Burnt Offerings - Laurell K. Hamilton [167]
I could feel Yvette’s mouth like a siphon, sucking the power away. I thrust it into her and sent her reeling from us, drunk on more than blood.
Freed of Yvette’s body, Jason moved against me. He kissed me as if he’d climb inside and pull me around him, and I kissed him back. I’d welcomed Raina’s munin, and I didn’t know how to turn it off.
I felt his lower body react, felt him come, and that was enough to help me swim back into control. What a nice embarrassing moment to be driving again.
Jason collapsed on top of me, panting, but not from fear. I turned my face away so that I wouldn’t catch a glimpse of anyone gathered around us. Yvette lay on her side near us, curled into a ball, blood trailing down her chin. She licked the blood, almost halfheartedly as if even that small effort were too much. She spoke French to me: “Je reve de toi.” I’d heard a version of this before from Jean-Claude. She said she’d dream of us.
I heard myself say, “Why do the French always know exactly what to say at times like this?”
Jean-Claude knelt beside us. “It is genetic, ma petite.”
“Ah,” I said. I had trouble meeting his eyes with Jason still sprawled across my body.
“Jason,” I said, tapping his bare shoulder. He said nothing, just rolled off me to lie on the floor, closer to Yvette than I’d have ever thought he’d be willing to get.
I suddenly realized that my skirt was still up around my waist. Jean-Claude helped me sit up while I wiggled the dress down.
Richard knelt with us. I expected a scathing remark. I’d certainly given him enough ammo for one. He surprised me by saying, “Raina, gone, but not forgotten.”
I said, “No joke.”
“I’m sorry, Anita. When you told me, I didn’t realize it was an almost complete melding. I understand why you’re afraid of it now. There are things you can do to keep it from happening again. I was too angry at you to believe it was this bad.” A look crossed his face, part pain, part confusion. “I am sorry for that.”
“If you can keep that from happening again, apology accepted.”
Padma was suddenly looming over us. “You and I will dance next, Ulfric. After the show your lupa gave us, I am more eager than ever to taste you.”
Richard glanced at me, then at Jason and Yvette, both still lying on the ground as if any movement was too much. “I don’t think I’m that good.”
“I think you underestimate yourself, wolf,” Padma said. He offered Richard a hand, but he stood on his own. The two men were almost the same height. They stared at each other, and I could already feel the power flaring between them, testing each other.
I lay against Jean-Claude’s chest and closed my eyes. “Get me out of here before they start. I can’t stand to be near this much power so soon.” He helped me to stand, and when my legs wouldn’t hold me, he scooped me up in his arms, holding me effortlessly. He just stood there holding me, as if expecting me to protest.
I put my arms around his neck and said, “Just do it.”
He smiled, and it was wondrous. “I have wanted to do this for a very long time.” Was it romantic to be carried in his arms at last? Yes. But when Jason managed to stagger from the floor, the front of his blue leather pants was stained, and that wasn’t romantic at all.
51
PADMA AND RICHARD faced each other just out of reach. Each was letting his power out like a lure at the end of a line, to see who took the bait first. Richard’s power was as it always was, an electric heat. But Padma’s power was similar. More than any other vamp I’d been around, his power was warm, alive, for lack of a better word. It did not have the electric shimmer of Richard’s, but it had heat.
Their power filled the room as if the very air were charged with their energy. It was everywhere and nowhere. Richard’s power bit along my skin, drew a gasp from my throat that Jean-Claude echoed. Padma’s power flared along the skin like being too close to an open flame. The two energies combined were almost painful.
Rafael came to stand beside us. Jean-Claude