Chapter 73
GRIMES DIDN'T LIKE me going in, and he sure as hell didn't want Rocco to go in with me. Edward didn't like me going in without him. But we had the arguments in the cars, so we could argue on the way and make the half-hour deadline.
"Lieutenant," Rocco said, "I can say the spell that will banish the jinn, and Anita can't."
"I know her pronunciation isn't good enough."
"I speak Arabic," Edward said.
"But you're not a practitioner, and we need a little magic with the words," Rocco said.
"What aren't the two of you telling me?" Grimes asked.
We both fought not to look at each other, and it showed. "What are you planning to do in there?"
"The phrase you're looking for, sir," Edward said, "is plausible deniability."
Grimes frowned at us. "Are you planning to do anything illegal?"
Again, we fought not to look at each other. "No, sir," Rocco said, "everything will be perfectly legal."
"Promise," Grimes said.
"It's legal," I said.
"But I don't want to know anyway, is that it?"
"What answer will get me in there with Sergeant Rocco?"
"Well, at least that's honest. Max's inner room at Trixie's interferes with electronics."
I didn't ask how he knew that, just accepted it as true. It didn't surprise me; as Vittorio said, the hooks in the ceiling for hanging people up had been in the ceiling when he got there. I was betting this was where Max did some of his dirty work.
"So you're going in there with no way to call for help," Grimes said.
"If we need to call for help, Lieutenant," I said, "you won't be able to get to us in time."
He studied my face. "I think you mean that."
"I do."
"You seem calm."
"I've got my goals."
"Your objectives," he said.
"If you like."
"And they are?"
"Rescue my friend before he gets more hurt. Save all the civilians. Send the jinn back to where they belong. Rescue Max and his charming wife, their bodyguard, and any other weretigers who are good guys. Oh, and kill Vittorio before he can manifest enough power to make a nuclear explosion over Vegas look like the better idea."
"Is he really capable of that much damage?"
"Think of an army of the things that killed your officers loosed on the city. Think of Vittorio able to broadcast his mind control over the populace."
"You think he's that good?"
"Not yet, and we have to keep it that way. I believe that we have to do everything within our power to make certain he dies today."
"You might be interested to know, Marshal Blake, that the governor signed off on the stay of execution for the vampires at last night's club."
"That's good, Lieutenant. I mean that; they don't deserve to die."
"Your report carried weight."
I nodded, but was already looking up the street to the police cars, the barricades, and the next fight.
Chapter 74
ROCCO AND I were standing outside Trixie's with our hands clasped on our heads. We'd stripped down to T-shirts, pants, and boots for him, jogging shoes for me. A man who looked human but talked like Vittorio had his hand up his ass was saying, "Turn around, slowly, so we can see."
We did what he said to do.
The man seemed to be listening to something in his head. He nodded, and walked forward. He patted us down, thoroughly, top to bottom. "You have no weapons, very good," he said, but it was Vittorio's inflections. "Now, come join us."
"Let the customers go first, like you promised."
"Oh, yes, I suppose I did." The man was speaking, but it was really Vittorio using his body to do the talking. His ability to manipulate humans had grown more complex, more complete, in less than twenty-four hours. He had to die.
The man walked back through the doors. A few minutes later, people ran out. Dozens of them spilling out into the street into the arms of the waiting police, who hurried them to safety.
The man was in the door. He motioned toward it. "After you, Anita, and Sergeant Rocco, you said."
"Yes."
"Come on down," he said, in a mock announcer voice.
"Let the man go, too," I said.
"I said customers; he works behind the bar," the man said, talking about himself in the third person. He even had the smile Vittorio had used in the dream. It was an unsettling echo on the stranger's face, like a face on the wrong person.
The body he was using held the door for us. "Come inside, out of the heat."
Rocco and I looked at each other; then we lowered our hands, slowly, and went for the door. Neither of us looked back; we wanted to give our eyes as much time as possible to adjust to the darker interior of the club.
