Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, Book 14. Danse Macabre(68)
Nathaniel smiled and pushed in against us both, pressing his chest against Richard's arm. Richard moved away, but he tried to take me with him, and frankly, I just didn't want to be in the middle of it. So I stopped moving, but Nathaniel was so close I couldn't step forward either. Richard had choices: pick me up, or hurt me to move me, or let me go, or move away without me, or stay where he was, with Nathaniel touching him.
Richard tried to move back, while I tried not to move, and Nathaniel just watched us, from an inch away. Richard wasn't willing to move without me, or leave me alone with Nathaniel. The symbolism was too raw for words.
Nathaniel spoke low and soft, his lavender eyes raised to the taller man's face, his chest almost pinning Richard's arm between us. «You're like a dog marking your territory. Maybe you should piss on her, so we'll all know she's yours.»
I froze between them, because this was going to be bad.
Richard growled low and deep, the sound of it vibrating over my skin, and into Nathaniel's body. We both shivered, but I don't think it was for the same reasons.
«Stop it, both of you,» I said.
«She's not a bone, that only one of us can have,» Nathaniel said.
Richard growled again and this time Richard's power rippled along my skin like little slaps of electricity. Nathaniel and I spoke at the same time. I said, «That hurts»; Nathaniel said, «Yummy.»
«You are such a freak,» Richard said, almost a yell.
«Maybe, but this freak is willing to do for the woman he loves and his baby what you won't do.»
Richard jerked away so suddenly, it made me stumble. Nathaniel caught me. But Richard backed up. Nathaniel backed him down not with power, but with truth.
Nathaniel held me, and I let him, because if I'd pulled away now, the whole show would have been wasted. I'd hung around the lycanthropes long enough to understand what was happening. Nathaniel, my submissive Nathaniel, was stepping up to bat. He was showing the most dominant person in my bed that he was a force to be reckoned with. Why tonight? Why did Nathaniel have to draw his line in the sand tonight? The baby, of course, the baby. Something about the whole baby question had made Nathaniel feel like he had to be more dominant. Or maybe he, like me, was just tired of watching Richard say he was the dominant sweetie in my life, but acting like he was my fuck buddy. Nothing wrong with a fuck buddy, but you can't be the love of someone's life and a fuck buddy. They are mutually exclusive.
Nathaniel held me, and I wrapped my arms around him, hiding my face against his chest, because I wasn't sure what expression was on my face. Nathaniel had stood up to Richard and won. What else was going to change just because of the possibility of a baby?
«I'll take Valentina. You guys stay and talk business.»
«You're part of the business,» Micah said from behind us.
«But you can fill me in later, and I'm not really going to have an opinion on the vampire stuff.» He grinned. «I'm also the least likely to object to anyone Anita is willing to take as a pomme, or a lover.» He kissed me on the forehead, and whispered, «Besides, Valentina doesn't bother me.»
I looked up at him. «And that bothers me a little, that you're not creeped.»
The grin softened to a smile. «I know.» He kissed me on the mouth, soft, gentle. He pulled away, and I let him go, still not sure what had changed in him.
Valentina came to him, and he took her hand. He began to lead her toward the far hallway. She looked back and stuck her tongue out at us.
Claudia sent Lisandro to accompany them. Aloud, she said, «Make sure Bartolome isn't doing anything he shouldn't.» But I was pretty sure after Valentina's show with Sampson, she just didn't trust any of the non-vamps alone with her. Me, either.
17
«HOW CAN YOU love him?» Richard asked.
I turned to look at him. He stood, shoulders hunched, rubbing his hands up and down his arms, as if he were cold. But I knew he wasn't cold, or at least not the kind of cold that blankets and skin warmth could fix. It was a coldness of the heart, or the soul, or the mind. That cold that eats a hole through the middle of who you are, and leaves something dark and awful behind.
I looked at him, and wondered how to answer his question. How to answer without making the pain in his body worse. I sighed, and finally realized that the only thing I could give him was the truth. Whatever we were to each other, whatever else we might someday be to each other, truth, at least truth, was between us.
«I asked you a question,» he said, and his power warmed the room like opening an oven to peek inside. The heat dissipated almost as soon as I'd felt it He was trying to control himself.
«Why do I love Nathaniel?» I asked.