better than anything I'd ever smelled in my life.



I was holding his wrist, pressing the thin skin against my lips, before I realized what I was doing. The skin was so tender, and I could smell the blood under that paper-thin layer of skin. I wanted to do more than smell it. I wanted to taste it, to feel his flesh give under my teeth, to have the blood gush warm in my mouth, to ... I jerked away from him and crawled across Micah, across the seat to huddle in the far corner as far away from the swan king as I could get and not jump out the door.



There must have been something on my face, in my eyes that scared him because his eyes widened, his full mouth opened slightly. "My God, your control really is that bad."



I managed to say, "Sorry."



"Do you really want to put yourself in the midst of hundreds of us?" Rafael asked.



"I won't be bluffed," Reece said. "You won't hurt me. From everything I've heard about Anita, and you, Rafael, you're the good guys." His gaze flicked to Micah. "Him, I don't know, but I do know that the swans have never thrown their allegiance to anyone. We've been autonomous. The fact that I'm supporting Anita and her pard will mean something to the wolves. We are weak as battle allies, but that any animal other than her own would ally with her pard will mean something to their Ulfric."



I huddled on the far corner of the seat, arms hugging my legs to my chest, a position not really meant to be performed while wearing a shoulder holster. But I was literally holding on to myself, hugging my control and my body. How was I ever going to get through tonight without doing something embarrassing, or deadly? How much worse was my control going to get?



"Your last swan king answered to their now-deceased lupa," Rafael said.



"So I've heard. Though technically he was a swan prince, not a king. I don't know what he owed the old lupa, but I'd guess it was something blackmailable, because I've found some Polaroids that would make you blush."



I had to clear my throat twice before I could talk. "Kaspar refused to be in Raina's dirty movies, but the price for that was that he helped audition people for the films."



Reece looked at me. "Audition, what do you mean?"



I huddled and talked, but I was talking over the pulse in my head, the rush of blood in my body. I wanted to be next to Reece. I wanted to take a bite. Instead, I talked. "Kaspar could change form from swan to man at will. Raina used him to see if non-shapeshifters freaked when he changed in the middle of sex."



I felt Micah's reaction even from a distance. Reece looked horrified. "You saw this?"



"No, but Raina took great delight in telling me about it in detail. She tried to get me to watch one of his auditions, but I had better things to do."



"He did this willingly?" Reece asked.



"No," I said. "It was most definitely not his choice. He seemed to hate it."



"We see the fact that we can change forms at will as a great gift. We're one of the few shapeshifters that can do it with ease."



"Is that because your gift is either a curse or a born talent, rather than a disease?"



"We think so," he said.



"Kaspar was under a curse," I said.



"Are you wondering about me?"



Actually I was watching the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he talked, and wondering what it would feel like to fix teeth in his throat, but that was probably a fact best kept to myself. I kept talking, but I think both Micah and Rafael knew how ragged my control was. I hugged myself and kept talking, because silence filled with awful images, terrible desires.



"Yeah, I'm wondering," I said.



"I was born a swan king."



"You were born a swan king, not a swanmane. Does that mean you're male? Is swanmane only used for women?"



He looked at me, studying my face. "I was born to be their king. I'm the first king in over a century."



"Everybody else is chosen to lead, or fights for the right, but you make it sound like a hereditary monarchy," I said.



"It is, but it's not bloodlines that makes the difference, though being a swanmane either runs in your family or it doesn't. But I didn't inherit the title."



"Then how did you know?" I asked.



His eyes had gotten dark, dark gray like storm clouds. "The answer to that is somewhat intimate."



"I'm sorry, I didn't know."



"I'll give you the answer you seek, if you answer a rather delicate question for me."



We stared at each other. My heart rate was almost normal again. I could look at him without smelling the blood under his skin. Talking, listening, doing somewhat normal things had helped. I was a person, with speech and higher functions, not an animal. I could do this. Really. I eased out of my little ball, slowly.



"Ask and I'll let you know," I said.



"Did you kill Kaspar Gunderson, the last swan king?"



I blinked at him. That was unexpected. The sheer surprise made my pulse rate speed up a touch. "No, no, I didn't."



"Do you know who did?"



I blinked at him again. I wondered if I could lie and if he would be able to tell, or not. I finally stuck to the truth. "Yes."



"Who?"



I shook my head. "That I won't answer."



"Why not?"



