Anita Blake - Bullet - Part 18
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Part 18

"I know what he was and how he earned his money when I met him," I said.

"See, a guy would be p.i.s.sed even if he knew. You won't let me be the guy, but in the end, you're not the guy, either."

"f.u.c.k this," I said, and moved toward the door. I didn't turn my back on him, but I was done.

Haven suddenly moved toward me. I had enough time, or speed, to be out of most of his reach, but he grabbed my wrist. We ended with me crouched back away from him, and him with one hand on my wrist. His power trembled down my skin in a hot wash that closed off my throat and made my lioness gaze up with dark, amber eyes. She growled, and it trickled up my throat and out between my lips.

He closed his eyes and a shudder pa.s.sed through him from top to bottom. He opened his eyes and they were already lion amber. "f.u.c.k me," he said.

I shook my head. "No."

He tightened his hand enough to let me feel how very strong he was. "No weapons, no guards, no boyfriends, you can't stop me."

I waited for my pulse to speed up, to be afraid, because he was probably right. I'd fight, but in the end in a fair fight there was nothing fair about someone outweighing me by over a hundred pounds of muscle and dwarfing me by nearly a foot of height. I'd seen him fight, and one on one he'd win unless I got very, very lucky. But the lion in me growled again. She wasn't afraid of him. Why? Then I had a thought.

I stopped pulling against his hand and just stood up. He moved back half a step as if he hadn't expected it. "I can't stop you doing what? You don't want just my body, Haven. You want me. You want me to want and love you. You can't win that by rape."

"Why can't I just want your body?" he asked.

I took a deep breath and let it out slow. "You're the one who keeps pushing for more of a relationship, not me."

I watched his lion eyes slide back to blue. "You've turned me into the girl." He let go of my wrist and stepped back. "Get out, get out, Anita, before I change my mind."

I backed up until I felt the door under my hands. I had to glance back to find the doork.n.o.b, and suddenly he was standing in front of me. He pressed his body against mine, pinning me against the door, his hand on one arm, and only my moving fast kept him from grabbing the other arm.

My pulse was in my throat, and I couldn't hide that he'd scared me. He leaned his face in over my hair and sniffed the air. "You smell like fear and s.e.x and food. You smell good."

My voice was a little shaky as I said, "You smell like sweat and other people's s.e.x."

He pulled me to him, pinning my arm between us. He let me keep the other arm as if it didn't matter. "Then you should feel right at home." His body pressed me close. My physical options were vanishing, but there were other options.

"Do you know why I haven't rolled you the way I did Nicky?" I asked.

I felt his whole body hesitate. I'd surprised him. Good. "You like Nicky better," he said.

"No, I like you better. I stole Nicky's free will. He lives to please me. I think that's kind of creepy actually. Auggie told me I should roll you, but I liked you too much to steal you away from yourself."

"Why tell me this now?" He whispered it against my hair, and I could feel that his body wasn't entirely unhappy to be pressed up against me.

"Don't make what I did to Nicky my only option, Haven."

"I'm a Rex. You couldn't roll me like that," he said.

"Are you sure? Are you sure enough to bet everything you are that I can't make you into my bride?"

He went very still against me, and then he was halfway across the room in a blur of speed that was breathtaking. I leaned against the door for a heartbeat and then groped for the doork.n.o.b without looking away from him. I opened it and stepped through, still keeping my gaze on him as if that would keep him from coming for me again.

The cool air of the hallway seemed to help chase some of that hot energy back. "I'm going to clean up," he said, and he didn't look at me.

"You do that," I said, and I closed the door slowly but firmly between us.

CHAPTER 21

I WAS SEARCHING through the debris for my weapons and cell phone. I'd found a lot of guns, none of them mine. Haven barging in on me had really, really made me want my weapons back. But I wasn't the only one who had lost weapons in the rush to strip, and I was finding a lot of dangerous toys. Nathaniel helped me look, his hair freshly washed and trailing down his body in a dark wet ma.s.s. He'd put on a pair of cutoffs that looked like they'd begun life as a pair of jeans. Micah was in the shower now. We were cleaning up in order of who woke up. The six of us in triumvirates had woken first, and then it seemed to go by dominance and power level. I wondered what order Haven had woken in, but hadn't asked anyone. He hadn't hurt me, so I hadn't mentioned our encounter to anyone yet. We had to do something about Haven, but I wasn't sure exactly what.

Jean-Claude was making phone calls to find out which Masters of the City were alive and how early they were up. Just by leaving messages this early in the day, Jean-Claude was letting them know that he had woken first. It was a subtle type of one-upmanship among vampires. The earlier you woke, the more powerful you were, as a general rule. Though today in St. Louis there were a lot of early wakeups that had nothing to do with the individual vampire's power, but everything to do with Jean-Claude. He'd shoved some of the power to all his vampires, because the power had to go somewhere. If I'd been in charge of the power I'd have probably raised an army of zombies in the closest cemetery.

