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Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, Book 14. Danse Macabre(152)



Tears trailed from his eyes, faintly pink with blood like all vampire tears. He rolled his head back so he could see me. «I wanted to hide it from you, but I never could hide it.»

«Hide what?» I asked, and my voice sounded almost afraid.

«How good the ardeur feels. Belle said once that she'd never known anyone who fed the ardeur as well as I did, or addicted to it as quickly.» The laughter faded from his eyes, leaving them desolate. From such joy, to such loss, in a blink of his eyes.

«Are you addicted once more, mon ami?» Jean-Claude asked.

He turned his head to look at Jean-Claude. «I do not know for certain, but most likely, oui, I am.» He sounded neither happy nor sad about it. He was almost matter-of-fact.

«God, London, I'm sorry,» I said.

Damian tried to sit up, but Nathaniel and I had to help him, so that he was propped up between us. «I'm sorry, as well.»

London curled himself on the bed so he was lying on his side, and could see us. «Don't be sorry, I feel better than I've felt in centuries.» He closed his eyes, and drew a shivering breath. «I feel so warm, so… alive.»

I remembered when the ardeur was searching for food, how he'd hit the radar. So powerful, but more than that. «The ardeur recognized you as the tasty power in the room. Is it because you were addicted to it once?»

«Requiem was addicted once,» London said. «Did he seem tasty, too?»

«Not as yummy as you, no.»

«Belle said that my power is to feed the ardeur. To use a modernism, I am a battery for it.»

«If you are such a good feed, then why doesn't Damian feel better?» Nathaniel asked.

«I did not mean to, but I think I drank a great deal of the energy myself. It was like being lost in the desert for years, and suddenly seeing a river, running cool and deep. My skin soaked it up, I couldn't stop it. I kept most of the energy, and I'm sorry for that.»

«No you're not,» Nathaniel said, his voice soft, but certain.

London laughed, an abrupt, happy sound. «You're right, I'm not. I knew it would be enough energy to keep Damian alive, and beyond that I didn't care.» He curled all that tall, strong frame into a ball, and looked at me with a face more uncertain than anything I'd ever seen from London. «I am at your mercy. I tried to hide how much it meant to me, but I cannot. I could never hide it from Belle either. She tortured me with it.» He gazed up at me with those lost eyes, and said, «Will you torture me, Anita? Will you make me beg for another taste?»

My pulse was suddenly in my throat, not from passion, but from fear. The proud, scary London was curled on a bed staring up at me with a look I'd only seen in Nathaniel's eyes. I knew that look. It said, You can do anything you want to do, just keep me. I'll do anything you want, just keep me.

Ronnie had always been able to find men to have a nice uncomplicated fuck with. Me, I seemed to be running a home for amazingly complicated men. As for a nice uncomplicated fuck, I wouldn't have known one if it bit me on the ass.





34



BY TWO FORTY-FIVE we were in a maternity room at St. John's hospital. If I'd been further along someone might have called it a birthing room, but not in front of me, not if they wanted to live. To say that I was not happy to be there was an understatement of amazingly gigantic proportions.

Dr. North had taken one look at the crowd with me, and managed a private room for the exam. Or maybe he'd known me well enough to arrange it ahead of time. The room had pink flowered wallpaper, and all the furniture tried to be homey, or at least to pretend we were in a nice hotel. All except the bed. The bed was nicer than most, but it still had railings, and one of those trays on wheels at the foot of it. It was still a hospital bed no matter how dolled-up the surroundings might be.

I wasn't lying in the bed. I was pacing the room, because we were waiting for the blood test results. We'd find out in minutes just how bad the news was going to be.

Micah was in a chair in the corner, staying out of my way. Smart man. We had two werelions with us, one standing quietly against a wall, and the other in the room's only other chair, reading. Joseph had shown up with six werelions for me to choose from. Joseph seriously didn't like Haven, Auggie's lion, and was hoping I'd pick other, less dominant lions to play with. Okay by me. But how do you choose from relative strangers? How do you choose the ones who will at the very least let you change them, violently, into their animal forms. How do you trust that they won't fight you?

Joseph assured me and Jean-Claude, «I picked submissives, as I discussed with Jean-Claude. I think they'll be like Nathaniel was for you once, for the ardeur.»