The dancers were huddled in the center of the room, at the chairs where the customers usually sat. They looked up hopefully as we entered, but the jinn with the knives was in front of us, and that got our attention. It was tempting to have Rocco say the words now, but I was certain if we did that, he'd kill some of his other hostages. Our goal was to get them all out, not just part, so we waited for a better moment. I admit that staring into the nothingness that was holding all those blades was hard. Turning our backs on it was harder, but we followed the man.
I felt the air move close to me and jerked back instinctively. I felt the passage of wind. A different jinn had tried to touch me. The man said, "You avoided his touch; not many humans are fast enough or psychic enough for that, but then you aren't human, are you?"
I ignored the question, but I swear that the jinn's attention wasn't as neutral now. I'd almost say hostile, but maybe that was just nerves talking. Maybe.
Rocco whispered, "I don't think they like you now."
"You feel it, too."
"Oh, yes."
The man opened the door and held it for us, with a smile. I moved ahead of Rocco, as we'd discussed. Vittorio wanted me alive; he didn't have the same feeling about the sergeant. So he had to bite his pride and let me take the most chances. Besides, we needed him alive to say the words over the jinn.
The back room was as I'd seen it through Vittorio's eyes. Rick and Brianna were on their feet, arms stretched to the ceiling, where they were chained. Brianna was crying; her robe had come undone, and she was as naked underneath as she had been that first night when Ted and I were here. She stared at me over the tape that cut across her face. I could feel her terror coming off her in waves. It stirred the beasts inside me, and I told them to be quiet. For once, they listened. Rick wasn't afraid, he was pissed. In fact, he was so angry, I wondered why he hadn't shifted yet.
Ava was near Rick. She had a knife in her hand and played it along his skin as I watched. She didn't cut him, just caressed him with it. There were weretigers scattered throughout the room. Their energy hummed through the air like wires stripped down, so you could feel the bite of it if you got too close. Most of them looked blank, as if waiting for instructions. How many people could he control at once, and how well?
I forced myself to see the room slowly, and not go straight to Requiem. I didn't want to give Vittorio any more reason to hurt him. The more I cared, the more danger Requiem was in.
But Vittorio wasn't standing by the table; he was sitting on the edge of the bed with Max and Bibiana. He'd stripped from the waist up so that his scars were very, very visible. They'd transferred Bibiana to the bed, she was tied with her hands above her head, around one bedpost, so that her body crossed one of Max's arms, where his one arm was still tied to the one post. Her feet were chained to one of the bed legs, but she was short enough that her legs didn't cross her husband's body at the legs. She looked pale and delicate, a cliche princess waiting for rescue. Max was missing his shirt. Apparently, we'd had a little striptease while they waited, but he had kept his word. There was no new damage to their bodies, just some of their clothes.
"We're here. Now what?"
"I want what I've wanted since I invited you to Vegas with my gift."
"You mean the human head in a box?"
He smiled happily and nodded.
"Next time, just send a box of chocolates," I said.
"Oh, but any man can do that. I thought my gift would be unique."
I smiled, and could feel that it wasn't a good smile. "Actually, I did receive a head in a basket once, as a gift."
The smile was just gone, like it hadn't existed. The old ones could do that-expression, then nothing in the blink of an eye. "Well, then, Anita, I will have to do something to prove myself unique among your admirers."
I would have given a lot to take back that smart-ass comment. It had been true, but I could still have kept it to myself.
"Oh, trust me, this invitation was unique."
"No, Anita, you're right, I must try harder." He was angry with me, as if I'd insulted him. "Let us play a game."
"We came here to negotiate for the release of hostages," Rocco said.
"And so we shall, Sergeant." He patted Max's bare stomach. "Come closer so you can see."
We hesitated.
"Here is the first rule. When you make me repeat myself, something happens to one of your hostages."
There was a sound from the other side of the room. Ava was carving a new cut down Rick's chest. He didn't scream, but a small sound had escaped him. Ava raised the blade to her mouth and licked the blood delicately away.
