"I am not certain that I know what you mean," Jean-Claude said.
"Jean-Claude, every lover Anita has gains power. Asher was a master vampire in name only, almost, but since he's been in her bed he's gained enough power to have his own territory if he didn't love you both too much to leave. Nathaniel was everyone's victim; now he is becoming someone to be reckoned with. You, personally, have gained more power than you ever dreamed."
"And you believe that it is ma petite who has given me power, not that I have shared my power with her?"
"She has her own triumvirate of power, Jean-Claude. Her own vampire servant in Damian."
"I am not the power behind the throne, Rafael. Trust me, Jean-Claude is plenty powerful enough for both of us."
"He is, but he gained most of that power after you became his lover."
"I gained powers after he made me his servant," I said, "not the other way around."
"I've been talking to some of the wererats in Europe," Rafael said. "They speak of your Belle Morte, the creator of your bloodline. They say that she could give power to her lovers, if she chose."
"Belle Morte does not choose to share power with anyone," Jean-Claude said.
"No, but she can; through sex, she can make her lovers more powerful. Legend has it that once she made kings and emperors through her touch. She changed the face of Europe through her bed."
"She ruled from her bedroom, that is true, but not in the way you think. She chose only the powerful, only those who could give her something she wanted. And I did not gain power in her bed. I was her pawn for centuries. As was Asher."
"Masters of the City often kill their own vampire children if they become too powerful, true?" Rafael said.
"Some do."
"But isn't it strange that so many of the vampires who were nearly powerless around Belle Morte have gained power the longer they are away from her?"
"What are you saying, Rafael?"
"I have heard rumors that some masters can retard the powers of their followers."
"Some can, but I do not believe Belle is one of them."
"Why not?"
He gave that shrug again.
Frankly, the rats were a little too well informed for comfort. I'd seen a master vampire gain new powers once in America and far enough away from his old master. But I wasn't sure it was on purpose; I'd actually begun to wonder if some powerful masters gave off a sort of hormone that retarded the power of those around them. No way to test it, but I'd seen some of what Rafael was saying.
"There are rats in every city," Sampson said, and like last time it was as if we'd all forgotten him.
Rafael nodded. "There are."
I had this image of hundreds of rats scampering in the walls, hearing things, and what they heard, the rat king heard. Did it work that way? For real? I wanted to ask, but in this mood, I wasn't sure how he'd take the question.
"I am the son of two powers, but you did not concern yourself that you had insulted me," Sampson said.
"I don't know what you are to Jean-Claude and Anita."
"So you would ignore me, and see if it got a reaction?"
Rafael nodded.
"I am the next lover in line for Anita."
"Why have you waited so long?"
"It is the lady's privilege to keep a man waiting."
They were supposed to be talking about me, but it was like I was missing the conversation, or not truly understanding it all.
"Would you allow me to jump ahead of you in line?"
Sampson shook his head. "No."
He looked at Jean-Claude. "Is this your final word, that the sea king's son is more important than I am, than my rats are, to you?"
"That is not what is being said here, Rafael," Jean-Claude said.
"I believe that any animal that comes to your bed, or Anita's bed, is more important to you, Jean-Claude. Deny it if you like, but the proof is in the pudding, eh?"
"The proof is in the eating of it," Jean-Claude said, "for all puddings look sweet."
"Do I or any of my people look sweet to you?" he asked.
I felt Claudia's reaction from across the room. A flare of power, like a metaphysical slap to remind us how really powerful she was. That one splash of heated energy said loud and clear that it didn't matter how tasty anyone thought she was, she wasn't playing.
Rafael let out a careful breath and rotated his neck, as if that slap of energy had been more energetic the closer you'd been to it. "I would not force any of my rats into someone's bed. But if some would choose it, would you take them as blood or flesh donors?"
"Define flesh," I said.
"Sex," he said.
Richard shifted beside me on the couch. "The rats don't give blood to anyone. It was one of your first rules as king. Nikolaos tortured you because you forbade your rats to feed her vampires."
"She was unstable, and farther away from her was safer for my people. Closer to Jean-Claude seems safer."
"You'd really let your rats be blood whores?" Richard sounded almost shocked.
"I would."
"You think that if some of your rats come into our bedrooms, your people will be that much safer?" Micah asked.
"If our positions were reversed, what would you do?"
"Not this," Richard said.
"I am asking the Nimir-Raj," Rafael said.
Richard shifted uncomfortably on one side of me while Micah seemed to settle back more comfortably. "I've already done what you're suggesting."
Rafael nodded. "You offered yourself to Anita and Jean-Claude and now your pard, though one of the smallest groups in the area, is one of the most secure groups in all of St. Louis. How many of your leopards donate blood to the vampires?"
"Most of them."
Rafael spread his hands, as if to say, See?
I wanted to argue with them, but I tried to be honest. Was his reasoning sound? Through us, Micah was in charge of the furry coalition hotline, which meant he was beginning to be the go-to guy for most of the lycanthropy community. He was the liaison between us and the larger community. His television time was even going up. He gave good sound bite.
The leopards had fewer members than almost any other group, yet no one messed with them. Because I, or Jean-Claude, or our people, kept killing anyone who fucked with them.
I looked at the rat king. "Damn," I said, softly.
"Yes," he said.
I glanced down the couch at Richard and Jean-Claude. "He's not wrong, is he?"
"I cannot argue with some of his reasoning," Jean-Claude said.
"No," Richard said, "he's not right."
"I didn't say he was right, Richard, just that he's not wrong," I said.
"That makes no sense. If Rafael isn't wrong, then he has to be right." Richard turned his body so he was facing me, and blocked my view of Jean-Claude—those broad shoulders of his getting in the way.
"He's right that our lovers are safer. He's wrong if he thinks we'd leave the rats out to dry if someone threatened them."
"You are tied to us only by money and contracts," Rafael said. "I would feel better if you were tied with more intimate things."
"You have our word that we will honor our treaty with you," Jean-Claude said.
"But you have a treaty with the hyenas, as well, and I do not believe that Asher will keep refusing the bounty that Narcissus is shoving at him."
"Do not make the mistake of thinking Asher is weak. He is not," Jean-Claude said.
"You are in love with him; you do not see him clearly."
"I could say to you that you are not in love with him, and you do not see him clearly because of it."
"Order him not to be intimate with the hyenas and I will be content with it."
"I would rather not give such an order," Jean-Claude said.