Anita Blake 24 - Dead Ice (69 page)

Read Anita Blake 24 - Dead Ice Online

Authors: Laurell K. Hamilton

BOOK: Anita Blake 24 - Dead Ice
3.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

I whispered, “I know.”

“But I can feel what you’re feeling, and you don’t want to kill him. You’ve just gone quiet in your head, but your emotions are waiting outside that quiet. You don’t want the emotional fallout if you killed Asher, Anita. I think he’s a manipulative shit, but you love him, and Jean-Claude loves him more.”

“So not worth it,” I said, each word enunciated carefully between almost gritted teeth. I wasn’t really looking at Kane anymore, just at that point on his head where the bullet would go if I finished this.

“No, he’s not,” Nicky said, voice soft, and closer to me, but his closeness didn’t make me want to turn the gun on him and protect myself. Asher I didn’t trust not to do something stupid, but Nicky—he wouldn’t be stupid. He might be violent, but it would be on purpose, with a better reason than not thinking things through.

I drew back from the empty quiet in my head, and the pinpoint concentration that had narrowed down to the aim of my gun and my target, and realized that the energy that had been rolling off Kane was gone. I blinked and saw his brown eyes staring up at me. He’d pushed his beast back in its box. He was still holding his damaged leg, but he was trying to be as still as the injury would let him be, as if he were afraid to move too much, afraid of what I’d do if he did.

“Good,” I said, softly, “very good.”

“What’s good?” Nicky asked.

I eased my finger off the trigger and raised the gun toward the ceiling. I kept looking at Kane’s face, though. “Did you see your death in my face, Kane?”

“I thought you were going to kill me.”

“So did I,” I said. I put the Browning back in its holster at my side. I felt light and empty, not bad, but it was odd. I didn’t usually get to this point and not shoot someone. I felt weird, as if the process were incomplete. I’d tried to explain to friends the difference between what I did and what other cops did, and that was it. Most cops go whole careers and never draw their gun, or if they do, they still think more about saving lives than taking them, but I didn’t. When I drew my gun I almost always got to use it, and using it, for me, meant someone was dead. Legally, lawfully, no review board, no questions asked—dead. I was the Executioner long before I was Jean-Claude’s
ma petite
.

“Get him out of my sight. Let him heal, but I don’t need to see him do it.”

More guards came through the drapes, as if they’d been waiting for some signal that they could enter without spooking me into shooting Kane. They got their hands under his arms and helped him to his feet. He couldn’t stand, so in the end they formed a cradle with their arms and two of them carried him out of sight—toward medical, I guess. I honestly didn’t care, as long as it was away from me.

I turned toward Asher, looked into that beautiful face, remembered the feel of his kiss, his body, his strength. “I don’t know what is broken inside you, but if you don’t work the issue it’s going to get you, or Kane, or both of you, killed.”

“You will kill us?”

“No, not if you don’t make me, but someone will. Narcissus would have if he’d seen you before Jean-Claude talked him down. You’re away from Belle’s court for the first time in a century, and it’s like you think none of us will hurt you.” I stepped up close enough that the oversized blue shirt brushed against me. It was too close, if I really thought he’d hurt me. I stared up at him, tried to see some comprehension in that gorgeous face, but he was hiding his emotions too hard, and it was like staring at a work of art. You could admire its beauty, but you couldn’t talk to it.

He started to put his arm around me; I thought he was going to kiss me, but I put my hand on his chest and stepped back out of arm’s reach. “The last time you kissed me during one of these little disagreements you damn near ate my lips off my face.”

“I am sorrier than I know how to express for that, Anita.”

“You’re sorry now, but in the heat of the moment you don’t think. Because we’re not cruel like Belle Morte you think we’re weak, but never mistake kindness for weakness, Asher. It’s not the same thing.”

“I understand,” he said.

“Do you? Do you really? Because I don’t think you do. I don’t know how to teach you this lesson without really hurting you. Is that what it takes to get you to behave like a thinking person? Do you only respond to cruelty?”

“No, no, that will not be necessary,” he said, voice as empty as he could make it.

“Look around you, Asher; we aren’t vampires that are bored with centuries of life so that we play at cruel games like children pulling the wings off flies. How Belle did her power plays was professional, but how she ran her court was indulgent amateur shit. I have enough memories to know that she wasted so many people, so much potential that could have helped her, and helped people around her. Jean-Claude regrets that waste and works to make his court different, better. Is there any regret in you, Asher?”

