Claudia and Lisandro shoved themselves into the seat beside him. The three of them had such wide shoulders that I always wondered if they'd all fit, but they did. Noel got in the very back. Travis rode with Graham and Ixion in the second car.
I started to use the cell phone to tell Jean-Claude, then realized I didn't need the phone, not for this. I opened the marks, just a little, until I could feel him down the cool line of power.
«What are you doing, Anita?» Richard asked.
«Telling Jean-Claude the good news.»
«Use a phone, please, with me this close in the car.»
I looked back at him. His skin was running with goosebumps from what little I'd just done. I thought about ignoring him, but that seemed cruel, and I didn't want to be cruel. But I didn't have a chance to decide; Jean-Claude whispered through my head, «Ma petite …»
Richard closed his eyes, as if it hurt him, but I knew that look. It wasn't that it hurt. It was the opposite, it felt good. He didn't like that it felt good.
I said out loud, «I'm here.»
He whispered through my head, «You do not need to say it. I can read it off the tip of your mind, so loudly do you think it. You are not pregnant.»
I fought the urge to bounce in my seat, but managed to say, «Yes, yes.»
I felt him smile. «I am very happy that you are so happy about it. You feel light, as if you could fly.»
It was how I felt, so I just agreed with him.
Richard's thread of warmth trailed through my mind. But he spoke out loud, to both me and Jean-Claude, «Will you please stop this while I'm trapped in the car with it?»
Jean-Claude's voice seemed to grow, so that it filled both of us. «We will talk later about these glad tidings.» Then he was gone.
I turned in the seat so I could see Richard's face. «Why did that bother you?»
«I don't want him crawling in my head right now.»
Noel's voice came from the back. «I can't study if power is crawling all over my skin, sorry.»
I looked at Claudia. «Did you feel it, too?»
She fought it, then finally shivered. «I can usually tell when you are using the triumvirate, but it does seem more powerful today.» She tried to rub her hands on her arms, but with the three of them squished in the seat there really wasn't room to finish the movement. But she made her point.
«Okay,» I said, and turned to face front.
Micah offered his hand over the middle of the seat, and I took it. His hand was warm, but not too warm, in mine. He was trying not to up the power level in the car. I'd had small versions of the ardeur rise while I was driving — not good, not good at all.
I held his hand, and tried not to have my delirious relief bring my power up, and cause his beast to rise for me. Our beasts could flow in and out of each other, but that would be bad right now, so I tried to hold on to my shields, and not let happiness break them down. I knew that sorrow, and anger, could cause my concentration to break, but I'd never realized that happiness could do it, too.
I controlled my happiness all the way to the Circus. The long, stone stairs flew by under my feet. Jean-Claude met me in the living room, and I bounced into his arms, wrapping my arms and legs around him. I kissed him long and deep, and only when we came up for air did I realize that we had company.
Augustine sat on the love seat draped in a black silk shawl that left the tops of his bare shoulders like pale islands peeking out. His yellow curls were in disarray, as if all he'd done was run his fingers through them. He was wearing the bottoms of black silk pajamas that were too long for him. It seemed wrong to call such a muscular man winsome, but that was the word that came to mind. I looked at him, and I felt something similar to what I'd felt when I looked at Jean-Claude. It didn't have the depth and richness that my feelings for Jean-Claude, or Micah, or even Richard had, but it was that first burst of love when lust has worn away a little, and you realize that you still like someone. That it wasn't just lust, but something deeper. I stood there, staring at Auggie, and thought that it sounded like a good idea to wake up some morning beside him when he looked all sleep tousled and winsome. I was in love with him. I should have been terrified, or angry, but I wasn't. It wasn't vampire powers that made me stay calm about it. Maybe we could fix this, the way we'd fixed Requiem's attraction to me. There were options. We could work around it. I wasn't pregnant; we could work around anything else.
«Ma petite.»
I turned back to look at Jean-Claude. I hadn't even noticed the brush of the black satin shirt underneath my hands. The shirt was untucked over black jeans. He had very few jeans. He usually only wore them if he suspected he'd be ruining the clothes, or he was trying to portray himself as accessible in some media event. His feet were bare, the flesh only a little less white than the carpet.