Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 6-10 - Laurell K. Hamilton [157]
He was dressed in jeans, white T-shirt, jeans jacket, and white tennis shoes. His hair foamed around his face in a mass of golden brown waves. A claw had caught him across the face, leaving angry red welts that chased across the entire left side of his face. The injury looked days old. It had to have happened after I left last night.
He had my leather coat in one hand and the Browning in the other. He just stood there in the doorway.
I sat on the bed. Neither of us said anything. I wasn’t slick and sophisticated enough for this. What do you say to boyfriend A when he finds you naked in the bed of boyfriend B? Especially if boyfriend A turned into a monster the night before and ate someone. I bet Miss Manners didn’t cover this at all.
“You slept with him, didn’t you?” His voice was low, almost soft, as if he was trying very hard not to yell.
My gut tightened. I was not ready for this fight. I was armed, but I was naked. I would have traded the gun for clothes in a hot second.
“I would say it’s not what it looks like, but it is.” My attempt at humor did not work.
He strode into the room like an approaching storm, his anger riding before him in a crackling wave. The power poured over me and I wanted to scream.
“Stop leaking all over me.”
It stopped him, almost literally in midmotion. “What are you talking about?”
“Your power, aura, it’s raining all over me. Stop it.”
“Why? Does it feel good? Until you panicked last night, it felt good, didn’t it?”
I shoved the Firestar under the pillow and stood, clutching the sheet to me. “Yeah, it felt good until you shapeshifted on top of me. I was covered in that clear gunk, thick with it.” The memory was new enough that I shuddered and looked away from him.
“So you fucked Jean-Claude. Oh, that makes perfect sense.”
I looked at him and felt an answering anger. If he wanted to fight, he’d come to the right place. I held up my right hand. It was covered in a wonderful multicolored bruise. “You did this when you knocked my gun away.”
“There’d been enough killing, Anita. No one else had to die.”
“Do you really think that Raina is just going to let you take over? No way. She’ll see you dead first.”
He shook his head, his face set in stubborn lines. “I am Ulfric now. I’m in control. She’ll do what I say.”
“Nobody bosses Raina; not for long. Has she offered to fuck you yet?”
“Yes,” he said.
The way he said it stopped me, brought my breath up short. “Did you, after I left?”
“It would serve you right if I had.”
I couldn’t meet his eyes on that one. “If you make her lupa, she’ll let it go. She just doesn’t want to lose her power base.” I forced myself to look up, to meet his eyes.
“I don’t want Raina.” Something passed over his face so raw, that it brought tears to my eyes. “I want you.”
“You can’t want me now, not after last night.”
“Is that why you slept with Jean-Claude? Did you think it would keep you safe from me?”
“I wasn’t thinking that clearly,” I said.
He laid the coat and the gun on the bed. He gripped the end of the bed. The wood groaned under the strength of his hands. He jerked back from it as if he hadn’t meant to do it. “You slept with him in this bed. Right here.” He put his hand over his eyes as if he was trying to erase an image inside his head.
He screamed wordlessly.
I took a step towards him, hand out, and stopped. How could I comfort him? What could I say to make this better? Not a damn thing.
He jerked at the bottom sheet, tugging it until it came loose. He grabbed the top mattress and pulled it off the bed. He grabbed the bottom of the bed and lifted.
I screamed, “Richard!”
The bed was antique solid oak, and he tossed it on its side like it was a toy. He pulled the bottom sheet off. The silk tore with a sound like skin peeling back. He was on his knees with the