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He leaned over me, put his hands delicately around my face, and tried to •aise me up for a kiss. Normally, I would have met him hallway, but I didn't lo it this time. I stayed sitting, forcing him to bend down for me. I kept my land on the robe, holding it in place, and watched him bend lower. He topped just before he would have kissed me, and drew back enough so I :ould see his face clearly. "You have kissed me many times with the taste of rour sweet blood upon my lips, but now, I see reluctance on your face, feel t in your body. Why?" He searched my face, though I knew he could drop Lis shields and know exactly what I was thinking. Maybe he was afraid of fhat he'd find.

Why, he'd asked? Because he'd licked my blood off his fingers? I'd kissed im when he'd come directly off my vein. I'd kissed him when one mouth or le other had gotten nicked on his fangs. I'd learned to think of a little sweet opper taste as almost an aphrodisiac, because I'd begun to associate it with im, and others. Even Richard liked a little taste of blood; he hated that he ked it, but he did.

Jean-Claude drew back, letting my face slide between his hands as he

ood. A look of such sadness came over his face. I grabbed his arm. "Don't."

"Don't what, ma petite} Don't stop hiding what I am? I cannot be human,

ma petite, not even for you. I thought the worst of playing human for each other, you and I, was the crippling of our power, but that is not what hurts my heart."

I let go of his arm. I didn't want to ask the next question, but I knew I had to, or be branded a coward. I swallowed hard enough that it hurt, and asked, "What hurts your heart?" It was a whisper, but I asked it. Brownie points for me.

"That you turn away from me, for such a small thing. I licked your blood off my fingertips and now you will not kiss me."

"I would have kissed you."

He shook his head. "But you did not wish to."

That I couldn't argue with. Part of me wished I could have, part of me didn't. "What do you want me to say?" I asked.

"I want you and Richard to embrace yourselves, and I am out of time to await this miracle."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"You promised to feed the ardeur from Requiem, if he fought free of your power. Will you go back on your word?"

I glanced at the other vampire, lying on the mounded pillows, then back to Jean-Claude. "The ardeur hasn't risen for either of us, yet. I think we should use the time we have before it does to plan strategy."

"Strategy for what, ma petite} This is not a battle of guns and knives. This is battle of a softer sort, though no less dangerous in the end."

I was shaking my head, and felt the first little trickle of blood down my throat. It wasn't the shaking that was making me bleed a little more, but the fact that my pulse was speeding up. "We are not going to feed the ardeur be­fore we have to."

"Your power rises, and you are more like Belle Morte," Requiem said, and he sounded sad.

I glanced at him. "What are you talking about?"

Requiem answered, "Belle used to promise to feed the ardeur on us, then say she had not meant right this moment, but later, always later. Later could be very late indeed when she wished to play cruel games."

"I'm not playing," I said, "I'm scared."

"If you feed from him, and he becomes besotted again, then you cannot feed off any of the pomme de sang candidates. We will show them Requiem's state of mind and tell them you have grown too powerful for such games."

"And if he doesn't fall under my spell again?" I asked.

"Then you may taste some of the candidates without sex."

I was shaking my head.

"The ardeur is growing, ma petite, you must accept that. What we have seen today and last night proves that pretending will no longer work."

"I'm not pretending," I said.

"You are pretending."

"Pretending what?" I asked.

"I am sorry, ma petite, so sorry, but we must accept the truth."

I had crawled to the foot of the bed. Blood was trickling down my throat, like tickling fingers. I was so scared I could taste metal on my tongue. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You are succubus to my incubus, ma petite. You feed as a vampire feeds, but on sex instead of blood."

"I know that," I said, and sounded angry, because I didn't want to sound scared.

"You say you know, but you know here"—and he touched his forehead— "not here"—and touched his heart. "You do not truly believe you are vampire."

"I'm not a vampire."

"Not in the traditional sense, non, but only because you have Damian and Nathaniel to draw upon. Without them to draw energy from, when you did not feed the ardeur in a timely fashion, your own body would feel the weak­ness."

"You went for years without feeding the ardeur for real. The old Master of St. Louis wouldn't let you feed the ardeur, not completely."

"Oui, Nikolaos feared what I would become if she allowed my powers full rein. The Master of the City that traded me to her feared me, as well. He sent me to Nikolaos because he knew that her child's body would not be something I would willingly seduce."

"She looked about twelve or thirteen; that's legal in some places."

He shook his head. "Not for me," he said, then he shivered. "You met her, ma petite; could you ever see me purposefully doing anything to draw her at­tention to me in that way?"

I shook my head. "No, she was creepy as hell, and not in a fun way."

He nodded. "Oui, creepy will do as an appellation, though there are other words." He shook his head, as if to clear his mind from such thoughts. "If you were a different woman, one of more casual lusts, then your being suc­cubus to my incubus would not be a hardship. You would simply feed from whomever you wished. You are human, so your use of vampire trickery is not illegal."

"Not true," I said, "it is illegal to use magic or psychic ability to induce, or bespell, into sexual acts. It's looked on like a date-rape drug."

He nodded. "I had not realized the law had been broadened to include that."

I shrugged. "I keep track of the new laws, part of my job."

He nodded again. "But still, ma petite, there are many who would come eagerly to your body. You would not lack for food, if you were willing to feed on strangers."

I frowned at him.

He gave a small smile. "Do not frown so, ma petite, I know you do not do casual. In fact, you are the least casual person that I have ever met. So seri­ous, you are, so deadly serious about everything."

"Is that a complaint?" I asked.

"No, but it is the truth."

I nodded, and put a hand to my throat to try to stop the blood from get­ting onto the silk robe. I looked for Remus. "Gauze, please, or this will have to be dry-cleaned."

Remus handed the gauze over without a word. I tried to stop the blood, but my pulse was pushing it out. I couldn't seem to calm myself enough to slow my pulse. So much for the meditation practice I'd been working on.

"What's your point?" I asked.

"That you need food that you know, and are comfortable with. A pomme de sang is never meant to be the only food for a vampire. It is more like food you always know is on hand. But it is assumed that the vampire will feed off many humans."