“Yes, of course, I regret some of what I’ve done over the centuries, we all do, even Belle.”

“She regrets losing your and Jean-Claude’s adoration, I’ve felt that when she tried to invade my head, but the only other thing she seems to regret is when things don’t go her way. Still, she’s far more practical than you are.”

“She is also more cruel.”

“Yeah, she is, but she never lets indulging her cruelty get in the way of business, and you let everything get in your way. If you had made Narcissus your animal to call you could have really brought something to the table, powerwise, but instead you threw it away on a whim to please your lover, and never gave a thought to what might happen afterward. It’s like you’re stuck at about fifteen and think nothing bad will happen to you.”

“I have had bad things happen, Anita.”

“I know, which makes your behavior all the more confusing to me.”

“Ma petite . . .”
Jean-Claude came to us, but I put a hand up to stop him from coming closer.

“No, I’m pissed at you, too.”

“Why?” He looked genuinely surprised.

“Where were your bodyguards? Everyone else had guards with them, but not you. You are the motherfucking king of America, and you know that he’s dangerous when he’s like this. You should have had personal protection with you.”

“He was not allowed guards . . .”

“Stop talking,” I said.

He gave me narrow eyes.

“Be angry with me, that’s fine, but you have to start treating Asher like he is, not like you want him to be. He is childlike, in that throwing-temper-tantrums way. He breaks things and regrets it afterward, but the damage is done. I don’t want you to be part of that damage one day, Jean-Claude.”

“I would like to say that I would never hurt Jean-Claude, but Anita is too right. I do not think when I am in certain . . . moods. I don’t know why I do such things.”

“Then talk to that therapist we found for you, and figure it out, before you force me to kill you. Nicky’s right, Asher, it would kill something in me to do it, and Jean-Claude would never forgive me, but mark me on this, Asher.”

I went to him and touched his face, made sure he was looking down at me with all that golden hair and those eyes, that kissable mouth. I stared up into all that beauty and I said the truth. “Mark me on this, Asher, if you ever do anything that damages Jean-Claude’s power structure, or Micah’s work with the Coalition, without consulting them first, then you will be punished, and if you won’t take good treatment, I’ll find someone to give you bad treatment. If the only way you learn is by having the lesson carved into your skin, or painted in blood, or echoed in screams of pain . . . we can do that.”

“That will not be necessary,” he said quietly, and very slowly, very carefully, as if waiting for me to protest, he put his hand over mine where I touched his face.

“I hope not, because if pain doesn’t work, the only thing left is death. Do you understand that?” I spoke slowly, as carefully as his hand had touched mine.

“I do now,” he said.

“Good, good. Kane’s afraid of me now and that will help, but you aren’t afraid of me. I can’t make you afraid of me without damaging our relationship more than you already have today.”

“I am sorry, Anita, truly. May I kiss you?”

“No, I don’t want your touch to make me forget this moment, and I don’t want you to think a little sex and bondage will fix it all, because it won’t. We may get back to that, but that doesn’t make all this okay, it just means I’ll have decided it’s not a deal killer.”

“Are you . . . would you refuse me?”

“Right now the thought of letting you tie Nathaniel and me down, and being at your mercies, and trusting that you’d honor our safewords, just doesn’t seem like a good bet.”

“And for that, I am even more sorry. I value you both, I love you both.”

“Then act like it, Asher, because right now I’m not feeling very valued, or loved.” I took my hand away from his face, his touch, and stepped back.

Nathaniel came to me looking handsome in a black suit tailored to his body like a European glove, lavender shirt and a black tie with tiny purple fleur-de-lis. It made his skin look darker, his auburn hair tucked back in a long braid redder, his eyes almost purple, though maybe that was him being angry. He took my hand in his and said, “I hope you can earn back our trust, because I’ll miss your body if you don’t.” Not
I’ll miss you
, but
I’ll miss your body
. I thought that was interesting phrasing; apparently so did Asher.

“My body, but not me; then I have been a bad dominant to you, for you should love me as I love you, my flower-eyed boy.” He touched Nathaniel’s face, but all he got was a very cold look from that handsome face.

“You’ve been so into Kane that the rest of us haven’t really counted for much,” Nathaniel said.