I turned back to Vittorio.
"You are not frightened or even impressed. I take it you've seen something similar before?"
I had, actually, more than once. Out loud, I said, "I don't know what reaction you want from me; just tell me and I'll try to give it to you."
"What is the first rule?" he asked.
"That if we make you repeat your requests, you'll have someone hurt."
"Here is the second rule. I will offer you a chance to do something pleasant; if you refuse, then I will do something painful to the person instead. Is that clear enough, officers?"
I said, "Crystal."
Rocco said, "Yes."
"Come over beside the bed, both of you."
We did it this time, no hesitating. We stood at the end of the bed on its raised dais, looking at Max and his wife, and the smiling sociopath beside them.
"Anita, give Max a kiss."
"If I don't?" I asked.
He drew a blade out from underneath the covers. "I will bleed him; one cut for one refusal."
I took a breath in, then out. It seemed a small request, but I was betting that the requests wouldn't stay small. "Okay, but if we do this, then you release one of the hostages."
"For a kiss, it would have to be some kiss."
I shrugged.
"If I refuse to free someone, are you prepared to watch me slice up the Master of the City?"
I thought furiously, and just didn't know what to do. Vittorio made a shallow cut across Max's stomach.
"I didn't say no."
"You broke rule number one. You hesitated. Now I'll ask you again: kiss Max or I cut him."
I just went to the bed, walked wide around Vittorio, and climbed up beside Max. I looked down into his blue eyes and said, "Sorry, Max." I leaned over and laid a kiss across his taped mouth.
"Well, you did do what I asked, but that is hardly worth the release of a hostage." He tapped the blade against his leg.
"Do you want me to kiss him better?"
"Take off the tape, and show me some of that talent I know you have."
Bibiana made a sound through her tape. I looked across at her. "Sorry, Bibiana." I took the tape off Max's mouth.
"He's going to kill us anyway, you know that."
"Now, Max, what did I say about talking?"
"You said no talking back to you. I'm talking to Anita."
"True." Tap, tap, tap went the blade against his leg. "Well, Anita, kiss him like you mean it, and I'll let your sergeant watch one of the dancers leave."
I bent over and kissed him full on the mouth. His mouth was still under mine. I looked back at Vittorio. "A dancer, freed."
"No."
"What was wrong with this kiss?"
"Kiss him like you mean it." There was no humor in him now, just a seriousness that I thought was more dangerous.
I stared down at Max. He was mostly bald, and round of face, but his biceps were huge, his shoulders deeply muscled. He'd begun life as an enforcer, and he'd stayed in shape for it. I could see his strength, but he just didn't do it for me. I liked my men pretty and a little refined. Max was like a bully-big, scary, and nothing delicate about him-but I bent over him one more time. I touched his face, closed my eyes, and kissed him. Delicate, at first, then with more pressure, letting my arms slide over the hard, muscled bareness of him, and putting some body English into it. Max was absolutely still against me. Bibiana was making a high-pitched sound through the tape.
I turned to Vittorio.
"Very well, one dancer, but I want the next effort to be better, or the deal is off. Ava will choose who goes free, and Sergeant-Rocco, is it?-will watch from the door that the dancer gets away."
Ava went out, Rocco watched from the door, and apparently they let a dancer go because Rocco came back nodding yes.
"I'll give you a two-for-one deal," Vittorio said. "Let the little dancer over there give you a lap dance; if it's good, I'll free her and another dancer."
I walked over to Brianna without hesitation, but once I got there, I asked him, "What do you want to learn from making me do this?"
"Maybe I'm just like all men and have my little lesbian fantasies."
"I don't know what to say to that."
"Sit in the chair by Ava."
I sat in the chair; it didn't hurt me, and I didn't want to give them another excuse to hurt anyone. "Untie the girl."
Ava did what she was told. Brianna took her own tape off her mouth, then looked at me. Her makeup had run down her face like black tears. She rubbed at her wrists and took a shaking step toward me in her spike-heeled sandals.