Some of the debris we were searching through was still tangled up with pa.s.sed-out vampires and wereanimals. It was unnervingly like a crime scene with a lot of dead, since the vampires didn't breathe. I'd found my Browning and the big knife, but one of the wrist sheaths and my backup gun were still nowhere. I hadn't found my cell phone, either, but I wasn't as worried about that. Cell phones couldn't kill people. I wanted all the killing things back under my control. I'd check phone messages later.

I was starting to wonder if the gun and knife were hidden under someone when a hand grabbed my wrist. I jumped like I'd been slapped and don't know what I might have done, but I had a flashback, like the one I'd had with Jean-Claude and Richard.

I remembered the feel of Noel in my mouth, the look on his face as his body released, how he'd cried out. I had all that in my head before I even saw the face that went with the hand that had touched me.

He said, "Oh my G.o.d, what was that?"

"A flashback," I said, my own voice a little shaky. I knelt beside him. He was still holding on to me, but the memory had retreated. The flashbacks seemed to happen only for a moment and only with people that I'd f.u.c.ked last night. Jean-Claude had no idea why it was happening, and if he didn't know, I sure as h.e.l.l didn't.

Noel had lost his gla.s.ses, so his eyes looked bigger, darker. He looked younger, more unfinished without the gold frames around his eyes.

Nathaniel had moved past us, still looking for my things. I think he'd actually given us some privacy. "How are you feeling?" I asked.

"I thought I was dead. Was I dead?"

"Almost," I said. His hand was still around my wrist, tight, tension singing up his arm as if he were afraid to let go.

"You saved me."

"With some help, yes."

"How?"

"How much do you remember?" I asked.

"I remember the s.e.x, but not much else."

"Can you sit up?" I asked.

He seemed to think about that for a minute. "I think so." He started to sit up, and I flexed my arm to help pull him up. He sat there for a moment as if he weren't sure sitting up was a good idea, and then he said, "I don't hurt. Why don't I hurt?"

"You're a shapeshifter. You guys heal quick."

"I don't," he said. I helped him to stand and as he moved, the torn cushions fell away and he was as nude as in the memory. It bothered me a little, because I'd put Noel in the protect category; no, let's be honest, I thought of him as too innocent for me. I kept very serious eye contact as he swayed on his feet, holding on to my arm.

There was a m.u.f.fled voice. "Noel heals slow, almost human-slow." Travis dug enough of himself out from under torn clothes and unconscious vampires to get to his knees, and then stayed there for a moment. "Ow." He touched his inner thigh and came away with dried blood. "What's with all the vampire bites, and not to complain, but why don't I feel worse with three bites on me?"

"Richard and I had eight apiece."

Noel and Travis both looked at me with wide eyes, and I had that moment to think how young they were. In age they were only five or six years younger than me, but it's not always about chronological age. They just both hit my radar as very inexperienced.

"You should both be dead," Noel said, "with that much blood loss."

"Not diplomatic," Travis said, and used the back of the loveseat to get to his feet.

Noel looked uncomfortable and mumbled, "Sorry, I didn't mean to . . ."

"It's all right; we should have bled out."

"Why didn't we?" This from Nathaniel, who had wandered back to us. He'd had six bites of his own. "I had one night where I had this many vampires feed from me. I felt awful and was sick for over a day. But not only do I not feel sick, I feel good, better."

"The Lover of Death kept trying to force the power into eating each other, killing each other. Jean-Claude kept the power going to s.e.x and healing."

"So it was meant to bleed us to death?" Nathaniel said.

I nodded, then winced, because whoever had bitten my neck hadn't been gentle. Apparently the major healing had gone into the two werelions in front of me, because the bites still hurt. I had bandages on the inner-thigh ones to keep them from rubbing on my jeans.

Noel's hand had moved from my wrist and I realized I'd been holding his hand for a little while, or he was holding mine. I had one of those moments where I debated: Did I let go of his hand or keep holding it? I'd had metaphysical s.e.x with him and saved his life; how much hand holding did I owe him?

Nathaniel held out my phone to me. "I'll keep looking for the gun and the last knife, but at least we found your phone."

I took the phone, which gave me an excuse to stop holding Noel's hand. Travis asked, "What are you looking for?" Nathaniel explained, and the two of them started searching the far side of the room. Noel stayed by me as if he didn't know why, but he didn't want to leave me, either. I didn't know if he was afraid to leave my side, or if there was some metaphysical reason for it. I'd ask Jean-Claude later and hope he had an answer.

Noel stroked his fingers down my arm. "Is everything all right?"

I didn't like that he kept touching me. It wasn't that it felt bad, in fact it felt nice, but I did not need to have adopted another lion. I had too many lions already.

