Incubus Dreams

42

I was cold by the time we got to the Jeep. Graham had to drive, and I wouldn’t ride without a seat belt, so we worked out a compromise. I rode in the backseat with the blanket, and Requiem did his best to cuddle with me while I was strapped into the seat. Which was a lot harder than it sounded.

He started with his arm around my shoulders, his body pressed as close to my side as he could get. The blanket spread over us. He was warm, warm with the blood he’d taken from me, but his wasn’t the heat of the werewolf, and sitting side-by-side wasn’t as warm as sitting in someone’s lap. By the time we’d pulled out of the cemetery I was shivering. A mile or so down Gravois and my body started to do those little involuntary spasms.

Requiem gripped my hand under the blanket. “Your hand is cool to the touch.”

“Yeah,” I said.

He wrapped his arms tighter around me, and the blanket slid off.

He grabbed it, tried to spread it back over us both. “Allow me to unbelt you. Allow me to hold you as Graham did.”

“If”-and I had to fight past chattering teeth-“we get in an accident, I could die.“

“It is true you are no vampire and couldn’t survive a car crash, but it is also true that a vampire that goes too long without a feeding, ca

My teeth began to chatter as if I was sitting on snow instead of in a car with the heater on high and a warm man wrapped around me. I was so cold that my muscles were begi

“Allow me at least to cover more of your body with my own. I know you felt that the position lacked a certain dignity, but allow me this liberty, I beg of you.”

I would have said, no, but my teeth were shaking so hard I was afraid I was going to chip one of them. He took the silence for a yes, and slid to the floorboard. He burrowed under the blanket and laid his head against my stomach, his arms wrapped around me.

I fought to tell him, move, but the involuntary muscle movement eased, and my teeth stopped sounding like castanets. He’d been right, with more of his body against mine, it was warmer. Not a lot, but maybe just enough. I was still cold, so cold, as if I were ass-deep in the snow and more was falling all around me. I’d thought freezing to death was an easier way to die. You just fell asleep. This wasn’t easy, and I didn’t feel the least bit sleepy. A little scared, but not sleepy.

I wanted to be warm. I wanted heat. I needed something warmer.

Requiem’s voice came from under the blanket, his upper body completely hidden under the gray folds. “The shivering has slowed.”

“I noticed,” I said, and it was nice to just be able to talk without risking a tongue injury.

He snuggled his face against me, an oddly catlike gesture. I’d had enough of the wereleopards rubbing over me to know what I was talking about. “I would do anything that my lady required.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, and I was feeling better enough to sound suspicious.

He laughed and pressed his body against my legs hard enough that my knees moved just a little apart. His body was covering my legs, but that one little movement was like the begi

“I’m feeling better than I was. I don’t think we need any heroic measures.”

“The tone of your voice, the stiffening of your body,” he said from under the blanket, “such disapproval, as if you think I will try to ravish you.”

“Let’s just say that I’m not the trusting sort.” Though it felt a little silly talking to a lump under a blanket, when the lump was wrapped around my body. It did lack a certain dignity.

He laid his head against the side of my body, because he was too tall to lay his head in my lap with so much of him covering my legs.

His hands wrapped around the back of my body, sliding between me and the seat. It was way too intimate for my tastes, and not long ago, when theardeur was hungry this much up-close-and-personal would have raised it, but there was nothing. Nothing but the warmth and movement of him, and the awkwardness of having a near stranger that close to me. But I could think. I felt like crap, but him this close didn’t bring it on. I’d fed on him earlier tonight, and even that thought didn’t raise anything through the chill. If I’d felt better, I would have been happy. Theardeur wasn’t my master anymore. It couldn’t make me do impossibly embarrassing things anymore. Yeah, maybe I had to feed it, but it could be on my own terms. Or close to my own terms.