"I'm offering you the best tip you will ever get, Brianna. Give the marshal a lap dance, and if it's good enough, I'll set you and another of your friends free."
Brianna took another staggering step toward me. I thought, She's not going to be able to do it, she's too afraid. He must have thought so, too, because he said, "If you refuse, or don't do a good job of it, I will use the torch on that soft, pink, perfect skin." He almost sounded bored.
Brianna dropped her robe to the ground and was in front of me. "Wait," Vittorio said. We both looked at him. "Sergeant, take Anita's place; let her dance for you."
Rocco just started walking toward us. I got up, he sat down, and Brianna started to dance. She had no music, but whatever was playing in her head was something with a beat. She started a little jerky, but then closed her eyes and found her rhythm. It was a nice rhythm. She moved her body in waves up and down Rocco-who had a death grip on the chair he was sitting in, because the rules are the dancers can touch you, but you can't touch the dancers.
Brianna ended up in his lap, straddling him, grinding her most intimate parts over the front of his pants. His face looked grim, and I was betting he was trying to think of baseball, taxes, dead kittens, anything but what the woman in his lap was doing.
I felt both sorry for him and happy it wasn't me.
With a last writhe, she bowed herself backward, completely, her legs wrapped around Rocco and the chair itself. She bent back in a graceful arch, her high, tight breasts spilling backward, proving yet again that they were real.
Vittorio actually clapped. "Very good, and the sergeant has held his composure admirably. Flee, little dancer. Anita, watch her go to safety; I don't think our dear sergeant can walk just yet."
Brianna picked up her robe and went for the door as fast as her high heels could take her. "Pick another dancer to go out with you, Brianna." She picked up the pace. I kept the door open and watched her go to the nearest dancer, grab her by the hand, and run out the door with her.
I did a quick head count. We had six dancers left. Six, and then we could get rid of the jinn and try to kill Vittorio. Just six more.
"I make the dancers entertain me before I kill them, Anita. I don't usually let them go, though."
"So this is part of your... usual." I stopped there because any word I could come up with sounded too much like an insult.
"Yes." He got up and walked to Rick. "I could control him, but only in part. I can't control him or Victor completely as I can the others. They are too dominant, too much tiger. I could make either of them my servant through marks, but I cannot own them as I own the ones in the corner." He moved so fast, it was barely visible.
Rocco said, "He mind-fucked me."
"No, he didn't," I said, "he's just that fast."
Vittorio was standing back where he started, by the time the blood started trickling down Rick's stomach.
"You didn't ask us to do anything," I said.
"So I didn't. Ava, let another whore go."
Ava just went to the door, and I watched as she tapped another woman. The woman ran out the door in a flashing square of sunlight. Five left.
"Anita, drink blood from the wound I just made on the weretiger."
I didn't like this one, but I went to Rick and knelt in front of him. The cut was just above the pants line, so I could reach. I was betting the placement hadn't been accidental.
I put my hands on his belt to steady myself, then leaned up and licked the wound. It was blood, hot, salty, metallic. I put my mouth against the wound and sucked. It was sweet copper pennies on my tongue. But it was more than that, it was belly meat, soft, above the muscles, and that feeling that just underneath were soft, tender things. My hands locked around the back of his body, and I fought to only suck the wound, not bite down, not take more flesh. I drew back from the wound with a shaky breath. I felt dizzy, disoriented. I realized for the first time that though I'd fed on all the men this morning, Vittorio had taken all the energy of it. Beyond that, he'd taken more of my energy, so I was actually behind the curve. Fuck.
I got to my feet, having to steady myself against Rick's body as I stood. I wiped my mouth with my hand, and knew I needed a rag or something to get the blood.
"Most people would have hesitated before drinking a lycanthrope's blood," Vittorio said.
"If we hesitate, you hurt them."
"Ava, another dancer." This time Rocco watched the hostage leave. Only four now.
