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“I promise to be good.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He gave a small laugh. “You’re better than you used to be at this game. Okay, I promise not to try anything.”

“Then you can get closer, if you want to.”

“You know I do,” he said. I could feel him moving across the bed towards us.

“You also promised to be good.”

“You have no idea how good I can be.” He was very close when he said the last.

“You’re pushing it, Jason.”

“Sorry.” But he didn’t sound sorry. He curled against my back, his body spooning against me, his knees bending into a near perfect line behind mine. We were within an inch of being the same height, which made spooning easy. It also put certain parts of his anatomy up against my butt, and it was hard not to notice that he was happy to be there. Not too long ago, I’d have made him move, but I’d spent months learning shapeshifter etiquette. The men tried their best not to get erections, and not to use them when they did; the women tried to ignore the fact that they had them. That was the rule. It allowed everyone to pretend we were just a bunch of puppies sleeping in a nice friendly pile. To acknowledge anything else meant the system fell apart.

I realized that it didn’t bother me. Over the months I’d learned that it was just one of those involuntary things that happened, nothing truly personal. I think Jason was disappointed that he didn’t get more of a reaction from me. When I didn’t react at all, he moved his hips just a fraction away from me, but snuggled the rest of himself against me more tightly.

I was effectively sandwiched between them, and it reminded me forcibly of waking up between Caleb and Micah. Not a comforting memory. But the smell of Nathaniel’s skin was familiar. The vanilla scent of his hair where it edged my face and stretched under his body was comforting. I drew the scent of him around me like a blanket, pulled my body in as close to the warm curve of him as I could go and not come out the other side, and clung. I acknowledged in my head, though never aloud, that tonight I clung. I held him like he was the last solid thing in the world, the way I’d wanted to hold Jean-Claude and couldn’t.

Jason’s hand smoothed along my hip, but I’d forced his hand up from around my waist when I tucked so tightly against Nathaniel; there was really nowhere else for it to go. His hand was very still against my bare leg, and there was a tension to him, as if he was waiting for me to protest. When I didn’t, he relaxed and even moved his entire body back against me. He’d managed to calm himself. Good for him.

Honestly, it was nice having Jason’s weight at my back. Normally, I spooned Nathaniel—took the dominant position with my body protecting his—my back bare to the room. But I wasn’t feeling particularly dominant. I wanted someone to have my back. And, if it couldn’t be Jean-Claude, or Richard, Jason wasn’t a bad choice. For all his teasing, he was my friend.

Nathaniel fell asleep first; he usually drifted off faster than I did. Somehow I knew that Jason was still awake pressed against my back, his hand on my thigh. I could feel a tension in him as I began to drift off, and strangely, it was comforting. Jason literally had my back. It meant I could sleep, and between the three of us, whatever came through the door, we could probably handle it. Probably.

15

I WAS DREAMING. Something confusing about bodies and running and a ringing noise that made the crowd run faster. Ringing noise? I woke up enough to feel Nathaniel move beside me. He groped over the side of the bed and came up with my cell phone from my pile of clothes. He handed the ringing phone to me. “It’s for you.”

Jason mumbled, “God, what time is it?”

I flipped the phone open and put it to my ear before anyone answered his question. “Yeah, it’s me.” I was only half awake.

“Anita?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“It’s Rafael.”

That made me sit up. Rafael was the wererat king. Their equivalent of an Ulfric. He was also Richard’s ally. “I’m here, what’s up?”

“First, my condolences.