«How can you say that?» Graham asked. He turned toward the other man with my clothes still clutched in his big arms.
«Because it's the truth, Graham, and if you would think with something higher than your belt buckle you'd be scared, too.»
«Scared of what?» Graham said. «It's the most mind-blowing sex that any vampire line can give a mortal. I've had more of a taste of it than you have. Trust me, Clay, if she'd ever fed off you, even a little, you'd want more.»
«That's exactly what scares me,» Clay said.
I had a thought, a bad one. I had fed on Graham in small ways when the ardeur was new. I'd given him the smallest taste of it that I could. We had never been naked together. We had never touched each other in any area that was considered sexual. But just because I thought it hadn't been enough contact to addict him to the ardeur didn't mean I was right. The ardeur could act like a drug, and I'd learned through some of the vampires that how easily addicted to it you were varied from person to person. Had I addicted Graham to the ardeur without meaning to? Was his reaction to me my fault? Shit.
Graham turned back to me with my clothes crushed against his chest. He looked panic stricken. «Please, Anita, please, don't do this. I'm sorry, okay, I'm sorry.» His eyes glittered through the fringe of his hair. I think he was on the verge of tears. I was reminded that he was under twenty-five by a few years. He was so physically big that sometimes you forgot how young he was. We were only about four or five years apart, but his eyes showed that he was younger than I had been at the same age. I wanted to touch his arm, comfort him, apologize to him. Tell him I hadn't meant this to happen. But I was afraid to touch him. I was afraid I'd make things worse somehow.
«Graham,» and my voice sounded gentle, a voice for soothing frightened children and ledge jumpers, «I need you to find Remus or Claudia and bring them to me, okay? I need to talk to them about some of the things that happened last night. Can you do that for me? Can you find one of them and bring them to me?»
He swallowed hard enough that it sounded painful. «You won't kick me off your detail?»
«No,» I said.
He nodded too fast, too often, over and over. He actually started for the door with my clothes still in his hands. It was Clay who took the clothes from him. When the door closed behind him, Clay turned to me. We stared at each other.
«He's addicted, isn't he?» Clay asked.
I nodded. «I think so.»
«You didn't know either?»
I shook my head.
«You look pale,» he said.
«You, too,» I said.
«You haven't fed that much from him, right? I mean, you didn't even get naked together, right?»
«No, we didn't.»
«I thought it took more than that to addict someone to it.»
«So did I,» I said.
Clay seemed to shake himself, like a dog coming out of water. «I'll put your clothes in the bathroom for you. I'll call Claudia and tell her we need a new red shirt.»
«I think once she sees Graham she'll figure it out.»
«He hid it pretty well, Anita. I think by the time he finds them, he'll have his shit together. It may not show.»
I nodded. «You're right.»
«I mean, he has a radio on him, too. He didn't think to use it.»
«The radios are new,» I said.
«The wererats have been handing the radio setups to some of the guards. When they found all the high-tech listening devices, I think they decided that we needed to go higher-tech ourselves.»
«Sounds reasonable,» I said. I felt Jean-Claude wake. Felt it like a hand caressing my body. It caught my breath in my throat.
«What's wrong?» Clay asked.
«Jean-Claude's awake.»
«Good.»
I nodded. Good was right. I let Jean-Claude feel how much I wanted him to be with me. I wanted him to hold me and tell me it was all going to be all right. In that moment, I wanted him to comfort me, even if it was all lies. Graham's face had been all the truth I wanted for a little while.
chapter eighteen
I WAS DRESSED by the time Jean-Claude knocked on the bathroom door. His «Ma petite, may I come in?» was uncertain of its welcome. I guess he thought I'd blame him for the ardeur having addicted Graham. There'd been a time, not too long ago, that I might have. But it was too late for blame. Blame wouldn't fix it, and I wanted it fixed. I wanted Graham free of the ardeur, if we could manage it. I'd freed others of the ardeur, but they'd been completely rolled by it. I'd never had anyone this addicted from such a small piece of it. Or maybe I had, and they were hiding it, too? God, I wish I hadn't thought of that.
«Ma petite?»
«Yes, I mean, come in. God, please come in.»
The door opened. He stood framed for a moment before I flung myself onto him, burying my face against the furred lapels of his robe. I clutched at the heavy black brocade, pressing myself tight against him. His arms enfolded me, lifted me off the ground and moved us both inside the room. One arm held me close, the other hand reached back and closed the door behind us. The move was so fast I didn't have time to protest or think about it.
He let my feet touch the floor. «Ma petite, ma petite, what is so very wrong?»
«Me,» I said. «I'm wrong.» I spoke calmly, I didn't yell, I just happened to be talking with my face against his robe.
He drew me away from him enough for him to see my face. «Ma petite, I felt your distress, but I do not know what has caused it.»
«Graham is addicted to the ardeur.»
«When did this happen?» he asked, his face gone to careful blankness. He was probably unsure what expression wouldn't upset me.
«I don't know.»
He studied my face, and even that careful blankness could not hide his concern. «When did you give Graham a stronger taste of the ardeur?»
«I didn't. I swear, I haven't touched him again. I've worked really hard not to touch him.» The words came faster and faster, until even to me it sounded hysterical, but I couldn't stop.
Jean-Claude put a finger on my lips and stopped all the protest. «If you have not touched him again, ma petite, then he cannot be addicted to the ardeur?»
I tried to say something, but he kept his finger touching my mouth. «The fact that Graham wants you is not proof of addiction, ma petite. You underestimate the pull of your sweet self.»
I shook my head and moved my face back so I could speak. «He's addicted, damn it. I know the difference between lust and addiction. Ask Clay if you don't trust me.» I pulled away from him; it didn't feel comforting to touch him anymore.
«I trust you, ma petite.» He was frowning now.
«Then take my word for it. Graham is addicted, and I don't know when it happened. Do you understand? I've avoided him. I've done everything I can to keep him away from the ardeur and still let him be a bodyguard. Today I tried to fire him from my guard detail.»
«What did he say to that?»
«He was panic stricken. He was nearly in tears. I've never seen him like that. He only calmed down when I told him I wouldn't replace him on my detail.»
«The ardeur is not so easily caught, ma petite. The few touches that Graham has had are not enough to addict him.»
«I saw it!» I was pacing the room now.
«I think you need a cross, ma petite.»
«What?» I asked.
He went to the door, opened it. «Could you please get one of the extra crosses out of the bedside table?»
I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. The red shirt seemed to blaze against my pale skin and dark hair. The scarlet seemed to be some sort of accusation like a scarlet woman, the scarlet letter. The last thought stopped me, as if the hysteria had hit a stumbling block. I could think for a second. Scarlet woman, the Scarlet Letter; this wasn't me thinking. Shit. I was being messed with.