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He smiled up at me, his hair falling back. He smiled broad enough to flash fangs, which he did rarely. A smile this broad stretched the scars, made him notice how tight the skin was, but it was the effect on others that made him not do it, or the perceived effect on others. I remembered this smile from centuries before I was born. It was a smile he had before Julianna died, before holy water was trailed over him to try to chase the devil out. I smiled back, because it eased something in my heart to see that smile again. I was almost certain that the feeling of ease was Jean-Claude’s and not mine, but it felt real.

Asher hugged me, putting his face against my stomach. He went very still, as if he were listening. I stroked his hair, always a surprise, because it was soft and foamy, not as soft as Jean-Claude’s, but as soft as mine. Hair that looked like spun gold shouldn’t be that soft, should it?

He spoke low and soft, in French. I caught the word bebe. Baby. I waited to be irritated, but all I could think while I stared down at him whispering to my stomach was how cute it was. That didn’t sound like me. I looked across the room, and found Jean-Claude’s face gone soft with emotion. I knew who thought it was cute, and it wasn’t me. But with that much of Jean-Claude’s emotion going through me, I had to agree. I held my hand out to Jean-Claude, while the other hand stroked Asher’s hair. Jean-Claude took my hand and hugged me from behind, pressing his body to Asher’s arms around my waist. So happy, Jean-Claude was so happy. It filled us both, so warm, so good, like being wrapped in your favorite blanket cuddled against someone you love. I leaned into Jean-Claude’s arm, and he laid a kiss against my neck. Asher raised his face, and smiled up at us both. His face somehow looked younger, the way he must have looked centuries ago when he was alive.

The happiness was real, touchable; then the thinnest slice of regret crept into Jean-Claude’s mind. I caught the thought before he could hide it, that happiness like this does not last. That the last time he’d been this happy, it had all gone horribly wrong. He buried his face in the crook of my neck to hide his expression from Asher. I touched his face, gave him my eyes, and let him see that I’d “heard” his thought, and it was all right. It was all right to fear the-great-bad-thing coming to get you, because I believed in the-great-bad-thing, too.

When I was younger, I’d wanted someone to promise me that things would work out and nothing bad would ever happen again. But I understood now that that was a child’s wish. No one could promise that. No one. The grown-ups could try, but they couldn’t promise, not and mean it. I stood there between the two of them, and knew that I would do whatever it took to keep them safe, to keep them happy. I’d been willing to kill for the people I loved for a very long time; now I had to start living for them.

28

EVERYONE I CONSIDERED a boyfriend or a lover left. I wanted some alone time. But truly alone was too dangerous. Requiem and some bodyguards stayed. I dressed in the bathroom, which seemed stupid since everyone had seen me naked, but I needed some privacy.

While Jean-Claude and Asher were with me, I felt utterly calm about the baby, even happy. Once they were gone the panic set back in. One of them, I wasn’t sure which, had used vampire wiles on me. Or maybe, I was just picking up someone’s emotions. Hell, I was bound metaphysically to so many different men, it didn’t even have to be Jean-Claude’s emotions I was picking up. All I knew for certain was that they weren’t mine.

I got dressed in the emergency clothes I’d started keeping in Jean-Claude’s room. Jeans, black T-shirt, jogging shoes, good leather belt, and enough underwear to go under it all. The belt helped hold my shoulder holster. The familiar tightness of it made me feel better. More secure. The security had little to do with being able to shoot people. Most of the people making my life hard, I loved, and didn’t want to shoot. No, the gun was more psychological-better