As if on cue, Haven came striding back into the room. He was nude, as all the wereanimals preferred to be, but he had his gun in its holster in one hand and a towel in the other. He was still rubbing at his short blue hair with it. Was he handsome? Yes. But all the muscles and being well-endowed didn't make up for faults of character. Sometimes you've just got to say no.

Noel moved closer to me, and behind me. He wasn't being subtle; he was hiding behind me. He touched me and I moved back, closing the small distance between us. He took that as the invitation it was and put his arm around my waist. I could feel him shaking, and even though he was nude, there was nothing s.e.xy about it. He was terrified of the handsome man, and just the feel of Noel's fear made Haven less handsome to me. Pretty is as pretty does, and what he'd done to Noel and Travis hadn't been pretty.

Haven scowled at us. His blue eyes, made even bluer by the wet, richer blues of his hair, were instantly angry. "I thought I made myself clear, but I guess not. That's okay, I can be more clear."

My pulse and breathing rate sped. I could feel Noel's heart pounding against my back. Travis came to stand near us; he wouldn't hide behind me like Noel, but he came closer to me. I was the only other dominant in the room. The guards were either still unconscious or in the many showers and baths deeper underground.

I'd found the Browning but it had lead in it, not silver, which meant I could wound him, but I couldn't kill him. I had one wrist sheath blade and the big knife. They were silver, but if I had to start using blades on Haven I had few illusions. I'd seen him fight and he was trained. His arm reach was nearly twice mine and his legs more than doubled my reach. He'd demonstrated his incredible speed in the spare room.

I heard Nathaniel moving things around behind me. He said, "I'll find it." He was looking for my other gun with the silver bullets because he'd done the same math that I had. He'd find it if he could.

"I can't let you hurt them, Haven," I said, and my voice was clear and even.

He threw the towel on the ground, and stood there nude and beautiful, and deadly. "I am Rex in this city, not you, Anita. You tried to mind-f.u.c.k me last night, and the s.e.x is a-f.u.c.king-mazing when we have it, but even for that I won't let you p.u.s.s.y-whip me. I can't."

"Then we have a problem," I said. Noel hid his face against my hair. I knew in that moment that the only way he was hurting Noel was after hurting me first. With the decision my pulse and breathing slowed. I was at peace with my decision. I would take a beating before I let him hurt them again. Sometimes it's not about winning; sometimes it's just about doing the right thing even if it hurts.

"They said you hadn't f.u.c.ked them, but I knew they lied."

"I protect a lot of people that I don't f.u.c.k," I said.

He shook his head. He kept his gun wrapped in its holster, but then he didn't need a gun to hurt us. I had seconds to decide what I'd do next. If I shot him with lead, would he shoot me back with silver?

"Let go, Noel. I need room."

Travis came and backed him up. I drew both the knives and let the gun and holster fall to the floor. I set my stance and held them both backward so the blades went along my arms. Once I'd thought knives were held out from the body like swords, but it depended on the blade and the type of fight.

He stopped moving forward, studying me. "What-I'm supposed to throw my gun away and come at you bare-handed?"

"Your reach is twice mine, and you'll have claws, I won't. I think the blades help make it a little more even."

"Do you think I won't hurt you? Do you think you've already cut off my b.a.l.l.s? That I'm just another big house cat for your collection?"

"No, Haven, I think you will hurt me if you can."

"Are they that good in bed? Are they better than me?"

"I've told you I hadn't touched them before last night."

"Lying b.i.t.c.h!"

"You're good at f.u.c.king, Haven, but that's not a good enough reason to like you."

"What the f.u.c.k does that mean?"

"You almost killed the two of them last night; are you going to try to finish the job?"

"They're male lions of my pride. If they can't defend themselves, then they die. It's the way the lions run their business."

"Now who's lying?" It was a woman's voice from behind him: the short blond werelion. She was as nude as Haven. Her body was lean and muscled, small b.r.e.a.s.t.s high and tight to her body, the swell of hips as slender as the rest of her. It wasn't the slender of starvation diets; it was weights and running and work that had honed her down. I knew it because though I had more curves, my body had the same look to it. Like we'd both carved ourselves down into something small and hard and dangerous.

"Stay out of this," he said, and there was the first hint of growl to his voice.

She walked wide past him, moving toward us. "The pride I came from was run by the women. A lot of prides are run by the women, because the men just want to f.u.c.k and fight."

"We're not all like that," Travis said, and his voice was more angry than afraid; good for him.

She smiled, but kept her attention on Haven as she came toward us. "No, you're not."

"They're the weakest lions in our pride," Haven said.

"I need a lover; I'm my own fighter," she said. She was almost beside me now. "I'm Kelly, Kelly Reeder," she said.

"You know my name," I said, "but I'm glad to meet you, Kelly Reeder."