"Because I would have killed Kaspar myself if he hadn't gotten away."



"I know he was responsible for several deaths, and that he tried to kill you and some of your friends," Reece said.



"It was a little more diabolical than that," I said. "He was taking money from hunters and supplying them with shifters."



Reece nodded. "He also made the swanmanes in his care into victims. I think that's what he and the old lupa shared--sexual sadism."



"That's why your girls, as you put it, were at the club with Nathaniel."



"Yes, I don't play those sorts of games, and they've grown to crave it."



I nodded. "I sympathize," I said.



"You've answered my questions truthfully, I can do no less." He started unbuttoning his shirt.



I looked at Micah, who shrugged. I looked at Rafael, who shook his head. Nice that none of us knew why he was undressing.



He left the overshirt tucked in but started pulling the undershirt out of his pants. He was about to bare his soft underbelly, and I wasn't a hundred percent sure my control was up to seeing it. My pulse was in my throat again. Since apparently neither of the men was going to ask, I asked, "Why are you undressing?"



"To show you the symbol of my kingship."



I stared at him. "Excuse me?"



Reece frowned at me. "Don't worry, Ms. Blake, I'm not about to flash you."



"I'm not worried about you flashing me, Reece, it's that ..." but I never finished, because he'd bared the white, white skin of his stomach. In the darkened car I could still see the pulse just behind his belly button. Hell, I could almost taste it in my mouth, as if I'd already sunk teeth into that tender flesh, as if I was already eating my way through to more vital things. Something was odd about the hair on his chest. It was almost too fine, too thin, too delicate, running in a dainty white line down the center of his chest and spreading in an upside down triangle around his belly button then down into his pants.



I was on the floorboard crawling towards him, and I didn't remember getting there. I stopped, pressed against Micah's legs. "I don't remember leaving my seat. I'm losing time."



Micah put his hands on my shoulders. "It happens when your beast controls you, at first. The first few full moons will be almost complete blackouts, until you can begin to access the memories, and that will take work."



Reece had leaned back across the seat, half-reclining, and started to undo his belt.



This close I could see, or thought I saw what was wrong with the hair on his chest and stomach. I tried to move forward, but Micah held me, hands tightening on my shoulders. I stretched out my hand and could brush fingertips over Reece's stomach. The light touch of my fingers over his skin made him stop fussing with his belt, made him look at me.



It wasn't hair. "Feathers," I said, softly, "like the down on a baby chicken, so soft." I wanted to run my hands over the surprising texture of it, to roll my body across the feathers and the heat of his skin. I could hear his heart in his chest pounding, and when I looked up, I met his gaze. His pulse was in his neck, like a trapped thing, and I could taste his fear. That one touch of my hand, the soft, dreamy quality of my voice had frightened him.



Micah's arms wrapped around my neck and shoulders and drew me in against his body with his legs on either side of me. He leaned over me, his face pressed to mine, and said, "Ssshhh, Anita, ssshhh." But it was more than a soothing voice. I could feel his beast calling to mine, as if he'd rolled his hand through my body, but so much larger. And that touch made my body tighten, grow wet. It brought my own pulse into my throat.



"What did you do?" I sounded breathless.



"The hunger can be turned to sex," Micah said.



"I wasn't going to feed," I said.



"Your skin went hot. Our bodies spike a temperature just before we change, like a human before a seizure."



I turned, still held in his arms, half-pinned between his knees. "You thought I was going to change?"



"It usually takes weeks, or at least the first full moon, for the first shape change. But you seem to be gaining problems faster than normal. If you changed for the first time here, I don't think either Rafael or I would be able to keep you from tearing Reece up."



"The first change is very violent," Rafael said, "and even the backseat of a limo doesn't have much room to hide or to run in."



Reece looked at me from only inches away, held in Micah's arms, his body, and I knew that it wasn't romantic. He was holding on in case the sex as distraction didn't work. "She's been Nimir-Ra for over a year," Reece said.



"But still human, until recently," Rafael said.



Reece stared at me for a second or two, then said, "Very well, I have a birthmark in the shape of a swan. My family knew from my birth what I was meant to be."



"I've heard of such things," Micah said, "but I thought it was legend."



Reece shook his head. "It's very true." He sat back in his seat, tucking his undershirt down in front.



"Kaspar had feathers instead of hair on his head," I said.



