It wasn't just Auggie's body that reacted. His power flared from his hand, and the warmth of his lap, through the silk jammies, and my jeans. I felt his body like heat through the cloth. That heat found the ardeur curled inside my body. Auggie called it, and like a well-trained dog, it followed his power.
Micah whispered, "Oh, God." I think he would have rolled off and fled for safety, but Nathaniel's arm tightened on us both, and Auggie's other hand pressed into his back. He wasn't trapped, but with the ardeur, willpower is so hard to come by that small things can tip the balance.
Jean-Claude's power pulsed to life against me, but it wasn't his ardeur that rose. The cool power of the grave spread out from his body like cool, soothing water to quench the heat that Auggie had awakened. Jean-Claude's power spilled through me, over me, and spread. It spread to Micah, so that his eyes lost their panic. Nathaniel's hands began to relax in their desperate hold on our bodies. Auggie's breath came out in a long, shaking sigh.
"That was very bad of you, Augustine," Jean-Claude said in a voice that was thicker than normal with his French accent. Which meant he'd had to work harder at stopping the ardeur than that easy flow of power had led us to believe.
Micah half-collapsed on top of me, his head burying against my shoulder, so that I could suddenly see Auggie's grinning face. He was totally unrepentant. "Jean-Claude, can you truly blame me with all this bounty writhing on my lap?" He slapped Micah's ass.
Micah rolled off the couch, and took me with him, because I let him. We ended on the floor close to Nathaniel. Micah and I stood, drawing Nathaniel to his feet. We moved back from the couch, so the three of us faced the vampires, faces no longer friendly. I'd shut both vampires out of my head, because I wasn't sure how to shut Auggie out without shutting Jean-Claude off, too. I just didn't have the finer points of metaphysics down yet.
"I may not blame you, but they will," Jean-Claude said, and he sounded almost satisfied. I got just a flash of why: he was pleased that Auggie was falling into the same traps that once had been his own downfall. Then he shut the link between us, shut it tight, as if he didn't want me to know what else he was thinking. Fine with me; I had my own reasons for not wanting to share.
There had been a second, just a second, when the ardeur rising while all four of them were touching me hadn't seemed like a bad idea. Micah, Nathaniel, and Jean-Claude were one thing, but Auggie had rolled me. Yeah, I was in love with him, too, but it was because of vampire wiles. Auggie had trapped me into love, and that should be punished, not rewarded. Richard would probably say that I was pretty good at punishing true love, so love by deceit should carry a higher penalty, shouldn't it?
"I don't know you," Micah said, "and you don't get to touch me."
Auggie spread his hands wide, and made a how-was-I-to-know gesture. "My deepest apologies, but if people keep falling into my lap, I'm allowed to take a little advantage."
"No," I said, "you're not."
He narrowed those charcoal-gray eyes at me. "I love you, Anita. Do you love me?"
I almost said no, but knew he'd smell the lie. I shrugged. "Yeah, thanks to your power, yeah, I do." I shrugged again. "But what has that got to do with anything?"
"Most women who love me don't act this angry. Most women in love are generous to their lovers."
"In sex, I'm generous; everything else, you gotta work for it."
Auggie looked at Jean-Claude. "She tastes of the truth."
Jean-Claude nodded. "Ma petite is a demanding lover in every way."
"Usually when a man says a woman is a demanding lover, it's a good thing, but somehow I don't think that's what you mean," Auggie said.
Jean-Claude gave me a smile, that smile that was only for me, and sometimes for Asher. The smile said he loved me, and I had to smile back. I felt my face soften, and the anger fade. I wasn't angry at Jean-Claude. I had finally gotten better at not spreading my anger over everyone. "Ma petite and I have labored long together to form the love that you have gained by subterfuge." He turned and looked at Auggie. "I was your friend, but you have used your arts to make me feel for you what you have not earned. But I, like ma petite, know how to love and not be a prisoner to that love. You can win, or steal, our love, but you cannot steal a true relationship with us; that must be won." He turned, and curled his long legs up on the couch. He put his arm across the back of the couch, not quite touching the other man's bare shoulder. He cradled his head on his outstretched arm, letting all those black curls spill along the white of the couch. I couldn't see his face, but I knew the look. It was a charming, seductive look, his teasing look, when he really didn't expect anything to happen. He just wanted to remind you how scrumptious he was. He usually used the look only when he was mad, or I was. It was a look to either end a fight, or begin one.