"We are so not doing this," I said. I took the Browning out of my pocket and showed it to her. "Don't touch him."
"You are a conquered people, Anita. Don't you grasp that yet?" she asked.
"Conquer this," I said. I raised the Browning towards her. Jean-Claude touched my arm. "Put away your gun, ma petite."
"We can't let her have Jason."
"She will not have Jason," he said. He stared down the hallway at Yvette. "Jason is mine. Mine in every way. I will not share him with you, and it is against the rules of hospitality that you do something to one of my people that will cause permanent damage. Breaking his mind is against council law."
"Padma doesn't think so," Yvette said.
"But you are not Padma." Jean-Claude glided towards them. His power began to fill the hallway like cool rising water.
"You were my toy for over a hundred years, Jean-Claude. Do you really think you can stand against me now?"
I felt her lash out, like a knife striking, but her power met Jean-Claude's and faded. It was like she was striking at mist. His power didn't fight back. It absorbed.
Jean-Claude stepped up, almost touching her, and jerked the leash out of her hand. She touched his face with her rotting flesh, smearing things worse than blood down his cheek.
Jean-Claude laughed, and it was bitter, like swallowing broken glass. It hurt to hear the sound. "I have seen you at your worst, Yvette. There is nothing new you can show me."
She dropped her hands to her side and stared up at him. "There are more delights up ahead. Padma and the Traveler await you." She didn't know that the Traveler was already among us. Willie's body remained quiet, not giving the Traveler away. Interesting.
Yvette held up her hand, and it was smooth and perfect once more. "You are conquered, Jean-Claude. You just don't know it yet."
Jean-Claude hit her, a blur of speed that sent her careening along the floor to end in a not so elegant bundle against the wall. "I may be conquered, Yvette, but not by you. Not by you."
19
Jean-Claude untied Jason's hands and tore the collar from around his neck. Jason huddled into a little ball on the floor. He was making small noises in his throat more primitive than words and more piteous.
Yvette had gotten to her high heels and left us. Warrick was healing, if that was the right word. He sat up, still covered in the remains of his own bodily fluids, but his eyes were clear and blue, and he looked whole.
The Traveler in Willie's body walked up to stand by Jean-Claude. "You have impressed me more than once this night."
"I did none of it to impress, Traveler. These are my people. These are my lands. I defend them. It is not a game." He produced two handkerchiefs from somewhere. He handed me one. "For your hand, ma petite." He started to wipe the goop off Jason's face with the other handkerchief.
I stared down at my left hand. Blood was running in a nice steady line down my hand. I'd forgotten about it, watching Warrick rot. Some horrors were worse than pain. I took the bit of blue silk from Jean-Claude. "Thanks." I wrapped the makeshift bandage around the wound, but couldn't tie it one-handed.
The Traveler tried to help me tie the bandage. I pulled away from him.
"I offer you aid, not harm."
"No thanks."
He smiled, and again it was not Willie's thoughts that slid over his face. "It upsets you so much that I inhabit this body. Why?"
"He's my friend," I said.
"Friendship. You claim friendship with this vampire. He is nothing. A power not to be reckoned with."
"He's not my friend because he's powerful or not powerful. He's just my friend."
"It has been a very long time since someone has invoked friendship in my presence. They will beg for mercy, but never on the grounds of friendship."
Jean-Claude stood. "No one else would have thought of it."
"No one else would have been so naive," the Traveler said.
"It is a form of naivetй," Jean-Claude said. "That is true, but how long has it been, Traveler, since someone, anyone, had the courage to be naive before the council? They come before you asking for power, safety, vengeance, but not friendship, not loyalty. No, that they will not ask of the council."
Willie's head did that little turn to one side again, as if the Traveler were thinking. "Does she offer me friendship or ask it of me?"
I started to answer, but Jean-Claude beat me to it. "Can you offer true friendship without asking for it in return?"
I opened my mouth to say that I'd sooner be friends with a hungry crocodile, but Jean-Claude touched my arm gently. It was enough. We were winning. Don't blow it.
"Friendship," the Traveler said. "Now that is indeed something I have not been offered since I took my seat upon the council."
I spoke then, without thinking first. "That must be very lonely."
He laughed, and it was that same eerie mixture of Willie's loud bray and a slithering chuckle. "She is like a wind through a window long closed, Jean-Claude. A mixture of cynicism, naivetй, and power." He touched my face, and I let him. He cupped the side of my face in his hand in an almost familiar gesture. "She does have a certain. . charm."
His hand trailed down my face, fingertips lingering against my cheek. He dropped his hand suddenly, fingers rubbing against each other as if he were trying to feel some invisible something. He shook his head. "I and this body will await you in the torture room." He answered me before I could even say no. "I do not plan to harm this body, Anita, but I do need it to walk about. I will leave this host if there is one that you would prefer I take."
He turned and stared at the rest of the group. His gaze came to rest at last on Damian. "I could take this one. Balthasar would enjoy that, I think."
I shook my head. "No."
"Is this one also your friend?"
I glanced at Damian. "Not my friend, no, but he's still mine."
The Traveler turned his head to one side, staring at me. "He belongs to you, how? Is he your lover?"
I shook my head. "No."
"Brother? Cousin? Ancestor?"
"No," I said.
"Then how is he. . yours?"
I didn't know how to explain it. "I won't give Damian to you to save Willie. You said it yourself. You're not hurting him."
"And if I was? Would you trade Damian's safety for your friend?"
I shook my head. "I'm not going to debate this with you."
"I am merely trying to discern how important your friends are to you, Anita."
I shook my head again. I didn't like where this conversation was going. If I said the wrong thing, the Traveler was going to start cutting Willie up. I could see it coming. It was a trap, and everything I thought to say led right into it.
Jean-Claude interrupted, "ma petitevalues her friends."
The Traveler held up a hand. "No, she must answer this one herself. It is her loyalty that I wish to understand, not yours." He stared at me from less than a foot away, uncomfortably close. "How important are your friends to you, Anita? Answer the question."
I thought of one answer that might not lead where the Traveler wanted to go. "Important enough to kill for," I said.
His eyes flew wide. His mouth opened in amazement. "Are you threatening me?"
I shrugged. "You asked a question. I answered it."
He threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, what a man you would have made."
I'd spent enough time around macho guys to know it was a compliment, a sincerely meant one. They never understood the implied insult. And as long as we weren't cutting up people I cared for, I wasn't going to point it out. "Thanks," I said.