"I'm told that if I live long enough that gradually that will happen to me." There was something in his voice that said he wasn't looking forward to the prospect.



"You don't sound happy," I said.



He frowned at me, rebuttoning his shirt. "You were human once, Ms. Blake, I've never been human. I was born a swan king. I was raised to take my place as their king from my earliest memories. You have no idea what that's like. I insisted on going to college, on getting a degree, but I may never get to use it, because going from place to place caring for the other swans keeps me very busy."



I stayed in the circle of Micah's body, but the tension was draining away, "I saw my first soul when I was ten, and my first ghost earlier than that, Reece. At thirteen I accidentally raised my dog that had died. I've never been human Reece, trust me on that."



"You sound bitter about it," he said.



I nodded. "Oh, yeah."



"You must both accept who and what you are, or you will make yourselves miserable," Rafael said.



We both looked at him, and I don't think either look was friendly. "Give me a week or two to come to terms with being a kitty cat," I said.



"I am not referring to you being Nimir-Ra for real," Rafael said. "From the moment I met you, Anita, you have half hated what you are. As Richard has run from his beast, so you have run from your own gifts."



"I don't need a philosophy lesson, Rafael."



"I think you do, and badly, but I'll let that go, if it bothers you so very much."



"Don't even start on me," Reece said. "I've had people preach to me all my life that I'm blessed and not cursed. If my entire family couldn't convince me of it, you might as well not even try."



Rafael shrugged, then turned back to me. "Let's pick a different topic, because we are only minutes away from the lupanar, and I saw Micah's beast-- his energy--pass through you, and your beast responded."



"You saw it?" I asked.



He nodded. "His energy is very blue, and yours is very red, and they mingled."



"So you got what, purple?" I said.



Micah hugged me a little tighter, a warning I think not to be flippant, but Rafael was more direct. "No jokes, Anita, if I saw it, so will Richard."



"He's my Nimir-Raj," I said.



"You don't understand, Anita. Micah said he thought birthmarks in the shape of your beast was legend. Well, until just now, I believed talk of a perfect mate was legend. Like true fated love, just a romantic story." Rafael's already serious face got even more solemn. "You recognize some bond from the beginning, so the stories go, but it's only after you have sex for the first time that your beasts can roll through each other's bodies. Only physical intimacy will allow such metaphysical intimacy."



I glanced down from those hard, demanding eyes, but finally made myself look back up. "What are you asking, Rafael?"



"Not really asking, telling. Telling you that I know you had sex with Micah, and that, even though Richard has dumped you and publicly declared that you and he are no longer a couple, he won't like it."



That was an understatement. I pulled away from Micah, and he let me go, no lingering touches. I moved away, and he allowed it. It earned him brownie points. "Richard dumped me, Rafael, not the other way around. He doesn't have any right to bitch about what I do."



"If he dumped her, then she's free to do what she wants," Reece said. "The Ulfric has only himself to blame."



"Logically, you're right, but when has logic dictated how a man acts when he sees the love of his life in someone else's arms?" The bitter way Rafael said it made me look at him, study his face. He sounded like he was speaking from experience.



"As Ulfric to my Nimir-Ra, he has no authority over me."



"Tonight is going to be dangerous enough, Anita. You don't need to make Richard angry."



"I don't want to make things worse. God knows they're bad enough as they are."



"You're angry with him for dumping you," Rafael said.



I started to say no, then realized he might be right. "Maybe."



"You want to hurt him."



I started to say no, then stopped and tried to think--really think--about how I felt. I was angry and hurt that he could just cast me aside. Okay, it hadn't been that simple, but still ... "Yeah, I'm hurt, and maybe a part of me wants to punish Richard for that, but it's not just him dumping me. It's the mess he's made of the pack. He's endangered people I care about, and he's doing his usual Boy Scout shit that doesn't even work well in the human world, let alone with a bunch of werewolves. I'm tired, Rafael, I'm tired of it, and him."



"It sounds like you might have dumped him if he hadn't beat you to it."



"I came back to make it work. To see if we could make some sense of it all. But he has to give up that moral code of his that has never worked for him or anyone around him."



"To give up his moral code is to give up being who he is."



I nodded. "I know." And just saying that made me feel worse. "He can't change, and staying who he is is going to get him killed."



"And maybe you and Jean-Claude with him," Rafael said.



"Does everyone know that part?"



