Danse Macabre ab-14 Page 6

  "What's so funny?" I asked them both.

  "Sorry, Anita," she said, voice still full of laughter.

  Fredo nodded. "Yeah, sorry, but you, 'honest'? Jesus, 'honest' doesn't cover it."

  Micah had to clear his throat sharply, and even Nathaniel's face was sort of glowing with the effort not to smile at me.

  I fought not to get angry, and finally managed it. Bully for me. "I can lie if I have to." And even to me it sounded pouty.

  "But it's not your nature," Fredo said, which was a little too perceptive for someone who was supposed to be just muscle.

  "He's right," Claudia said, and she'd finally managed to control her laughter. "I apologize for the outburst."

  "She is like you, Samuel," Thea said, "an honest heart."

  "That would be a good thing," he said. And the way he said it made me finally look at some of the other people in his party. My thought about in­laws was a little too accurate with Samuel and Thea: they were offering up their three sons as possible pommes de sang for me. Which I found a little creepy, but all the vamps had patiently explained to me that most of the really old vamps come from a time when arranged marriages between pow­ers was the norm, not the exception.

  The twins were easy to spot, because they were identical. I knew their names: Thomas and Cristos. They had their mother's white-blond color, but the short careless curls of their father. They were both taller than their fa­ther, somewhere around five-ten like Mom. But their bodies were slender, not enough muscle development. I searched their curious faces and found them young. Very young. They had to be legal, or Jean-Claude wouldn't have agreed, but they didn't look legal. Maybe merpeople aged slower than humans.

  The other son I wasn't certain of, because there were two dark-haired men standing behind the love seat. One of them met my eyes bold as brass. The other man wouldn't meet my gaze; he actually blushed, embarrassed. I was betting that was the son. Maybe he thought it was all as weird as I did.

  "They are lovely, my sons, are they not?" Thea asked, and that brought my attention back to her.

  I wasn't sure what to say to that, but finally said, "Well, yeah, I guess, I mean, I wasn't looking at them for that." I felt the blush crawl up my face and cursed myself for it.

  She smiled. "Let us decide which of us is of higher rank, so I may intro­duce you to them formally."

  I thought about it, looked at Micah and Nathaniel. They both shook their (leads; they didn't know either.

  "I have a thought," Thea said, and the tone in her voice made it clear mat she wasn't sure I'd like it. Her voice was melodious, almost like singing.

  "I'm willing to hear it," I said.

  "We are animal to call and human servant, but I am married to a Master of the City, and you are not. Would that be a way to decide who is higher tank?"

  "Thea," Samuel said.

  "No," I said, "it is a way to decide this. Marriage beats just dating, I'm okay with that."

  Samuel frowned at me. "We were warned that you had a temper, Ms. Blake."

  I shrugged. "I do, but Thea's reasoning is as good a way as any to decide which of us offers up a body part."

  "You don't find it insulting to acknowledge her as greater than yourself?" he asked.

  I shook my head. "No."

  He looked at me, looked at me as if he were trying to see all the way through to my spine. It wasn't vampire tricks, it was just him trying to de­cide what I was, or wasn't. Once I would have squirmed under such a look, but not now. Now I just stood there and gave him calm eyes back.

  Thea made some small movement that drew my attention back to her. She was waiting, outwardly patient, but there was a demand in her. Time to put up, or shut up.

  I offered her my wrist.

  She took my hand in hers, and again her hand was cool in mine. She wrapped her hand around mine, and used it to draw me in toward her body. She wasn't going to take the wrist, she was going for the neck.

  I didn't fight, but I did pull back a little.

  She hesitated, giving me those strange black eyes of hers. "If I outrank you, Anita, then it is my choice where to touch."

  I shook my head. "No, that you're trying for the neck instead of the wrist means only one of three things: you don't trust me, you're showing how big and bad you are, or you're thinking sex. Which is it, Thea?"

  "The second," she said. She kept trying to pull me in against her body, and I started to let her. The strength in her one hand let me know that if I really wanted to struggle I'd have a fight on my hands. She was strong, like shapeshifter strong.

