Danse Macabre ab-14 Read online

  The man at my feet wrapped himself tighter around me, not kneading me with his fingers now, but clinging. "No," Haven said, "no, she's mine. Mine!" "Not yours," Joseph growled. He drew his wrist upward and my body fol­lowed the line of his skin. It wasn't Haven I wanted, it was lion. Would any-one do? Maybe. It wasn't a person I chased, but a scent.

  Haven came up off the floor in a movement too quick to follow. He was just suddenly moving, and Joseph was there, and the next moment they were across the room, crashing through the drapes into the stone wall beyond.

  The drapes cascaded down around them, so that half the living room wall" was ripped away, revealing the bare stone and the torch-lit corridor beyond.

  The guards waded in, trying to separate them. I was left standing, staring, not entirely sure what had happened, or why. Joseph had saved me, from something, something...

  Cloth ripped, loud and violent. Haven came up, out of the ripped drapes, and sailed across the room, to find the drapes at the other side. They col- lapsed around him, but he never tried to rise. He was just a shape under the cascading cloth.

  Joseph stepped out of the fall of white and gold cloth, half his shirt ripped away. His hands were half-clawed, and his face was beginning to lose its human shape, like his body becoming soft clay. His hair was lengthening, starting to form the golden halo of his mane.

  Auggie stepped to the edge of the spilled cloth around him, and his voice echoed through the room like the whisper of a giant. Intimate, soft, and thunderous all at once. "Lion, I am master here, not you."

  Joseph growled at him with teeth gone long and dangerous. His voice was so low and growling that it was hard to understand. "I am the Rex of the St. Louis Pride. I was invited to see the lions you brought, and I have found them wanting."

  Octavius came up beside Auggie, laid a hand on his back, and the power level rocked off the scale. It was like a metaphysical earthquake, except noth­ ing moved, nothing you could see anyway. But it stumbled me on my high heels. Joseph staggered back a step from it. The others turned startled faces toward Auggie, but they weren't as affected as Joseph.

  "Have you ever met a master vampire that could call your animal, Rex?" Auggie asked.

  Joseph was breathing harder than he should have been, but he managed to growl, "No."

  "Let me show you what you've been missing." He didn't gesture, or speak, but suddenly the air was hard to breathe. The air was so heavy with power that we should all be choking on it. But it wasn't meant for us.

  Joseph collapsed to his knees, snarling, fighting, but he could not stand against it.

  "Let me see your human eyes, Rex."

  The growing mane began to shrink. The fur that had been climbing over his skin began to be reabsorbed. His face was reshaping itself. Only when he was Joseph again, fully human again, did the air ease a little.

  "What do you want, vampire?" Joseph said, in a human voice that sounded breathy.

  "Obedience," Auggie said, and there was nothing friendly about that one word. The good-natured man was gone, and the master vampire was re­vealed. "Come to me, Rex, crawl to me."

  Joseph fought him. You could watch the struggle of it on his face, but fi­nally he dropped to all fours.

  "Stop it, Auggie," I said, "leave him alone."

  "He is my beast, not Jean-Claude's. There is no tie between my host and the lions."

  "There is tie between me and the lions. I invited Joseph here tonight."

  He never looked at me, but Octavius did. He put those perfect chocolate eyes on me, and his face held nothing but arrogance. Which pissed me off. Anger is bad, but sometimes, well, it has its uses.

  I moved toward them. I put myself between them, blocking his view of Joseph. It was like I'd taken a punch. Nathaniel was there to grab me, and the moment he touched me, I felt better. He was my animal to call now, not just my type of animal, but truly my animal to call, as Richard was to Jean-Claude. It was sort of like a furry human servant, and it gave some of the benefits. Power, extra power.

  "Joseph and his people are our allies. My leopards and I have a treaty with them. To harm one is to harm both."

  Auggie looked at me then, his eyes swimming gray like clouds with light­ning caught inside them. "If Jean-Claude had made this treaty I would have to abide by it, but you are a human servant, Anita. You do not bind me, as your master would. Just as, if you visit us in Chicago, deals made by Octavius alone are not binding on your master."

