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I jerked back from him. I ignored the hurt look on his face. “Go with Alex. Clean up, get some clothes. Or see if your vampire friend—Lucian, right?—is still here.”

Crispin nodded.

“See if he’s still in the hotel. Your own luggage might be here somewhere. Your own clothes. Go, do what I ask.”

“Can I have a good-bye kiss?”

Richard and I said, “No,” at the same time.

I glared at Richard, but said, “Alex, get him out of here.”

I kept my face turned away as the tigers left. I went across the room to the luggage. I needed clothes.

“What happened when you touched him just now?” Richard asked.

“I didn’t want him to leave. It was like a lighter version of what you did to me when you were projecting your emotions all over me. I thought it was just you, but if Crispin did it, even a paler version, maybe it’s something that Marmee Noir did to me.”

“What?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” I laid the Browning beside the suitcase, and started pulling clothes out.

“You need to know what she did to you.” This from Shang-Da.

I was surprised that he cared enough to comment. “I need to call Jean-Claude.”

“Can’t you just open the marks?” Richard said.

“Yeah, but when I fed off your anger, he shielded. He wasn’t sure how to digest anger. I think the phone will be safer.”

“You’re afraid whatever is happening will leak onto Jean-Claude,” Richard said.

“Yes.” I had enough clothes to make me happy. Now I just needed to change. If it had just been Richard, I might have simply gotten dressed, but I didn’t want to dress in front of Jamil and Shang-Da. I know it sounds weird. I mean I was naked in front of them, and they were cool about it. So why was getting dressed more intimate? I don’t know, it just was. I don’t like men who are not my boyfriends watching me put on clothes. There’s always a moment when they let you know with their eyes that they are watching, and not in a completely neutral manner. Or maybe not, maybe it’s just my hang-up, but regardless, I wanted privacy.

“Why go into the bathroom to dress?” Richard said.

“Either I go into the bathroom, or Jamil and Shang-Da go into the hallway.”

“You’re already naked, Anita,” Jamil said, “we can’t see more.”

I shrugged. “Humor me.”

The men all exchanged glances, and then Jamil said, “Do you want us in the hallway, or her in the bathroom?”

“I don’t want her alone with Jason in the shower.”

I might have protested that, but we all have our weakness. Seeing an attractive man all wet was one of mine.

Jamil went for the door, and Shang-Da trailed him. No one argued. The door shut behind them, and we were suddenly alone. The silence was thicker than it should have been.

I glanced at him, and there was that look in his eyes. That look that was very Richard. He was such a Boy Scout most of the time, such a good son, a good boy, a good teacher, a good man. Then, sometimes when we were alone, he’d look at me with those dark eyes. That one look that said underneath all the goodness was someone who liked to be bad. Someone who understood the darkness in me, as well as the light. If he hadn’t hated the darkness in his own soul so terribly much, I could have loved him forever. But you can’t love someone who hates himself so much, and hates you for loving the parts of himself that he hates the most. It’s too complicated a dance to ever win.

I ignored that dark look, and tried my best to pretend he wasn’t there. I actually turned my back on him to dress. It worked for a while, and then I felt him behind me, close behind me.

I turned in time to keep his outstretched hand from touching me. I had jeans on, and a bra, but the shirt was still on the bed with my gun.

“Anita,” he said.

“Richard, don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he asked.

I closed my eyes so I couldn’t see him. That always made it a little easier to turn away. “When you touched me earlier, it was like magic. If it hadn’t hurt, or Crispin hadn’t pulled me away, I would have let you do anything. It’s not real. It’s some metaphysical problem.”

“How can you say