"It's standard that if you kill a vampire's human servant, the vampire may not survive the death. And if you kill a vampire, their human servants either die or go crazy. Logic dictates that killing either of you endangers the other."



I still didn't like that everyone knew that to kill one of us might kill all of us. Made it too damn easy for assassins. "What do you want me to say, Rafael? That Richard and I have a fundamental difference of philosophy in nearly every important area? There's more than one reason we didn't get married and live happily ever after. That maybe he's going to have to choose between survival or his morals? That I'm afraid he'd almost rather die than compromise those morals? Yeah, I'm afraid. It's going to kill a little piece of him to see me with Micah. I'd spare him if I could, but I didn't choose any of this."



"You take no blame in this," Rafael said.



I sighed. "If I hadn't left for six months maybe I could have talked him out of the democracy with his pack. Maybe if I'd been here a lot of things would be different, but I wasn't here, and I can't change that. All I can do is try fix what got broke."



"You think you can fix this, all of it?" Rafael asked.



I shrugged. "Ask me again after I've met Jacob and seen how Richard deals as Ulfric with all of them. I need a feel for the dynamics before I say if it's fixable."



"How would you fix it?" Micah asked.



I glanced back at him. "If Jacob and a few others are the problem, then it's fixable."



"Killing the ones who stand against Richard won't fix things, Anita," Rafael said. "The experiment in democracy must end. Richard must begin being harsher to those who would stand against him. He must be frightening to them, or there will be another Jacob, and another after that."



I nodded. "You're preaching to the choir here, Rafael."



"If you are not his girlfriend, or his lover, then I fear that your influence over Richard will be slight."



"I'm not sure I had a lot of influence over him when we were dating."



"If you cannot talk sense into him, then eventually Richard will die and someone else, probably Jacob, will take over the pack. The first thing any good conqueror does is kill those closest and most loyal to the executed leader."



"You think Jacob is that practical?" I asked.



"Yes," Rafael said.



"What do you want me to do?"



"I want you to hide the fact that you and Micah are lovers."



I glanced behind me at Micah. He shrugged, face peaceful. "I told you I wanted you on any terms that you wished, Anita. What do I have to do to convince you I meant that?"



I searched his face, tried to find something false in it, and couldn't. Maybe he was that good a liar. Maybe I was just being too suspicious. "When we were with the leopards, just the leopards, I was completely comfortable with you. It felt right and ... why doesn't it feel that way now?"



"You're having second thoughts," Reece said.



"No," Rafael said. He looked at Micah, and the two of them had major eye contact.



The staring contest went on so long that I had to interrupt. "One of you better start talking," I said.



Rafael inclined his head at Micah, as if to say, go ahead. I turned to Micah. "Alright," he said, and he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. I was almost positive I wasn't going to like this conversation. "Every pard, every group of shifters that is healthy has a group mind."



"You mean a group identity?" I asked.



"Not exactly. It's more ..." He frowned. "It's more like a coven that's worked magic together for a while. They begin to be parts of a whole when it comes to working magic or healing. Together they form more than they form separately."



"Okay, but what's that have to do with why I felt more comfortable when it was just us leopards?"



"If you feel differently when the leopards are around you, then we're forming a group mind. It usually takes months to forge that kind of bond between shifters. Maybe it's just a bond with your own leopards. The change coming on could have set it in motion."



"But you think it's more than that, don't you?"



He nodded. "I think you're forming a group mind with my pard, that in effect, the decision to join our pards into one unit has already been made."



"I haven't decided anything."



"Haven't you?" he asked. He looked so reasonable sitting there, hands clasped in front of him, leaning a little towards me. So earnest.



"Look, the sex was great. But I'm not ready to pick out china patterns here, you do understand that?" There was a feeling very close to panic in the pit of my stomach.



"Sometimes your beast picks for you," Rafael said.



I looked at him. "What does that mean?"



"If you are already a part of a group mind with his pard, then your beast has chosen for you, Anita. It's more intimate than being his lover, because it's not just him that you have a commitment to."



I gave him wide eyes. "Are you saying that I'm going to feel responsible for the safety and well-being of all his wereleopards as well as my own?"



Rafael nodded. "Probably."



I looked back at Micah. "How about you? You feel responsible for my people?"



He sighed, and it was heavy, not happy at all. "I didn't expect to form a bond this quickly. I've never seen it work this fast."



"And?" I said.