  She kept her grip on my wrist as she used her other hand to pull me in against her body, until the two of us were pressed together, not tight, but so our bodies brushed from chest to thighs.

  I had to talk staring at her shoulder. She was just too tall for me. "Why do you want me to know that you're big and bad?"

  "My wife is very competitive with other women, Anita," Samuel said. "Surely Jean-Claude mentioned that, as he mentioned your temper to us."

  "He said something about it, but..." She let go of my wrist so she could slide that arm around my back, pressing me closer to her. Her other hand was sliding up my back toward my hair. But I hadn't understood what com­petitive meant, I thought. It took almost everything I had not to tense up as she entwined her body around me, close now, so close, lover close, sex close.

  Her breasts were small and tight, and she wasn't wearing a bra. Eeek. I felt stupid with my arms limp at my sides, and I didn't really want to en­courage her, but... I ended up sort of hugging her just to keep my balance on the damned high heels.

  She leaned her mouth close to my face and whispered, "I do want you to understand that I am superior to you, Anita, but that is only half my reason."

  My pulse sped up a little at that. I started to turn to look at her face, but she grabbed a handful of curls and kept my face turned away. I was left star­ing at the man who had blushed. He looked at me, full face, and he suddenly looked like a younger version of Samuel. How had I not seen it before? He mouthed, / am sorry.

  I had trouble speaking around my pulse now, because I had that bad feel­ing that something was about to happen. Something I wasn't going to enjoy. "What's the other half of your reason?" I asked, voice breathy, holding that edge of nervousness that held a touch of fear.

  "I want to know what you are, Anita," she whispered, and her breath was warmer than it had been. Her hands were warm now, as if she had caught a

  sudden fever. It reminded me of the way some of the shapeshifters felt close to the full moon.

  "What's happening?" I asked, but my voice was only a whisper.

  Her fingers entwined through my hair until she held my face immobile with her strong hands, and I could feel the heat of her fingers through my hair. She drew her face back from my neck, and stared down at me. She held my face tilted up to her as if for a kiss. "Are you truly what they say you are?"

  I struggled to swallow so I could whisper, "What do they say I am?"

  "Succubus," she whispered as she lowered her face toward mine. I knew in that instant that she was going to kiss me. "I am seeking another of my kind, Anita. Are you what I seek?" And with the last word she closed her mouth over mine.

  6

  Her mouth was warm, so warm against mine. Warm like hot chocolate. Something you wanted to open your mouth and sip from. It wasn't my idea, opening my mouth, it was hers. Somehow, it was her thought in my head. I didn't like that, not one little bit. The not liking helped me keep my mouth closed tight. She drew back enough to whisper, "Do not fight me."

  I heard voices around us arguing. Help was coming, I just had to hold on. I just had to hold my shields in place and not let her do what she was trying to do. Just hold on, tliat was all. I'd held on when help was miles away; now it was just inches. I could do this.

  She'd tried gentle persuasion, mind games, they hadn't worked. She tried force. She kissed me so hard, tliat either I opened my moutli to her, or she was going to
cut my lip on my own teeth. If she'd been a man I would have just let her kiss me—was I really this homophobic? If she hadn't whispered through my mind tliat she wanted me to open my mouth, I might have done it, but she wanted it too badly. Part of me was just that stubborn, but part of me was afraid of why she wanted it so badly. I knew she was a siren, a sort of uber-mermaid. I knew that some of her magic dealt with seduction and sex. I knew that she could control the odier mermaids. I knew all sorts of tilings from talks witfi Jean-Claude; what I didn't know was why she wanted me to open my mouth.

  Her kiss bruised my mouth and I tasted blood, sweet, metallic candy on my tongue. The moment I tasted the blood, it hurt. She'd cut tlie inside of my lip on my own teeth.

  She drew back. "Why fight so hard simply not to kiss me back? Are you so much a hater of women?"

