Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, Book 14. Danse Macabre(113)
He gave a shrug that meant everything and nothing.
«I cannot believe that my» — and I hesitated because boyfriend seemed too junior high, lover not enough — «the man I love is encouraging me to take another lover.»
He smiled at me. «We know now that any who have tasted Belle's ardeur are susceptible to your ardeur. I think any of her line will be too risky to taste as pommes. Agree to feed the ardeur from Requiem, ma petite, that is all. Agree, because we have two more things to know before the party tonight.»
«What two things?»
«Will you draw and be drawn to all leopards, wolves, and lions? Do the ardeur's effects travel outside Belle's line?»
I looked at Jean-Claude, tried to read past his face. «You're still shielding so hard, I can't tell how you really feel about this. Let me see inside your shields.»
He shook his head. «I think it would be no help to you.»
«Why not?»
«Because part of me is happy our powers are growing, no matter what the cost. Part of me is frightened of what the council may do about it. Do I want you to take another lover? No, but do I prefer that it is you whom the ardeur hunts to this degree, and not me, yes. I am sorry, ma petite, but that is the truth.»
I thought about it, then nodded. «If you have a human servant who can't hold her shit together the other masters may forgive you. Like a bad marriage, not your fault. If you can't hold your shit together, they won't let that pass.»
«Please, Anita,» Requiem said, «please, feed the ardeur upon me, please.»
«I will.»
The look on his face was amazing, so joyous even through all the bruises. The look scared me. No one but your nearest and dearest should ever look at you like that.
«But not right now,» I said.
Some of the joy faded. «Why not now? It is morning. You have slept.»
I nodded. «Yeah, usually that does raise the ardeur.» I looked at Jean-Claude. «That's a good question, why don't I feel all ardeurish?»
«I, too, am well fed.»
«You feasted last night,» Requiem said, «on Augustine and his people.»
I looked back at Jean-Claude. «Is he right? Was it such a powerful meal that we're safe for longer?»
«Perhaps.»
«You don't sound convinced.»
«The ardeur is not always a predictable power, ma petite. I would need more than one feeding of such magnitude before I agreed that that was the reason.»
«Or perhaps,» Elinore said, «you should be trying to figure out how powerful a meal you would need to abate the ardeur. You cannot feast on another Master of the City and his people every night.» She leaned forward in her chair, all lace and satin, but strangely, she didn't look cute. She looked too intent for words like cute. «Perhaps what is needed is permanent food of high power.»
«Few masters would agree to become Anita's, or my, permanent pomme de sang. Not if they are powerful enough to rule a territory of their own.»
«What if they have no choice in the matter?» she said, indicating Requiem.
«Are you suggesting that I purposefully trap other masters the way I accidentally trapped Requiem?» I asked.
«It would solve a great many problems,» she said.
«It would be» — I groped for a word — «evil.»
«I thought you were more pragmatic than this, Anita.»
«Doing that would be no different than if we gave in to the requests we get weekly for you to join some other master's kiss, as his mistress. We give you room to choose, Elinore. How can you ask us to take that same choice away from someone else?»
«I would not be bespelled, Anita. I would know every night as he touched me, lay on top of me, that I hated him. Requiem adores you, and he will adore you until, and if, he falls in love, true love. Until that time he will be in the bed of someone he adores, having amazing sex, and enjoying every minute of it. It is not the same thing, Anita. Trust me on that.»
«But it's sort of a metaphysical date-rape drug, used like that. Just because you're enjoying the abuse doesn't make it not abuse.»
«Does it not, ma petite?»
I shook my head. «It's too late for Requiem, I'll accept that. I'll try feeding the ardeur on him.»
He kissed my hand. «Thank you, mistress.»
«Not mistress,» I said, «Anita, just Anita.»
«Thank you, Anita,» he said, and kissed my hand again.
«Get up off the floor, Requiem, please.»
He stood. «I would like very much to sit beside you.»
I sighed, and nodded.
He sat on the other side of me from Jean-Claude, except that he sat close enough that his legs touched me. Great, just creepy, great.