His mouth moved, almost a smile. "And, if we've really formed a group mind, then yes, I'll feel responsible for your people."



"You don't sound happy about that."



"Nothing personal, but your cats are a mess."



"Yours are so much healthier," I said, "Gina looks like someone who's been kicked once too often."



Micah's eyes hardened, and he searched my face. "No one talked to you. They wouldn't dare."



"No one tattled, Micah, but I could see it on her, smell the defeat. Someone's damn near broken her, and it's recent, or ongoing. She got a bad boyfriend?"



His face closed down. He didn't like that I'd figured that out. "Something like that." But his pulse had sped up, and I knew he was hiding something from me, something that scared him.



"What aren't you telling me, Micah?"



His gaze flicked past me to Rafael. "Will she be able to read my people more easily as time goes on."



"And you hers," Rafael said.



"Her people are pretty easy to read now," he said.



I was watching his face. He was controlling his body, keeping the tension out of it, but I could taste the speed of his pulse, and the fear. It wasn't just a small fear either. The thought that I could read his people so completely almost terrified him.



I laid my hand over his clasped ones, and he turned serious, guarded eyes to me. "Why does it scare you that I knew that Gina is being abused?"



He tensed under my hand and pulled away, gently, but he definitely didn't want me to touch him. "Gina wouldn't like it if you knew."



"As her Nimir-Raj, aren't you supposed to protect her from abusive assholes?"



"I've done my best for her," he said, but it sounded defensive.



"Kick the guy's ass and forbid her to see him again. It's a simple problem, don't complicate it. Or is she in love with him?"



He shook his head, eyes down, his hands clutching so tight that the skin mottled. His voice came out even, normal, but that terrible tension shook through his hands. "No, she's not in love with him."



"Then what's the problem?"



"It's more complicated than you could ever imagine." He looked up, and there was anger in his eyes now.



I started to reach out, to touch him, then let my hand fall back. "If we really are forming one pard. If I really am her Nimir-Raj, then no one's allowed to hurt her. No one hurts my people."



"The wolves took your Gregory," he said. The anger was still in his eyes, trembling down his hands.



"And we're going to get him back."



"I know you've had a hard life. I've heard some of the stories, but you talk as if you're young and naive. Sometimes no matter how hard you try, you can't save everyone."



It was my turn to look down. "I've lost people. I've failed people, and they've gotten hurt, and dead." I raised my eyes to meet his gaze. "But the people who hurt them, killed them, they're dead too. Maybe I can't keep everyone safe, but I'm damn fine at revenge."



"But the harm still happens. The dead don't really walk again. Zombies are just corpses, Anita. They aren't the people you lost."



"I know that last better than you do, Micah."



He nodded. Some of the terrible tension had eased away from him, but I left his eyes haunted with some old pain that was still raw.



"I've done everything I can for Gina and the others, and it's still not enough. It will never be enough."



I touched his hands, and this time he let me slide my hands over his. "Maybe together we can be enough for them all."



He searched my face. "You really mean that, don't you?"



"Anita rarely says anything she doesn't mean," Rafael said, "but if I were her, I'd ask first what the problems are before I promised to fix them."



I had to smile. "I was just about to ask, what is Gina into that's got you so terrified?"



He turned his hands so he was holding mine tight. He looked into my eyes. The look was not love, or even lust, but so serious. "Let's save your leopard first, then ask me again, and I'll tell you all of it."



The car slowed and turned. Gravel sounded under the tires. It was the turn-off to the farm that fronted the woods around the lupanar.



"Tell me some of it now, Micah. I need something here, now."



He sighed, looked down at his clasped hands, then up, slowly to meet my eyes. "Once we were taken over by a very bad man. He still wants us, and I'm searching for a home strong enough to keep us safe."



"Why are you afraid to tell me?"



His eyes widened a little. "Most pards don't want that kind of trouble."



I smiled. "Trouble is my middle name."



He looked a little puzzled. I guess I was the only one who liked film noir. "I'm not going to kick you guys out because of some asshole alpha. Let me know which way the danger's coming from, and I'll deal with it."



"I wish I had your confidence."



There was a weight to his gaze of such sorrow, such horrible loss. It made me shiver to see it, and he let go of my hands, sliding away from me just before Merle opened the door and offered a hand out. He didn't take the hand, but he slid out into the dark.



