Circus of the Damned - Laurell K. Hamilton [113]
“I wanted to make sure he only did enough to save your life.”
“What else could he have done? He drank my blood, dammit.”
Richard concentrated on the road suddenly, not looking at me. “He could have raped you.”
“I was bleeding from my eyes and nose, you said. Doesn’t sound very romantic to me.”
“All the blood, it seemed to excite him.”
I stared at him. “You’re serious?”
He nodded.
I sat there feeling cold down to my toes. “What made you think he was going to rape me?”
“You woke up on a black bedspread. The first one was white. He laid you on it and started to strip down. He took your robe off. There was blood everywhere. He smeared his face in it, tasted it. Another vampire handed him a small gold knife.”
“There were more vamps there?”
“It was like a ritual. The audience seemed to be important. He slit your wrist and drank at it, but his hands . . . he was touching your breasts. I told him that I had brought you so you could live, not so he could rape you.”
“That must have gone over real big.”
Richard was very quiet all of a sudden.
“What?”
He shook his head.
“Tell me, Richard. I mean it.”
“Jean-Claude looked up with blood all over his face and said, “ ‘I have not waited this long to take what I want her to give freely. It is a temptation.’ Then he looked down at you, and there was something in his face, Anita. It was scary as hell. He really believes you’ll come around. That you’ll . . . love him.”
“Vampires don’t love.”
“Are you sure?”
I glanced at him, then away. I stared at the window at the daylight that was just now beginning to fade. “Vampires don’t love. They can’t.”
“How do you know that?”
“Jean-Claude does not love me.”
“Maybe he does, as much as he can.”
I shook my head. “He bathed in my blood. He slit my wrist. That isn’t my idea of love.”
“Maybe it’s his.”
“Then it’s too damn weird for me.”
“Fine, but admit that he may love you, as much as he’s able.”
“No.”
“It scares you to think that he loves you, doesn’t it?”
I stared out the window as hard as I could. I didn’t want to be talking about this. I wanted to undo this whole damn day.
“Or is it something else that you’re afraid of?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.” He sounded so sure of himself. He didn’t know me well enough to be that certain.
“Say it out loud, Anita. Say it just once and it won’t seem so scary.”
“I don’t have anything to say.”
“You’re telling me that no part of you wants him. Not a piece of you might love him back.”
“I don’t love him; that much I’m sure of.”
“But?”
“You are persistent,” I said.
“Yes,” he said.
“Alright, I’m attracted to him. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“How attracted?”
“That’s none of your damn business.”
“Jean-Claude warned me to stay away from you. I just want to know if I’m really interfering. If you’re attracted to him, maybe I should stay out of it.”
“He’s a monster, Richard. You’ve seen him. I can’t love a monster.”
“If he was human?”
“He’s an egotistical, controlling bastard.”
“But if he was human?”
I sighed. “If he was human, we might work something out, but even alive, Jean-Claude can be such an SOB. I don’t think it would work.”
“But you’re not even going to try because he’s a monster.”
“He’s dead, Richard, a walking corpse. It doesn’t matter how pretty he is, or how compelling, he’s still dead. I don’t date corpses. A girl’s got to have some standards.”
“So no corpses,” he said.
“No corpses.”
“What about lycanthropes?”
“Why? You thinking of fixing me up with your friend?”
“Just curious about where you draw the line.”
“Lycanthropy is a disease. The person’s already survived a vicious attack. It’d be like blaming the rape victim.”
“You ever date a shapeshifter?”
“It’s never come up.”
“What else wouldn’t you date?”
“Things that were never human to begin with, I guess. I really haven’t thought about it. Why the interest?”
He shook his head. “Just curious.”
“Why aren’t I still pissed at you?”
“Maybe because you’re glad to be alive, no matter what the cost.”
He pulled into the parking lot of my apartment