"I've never seen you be that … soft with anyone before."
It startled me. "You've seen me kiss Richard before."
He nodded. "That was lust. This is … " He shook his head, glancing up at Jean-Claude, then back to me. "He makes you feel safe."
I realized with a jolt that he was right. "You're smarter than you look, Zerbrowski."
"Katie reads self-help books to me. I just look at the pictures." He touched my right hand. "I'll talk to Dolph."
"I don't think it's going to help," I said.
He shrugged. "If Orlando King can have a conversion experience where the monsters are concerned, anybody can."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Have you ever read, or seen, any of his interviews before his accident?" Zerbrowski made little quote marks with his fingers when he said accident.
"No. That was before I was interested in the topic, I think."
He frowned at me. "I keep forgetting, you were still in diapers then."
I just shook my head. "So tell me."
"King was one of the shining lights behind trying to get lycanthropes declared nonhuman, so they could be executed just for existing, without a trial. Then he got cut up, and, lo and behold, he mellowed."
"Nearly dying will do that to you, Zerbrowski."
He grinned at me. "It didn't make me a better man." I'd held my hands over his stomach, kept his insides from spilling out, while we waited for an ambulance. It had happened just before Christmas about two years ago. Zerbrowski live and well had been all I put on my list to Santa that year.
"If Katie couldn't make you a better man, then nothing could," I said.
He grinned wider, then his face sobered. "I'll talk to the boss for you, see if I can get him to mellow without a near-death experience."
I looked up into his serious face. "Just because you saw me hug Jean-Claude?"
"Yeah."
I gave Zerbrowski a quick hug. "Thank you."
He pushed me back towards Jean-Claude. "Better get him under wraps before dawn." He looked past me to the vampire. "Take care of her."
Jean-Claude gave a small bow from his neck. "I will take care of her as much as she allows it."
Zerbrowski laughed. "Oh, he does know you."
We left with Zerbrowski laughing, the clerk staring, and the night growing soft around us. Dawn was coming, and I had so many questions. Nathaniel drove. Jean-Claude and I rode in back.
13
I BUCKLED MY seat belt out of habit, but Jean-Claude stayed pressed to my side, arm around my shoulders. I'd started to shake and couldn't seem to stop. It was as if I'd been waiting for him so I could finally fall apart. I didn't cry, just let him hold me while I shook.
"It is alright, ma petite. We are both safe now."
I shook my head against the stained front of his shirt. "It's not that."
He touched my face, raised it to look at him in the soft-lighted darkness of the car. "Then what is it?"
"I had sex with Micah." I watched his face, waited for the anger, jealousy, something to flash through his eyes. What I saw was sympathy, and I didn't understand it.
"You are like a vampire newly risen. Even those of us who will be masters cannot fight our hunger the first night, or the first few nights. It is overwhelming. It is why many vampires feed on their nearest kin when they first rise. It is who they are thinking of in their hearts, and they are drawn to them. It is only with the aid of a master vampire that the hunger can be directed elsewhere."
"You're not angry?" I asked.
He laughed and hugged me. "I thought you would be angry with me for giving you the ardeur, the fire, the burning hunger."
I pushed back enough to see his face. "Why didn't you warn me that I couldn't control it?"
"I never underestimate you, ma petite. If anyone I have ever known in all these centuries could have withstood such a test, it was you. So I did not tell you you would fail, because I no longer try to predict what power will do to you, or through you. You are a law unto yourself so much of the time."
"I was … helpless. I … I didn't want to control it."
"Of course not."
I shook my head. "Is the ardeur permanent?"
"I do not know."
"How long until I can control it?"
"A few weeks. But even after you have control, you will have to be careful around those you most lust after. They will make the hunger flare like fire raging in your veins. There is no shame to it."
"So you say."
He held my face between his hands. "Ma petite, it has been over four hundred years since I first woke with the ardeur raging in me, but I remember. All these years, and I still remember that the cry for flesh was almost worse than the cry for blood."
I held his wrists, pressed his hands against my face. "I'm scared."
"Of course you are. You should be. But I will help you through this. I will be your guide. It may pass away in a few days, or come and go, I simply do not know. But I will help you through it, whatever happens."
Nathaniel pulled into the Circus of the Damned parking lot, beside the back door. It was still dark as we got out, but the air had that soft feel of predawn. You could taste the coming morning on the tip of your tongue.
Jason opened the outer door as if he'd been waiting for us. He probably had. Jean-Claude hurried past him to the door that led to the stairs. We followed, but Jean-Claude called back over his shoulder, "I must shower before dawn." With that he left us, running in a blur of motion. The rest of us walked more sedately down the stairs, able to walk three abreast, because none of us were large people.
"How are you feeling?" Jason asked.
I shrugged. "I'm pretty much healed."
"You look shook."
I shrugged, again.
"Okay, I can take a hint. You don't want to talk about it."
"No, I don't."
Jason glanced around me at Nathaniel. "You staying the night?"
"Am I?" I knew the question was directed at me.
"Sure, you may need to drive me home tomorrow, or rather, later today."
"Yes, I am staying."
"You can bunk with me then. God knows the bed is big enough and doesn't see many visitors."
I glanced at Jason. "Does Jean-Claude limit your social activities?"
He laughed. "No, not exactly, but the women who come down here are vampire freaks. They want to sleep in a bed under the ground at the Circus of the Damned. They don't want me, they want Jean-Claude's pet werewolf."
"I wouldn't think … " I stopped myself because I realized it was an insult.
"Go ahead and say it."
"I wouldn't think that you'd be that picky," I said.
"I wasn't when I first got here. But lately I just don't want to be with someone who just wants me so she can brag to her friends that she slept with a shapeshifter, or got to sleep where the vampires sleep. No matter how good it feels for a few minutes, it still makes me feel like they've just come to look at one of the freaks."
I slipped my arm through his, squeezed his arm. "Don't let anybody make you feel like that, Jason. You're not a freak."
He patted my hand. "Look who's talking."
I pulled away from him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing, I'm sorry I said it."
"No, I want you to explain it."
He sighed and hurried down the steps, but I was in Nikes and could keep up. Nathaniel followed a few steps behind without saying a word. "Explain it, Jason."
"You hate the monsters. You hate being different."
"That's not true."
"You accept that you're different, but you don't like it."
I opened my mouth to argue with him, but had to stop myself, had to think. Was he right? Was he? Did I hate being different? Did I hate the monsters because they were different? "Maybe you're right."
He looked back at me, eyes wide. "Anita Blake admitting she may be wrong? Gasp!"
I tried to frown at him, but I could feel it held an edge of smile that ruined the effect. "I better get used to being one of the monsters, or so I hear."