  I tried to shake my head, but she still held my face immobile. "Why do you want me to open my mouth? What difference does it make to you?"

  "You are strong, Anita, so strong. The walls of your inner tower are high, and wide, but not impenetrable."

  I was getting angry, and I wasn't sure what that would do to my inner tower and its walls. I did not want the beast to rise while we were still doing introductions. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, but said what my anger wanted me to say; I just wasn't angry when I said it. "Either let me go, or breach those walls, but either way this ends."

  "How so?"

  "I've done all that vampire etiquette requires, so either let me go, or I call in my guards and they force you to let me go."

  "Do you need help to break free of me?" she asked, and her voice was singsong again.

  "Unless I'm willing to shoot you, yes."

  Graham came close enough to say quietly, "Say the word, Anita, and we move her." He sounded eager, or angry. I guess I couldn't blame him. This whole thing had gone beyound grandstanding to just plain rude.

  Samuel came to our side. "Thea, this is not the way."

  She turned her head and looked at him. "Then what is the way?"

  "Perhaps you could simply ask."

  A look crossed her face, as if that would never have occurred to her, then she laughed, a high wild sound, and for a second I thought I heard the laugh­ter of seagulls. "So simple, my darling Samuel, so simple." She released the grip on my hair so I could move my neck, which was a relief. She stayed en­twined around me, but not so forcefully. We were still too close for comfort, but it was more friendly. "My deepest apologies, Anita; it has been so long since I met anyone who could withstand my desires that I simply kept trying to force. Forgive me."

  "Let me go, and I will."

  She gave that laugh again, and it wasn't my imagination. When she laughed I heard the sound that herring gulls make, and the whisper of surf. She let me go, stepped back. The moment she moved back the tension level in the room plummeted. All the guards on every side had thought the flags were about to go up. Me, too.

  She bowed. "My deepest apologies. I underestimated you, and I am ashamed of my actions."

  "I accept your apology."

  She stood and regarded me with those black eyes in that pale white and gold face, as if some delicate porcelain doll had the eyes of a movie demon. "You know that we are offering our sons as your pommes de sang."

  I nodded. "Jean-Claude told me, and I'm honored." Actually it creeped me out, but I understood that it was supposed to be an honor.

  "But do you know why?"

  That stopped me, because the answer was, "Jean-Claude said you wished for a stronger alliance between our two kisses."

  "We do"—Samuel joined his wife—"but there is a reason that my wife was so adamant that we bring all three of our sons to your table."

  "And that reason would be what?" I wanted to just skip this until I had more vampire backup, but I didn't think I'd get the choice.

  Micah was suddenly at my side, taking my hand. I felt better. I wasn't alone. We could do this. We didn't have vamps, but we had each other. Nathaniel came in at my back, not quite taking my other hand in case I needed it for weapon grabbing, but close enough that he was a line of heat at my back. Better and better.

  "I am a siren," Thea said.

  I nodded. "I know."

  "Do you understand what that means among my kind?"

  "I know that most mermaids who exhibit siren abilities are killed by the other merpeople before they can reach their full power."

  "Do you know why?"

  "Because in full power you can control the merpeople magically."

  "As a necromancer can control all types of undead," Thea said.

  I shrugged. "Yeah, I have some control over a lot of undead, but it's not perfect control, and it doesn't work on everyone."

  "Nor does mine work on every merperson, though it works on many. But do you know what the basis of that control is?"

  I shook my head. "No."

  "Sex, or seduction perhaps."

  I crooked an eyebrow at her. "What does that mean exactly in this context?"

  "It means that I hold something similar to the ardeur that you and Jean-Claude share. It attracts both my kind and mortals to me, as the ardeur at­tracts the dead and apparently lycanthropes and mortals to you."

  I frowned at her. "Yeah, a lot of guys want a full taste of the ardeur once they get a small taste." I fought not to look for Graham when I said it. "But they aren't attracted to me because of it."

