Smolder (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, #29)(86)

“He wouldn’t leave until he saw you in person and made sure you were okay,” Nicky said.

“Good, because if we’re going to plan how to take out a fire-breathing dragon I want him in on it.”

“Didn’t he burn a house down once with you and him still inside it?” Richard asked.

“Yeah, no one knows fire like Edward does.”

Richard looked at me like I’d lost my mind, but thanks to the vampire marks I felt the fear behind the arrogant, angry look. He was afraid of Edward; he saw him as careless and danger-seeking. He was afraid he’d get me killed someday.

“He saved me that night, Richard, I wouldn’t have had the guts to use a flamethrower inside a house with us in it, but it was the only way for us to kill the vampires and save ourselves.”

“I know you believe that, Anita.”

“And there we go, Richard, right back to the arguments we started having almost from the moment we started dating. You hate my job. You hate my best friend.”

“I don’t hate Edward, I just know when he’s involved it’s a case so dangerous you needed his help, or something so dangerous he needed yours,” Richard said.

I was all set to argue, then realized he was right. I thought about it for a few seconds, then said, “I see it as when either of us gets in over our head, we have each other to call for backup.”

“Ma petite, mon lupe, we do not have time for squabbling tonight.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” I said.

“I won’t let old habits ruin this second chance,” Richard said.

Jean-Claude held his hand out to us with a smile. “Then let us go downstairs.”

We took his hands and the moment we did I didn’t want to argue anymore. I was suddenly thinking sex and remembering the smell and feel of Richard’s body. It was so strong it made me trip on a step.

Shit.

“Ma petite, are you well?”

“Was that your thought in my head?”

“This one I am not to blame for, ma petite.”

“What thought?” Richard asked.

“Never mind,” I said, and I sounded grumpy because I was being defensive, “just get us down the damn stairs, Jean-Claude. We’re running out of night.”

No one argued, and we started moving like we had a purpose on the uneven stone steps. I had to concentrate to keep up with their longer strides, even wearing combat boots. I was glad I had to concentrate on the physical, I welcomed it, because it made it harder for my mind to wander. The best part of my old relationship with Richard had been the sex; it had been the only part that always worked between us. Of course that would be what I thought about and wanted more than anything else from him. It was logical in a way, but it didn’t make it any less embarrassing. I sure as hell didn’t want him to read my mind while I was thinking about him like that, so I concentrated on the steps by staring at my feet, tuning into my body in the now, letting the physical act carry me with no thought, a moving meditation. I held Jean-Claude’s hand, his longer stride forcing me to move faster and in a rhythm that wasn’t best for me, but that was okay. I’d found that moving meditations needed to be hard in order for me to keep an empty mind. I upped my speed until Jean-Claude had to protest, because he was still in the high-heel boots. I loved so much that he was the one in heels who asked to go slower.

Maybe it wasn’t being the girl that made me feel helpless, maybe it was just whoever had to wear high heels?





36

RICHARD WAS BREATHING hard by the time we got down the stairs and in front of the huge dungeonlike door that was part of the defenses at the Circus. “I thought I’d kept up with my cardio, but I’d forgotten the StairMaster of doom.” He had his hands on his hips, leaning a little backward against the stitch in his side. People always bend forward over the stitch, which just makes it worse; if you bend backward it hurts more for a few seconds, but it goes away quicker.

Nicky came down the steps to stand near me. I wasn’t sure if he was feeling my unease, or if he needed a little reassurance. Nah, it was probably me. Either way I reached my free hand out to Nicky.

The moment we touched I felt a little steadier, more myself. I leaned my head against Nicky’s chest, and it was like I was breathing in the warm solidity of him.

Jean-Claude squeezed my hand. I turned my head with my forehead still on Nicky’s chest. It put me looking at our clasped hands rather than his face.

“You are so weak,” Demolition Man said.

I raised my head with a sarcastic remark ready but realized he was looking past us at Richard. I felt Jean-Claude move like he was going to go to Richard’s side, but I pulled him back toward us.

Demo wasn’t the only one who saw a civilian Ulfric as a weak link; Richard had to handle this himself or it would just make it worse. If Richard needed our help, we’d help, but until then we had to let him lead.

The other werewolves tried to push Demo through the open door, but Richard stood up straight and said, “Let him stay.” The werewolves looked at each other and clearly thought it was a bad idea.

Hell, I thought it was a bad idea. Jean-Claude made another small movement toward him. I pulled him in against me, which put him touching Nicky, but neither man minded. They were both secure in their different flavors of masculinity.