Obsidian Butterfly - Laurell K. Hamilton [111]
Edward wasn’t holding onto my arm anymore; maybe that was it, or maybe I’d just had enough for one night. “You’ve scared him shitless. It’s hard to get it up when you’re scared.”
She and Chualtalocal looked at me, and their black eyes held nearly identical expressions, not that I chanced looking into the eyes long, but it was still there, disdain. How dare I interfere?
Edward made as if to grab me again. I held up a hand to him. “Don’t touch me.”
He let his hand fall back, but his eyes were not happy with me. Fine, I wasn’t happy with anyone right now.
“And are you offering to help him overcome his fear?” Itzpapalotl asked. The look on her face said plainly that she didn’t expect me to offer.
“Sure,” I said.
I don’t know who looked the most surprised, but I think it was Edward, though Bernardo was a close second from the doorway. Olaf just watched me like a fox watching a rabbit through the fence, who’s just spotted a hole big enough to crawl through. I ignored him. It was probably best to always ignore Olaf, if possible. Ignore him or kill him. That was my vote.
I held my hand out to the werejaguar. He hesitated, glancing from the vamp in front of him, to me, to the goddess behind him. I wiggled my fingers at him. “Come on, Seth. We don’t have all night.”
“Go with her, do as she says, as long as you offer fitting sacrifice.”
He took my hand, tentatively, and though he was a six foot plus, naked man, there was something very little boyish on his face. Maybe it was the near panic in his baby blues. He was scared, scared that he was going to end up on the floor, meat for the four weird sisters. I didn’t blame him for worrying. I think if I hadn’t stepped in, that was exactly what was about to happen. But I’d had all the torture I could handle for one night. It wasn’t moral outrage. It was just plain outrage. I wanted to ask my questions and get the hell out of here. Vampires can live a very long time, theoretically forever, which means their idea of getting down to business can be damn leisurely. The vamps might have had eternity. I didn’t.
I led Seth the werejaguar off to the other side of the room. The easiest thing would have been to work him by hand, but I was like so not doing that. The option I was voting for wasn’t that simple, but it was something I was willing to do. I was going to call that part of me that was Richard’s mark. Not the connection to him—that was safely walled away. I’d packed it so tight, I wasn’t even sure I could open to the mark even on purpose. But I held a part of it inside me. The same part that had recognized César, the same part that let me deal with the wereleopards back home. That electric rush of energy was a turn-on to wereanimals. I’d discovered it accidentally. Now I was going to try and do it on purpose.
But it wasn’t like a switch. Maybe someday it would be, but right now it took some preparation to get it going. It was maddening that something that came out at odd moments when I didn’t want it, would refuse to come out when I did, but psychic shit is like that, unpredictable. It’s one of the reasons it’s so hard to study in laboratory conditions. X does not always equal Y.
I put my hands on my hips and looked at him, from head to foot, and didn’t know where to start. My life would be both easier and harder if I was into casual sex, but for better or worse, it wasn’t my cup of tea.
“Can you undo your hair?”
“Why?” He sounded suspicious, and I didn’t blame him.
“Look, I could have let her turn you over to her pet torturers, but I didn’t. So work with me here.”
His hands went to the knot at the back of his head. He pulled long pins out of his hair, and finally a comb that was made of bone. The hair uncurled slowly as if it were stretching from some long sleep, sliding down his back in a heavy mass. I walked behind him and he started to turn and watch me. I touched his shoulder, made him face