  "So you'll hurt Joseph because why, because he stopped me from doing some metaphysical shit with your lion? Is that it?" "He is lion, and no lion can resist me." "He is the Rex of St. Louis, Auggie, you have no authority over him," I

  said.

  "Would you challenge me with Octavius at my back? Would you set your­ self against me with your master busy elsewhere?"

  I nodded. "Yes."

  "I will punish him for his insult to me and mine, Anita. I will do it. You can either allow it, gracefully, or you can force me to control you, as I con­trol Joseph."

  "If you think you can control me, Auggie, knock yourself out."

  It was suddenly harder to breathe again. Micah came in at my other side. He was my Nimir-Raj, and it helped me think, but it didn't help me fight. "Graham," I said.

  He came to my reaching hand, and the moment I touched him, I could feel the wolves. Feel the tie through Richard to the pack. That neck-ruffling scent of wolf. The green peace of woods and fields, and...

  I staggered, and only Nathaniel and Graham's hands kept me on my feet. Pierce the werelion was at Auggie's side.

  I wanted to call Jean-Claude, but was afraid to. Auggie was his friend, but what I was feeling pushing against me, filling the very air, was more power­ ful than anything I'd ever felt from Jean-Claude. If I lost to Auggie, then I lost. But if Jean-Claude lost to him, then there was a chance he would be de­feated as Master of the City. And right there, in that moment, I saw the real reason I hadn't wanted these bastards in our city. I hadn't trusted us to be strong enough.

  I would not cost us the city. I would not be the ruin of us all. I would not. I was trying to fight him as if I were another master vampire, but that wasn't what I was. I was a necromancer. I was supposed to have control over all the dead. We would see.

  I let go of the men who held me up. I took a step away from the hands of the living, and opened that part of me that I always had to shield. That part of me that was like some great closed fist, tight, tight, or who knows what we could do, by accident or by design.

  I almost never unleashed my necromancy outside a cemetery. But there were no dead bodies for the power to find, there were only vam­pires. My power blew out from my body like a chill wind, and it found its mark.

  "What is this?" Auggie asked. Octavius's face didn't look so arrogant over

  his shoulder. Pierce moved away from him as if something about my power had made it hard to keep touching him.

  "If being human servant or Nimir-Ra gains me nothing, then there are other titles, Auggie. Other powers to be invoked."

  He licked his lips, a nice nervous gesture. "What is this power?"

  "Haven't you heard, Auggie, I'm a necromancer."

  "There are no true necromancers," Octavius said, but his voice didn't sound so certain.

  "Have it your way, but you will leave Joseph and his people alone while you're in my city."

  "Or what?" Auggie asked, his eyes still full of gray light.

  "I have another title among the vampires; do you know what it is?"

  "The Executioner, they call you the Executioner."

  "Yeah, they do."

  "Are you threatening to kill me?" He managed to sound amused, even with my power breathing around his body.

  "I am telling you the rules. You do not mess with our people. And all the vampires, all the shapeshifters, and other supernatural to be named later, qualify as our people."

  "We were attacked," Octavius said.

  "Fine, you've proved your point. You for
ced him to swallow his beast. I say it's enough."

  "I am a master vampire, a ruler of a city; you do not dictate to me."

  "If you're vampire enough to make me back down, then come and get me, Auggie. I stand here alone, no animal to call, no Nimir-Raj, no vampire at my back. I stand here with nothing but my own power. Are you vampire enough to do the same?"

  He smiled. "Are you saying to step away from Octavius and my lion, and meet you in the middle of the room, for what? A duel? You would die."

  "A testing of wills then," I said.

  "You cannot hope to win," he said.

  "If that's true, then you have nothing to lose, do you?"

  "Anita," Claudia said, "I'm not sure about this."

  "Come to me, Augustine, come to me." I put everything I had into that command. I wanted him to come to me, now. Before Jean-Claude got here.

  He pushed away from his human servant and his lion. He started walking toward me, just like I wanted. "Augustine," Octavius said, "do not do this."

  "Come to me, Auggie, come to me."

  He had taken two more steps, before he frowned at me. "You are bidding me to come. You are truly calling me."

  "I told you what I was."

