Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 11-15 - Laurell K. Hamilton [992]
“There are rats in every city,” Sampson said, and like last time it was as if we’d all forgotten him.
Rafael nodded. “There are.”
I had this image of hundreds of rats scampering in the walls, hearing things, and what they heard, the rat king heard. Did it work that way? For real? I wanted to ask, but in this mood, I wasn’t sure how he’d take the question.
“I am the son of two powers, but you did not concern yourself that you had insulted me,” Sampson said.
“I don’t know what you are to Jean-Claude and Anita.”
“So you would ignore me, and see if it got a reaction?”
Rafael nodded.
“I am the next lover in line for Anita.”
“Why have you waited so long?”
“It is the lady’s privilege to keep a man waiting.”
They were supposed to be talking about me, but it was like I was missing the conversation, or not truly understanding it all.
“Would you allow me to jump ahead of you in line?”
Sampson shook his head. “No.”
He looked at Jean-Claude. “Is this your final word, that the sea king’s son is more important than I am, than my rats are, to you?”
“That is not what is being said here, Rafael,” Jean-Claude said.
“I believe that any animal that comes to your bed, or Anita’s bed, is more important to you, Jean-Claude. Deny it if you like, but the proof is in the pudding, eh?”
“The proof is in the eating of it,” Jean-Claude said, “for all puddings look sweet.”
“Do I or any of my people look sweet to you?” he asked.
I felt Claudia’s reaction from across the room. A flare of power, like a metaphysical slap to remind us how really powerful she was. That one splash of heated energy said loud and clear that it didn’t matter how tasty anyone thought she was, she wasn’t playing.
Rafael let out a careful breath and rotated his neck, as if that slap of energy had been more energetic the closer you’d been to it. “I would not force any of my rats into someone’s bed. But if some would choose it, would you take them as blood or flesh donors?”
“Define flesh,” I said.
“Sex,” he said.
Richard shifted beside me on the couch. “The rats don’t give blood to anyone. It was one of your first rules as king. Nikolaos tortured you because you forbade your rats to feed her vampires.”
“She was unstable, and farther away from her was safer for my people. Closer to Jean-Claude seems safer.”
“You’d really let your rats be blood whores?” Richard sounded almost shocked.
“I would.”
“You think that if some of your rats come into our bedrooms, your people will be that much safer?” Micah asked.
“If our positions were reversed, what would you do?”
“Not this,” Richard said.
“I am asking the Nimir-Raj,” Rafael said.
Richard shifted uncomfortably on one side of me while Micah seemed to settle back more comfortably. “I’ve already done what you’re suggesting.”
Rafael nodded. “You offered yourself to Anita and Jean-Claude and now your pard, though one of the smallest groups in the area, is one of the most secure groups in all of St. Louis. How many of your leopards donate blood to the vampires?”
“Most of them.”
Rafael spread his hands, as if to say, See?
I wanted to argue with them, but I tried to be honest. Was his reasoning sound? Through us, Micah was in charge of the furry coalition hotline, which meant he was beginning to be the go-to guy for most of the lycanthropy community. He was the liaison between us and the larger community. His television time was even going up. He gave good sound bite.
The leopards had fewer members than almost any other group, yet no one messed with them. Because I, or Jean-Claude, or our people, kept killing anyone who fucked with them.
I looked at the rat king. “Damn,” I said, softly.
“Yes,” he said.
I glanced down the couch at Richard and Jean-Claude. “He’s not wrong, is he?”
“I cannot argue with some of his reasoning,” Jean-Claude said.
“No,” Richard said, “he’s not right.”
“I didn