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“See, see, he is like you now. Two of you, I do not know if I can—”

“Just tell us,” I said.

He gave me a small frown. “You seem to have figured out that we are mixing and mingling our abilities in more than just a metaphysical way. I do not know all we will gain, or lose, depending on how one looks at it, only that it is happening.”

“I think that Nathaniel and I traded a little dominance and submission.” I saw the look on Richard’s face, and added, “I mean that ever since we became a triumverate, Nathaniel seems a little more dominant, and I seem to enjoy being a little more submissive. Admittedly, Nathaniel was trying to be more dominant before, but he really seems to be taking to it.” Saying it made me want to squirm with discomfort, but I fought it off. I’d be damned if I’d apologize even by a gesture. I’m nothing if not defiant, especially if I’m uncomfortable.

“Then, apparently, we can expect a mingling of our basic personalities, as well,” Jean-Claude said, and he tried for casual and failed.

“This could get really strange,” I said, and it was my turn to draw my knees up to my chest, though for Richard, I think it had been comfortable, for me it was comforting myself.

“Is that all the bad news?” Richard asked, and looked directly at him.

“I do not see it as bad news, mon ami, but the two of you might.”

“Spill it,” I said, knees hugged to my chest.

“You have turned my pomme de sang into his animal form, one of them anyway. I, like you until recently, prefer my food without fur.”

I did my best not to look at Richard. “Who did you have in mind?”

“Requiem told me of the amount of blood you lost last night, ma petite. I think it is wiser if you do not donate more quite so soon.”

I heard Richard’s sigh from where I was sitting, and he wasn’t sitting that close to me. “I would say it’s always me, but it’s usually not. I know that Anita isn’t your regular feed, but I know she lets you feed.” He put his face against his knees and sighed again. “Fine, but only if Anita is here, too. No just you and me.”

“Define Anita being with us?”

“That’s not what I said,” Richard said.

“Is that not what you meant?” Jean-Claude asked.

Richard seemed to think about it for a second, then gave a small nod. “I guess it is, but hearing you say it, it seems—”

“I’ll second Jean-Claude’s question, define me being with you guys.”

Richard blushed. He didn’t blush often, and this was two in one conversation. “I don’t mean it the way you make it sound.”

“Then tell us how you do mean it, mon ami.”

“I don’t want. I mean . . .” he made that sound again, wordless, frustrated. “Why is it that every time I do anything that includes both of you, I always end up feeling like I’m wrong?”

I made one of those mental leaps, because I was remembering Richard’s problem with everyone thinking he was, or had been, doing Jean-Claude. I decided to rescue him. He was, afterall, going to open a vein for Jean-Claude. That deserved some consideration, considering that his rules about feeding vamps used to be the same as mine. Richard was still trying to explain, and failing.

“Look, I understand what Richard is trying to say.”

They both looked at me. Richard doubtful, and Jean-Claude amused, as if he, too, understood Richard’s discomfort, but couldn’t afford to let the other man see that he saw it. Or maybe something else amused him, you never can tell with Jean-Claude.

“You don’t want it to be just the two of you when Jean-Claude feeds,” I said.

Richard looked relieved, and nodded.

I did not say out loud, no you’re not homophobic, because if Richard wasn’t as comfortable with having another man touch him, then he was entitled. I’d never fed a female vamp voluntarily, so who was I to bitch?

Jean-Claude’s smile deepened just a touch. “And why is it such a problem for it to be just the two of us?”

I gave Jean-Claude a dirty look, and Richard was back to not knowing how to explain. “Jean-Claude, you know the old American saying, about not looking a gift horse in the mouth?”

“Oui.”

“You’re checking this one’s teeth.”

He laughed, that touchable