  He shook his head. "I will not come to you."

  "Afraid?"

  "Cautious," he said.

  "Fine, then I'll meet you halfway, that's fair."

  "Anita," Graham said. I ignored him. I started walking toward the wait­ing vampire. "Meet me partway, Auggie."

  He started toward me, not gliding, but stiffly, as if his body wasn't work­ing quite right. He finally stopped before he reached me. Stopped with a look you don't get to see on a master vampire's face often. Nervous, he was nervous.

  "What happens when we meet in the middle, Anita?"

  "If you get past me, fine, but if you don't, then I win."

  "That doesn't seem fair; you have only to stand your ground, but I must walk past you."

  We both stopped about two feet away from each other. I coaxed my power, whispered to it what I wanted. I wanted him to obey me. I'd never tried this so overtly against any vampire. A Master of the City was probably not the place to start, but it was too late now.

  He swayed on his expensive shoes. "I will not."

  "Will not what?" I asked, but my voice held the power that was breathing around us. My voice knew what.

  I expected him just to keep resisting. I should have remembered that there were other options.

  "You want me, Anita, you can have me. I can do what I wanted to do all along, and Jean-Claude can't even get mad."

  I hesitated, stumbling in my mind, the power flickering. "What..."

  He moved faster than I could follow, closing the distance, taking me in his arms. I was suddenly pinned against his body, my arms trapped. My power pushed at him, but his power pushed back.

  "I feel it, your power, and God, you are powerful. If you were just a necro­ mancer you might even win, but you aren't just that, are you?" He lowered his face toward me, as if he meant to kiss me.

  "Stop, I command you to stop."

  He actually hesitated, swallowing hard, closing his eyes, but when he opened them, it was as if his power had taken a catastrophic leap. The gaze from his eyes stopped the breath in my throat. "Strong, but not strong enough." He flexed his power, like some invisible muscle, and that flexing shot through my body. It bowed my spine, and only his arms kept me up­right. We half fell to our knees, as if my collapse caught him by surprise. He

  ripped my controls away from the ardeur. He did it better and quicker than Thea had dreamt of. He brought the ardeur, with my body wrapped in his. He brought die ardeur knowing that once it rose like this, he would be my food. Which, of course, was what he had meant. He could do what he'd wanted to all along, and Jean-Claude couldn't even get mad.

  8

  PASSION LIKE SOMETHING touchable, solid, spilled up through my body and over his. Lust like some thick, heavy paint flowed over us, covering us, trapping us.

  I froze, afraid to breathe, afraid to speak, afraid most of all to move. I'd gone from finding Auggie handsome, arrogant, and beginning not to like him, to wanting to be naked with him. Even for the ardeur it was an abrupt switch.

  I wanted to ask him what had he done to me, but was afraid to move that much, and even more afraid to draw his attention to me. Afraid of what he would do, no, not true: terrified of what I would do.

  I stayed frozen in his arms. Perfectly still, only my pulse moving. If I could simply not move, I could hold on. I'd won the fight. Auggie was of­fering himself up as food; that made me the winner. Vampire rules: food loses. All I had to do was hold on until Jean-Claude came. I could do that. He was close. I could feel him coming down the stairs. Minutes, minutes away from help. But fighting the ardeur by not acting only works if the other person involved wants it to work. It needs two people trying to fight it. Aug­gie didn't want to fight it. He wanted to lose.

  His eyes closed, and his head fell back, almost as if the sex had already started. His voice was hoarse as he said, "I had almost forgotten how it feels to be consumed by passion." He lowered his face so he could meet my gaze. "I try to forget the touch of it, Anita. I almost succeed in convincing myself it wasn't real, that nothing ever felt so amazing, then she sends me a dream."

  I knew who she was, because when any of Belle's line said her, or she, of course, you knew who she was. Belle Morte. It was always Belle Morte. Their dark mistress, the creator of them all.

  "Did you hear me, Anita? Did you hear me?" His arms moved so that he was gripping my upper arms, our bodies still pressed too close together. There was room to try to fight, to try for a weapon, but it was too late for that. If I went for a weapon, I wasn't certain I could make my hands grab a

  gun, or a blade. My hands ached for the touch of his skin. I wasn't trustwor­thy. I wanted to scream in my mind for Jean-Claude, but with the ardeur this strong, I wasn't sure if it could spread that way.