He paced in a circle, tapping the blade against his leg. "I must come up with things that displease you, or I will run out of hostages before I get to hurt anyone again." He turned to me with a huge smile. It tugged at the burned side of his face, so that the smile didn't quite work. "Suck on something else; you can pick any of the men, just bring them. To give you more incentive, I'll use the holy water on your fair friend again if you refuse."
I looked from Rick to Requiem. "May I ask a question?"
"You may."
"Has Requiem fed?"
"No."
"Then you know he can't go orally or any other way until he's taken blood."
"Then you are left with only two choices unless you wish to include the sergeant."
I fought not to look as uncomfortable as that extra suggestion made me. "Max hasn't fed this morning either, so it has to be Rick. You're only pretending to give me choices."
"Then do him." He was standing by Requiem now, and I realized that there was a line of holy water vials on the table above his head.
I went to Rick and started undoing his belt. Rick made a small protesting noise. I took a breath in, and blew it out. I whispered, "It's not a fate worse than death, Rick."
He went still in his chains and watched me undo his pants. I wasn't sure if the patient watching was less uncomfortable to me, or the struggles and noises. I got his pants unzipped and worked his pants down over his ass; I wanted the zipper out of the way both for his safety and mine. I'd kept his underwear in place, and only moved it out of the way once I was kneeling in front of him. He was as lovely below the waist as above, and there were no cuts here yet; I was hoping to keep it that way.
I looked up the line of his body and found him watching me. His blue eyes were angry, yes, but there was something else in them now, too. Apparently, he'd taken my not a fate worse than death to heart, because there was that darkness in his eyes that every man gets at about this time. I took him in my hands and lowered him to my mouth. He was already erect enough that I had to bring him down to me, because he was pressed against the front of his own body. He slipped inside my mouth, as full and smooth and good as any. I liked giving oral sex. I liked the feel of it in my mouth, and the look on a man's face while you did it. I liked the sounds they made, and the way their bodies reacted. I gave myself completely to the man in front of me, and the sensation of my mouth going over and around him. I kissed and sucked and licked, using my hand on him to guide and caress and squeeze. I let myself spill into the sex, and there was nothing else. I glanced up and found his eyes wide. His breathing quickened. He was so hard now, except for the soft smoothness of the tip of him. His body spasmed in the chains, and it wasn't pain this time. He closed his eyes, head flung back, and I worked him in and out of my mouth quicker, in and out, in and out, as fast as I could. I tasted the first hint that he was close; the texture changed, ever so slightly, like a preview of what was to come.
Vittorio's voice. "Two dancers, if you let him go on your breasts."
I didn't hesitate. I just yanked my shirt over my head and let it fall. I held him in my hand, working him, keeping him close; I didn't want to lose ground. I had to let go to undo my bra and throw it over my shoulder to the floor with the shirt. Then I plunged my mouth back over him, cupping, and playing, and teasing until I felt him tighten in my mouth. I moved off him just in time, stroking him with my hand as he spilled upward, outward, in a thick, warm rain of it. It spattered across my shoulders, my breasts, and I threw my head back, thrust my breasts more forward, and it also kept it out of my eyes.
Rick spasmed above me, rattling the chains, making small noises against the gag.
Vittorio was huddled against the counter; he looked at me, at Rick, at the show of it, with a look of eager horror.
I heard Ava and Rocco go to the door to let more of the hostages go. I started crawling toward the vampire, with my breasts hanging down, and the warm liquid beginning to drip. He pushed himself to his feet and screamed, "Kill them!"
My skin ran with that sibilant magic, and I knew that Rocco had said the words, and the jinn were gone. Ava screamed, and I risked a glance to find that Ava had buried her knife in Rocco's side, but he had her wrist, and I knew what he could do with that seemingly innocent touch.
The glance was a mistake. Vittorio used that blinding speed to be up and at Requiem's side. I couldn't move fast enough, but I had one power that was fast as thought. I opened the ardeur and thrust it like a weapon at the vampire. It might not have worked except he'd just had me do one of his fantasies. The idea of me and sex was already firm in his mind. He wanted to look.
