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“So there really is a rumor that no one gets to join Jean-Claude’s kiss without fucking him.”

“Or you,” Truth said.

“I’m really disappointed that one isn’t true, by the way,” Wicked said, with a grin.

“Me, too,” Graham said.

I gave them both the look they deserved.

“I do not wish to,” Truth said.

They looked at him. “Why not?” Graham asked.

“Because I am already much in thrall to Anita. If I bedded her, I would be little more than the slave Joseph accused us of being.”

“Trust me, guys, you’re overestimating my appeal,” I said.

“I don’t know about that,” Haven said. He spread my hand on his palm and touched my hand with the fingers of his other hand. “You have such small hands.”

“Delicate and dangerous,” Wicked said.

Haven started talking, almost as if to himself. “I’m not a complicated guy. I know that. I’m not stupid, but I’m not exactly a brain trust either. I know that, too. I like being a guy. I like being muscle. I like hurting people. I don’t mind killing people. I like my job. I like drinking with the guys, a little poker, and strip clubs, fucking. It was a good life.”

“You make it sound like it’s over,” I said.

“I went back to Chicago, to my life, but it didn’t work anymore. I still liked hurting people, but I started wondering if you’d hate me for doing some of the stuff Auggie had me doing. I kept thinking, What would she think? Wondering what you’d think started getting in the way of my job. Auggie noticed it.”

“I sent you back home, Haven. I didn’t make you think about me.” I tried to take my hand back, but he wrapped those long fingers around me, and I didn’t fight it.

“Yeah, you did, Anita, maybe not on purpose, but you did. First it fucked up my job, then it fucked up my fun. I started looking at my friends and what we did, and thought, She’d be disappointed. She’d think it was stupid.” He shook his head. “Damn it, I’ve never let any woman mess me up like this.”

“Haven, I…”

“Let me finish,” he said.

I wasn’t sure I wanted him to finish, but I let him.

“Women are just for fucking, or marrying so you can have kids if you want them. Women don’t count, not in my world, not in Auggie’s world. But you counted, to him, and to me. But especially to me. No matter what woman I was with, or how good the sex was, the moment it was over, it felt bad. It wasn’t enough. Damn you, damn you, I started thinking about relationships. Having a girl to talk to. Stupid shit that I gave up before I hit fifteen, and suddenly it was all back. I was this kid again, thinking there was more to life than being muscle for Auggie. There isn’t more to life, Anita. There isn’t anymore.” His voice had sunk to a low growl.

I didn’t know what to say. Sorry seemed lame, and It’s not my fault seemed worse. I didn’t mean to fuck up your life seemed the most accurate. I finally settled for, “I didn’t make you rethink your life, Haven.”

“Yeah, you did. Auggie says you did. He says you didn’t mean to do it, but you mind-fucked me just like Belle Morte does, or can. I’m your lion, Anita. I’m yours. Yours in a way I’ve never been anyone’s. You make me want to be a better person. How fucking lame is that?”

Truth’s quiet voice came. “A lady always makes a man want to be better than he is. Belle Morte did not make anyone want to be better. She made you obsess about her, follow her like a dog, but you did not think, Will she think less of me if I do this awful thing? She did things so much worse than anything we were willing to do; even Wicked found her immoral.”

“Auggie said it was the same mind-fucking shit that Belle Morte did.”

“Your attraction to Anita may have been vampire powers, but your reaction to her beyond that is not,” Wicked said, and there was a note of almost sadness to his voice.

“What does that mean?” Haven asked, his voice irritated.

“It means, my good fellow,” Wicked said, “you’re in love with the woman.”

“No,” Haven said.

“Only love of a good woman will make a man question every choice, every