Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 6-10 - Laurell K. Hamilton [864]
Even before the marks had merged I’d had moments like this. Moments when their thoughts invaded mine, overrode mine. The images had been the worst—nightmare flashes of feeding on the warm bodies of animals, of drinking blood from people I didn’t know. It had been this mingling, this loss of self, that had terrified me, sent me running for anything that would keep me whole—keep me myself. Tonight, that just didn’t seem important. Definitely an aftereffect of the metaphysical union of marks. But knowing what it was didn’t make it go away. It was a dangerous night.
Jean-Claude said, “Ma petite, are you well? I am feeling much better, energized in fact. Are you still ill?”
I shook my head. “No, I feel fine.” Fine didn’t really cover it. Energized was a good word for it, but there were others. How long could it take to rescue the wereleopards from yet another disaster? The night wasn’t young, dawn would come, and I wanted to be alone with them before that. I realized with a jolt that ran all the way down my body, that tonight was it. If we could get some privacy and not be interrupted, all things would suddenly be possible.
Richard and Jean-Claude both stood up, in a boneless movement of grace for the vampire and pure energy for the werewolf. I gazed at them as they stood above me, and I was suddenly eager to have the other business done with. I wasn’t as worried about the leopards as I should have been, and that did bother me. Whatever this effect was, it was distracting me from more important things. Saving the leopards was why I’d come. It was the first time I’d really thought of them in a while.
I shook my head trying to clear it of sex and magic and the weight of possibilities in Richard’s eyes. Jean-Claude’s eyes were more cautious, but I’d taught him caution where I was concerned.
I held my hands up to both of them. I never asked for help to stand unless I was bleeding or something was broken. The two of them exchanged glances, then they held their hands out to me, again in perfect unison, like choreographed dancers who knew what the other would do.
They could feel my desire, but that had always been there; it told them nothing. I took their hands and let them lift me up. They were both still looking unsure, almost suspicious, as if they were waiting for me to recoil from them and run screaming from the intimacy of it all. I had to smile. “If we can get everyone all tucked in safe and sound before dawn, all things will be possible.”
They exchanged another look between them. Jean-Claude made a small movement, as if encouraging Richard. It was a tiny, almost-push with his head, as if to say, Go ahead, ask. Normally, seeing them plot behind my back pissed me off, but not that night.
“Do you mean . . .” Richard let the thought trail off.
I nodded, and Richard’s hand tightened on mine. Jean-Claude’s hand was strangely quiet in mine. “You do realize, ma petite, that this new . . .” he hesitated, “willingness, may be a by-product of joining the marks tonight. I don’t wish you to accuse us later of trickery.”
“I know what it is, and I don’t care.” I should have, but I didn’t. It was like being drunk, or drugged, and even thinking that made no difference.
I was looking at Jean-Claude, and I saw him let out the breath he’d been holding. I felt Richard do the same. It was as if a great weight had been taken from both of them. And I knew that I was that burden. I’d try not to be a burden from now on. “Let’s get this over with and go get the leopards,” I said.
Jean-Claude raised my hand to his mouth, brushing the knuckles across his lips. “And be gone from this place.”
I nodded. “And be gone from this place,” I said.