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“You wanted this talk, not me. I wanted to make love. I wanted to clean up, feed the ardeur, and be together, but you had to get all hung up on the size of everyone’s equipment. I know it’s a guy thing to worry about that, but this wasn’t the time to bring it up.”

“You’re right, it was stupid, but I’m stupid around you, Anita. You make me say things, do things, that I know are bad for the relationship.”

“I don’t make you do anything. You choose to say and do things that spoil stuff. Your choice, not mine.”

“Fine, you’re right. I choose to say and do this shit. I could have let it go and we’d be having sex right now, and it would be great sex. But I really do want to know what Micah has that I don’t. What magic does he have that made you move him into your house, live with him, when you wouldn’t do it for me?”

God, we were going to do the big fight. The fight. I did not want to do this, ever, but I especially didn’t want to do this with the Harlequin in town, and heaven knew what nasty surprises headed our way. “Jean-Claude explained to you that it was partly vampire powers that drew Micah and me together.”

“You’re a succubus, a vampire that feeds on sex; yeah, he told me.”

I saw something on his face. “You don’t believe him.”

“I don’t believe it’s permanent. I think if you could get enough space between yourself and Jean-Claude’s power, it would go away.”

“Richard, this isn’t Jean-Claude’s power anymore; it’s mine.”

He shook his head, his arms crossing over that lovely chest. “You aren’t a vampire, Anita. You can’t have vampire powers. They’re still part of the triumvirate we have with Jean-Claude.”

“Richard, this is real. You can’t wish it away.”

“What, that you’re some kind of sex-crazed demon? I don’t believe that. It’s more of Jean-Claude’s power, or Belle Morte’s, or even Marmee Noir. Jesus, Anita, you have had so many vampires running through your mind, you don’t know what is you and what is them anymore.”

There was some truth to what he was saying, but…“Richard, I have forged a triumvirate of power with Nathaniel and Damian. That’s me, not Jean-Claude. That’s real.”

He shook his head again. “There’s got to be a way to undo it.”

I just stared at him. This was not the talk I thought we’d be having. “Richard, I am a succubus, me, not Jean-Claude, not Belle Morte, not Mommie Dark, me.”

“Humans can’t be succubi.”

“Maybe not, but then humans can’t have a vampire servant or an animal to call, and I have both of those.”

“Because you’re Jean-Claude’s human servant.”

“Richard, you saw what happened when I tried to undo that connection. I would have died and taken Nathaniel and Damian with me.”

He settled back into the water, giving me angry eyes. “Jean-Claude told me the theory. That your version of the ardeur helps you see the deepest desire in someone’s heart and grant it, and make them into what you most need. Micah needed his people safe; you killed Chimera for him. You needed what from Micah?”

“A helpmate, a partner, someone to help me run the furry coalition, and help me run the wereleopards that I’d inherited when I killed their old master.”

“I could have been your partner,” he said.

“You didn’t want to be my partner. You want your own life, not to be just an adjunct to mine.”

“What does that mean? That I won’t give up my job for you?”

“That I needed someone to do the coalition full time, and you have your career.”

“That can’t be all Micah is to you.”

“He’s there for me, Richard. He’s there for me and the people I love. He doesn’t fight me all the time. He says yes more than he says no.”

“And I just say no.”

“Sometimes.”

“Nathaniel needed to belong to someone; now he belongs to you. I get that. But what did he do for you?”

“I needed a wife,” I said.

“What?”

“I needed a 1950s wife to make my life run smooth. I needed someone to be my wife, and he’s really good at it.”

“And I want you to be my wife, is that it?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Why didn’t your ardeur look into my heart and see what I most needed, and make us into the