«You mean, I don't need another shock for the day,» I said, and I started to laugh, but it ended in a sob that I bit my lip to keep inside. Panic was eating at me, eating holes in all my bones and organs, so that I was getting more and more fragile, and when I needed it most, there'd be nothing there to use; there'd be nothing but the fear.
I whispered, because I didn't trust my voice any louder. I was either going to start screaming again, or crying. I didn't want to do either. «Jean-Claude thinks Requiem's power can overcome my reluctance. I have to feed the ardeur, and I so don't want to. If Requiem's power can make me want him, then send him, because right now, I don't want anyone. I just want to be left the fuck alone.»
Anyone else would have looked hurt, but Micah didn't. He took it, with that quiet face. He said, quietly, «We all have a breaking point, Anita, all of us.»
I shook my head, over and over. «We can't afford for me to break today, Micah.»
He sighed. «Someday, I'd like for us to have a little time for you to be able to break down, if you wanted to.» I realized his eyes were glittering with unshed tears.
«Don't cry,» I said.
«Why not, one of us needs to.» He turned away, with the first tear shining down his cheek.
I grabbed for his arm, and crawled over the bed, and pulled him in against me. And just like I'd known I would, I lost it. I cried, and screamed, and clung to him, and hated myself for doing it. So weak, so fucking weak.
30
SOMEWHERE IN THE middle of breaking down, I realized there were other hands holding me besides Micah's. I pushed at the hands, half-fought, and half-clung, as if I couldn't decide whether I wanted not to be touched, or never to be let go. I heard a voice, a hysterical voice, saying, «Don't want to do this… can't do this. I can't do this.» I realized it was me, and even realizing it, I couldn't stop the babbling. «Can't do a baby, tests, don't want to do the ardeur anymore, no more, no more men, no more adding to my life.» The talking fell into sobbing, and finally even that stopped. In the end, I just lay in the curve of their arms, and was quiet. Too tired to move, too tired to protest. Because somehow in the midst of it all, Richard had ended up holding me. His body cradling me. I didn't feel anything about him holding me. Nothing, I felt nothing, and I was glad. I'd been feeling too much lately, too much.
«Her energy feels different,» he said, and his voice sounded farther away than it should have. He was tall, but I was only in his lap, not that far away.
Other hands touched my face, my hands, my arms. My eyes were closed and I kept them that way; I didn't want to see them. Didn't want to see any of them. «She is cold.» Jean-Claude's voice, his hand moving away from my cheek.
Cold, yes, I was cold, so cold. Cold down to the core of my being, as if I'd never be warm again. Fur brushed my arm, and it made me open my eyes enough to see Nathaniel kneeling on the bed. His face was still a stranger's face behind the mix of animal and human. Once, just once, that face had been above me while we made love. Just the one time.
Hands touched my face, moved me to look at Jean-Claude and Richard. Their hands, one on either side of my face. Their hands were so warm against my skin. It took me a long second to realize that both of their hands felt warm. Had Jean-Claude gained so much power from feeding on Augustine, so much that he was hot to the touch?
I was having trouble focusing on their faces. I whispered, «Warm, you're both warm.»
Richard spoke slowly, carefully, as if he thought I might have trouble understanding him, «Anita, you're colder to the touch than Jean-Claude.»
I frowned at him, and tried to focus on his face. I could almost do it, but it was as if my attention kept wandering before I could make my eyes do what I wanted. «Wrong, something's wrong.» Still a whisper, but I said it out loud.
«Yes,» he said, «something is wrong.» He looked at Jean-Claude. «I can't feel her. She's in my arms and I can't feel her energy.»
«She is drawing away from us,» Jean-Claude said.
«Drawing away, what does that mean?» Richard asked.
«I believe ma petite is trying to break the bonds that bind her to us.»
«You mean break the triumvirate?»
«Out.»
«Can she do that?» someone asked.
«Anita can do anything she wants to do,» Nathaniel's growling voice said.
«I do not know if it is possible, but I know she is trying,» Jean-Claude said.
«It will destroy your power base,» Asher's voice, though I couldn't make my eyes search the room for him.
«So be it,» Jean-Claude said. I fought to see him clearly, watch him look to Richard. «Why the tragic face, Richard? You could be free of the triumvirate, Richard, free of me.»