Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 6-10 - Laurell K. Hamilton [105]
“Don’t do this, Richard, please.”
He was staring past me at Jean-Claude. I didn’t dare look behind to see what mischief the vampire was doing; I had my hands full with the werewolf in front of me.
Something flickered across his face. I was sure Jean-Claude had done something behind my back. Richard made a sound more animal than human and rushed for the bed. I didn’t move out of the way. I stood my ground, and when he was even with me, moving past me, I threw my body into him and threw him in a nearly perfect shoulder roll. His momentum did the rest. Maybe if I’d let go of his arm, we could have avoided the rest, but I made the classic mistake. I didn’t think Richard would really hurt me.
He grabbed the arm that was holding him and flung me across the room. He was flat on his back and didn’t have much leverage, and that was all that saved me. I was airborne for just a second and rolled along the carpet when I hit. The world was still spinning when my hand went for the knife. I couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in my own head, but I knew, I knew he was coming.
He touched my arm, rolled me over, and I laid the silver blade against his neck. He froze, bent over, trying, I think, to help me stand. Richard and I stared at each other from inches away. The anger was gone from his face. His eyes were normal, as lovely as ever, but I kept the knife against the smooth skin of his neck, dimpling it so he knew I meant business.
He swallowed carefully. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Anita. I am so sorry.”
“Back off,” I said.
“Are you hurt?”
“Back off, Richard. Now!”
“Let me help you.” He bent closer, and I pressed the blade in hard enough to draw a trickle of blood.
“Let go of me, Richard.”
He let go and moved slowly away. He looked puzzled and hurt. He touched the blood at his neck as if he didn’t know what it was.
When he was out of reach, I let myself sag against the carpet. Nothing was broken, of that I was sure, and I wasn’t bleeding. If he’d thrown me into a wall with that much force, it would have been a different story. I’d been dating him for seven months, nearly slept with him more than once, and in all that time, I hadn’t fully appreciated what I was playing with.
“Ma petite, are you all right?” Jean-Claude was standing at the foot of the bed. He was watching Richard closely as he moved towards me.
“I’m all right, I’m all right.” I glared up at him. “What did you do behind my back to piss him off?”
Jean-Claude looked embarrassed. “I did tease Monsieur Zeeman. Perhaps I even wanted a fight. Jealousy is a foolish emotion. How was I to know you would not move out of the way of a charging werewolf?”
“I don’t back up, not for anyone.” I almost laughed. “Though next time, maybe I’ll make an exception.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Richard said. “But seeing you together like that . . . Knowing you’re with him isn’t the same thing as having it rubbed in my face.” His anger had vanished the moment he’d hurt me. Horror at what he’d done, fear for my safety, sanity returning in a rush.
“We were only kissing, Richard, nothing else, no matter what he wants you to believe.”
“I was suddenly so jealous. I’m sorry.”
“I know it was an accident, Richard. I’m just glad there wasn’t a wall closer.”
“I could have hurt you badly.” He took a step towards me, hands reaching, and stopped himself. “And you want me to let the beast loose enough to kill. Don’t you understand how hard I fight to control it?”
“I understand better than I did a few minutes ago,” I said.
“Your bags are in the hallway. I’ll bring them in, then I’ll go.” This was the look I’d been dreading. This crushed, puppy dog look. The anger had been easier to deal with, if more dangerous.
“Don’t go.”
They both looked at me.
“Jean-Claude staged this.” I held a hand up before he could protest. “Oh, I know you enjoyed yourself, but you still wanted Richard to see us together. You wanted to pick