I didn't run. I stalked, I writhed, I made everything work, and he couldn't look away. He was still staring at me when I wrapped my hand around his and cupped the vial of holy water, sending it to shatter harmlessly on the floor.
"I will ruin him," he whispered.
"That's not what you want."
"I can't have what I want," he said.
I put his empty hands on my breasts, and held his gaze with mine. His hands started smoothing the liquid across my breasts, as if he didn't realize he was doing it. "Your eyes," he said, "your eyes are full of fire, like cognac diamonds."
"Say it," I whispered.
He leaned his face downward, as I leaned upward. "Say it," I whispered.
"Release, I want release."
His mouth met mine, and we kissed. One moment it was gentle, the next he fed at my mouth, so hard his fangs cut my lips and filled our mouths with the sweet taste of blood. Blood made my hungers rise, but it was too late for any of the others; all that was left was the ardeur. I had denied it, tried to cage it, control it, but in that moment I understood why kings had offered Belle Morte their crowns, why women had offered everything for one more night with Jean-Claude; I understood what it meant to be Belle Morte's line. The ardeur wasn't something I had to feed to stay alive, it was the way I fed. It was my blood.
Vittorio made small eager noises against my mouth, his hands eager on my body. I felt the growing pressure of it build inside him, and I felt the ardeur mingle with the power of the beasts, all of it so warm and alive, so not vampire. His breathing quickened, his body tensed, and I drove the ardeur and the power of the tigers into him, like a seeking hand, and gave him, for a moment, a taste of it. I gave him the shadow of what he had lost, and his mouth tore away from mine in a scream, as his body spasmed against mine, his hands clutching at me. He collapsed to the floor beside the table, taking me, still in his arms, to the floor with him. He was crying and laughing. "How did you do that?"
"I am Belle Morte's line. I belong to Jean-Claude. We are meant to bring pleasure."
His hand searched the floor, and I knew what he meant to do before I saw the flash of silver. I rolled away from him, but he came for me, and he was simply too fast.
Then a white blur crashed into his side, and a second joined it. The two weretigers grappled with the vampire, and his speed did no good because they were already touching him. I pushed backward so I could see the bed, and the chains were empty. I didn't know where Max was, but I knew where his wife and Rick were. The other weretigers spilled out of the corner where they'd been frozen. I thought for one awful moment they meant to attack us, but they went for the fight and Vittorio.
Max appeared by the kitchenette. He handed me a towel. I stood up and began to wipe myself off. We both kept our eyes on the fight, but it was a blur of claws and teeth.
"You mind-fucked him, and that was the weakness I needed. The tigers are mine again."
Rocco came to me, holding pressure on his side wound. Ava lay behind him on the floor, staring sightless at the ceiling.
"How did it feel?" I asked.
"Good," he said. "She wasn't being controlled. She betrayed you, Max."
"I know. She felt we treated her as a second-class tiger, and she was right."
Blood sprayed out over the room. "That was arterial spray," I said.
"Fight's over," Max said.
I dropped the towel onto the floor, picked up my shirt and bra from the floor, and went to Requiem. I jumped up on the table and undid his chains. He ripped off his own gag. I hugged him and he gasped. I touched the burns, and felt my eyes grow hot. "I'm so sorry."
"You saved me."
I could only nod.
"Get dressed, Anita," Rocco said. "I've got to call the cavalry in and warn them that the tigers are on our side." I looked where he was looking, and found the white tigers, some in tigerman form, covered in blood. Vittorio was in pieces on the ground. Now that he was dead, they'd stopped feeding. Vampire is bitter meat, so I'm told.
I dressed and promised myself a shower later. Max offered to take Requiem to his own underground resting place until nightfall. I kissed Requiem, and turned toward the police as they spilled in through the door behind Rocco, but it was all over. This time Edward and the guys had missed the party.
