Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 6-10 - Laurell K. Hamilton [72]
I wanted to say, “Leave her alone,” but I didn’t want to yell. Jean-Claude wouldn’t allow anything illegal, at least not in front of this many witnesses. Bespelling a group of people wasn’t illegal. Mass hypnosis wasn’t permanent. But one on one, it was permanent. Which meant that Damian could stand under the woman’s window and call her out some dark night, no time limitation.
Willie was leaning forward in his chair, his dark eyes on the woman and Damian. He didn’t seem to be looking for assassins right that second.
I watched the woman’s face go blank of all expression, until she was like one asleep. Her empty eyes stared at Damian. He took her hand and leaned against the railing. He rolled both legs over, ending on his feet, still holding her hand. She took two hesitant steps to the railing edge. He put his hands on her waist, under her jacket, and lifted her high in the air, effortlessly, setting her down on the dance floor in her sensible black pumps.
The spotlights on Jean-Claude and Cassandra died until the only light was that on Damian and the woman. He led her to the center of the dance floor. She walked, looking only at him as if the rest of the world no longer existed.
Dammit. What Damian was doing was illegal. Most of the crowd wouldn’t pick it up. Vampires were allowed to use their powers for entertainment purposes so even the media, if they were inside, would be okay with it. But I knew the difference; I knew the law. Jean-Claude had to know I’d recognize what was happening for what it was. Was she an actress? A plant for the show?
I leaned into Willie, close enough to brush the shoulder of his suit. “Is she an actress?”
He turned startled eyes to me, and I could see that the pupils had been swallowed by the brown of his eyes. Down a long dark tunnel there was a hint of fire.
I swallowed hard and eased back from him, glad of the gun in my lap. “It’s real, isn’t it?”
Willie licked his lips nervously. “If I say it is, you’re going to do something to mess up the show. Jean-Claude will get mad at me. I don’t want him mad at me, Anita.”
I shook my head but didn’t argue with him. I’d seen what Jean-Claude did to vamps that angered him. Torture was putting it mildly. I had to find out what was going on but without disrupting things and drawing more attention to myself than I wanted tonight.
Damian stood the woman in the center of the light. He focused her face on something we could not see. She stood there, empty and waiting for his commands. He stood behind her, folding his arms around her waist, rubbing his cheek against her hair. He undid the bow at her throat, and the first three buttons of her blouse. He rubbed his lips along her exposed neck, and I couldn’t take any more. If she was an actress, fine; but if she was an unwilling victim, this had to stop.
“Willie?”
He turned to me slowly, reluctantly. His hunger made him want to watch. His fear of what I was about to ask made him slower.
“What’s up?”
“Go tell Jean-Claude that the show is over.”
Willie shook his head. “If I leave your side and you get wasted, Jean-Claude will kill me. Slow and painful. I’m not leaving your side until I’m supposed to.”
I sighed. Fine. I leaned over the railing and motioned one of the vampire waiters over to me. He glanced off in the dark as if he could see Jean-Claude, even though I couldn’t, then he walked over to me.
“What is it?” he whispered. He leaned in close enough that I could smell the mints on his breath. Nearly ever vampire I knew used breath mints.
I still had the Seecamp naked in my hand. I figured I could afford to get up close and personal with the new dead, so I leaned in and whispered