Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 6-10 - Laurell K. Hamilton [227]
That awful pressure inside of me eased, then shrank. It was like Jean-Claude was a wind blowing out Padma’s fire. But it cost him. I felt his heart slow. The blood in his veins flowed slow and slower. The warmth that mimicked life was leaving him, and death seeped inside to fill its place.
I turned in his arms so I could see his face. The face was pale and perfect, and you’d never have known, just by watching, what it had cost him to save me.
Hannah turned to us, her battered face set in calm lines. “My apologies, Jean-Claude. My compatriot has let your servant’s defiance best his judgment.”
Willie stepped away from Hannah, shaking his head. “Damn you, damn you.”
Hannah’s grey eyes turned to him, angry. “Do not tempt me, little one. You cannot trade insults with me and survive.”
“Willie,” Jean-Claude said. There was no power to the word, just a warning. It was enough. Willie stepped back.
Jean-Claude looked at the Traveler in his new body. “If he had killed Anita, I might have died with her. Is that why you have truly come? To kill us?”
“I swear it is not.” Where he’d made Willie glide, Hannah was awkward on her stiletto heels. He didn’t fall, but he didn’t glide either. It was almost heartening. He wasn’t perfect.
“To prove my sincerity,” he said, “take your warmth back from your servant. We will not stop you.”
“He thrust me out,” Padma said. “How can you allow him to grow strong again?”
“You sound afraid,” the Traveler said.
“I do not fear him,” Padma said.
“Then let him feed.”
I leaned into Jean-Claude’s chest, resting my cheek against the mound of silken ruffles on the front of his shirt. His heart had stopped beating. He wasn’t even breathing. He’d used too much of himself up.
I watched Padma from the safety of Jean-Claude’s arms and knew I would kill him. I knew that Padma wanted us dead. I’d felt it. No one as powerful as he was lost control that badly. He’d nearly killed me, us, and it would all have been a tragic accident. Bullshit.
The Browning lay where I’d dropped it, but I’d tasted Padma’s power now. Silver might not be enough to kill him. Wounding him seemed like a really bad idea. Kill or leave him the hell alone, like any big predator. Don’t fuck with it unless you can finish the job.
“Feed from your servant,” Padma said. “I will not stop you. The Traveler has spoken.” That last held a touch of bitterness. Council member or not, Padma feared the Traveler, or he’d have fought him more. Compatriots but not equals.
I knelt, gripping Jean-Claude’s arms through the rough lace and the glittering material of his jacket. His arms felt reassuringly solid, real. “What…”
He stopped me with fingers on my lips, a delicate touch. “It is not blood that I need, Padma. It is her warmth. It is only a lesser master that must needs take blood from his servants.”
Padma’s face had gone empty, blank. “You have not lost your knack of insulting without being insulting, Jean-Claude.”
I stared up at Jean-Claude, even kneeling he was taller. His voice eased through my mind. “No questions, ma petite, or they will know you are not wholly mine.”
Since I had a lot of questions, that pretty much sucked. But if I couldn’t ask direct questions, there were other ways. “Does the Beast Master have to sink fang to jump-start his heart?”
“Oui, ma petite.”
“How…vulgar,” I said. It was one of the most civilized insults I’d ever come up with. It worked, too.
Padma hissed at us. “Do not test my patience too far, Jean-Claude. The Traveler is not the head of the council. You have enough enemies here now that a vote might not go your way. Press me too hard and I will force a vote.”
“Force a vote to what end?” Jean-Claude asked. “The Traveler has promised that you are not here to kill me. What else would you vote upon, Master of Beasts.”
“Get on with it, Jean-Claude.” Padma’s voice was low with a sound that was almost a growl. It sounded more animal than vampire.
Jean-Claude touched my face gently,