Cerulean Sins( Anita Blake - 11 )(138)

"I touched the black sheets, because I thought she was only sleeping."

"She is sleeping," I said.

Valentina shook her head, solemnly. "Non, to say she sleeps is to say any vampire sleeps. It is not sleep."

"She's not dead, not dead the way the rest of you are when you sleep."

"True, but she is not asleep either."

I shrugged. "Whatever you call it, she's not awake."

"And for that we are truly grateful, are we not?" She spoke softly enough that I leaned in towards her to hear the words.

"Yes," I whispered back, "we are."

She reached up and touched my neck, and I flinched, not from the touch, but from the tension of our words. She didn't laugh this time. "Only you and I have been touched by that dark."

"Belle Morte, too," I said.

Valentina looked a question at me.

"Belle has called me into some kind of dream when the Darkness rose around us."

"Our mistress has not informed us of this," Valentina said.

"It only happened today, early today," I said.

"Hmm," Valentina said, folding her fan tight, running it through her tiny hands, each tiny nail done in gold. "Musette should know of this." She gazed up at me, and there was so much more of her than there should have been. She would always appear to be eight, a petite eight, but her eyes held an adult's awareness, and more.

"There are some unexpected guests that are about to make their appearance. I cannot spoil the surprise, for that would anger Musette, and through her, Belle, but I think that you and I will be equally unhappy with them. I think that you and I more than any will see it for the disaster it is."

"I don't understand," I said.

"Jean-Claude will explain their presence to you, when they appear, but only you and I will truly grasp why the mere fact that they are here is bad, very bad."

I frowned. "I'm sorry, but you've lost me."

She sighed and unfurled her fan with a practiced movement. "We will speak again after the surprise." She turned to walk back towards the curtain.

I called after her. "What saved you from the dark?"

She turned, the fan folding away again, as if playing with it had become habitual. "What saved you?"

"A cross, and friends."

She gave a small smile that left her eyes as empty and gray as a winter storm. "My human nurse."

"Did she see what was on the bed?"

"No, but it saw her. She began to shriek. She shrieked, and shrieked, and stood there, staring at nothing, until she fell down dead. Her body lay there for a very long time because no one wished to enter the room."

Valentina opened her fan with a snap. I managed not to jump this time. "The smell got to be quite atrocious." She smiled, and made a joke of it, a vicious joke, but she couldn't make her expression match the humor. Her eyes were haunted, no matter how cruel the smile. She left through a flick of black drapes.

All three of us visibly relaxed when the drapes swung shut, and we shared a glance. "Why do I think I'm not the only one too tense to pull this off tonight?" I said.

Asher kept Jean-Claude's hand, but moved around so he was facing both of us. "Musette smells a lie, and she will not let it rest."

"Valentina and I just finished talking about the mother of all bad vampires, and you're already back to harping on Musette."

Jean-Claude squeezed my hand, and sighed.

"The Sweet Dark will not take me tonight, Anita. It will not pin me to a table and unfasten my clothes and force itself upon me. Musette will."

"You're in our bed now, rules say she can't have you."

"But she smells that it is a lie."

"I can't help that the fact that we haven't had intercourse comes up on vampire radar as lying about fucking you."

"Musette wishes it to be untrue, ma petite. She is searching for anything that will allow her more room to play. Your doubts, Asher's doubts, give her that room."

I closed my eyes and counted slowly to ten. When I opened them, they were both giving me their best blank faces. It was like looking at two superb paintings, suddenly made three-dimensional, very lifelike, but not alive.

I squeezed Jean-Claude's hand, and he squeezed back. "Don't go all strange on me, guys. I'm having enough trouble tonight."

They both blinked, one long graceful blink, and they were "alive" again. I shivered and took my hand back from Jean-Claude. "That is so disturbing," I said.

"Pourquoi, ma petite?"

"Why. He has to ask, why." I shook my head, and crossed my arms. I had to cradle my breasts, because, thanks to the bra and the neckline, there was no way to cross my arms over my chest.