  Auggie shook me. "Did you hear me, Anita?"

  I felt movement, caught a glimpse of black at the sides. If anyone touched us the ardeur would spread to them. Bad, very bad. "Stay back," I whispered, "tell them."

  Micah said, "Don't touch either of them. It spreads by touch."

  "You touch her and I'll shoot you, Graham." This from Claudia.

  "Look at me, Anita," Auggie said. "Me."

  I swallowed my pulse, and moved, very slowly, to look at him. I met the charcoal gray of his gaze, and whatever he saw there seemed to satisfy him. "She sends such dreams, Anita. Dreams like this, where lust is something touchable, holdable, caressable, and it's spilling over your skin, drowning you in its need." He leaned in toward me, as if for a kiss.

  I turned my head down, away, still careful, still slow. Move too fast and the ardeur was like a predator, attracted by quick movements. But a small turn of the head, that I could do.

  "Don't turn away. Let me kiss you. Let me spill this waiting press of heat over us. Let us drown together."

  I kept my face turned away, my hands in fists, because all I could tliink of was what his body would feel like under my hands. I wanted to trace his shoulders, his chest, see the muscled promise of him nude before me. It was like months, or years, of dating and wanting all packed into moments. Re­quiem, one of our imports from Britain, could cause instant body reaction, hours of really good foreplay in seconds of power. Could Auggie hit the emotional markers as fast as Requiem could hit the physical ones? Sweet Mary, Mother of God, help me.

  The moment the thought left me, I was calmer, could think more clearly. For years I hadn't prayed during times like this, too embarrassed, but I'd fi­nally realized if my faith was real, then it didn't desert me just because I was outside societal norms.

  "No," he said, "no, I will not come this close and be denied." He drew me in against his body, and I fought to stay stiff and unyielding when all I wanted to do in the whole wide world was touch him. He rested his cheek against my hair. "I f
eel your master's nearness, Anita. You wait for rescue, but remember, unless you actually feed from me, then you have not won this fight." I felt the press of his lips against my temple, soft and hot. "Do you really believe Jean-Claude will win against me? Feed and you win, and so does he."

  He was implying what I'd already thought of, that if Jean-Claude hit the door before I'd won, that we would lose, badly. I'd felt the power in Auggie, and I knew the power in Jean-Claude. If it was a straight-up battle, we would lose. I couldn't let that happen.

  Micah's voice came from behind me. He didn't touch me, but he said, "There are other hungers, Anita. Other drives." He spoke carefully, as if he wasn't sure how well I could hear him.

  Micah was right. The ardeur had a habit of swallowing die world, and my logic with it. There were other hungers and they were inside me, just like the ardeur. Once I'd thought to raise other hungers I had to open the marks between Richard, or Micah, or Nathaniel, but I knew better now. The beast wasn't something I got from them. It was something inside me. The fact that it had no way out, no way to make my body match its hunger, didn't make it less real.

  I closed my eyes and reached down inside myself, like a metaphysical hand reaching into a sack. Searching for what I needed. Auggie inadver­tently helped me. He jerked me off my knees with a crushing grip on my arms. It hurt, but the pain didn't blow my concentration, no, the beast liked anger. Anger and pain meant we had to fight, and we were good at fighting.

  Always before the beast had been a process, but now it was like a switch in my head. One moment me, the next, something that wasn't thinking about sex, or even food. Escape, escape, escape!

  I screamed into his face, wordless, rage-filled. He jerked me close to his face. He grabbed my hair, and tried for that kiss. But it was too late for kisses. Too late for so much.

  I bit him. Sank my teeth into his pouting lower lip. The grip on my hair became painful, and he tried to control my face, my head, my mouth, with that bruising grip. He couldn't pull me off before I bit through his lip, and he seemed to know that, because his other hand went to my jaw, the way you'd grip an animal at the hinge of the jaw, pressing inward. If you have the strength you can force an animal not to bite down completely. If you have the strength you can pry him off.