I rubbed my face along the smooth outline of his cross-shaped burn scar. Jean-Claude didn't see the scar as an imperfection, and neither did I. It was something extra to play with when I kissed his chest.
His arms held me tight, and he whispered, "I felt your fear flare to life, ma petite. What has happened?"
I spoke with my face still buried against his chest. "I'm trying not to make Haven my animal to call."
Jean-Claude stroked my hair, trying to soothe me, like a child who's woken from a bad dream, but this bad dream wasn't going to end with me waking up. It wasn't going to be all right.
"You are drawn to Haven, and he to you, ma petite. You have broken his link to Augustine."
I nodded my forehead against his chest. "Yeah, but he's not Auggie's animal to call, he's just one of his lions."
I felt Jean-Claude look behind him.
"That's right," and that was Auggie. He'd come to stand near us. "He's bound to me, but not as an animal to call."
I nodded again, my face still buried against Jean-Claude. I didn't want to see Auggie's naked chest. I didn't want to be distracted by yet another metaphysical problem; one at a time was plenty. "What did I do with the leopards before I got an animal to call, Jean-Claude?"
"I do not understand, ma petite, what…"Then he went very still. He was still holding me. I was still clinging to him, breathing in the scent of his skin, but his heart had stopped beating, his breathing stilled. He was doing that be very still that the old vampires could do, but this time I was pressed against him while he did it. I'd never been this close to him when he went this still. Until it stopped, I hadn't even been aware his heart was beating. It made me look up at him. Made me meet that beautiful, flawless face, and see it look unreal, masklike, as he stared, not at me, but behind me.
I turned and looked where he was looking. Micah stood there, staring at us. The look on his face was enough; he'd had the same awful thought I'd had.
I licked my lips and whispered, "Do the lions have a name for their queen?"
He said it out loud. "I felt it, when you saw him coming down the hallway. He won't be your animal to call. He'll be Rex to your Regina."
39
RICHARD ENDED UP back in Jason's room. Dr. Lillian pumped him full of painkillers, so he'd sleep and heal. I had to promise him guards I trusted at his door to make sure none of our "guests" visited him while he was drugged and helpless. Seemed like a reasonable request to me. In fact it was so practical that it gave me hope that he was finally beginning to realize that life wasn't a Boy Scout jamboree.
Lillian said if Richard had been human, he'd have been on his way to the emergency room, and on crutches for weeks afterward. But he wasn't human and two hours of sleep would heal a lot of the damage. Why not try to heal him with metaphysics? Because Richard had never let me heal him with magic. It was his choice, and I was okay with it. He'd done so much right in the last hour that I'd cut him slack. Acres of slack.
Haven was unconscious in the guest room he'd started the day in, with additional guards. He wouldn't be going anywhere for at least forty-eight hours, so said the doc. Fine with me; out of sight was just dandy for the Cookie Monster and me.
I'd started to get upset again, like pace-the-room upset, but Jean-Claude had touched me, and Auggie had joined him. I ended up on the couch cuddled between them and feeling strangely calm. "You've rolled my mind, haven't you?"
"You have the ability to keep me out, ma petite. Merely decide to push me out, and I will be forced to go. I think you need the calm."
I couldn't argue with that. I turned with my head in Jean-Claude's lap, and looked at Auggie, who had my legs across his lap. "But he's helping you."
"A very little bit," Auggie said, and did that face that was supposed to be humble, but never made it.
"You should really stop trying for the humble head dunk thing," I said, "it doesn't work for you."
He gave me wide eyes — innocent, I think he was going for. He didn't pull that off either. "Are you saying I am not humble?" He grinned, spoiling any attempt at innocence. That smile said he was thinking nefarious things — fun things, but nefarious nonetheless.
"You wouldn't know humble if it bit you on the ass."
He laughed, mouth wide, flashing fangs. If you hadn't seen the fangs you'd have said it was a very human laugh. Jean-Claude had once explained to me that vampires learn to control their faces, voices, every reaction, to hide from their masters. Because any strong emotion can be used against you. After a few centuries you could lose the knack of true laughter, of smiling just because you were happy, not because you thought it would get you something. Facial expressions for the very old vamps become more like flirting: something you do on purpose, for a purpose. Auggie just seemed to laugh.