  She gave that gull-and-surf laugh again. "You do not know what you are, Anita. The ardeur alone does not make you a succubus, or Jean-Claude an incubus. I have met others with the ardeur, but fewer with that next level of power. You have it. Your master has it. People are drawn to you because of it. The very touch of your skin can be addictive."

  I gave her a look. "Like the touch of your skin is supposed to be addictive?"

  Yes."

  I fought not to smile, but didn't quite succeed. I licked the cut she'd made in my lip, and said, "No insult meant, but I don't crave your touch."

  "No, you fought me. You won."

  "What do you want from me?"

  "I believe that my sons have inherited my powers, but there is only one way for a siren to be fully born. Another siren must bring them into their power."

  I saw where this was going, or was afraid I did. "Let me guess: the only way to bring them over is to have sex."

  She nodded.

  "You can't find another siren to do the job for you?"

  "I am the last of my kind, Anita. I am the last siren. Unless you have the power to awaken my sons."

  Micah squeezed my hand tighter. Nathaniel moved in so that our bodies touched from shoulder to hip. "Okay, if we're being honest, I'm a little dis­turbed by your pimping out your sons to me."

  "What does 'pimping out' mean?" she asked.

  I sighed. Great, one of those moments when you really don't want to ex­plain the slang. Nathaniel said, "It means to sell someone else for sexual purposes."

  She frowned, then said, "I cannot truly argue the definition. I wish you to have sex with my sons, and it will gain us both a stronger alliance. They will gain power from it. So, if that is selling, I cannot argue this 'pimping out.' "

  "But if you are only a carrier of the ardeur and not a true succubus, then you cannot do what Thea wishes," Samuel said.

  I looked at them both. "And how do we find out if I've got what Thea wants?" I couldn't keep the suspicion out of my voice.

  Nathaniel stroked my shoulder like you'd settle a nervous horse, but I didn't push him away. I was getting tense, and fighting not to get angry.

  "Let down your inner walls, and let my power taste yours." She said it like it was easy, a small thing.

  I shook my head. "I don't know."

  "The thought of my 'pimping out' my sons to you makes you uncom­fortable, does it not?"

  "Yeah, it does."

  "If your power is not close enough to mine, then we will stay for the par­ties, and the ballet, but you will not have to look at them as pomm
es de sang. We will take our sons home and you will not have to worry over your dis­comfort."

  It sounded too easy. "It sounds simple, but before I say yes, what are the possible side effects of your power exploring mine?"

  She looked puzzled. "I am not certain I understand the question."

  "She means," Micah said, "what bad things could happen if she allows this?"

  She actually thought about it for almost a minute. "It should be only a touch of powers, like two leviathans moving in the deep, sliding their sides against each other, then passing away into the dark depths of the sea."

  I felt calmer, as if I could feel those dark, peaceful depths.

  "Should be," Micah said. "What else could happen?"

  "It could call your ardeur to the surface and you would be forced to feed."

  I was suddenly tense again, the peaceful dark depths gone like smoke in the wind. "No," I said.

  Nathaniel whispered in my ear. "You can feed from me without inter­course, Anita. It's a way of getting rid of them."

  Micah looked at me. "Only you can decide if the chance of having to feed the ardeur here and now is worth it, Anita."

  I looked at the sons. The twins looked at me, smiling, somewhere be­tween amused and embarrassed. But it was the kind of embarrassment that any teenager would have felt if his mom did something that made him squirm. The older one, behind the love seat, looked more like I felt, un­comfortable as hell.

  "You must be Sampson," I said.

  He looked startled, then nodded. "I am."

  "What do you think about all this? I mean, do you want to be brought into your sirenhood?"

  He looked down, then up. "Do you know that you are the first person to ask me how I feel about this?"

  I let the surprise show on my face.

  "It's no reflection on my parents. They love me. Us. But Father is over a thousand years old, and Mother is older still. Arranged marriages don't seem strange to them, and they both would love to have one of us be as powerful as Mother. It would cement our power base along the entire eastern seaboard of this country. I understand all that, or I wouldn't be standing here."