Smolder (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, #29)(8)

I settled my hand more securely in his; Jean-Claude was gone from the part of me where I could feel it, because touching made all our powers stronger. If Asher realized that it hadn’t been just my idea to hold his hand, then it would have made things worse. “You know that Peter and I aren’t an item.”

“Only a lover will defend someone’s honor so swiftly and so decisively.”

“Any suggestions, Ted?” Peter asked.

“You made the mess, you clean it up, that’s the rule; besides, this isn’t the part of Anita’s life that I help out with, and I’m good with the division of labor.”

Peter took a few steps toward us and my hand in Asher’s kept him from moving away. Peter took the hint, though, and stopped where he was, giving the vampire the space he seemed to need.

“Somewhere in all that talking, did you imply that you’re jealous of me?” Peter asked, so not what I thought he would lead with.

Asher laughed, and it was so bitter it felt like broken glass in my ears just to hear it.

“No vampire mind tricks,” Edward said, “or I will join in, and you don’t want that.”

“No,” Asher said, “I do not. My apologies, for losing control for a moment.”

“You didn’t go off your meds, did you?” I asked, because this was the moody Asher of old, not the one who had taken his therapy so seriously that they’d found meds that worked on a vampire, which hadn’t been easy. The doctor was writing a paper on it because it was a first. Finding meds that evened out Asher’s brain chemistry had made an amazing difference. He was healthier than he’d ever been, and we were all happier for it, except for Kane, apparently.

“No, I did not go off my meds, but I can understand why you asked.” He squeezed my hand gently.

“If the meds are still working, then what’s wrong?” I asked.

“The medicine clears my head and helps my heart be less tempestuous, but now the true work of therapy begins. I am finding that working on internal issues is far more challenging than I had imagined.”

I squeezed his hand back and said, “I’m proud of you for working your issues, instead of letting them work you.”

“It’s so hard to do the work in therapy; I’m sorry that I made it worse,” Peter said.

“You are young, you don’t know any better.”

“Let me try to do better; first can I say something without you taking it as flirting, because I don’t like men, so I don’t mean it that way, but I want to try and explain.”

Asher laughed again and it was bitter, but it didn’t hurt to hear it. He was trying, too. “You are safe from my advances. I would not want to be with anyone who reacts to me as you did.”

“It’s not the scars, it’s the fact that you have one of the most beautiful faces I’ve ever seen. I think that every time I see you, but this is the first time you’ve ever let me see your whole face.”

“I’m sorry you found it revolting.”

“No, that’s not it,” Peter said, reaching out as if he were trying to pull the words from the air. “I knew you were scarred by holy water and I knew that it burns like acid on vampire skin, but theory is different from seeing it.”

“So much worse than you imagined,” Asher said, and tried to pull his hand away from me; when I didn’t let him go he let me keep holding him, but it was like his hand was only there for politeness’

sake. I had to breathe through the anger that started to boil up inside me. I really didn’t have the emotional spoons left for Asher today, but for Jean-Claude’s sake I kept trying.

“Damn it,” Peter said, “I’m not saying this right, but the scars aren’t that bad, it just surprised me, and it was shitty of me to react like that. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Asher said, but his voice said plainly that he didn’t mean it.

“Asher, what does he have to do to make this better?” I asked, shaking his hand, trying to get him to look at me.

“How did you word it, that I was unblemished youth?” Peter pulled the hem of his T-shirt up with one hand, exposing the scars on his upper stomach that traced over one side of his chest. I knew they went up onto one shoulder, but the shirt would have to come off to see them. The scars looked like what they were, claw marks. It had been a weretiger that meant to kill me; both Peter and I almost died, but I’d had enough magic to heal completely, and he hadn’t.

Asher turned with his hair swinging to hide the scarred side of his face, but he gave the full perfection of the other side of his profile so he could look at the scars that traced Peter’s body. “I am a fool, please forgive me for forgetting that I am not the only one who has suffered.”

Peter let his shirt fall back into place. “I don’t let people see me without a shirt much, even the girls who say they don’t mind, how can they not? The girls who like the scars seem to like them more than the rest of me, and that’s creepy for a different reason.”

Peter had never mentioned any of this to me, but he was sharing with Asher and the rest of us, because he was trying to make up for making Asher self-conscious. It was brave and smart. I was so proud of him I’d have hugged him if I hadn’t thought that would make things worse again.