Asher let his untouched hand fall back to his side. “I did not realize that I had neglected all of you.”

I said, “You and I pretty much just have bondage sex with Nathaniel, and sometimes without him, but I’m just your bottom, not your submissive. Submissive needs more caretaking.”

“I will do better by all of you, I swear it.” He looked at Jean-Claude and Richard standing off to one side.

“Does Dev count in all that?” Nathaniel asked.

Asher looked past us to the guards still waiting at the edges. Dev had stayed with them, not moving forward even as far as Nicky had. I wondered if he’d stayed back because he’d been ordered to, or because he didn’t trust himself not to hurt Kane, or Asher. It would have been the perfect excuse.

Asher looked at Dev, and it was . . .
dismissive
was the only word I had for it. It must have cut Dev to the heart. “I am committed to Kane now. I will be keeping the relationships that give me things he cannot, but what Dev and I have is too . . . standard. I could not come up with a need he met that Kane, Jean-Claude, you, and Nathaniel did not.”

My chest ached just hearing him dismiss Dev’s love like that. I realized I was feeling some of the bleedover of emotion from my golden tiger. He was hurting too badly to be able to shield himself off completely, and in that moment I didn’t want him to. What good is being able to sense someone else’s emotions if you can’t help them cope with them sometimes?

“God, Asher, aren’t anyone’s feelings real to you but your own?” Sin said it from the far side of the room, where other guards had forced him back from the potential danger. He practiced fighting, but he wasn’t a guard, and when the emergency happened they’d treated him like what he was, a guardee.

Sin went to Dev and hugged him. He was almost as tall as the six-foot-three guard, but there was still something very young in his wanting to hug and make it all better. Dev startled and tried to stay in stoic bodyguard mode, and then he hugged Sin back, blond head bowing to mingle with the dark blue. They broke apart and it was Sin who had tears trailing down his face, as if he were crying tears Dev couldn’t, or wouldn’t, shed.

Micah went to him next and offered his hand, and then did that one-armed guy hug, which was a little awkward since Dev was about a foot taller, but I heard Micah say, “You deserve someone who treats you better than this, Dev.”

Nicky hugged him next, and then ended with his hand on the back of Dev’s neck, underneath his longish blond hair. Nicky kept his hand on the man’s neck, so they touched foreheads, faces apart enough that I could see Nicky’s lips move as he said something—I couldn’t hear what he said, but whatever it was it made Dev smile.

Domino hugged him, too, and just said, “Dude, I’m sorry.”

Dev said, “Thanks, brother.”

Nathaniel hugged Micah, and said something so quietly that like with Nicky I could only see his lips moving, but heard nothing. Micah nodded, then motioned me over. I went to them, taking his hand. We put our heads together and Micah said, “Nathaniel wants permission to be with Dev as friends with benefits.”

“I thought the two of them had been talking about that, but I thought you were against it,” I said.

“Was I jealous at first, yes, but I can’t, or don’t want to do certain things with Nathaniel. I’ve learned that I don’t know how I feel about some things until we try, but I promise not to be mad at Dev for the one night even if I can’t deal with more.”

Nathaniel looked at me. “Are you okay with it?”

“I think so, I mean I’m already able to have sex with both of you, and I know how much you miss certain guy-on-guy sex from being in the bedroom with you and Asher, so if Micah is okay with it, then I don’t see a problem. Should we ask Jean-Claude?”

“None of us are sleeping with him but you,” Micah said, “and you already have his okay for sex with Dev.”

“Dev may be negotiating with Jean-Claude for something,” I said.

Micah sighed. “We’re going to have to ask, then.”

“Another spontaneous romantic moment spoiled by poly negotiations,” I said.

“Better than not talking about it and having it all blow up in our faces,” Micah said.

Nathaniel nodded. We asked Jean-Claude and Dev to join us by the fireplace, and we asked. Yeah, at first it’s totally awkward to ask such blunt questions, but it’s pretty much the only way to run a poly group, especially one with so many moving parts. Asher had just demonstrated what happens when you don’t talk to the people in your lives, so fuck that, let’s talk. So we did.

Other books

Husband Under Construction by Karen Templeton
Devil's Due by Robert Stanek
Blood of Ambrose by James Enge
The Value of Vulnerability by Roberta Pearce
5:45 to Suburbia by Packer, Vin
Darwin's Children by Greg Bear