Epilogue
REQUIEM SPENT THE rest of the day in the downstairs area with Max. Rocco and I had a lot of 'splaining to do. We left out some things. Ava attacked him and he was forced to use the maximum of his power. He probably could have stopped sooner, but why? She was dead either way because of the warrant.
Bibiana asked, in private, "You gave him his first pleasure in centuries; why did he attack you?"
Max and I exchanged looks, and he said, "He knew he'd do anything to have that feeling again. He knew that Anita owned him lock, stock, and barrel, and he couldn't have that."
"He'd rather have power than the pleasure?" she asked.
"He knew it would be a choice," Max said. "I think Anita's leash may be shorter than the one you keep me on." They had laughed good-naturedly and hugged.
Requiem suggested that we cut the burns away the next night, and try to heal it with sex, as we'd done with other fresh wounds in the past. It worked. He's perfect again. It makes the idea of trying it on Asher possible. But we'll start with a little piece of skin, just in case the deeper burns make it not work.
Denis-Luc St. John's sister never gave him my message. He called, upset that he'd missed it all, but his sister wasn't sorry-he was alive. I kind of agree with his sister.
Lieutenant Grimes said that if I ever get tired of being a vampire hunter, to let him know; I could test and see if I could become their first female member. I was flattered, really flattered. I actually didn't say no. I can't see living in Vegas, but I could see working on a SWAT unit like theirs. Their pilot program of using practitioners is successful enough that other cities are talking about it-not St. Louis so far, but I have hopes. Would I really give up hunting vampires? I'd still help hunt them, but the idea of working on a unit where the idea is to save lives and not take them is pretty appealing.
I took Crispin and Domino home with me to St. Louis. The redhead, I sent home to his clan. Their queen has requested a visit in a neutral city, since I keep poaching her males-one of them being her son, the first one, Alex. So far the red tigers don't seem as affected by me as the white or the black. Sebastian went back to his life. He is drawn to me, but he doesn't want to go back into servitude to anyone. I don't blame him.
Cynric was a different problem. Yes, he was legal in Vegas, and yes, his legal guardians, Max and Bibiana, were fine with it, so no court charges, but he is besotted with me. It's worse than Crispin, because he had fewer internal protections. He was just so young, so open, and because the tigers, or at least the white clan, try for monogamy, I was his first. The thought of a massive ardeur feed, with a group orgy thrown in, as anyone's first time just makes me ill.
They're keeping him in Vegas for at least a year, because next birthday he'll be legal in Missouri. I told Bibiana it doesn't matter, he'd still be a child, but she said, "You have made him your tiger to call, Anita, you must take responsibility for that."
"I didn't mind-fuck him, Vittorio did."
"But you are who he pines for."
I made the mistake of asking, "What do you want me to do about him?"
"Let him come visit next year."
I told her we'd discuss it, but really, not only no, but hell no.
The SWAT operators in the hospital are all awake. They found a girlfriend, or wife, or child, or parent to give them a kiss of love. It all worked, though one operator had never married, parents dead, and so they finally brought his dog in; one good face-licking later and his master was up and around. Ain't love grand?
Jean-Claude, Asher, and I have talked about what happened in Vegas, with the ardeur and Vittorio at the end. We agree with Max about why he attacked me, but why did sex disrupt all that ancient vampire ability? Jean-Claude finally said, "Everyone believes that Belle Morte's line is weak because our power is love, but really, ma petite, what is more powerful than love?" I could have argued that I'd seen hate kill love, or violence, or... but in the end, maybe he's right. I know that Vittorio wasn't beaten by power. He was beaten by the offer of love. " 'Twas beauty that killed the beast," the old movie said. 'Twas love that killed this one, or maybe lust, but sometimes I'm not sure there's as much difference as we like to think between the two. Not if you mean it.
I wasn't lying when I offered the ardeur to Vittorio. In that moment, I wanted to give him back what he'd lost because I could feel his need, feel the great sorrow of it that had turned to such rage. I wanted to hold him and make it better, and I did, and he tried to kill me for it. Men-who knows what they really want?