Reece followed him with a look at Rafael, as if the rat king had told him to get out and give us some privacy. I turned to Rafael. "You have something to say?"



"Be careful of that one, Anita. None of us know him, or his people."



"Funny, I was pretty much thinking the same thing."



"Even though he can make your beast roil through your body?"



I met his dark, dark eyes. "Maybe especially because of that."



Rafael smiled. "I should know by now that you are not a person to let her affections cloud her vision."



"Oh, it can be clouded, but never for long."



"You sound wistful," he said.



"Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to actually be able to just fall in love and not weigh the risks first."



"If it works out, it's the best thing in the world. If it doesn't work out, it's like having your heart torn out and chopped up into little pieces while you watch. It leaves a big hollow space that never really heals."



I looked at him, unsure what to say, but finally, "You sound like experience talking."



"I've got an ex-wife and a son. They live in a different state, as far away from me as she could drag him."



"What went wrong, if you don't mind me asking?"



"She wasn't strong enough to handle what I am. I didn't hide anything from her. She knew everything before we married. If I hadn't been so much in love with her, I'd have seen that she was weak. It's my job as king to know who's strong and who isn't. But she fooled me, because I wanted to be fooled. I know that now. She is what she is--not her fault. I can't even regret her getting pregnant right away. I love my son."



"Do you ever get to see him?"



He shook his head. "I get to fly in twice a year and have supervised visits. She's made him afraid of me."



I started to reach out to him, hesitated, then thought, what the hell. I took his hand, and he looked startled, then smiled. "I'm sorry, Rafael, more than I can ever say."



He squeezed my hand then moved back from me. "Just thought you ought to know that falling blindly in love isn't at all the way all those poems and songs make it sound. It hurts like hell."



"I did fall in love like that once," I said.



He raised his eyebrows at me. "Not since I've known you."



"No, in college. I was engaged, thought it was true love."



"What happened?"



"His mom found out my mother was Mexican, and she didn't want her little blond-haired, blue-eyed, family tree getting contaminated."



"You were engaged before they'd met your family?"



"They'd met my father and his second wife, but they are both good little Aryans, very nordic. My stepmother didn't like pictures of my mother being out, so they were all in my room. I wasn't hiding it, but that's how my almost mother-in-law took it. Funny thing, her son knew. I'd told him the whole story. It hadn't mattered until his mom threatened to cut him off from the family money."



"Now I'm sorry."



"Your story is more pitiful."



"That doesn't make me feel better," he said, smiling.



I smiled back, but neither of us really looked happy. "Ain't love grand?" I said.



"You can answer your own question after you see Richard and Micah in the lupanar together."



I shook my head. "I don't love Micah, not really, not yet."



"But," he said.



I sighed. "But I almost wish I did. It would make seeing Richard less painful. I don't know how I'm going to feel seeing him tonight and knowing that he's not mine anymore."



"Probably about the same way he'll feel when he sees you."



"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"



"No, it's just the truth. Remember that cutting you out of his life was forced on him. He loves you, Anita, for better or worse."



"I love him, but I won't let him kill Gregory. And I won't let him cost Sylvie her life. I won't let him take the pack down to wrack and ruin because of some idealistic set of rules that only he is paying attention to."



"If you kill Jacob and his followers without Richard's permission, then he may send the pack after you and your leopards. If you are not lukoi, not lupa, then to let their deaths go unpunished would make him appear so weak you might as well let Jacob kill him."



"Then what am I supposed to do?"



"I don't know."



Merle stuck his head in the car. "We've got wolves out here. Your rats are holding them back, but they're getting impatient."



"We're coming," Rafael said. He looked across the seat at me. "Shall we?"



I nodded. "I guess it'd be silly not to get out of the car."



He slid out to the edge of the seat, then hesitated, holding his arm out for me. Normally, I wouldn't have taken it, but tonight we were trying for a show of solidarity and style. So I stepped out of the car on the rat king's arm, like a trophy wife--except for the wrist sheaths and the two folding knives hidden in my clothing. Somehow I think trophy wives wear more makeup and less cutlery. But, hey, I haven't ever met a trophy wife, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe they know what I know, that the true way to a man's heart is six inches of metal between his ribs. Sometimes four inches will do the job, but to be really sure, I like to have six. Funny how phallic objects are always more useful the bigger they are. Anyone who tells you size doesn't matter has been seeing too many small knives.