I sat there with a gorgeous male curled around my body, and smiled. Even cold and aching with emptiness, I was still happy. Still willing to trade that overwhelming heat for this cold waiting. Because it was a waiting that I could feel now. Theardeur wasn’t gone. It was like a fire that had burned down to cold ashes, but there was still life in the heart of that dying wood. It just needed a good poke and stir, and there would be flames, oh, yeah.

Just thinking that hard made it curl to life, a tiny flare. I squashed it. Pressed it down. Not yet, not yet.

Requiem raised his head against my body, so that the top of his head brushed my breasts, but through the leather jacket it wasn’t much of a touch. The jacket was bulky enough that it could have been accidental on his part, though I doubted it. If Requiem was anything like Jean-Claude and Asher, then he was very aware of where his body was, and what it was doing. But I let it go. I wasn’t that cheap a date for theardeur anymore. Yea!

I felt Damian. I would like to say, I heard him, or saw him, but that wouldn’t be true. I felt him. He was sitting against a wall, and he was cold, so cold. Colder than I’d ever been. I called to him, “Damian, Damian what’s wrong?”

I didn’t hear him answer, but I felt his body, felt that aching cold at the center of it. Why, what was happening to him? What was wrong? “Damian, what’s wrong?”

“Did you say Damian?” Requiem asked.

“Yes, he’s hurt. He’s so cold, so cold, that he’s collapsed against a wall. There are people around him, but I can’t see who. He’s so cold, so cold.”

Requiem knelt upward, pushing his head out of the blanket and meeting my eyes. “You are his master now, Anita, you make him live.

Your energy makes him live.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yes, you can refuse theardeur ’s call, but you are cold to the touch, and it is your warmth that gives warmth to Damian, in a way that goes far beyond sharing blood.”

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the seat. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Will you let him die for embarrassment’s sake?”

I opened my eyes. “That question would have a lot more merit if you weren’t the one kneeling by my knees.”

He put his head to one side, and a curious look came over his face. He looked as if he’d say something, then shook his head as if he’d decided better of it, and I was almost certain that what came out of his mouth wasn’t what he’d thought of first. “Are you able to feed theardeur without intercourse, or donating blood?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Then allow me to offer myself as a tiding over snack until you reach the club and yourpomme de sang. ”

“Definesnack,” I said.

Damian screamed through my head, and I got a confused glimpse through his eyes of a blond woman bending over him. It was Elinore, one of the new vampires. She was speaking, but he couldn’t hear her anymore, only watch her lipsticked mouth move, noiseless.

I grabbed the front of Requiem’s shirt. “Out of time. Damian needs… needs to be warm.”

“Then let me share my warmth with you,” Requiem whispered it as his face bent toward mine. As happened so often, tonight I didn’t have to explain, or give detailed instructions. He just grasped what was needed, and acted.

His lips touched mine, and the kiss was gentle, and no liberties were taken, his tongue stayed nicely in his own mouth. Of course, that did nothing to raise theardeur.

He drew back and searched my face with his gaze. “You are still cold in every way.”

I nodded, and down that long metaphysical line, Damian called out for help. He was dying, not like a human dies, but like you watch a flame fade from lack of oxygen. It was as if some invisible spark were being blown out inside him. I was his spark now, and I didn’t know how to fix this.

I looked up at the man in front of me. He was handsome enough, but without theardeur ’s heat, he was still a stranger, and I didn’t lust after strangers. I had to be seduced not by the color of someone’s eyes, or the flawlessness of their face, but by a smile that had become dear to me, a conversation so familiar that it had become like music to me. Familiarity never bred contempt with me, it made me feel safe, and until I felt safe, I did not lust after people, at least not in the front of my head, and it was the front of my head that I needed. I’d finally found the lock for my subconscious, which meant I had to bring theardeur out on purpose, not just get out of its way, or stop fighting it, but truly had to coax it to life. Again, I hadn’t thought what it would mean to control the power to this degree. I seemed to spend my life not understanding the mess I was making until it was too late.

I grabbed Requiem’s arms, dug my fingers into his flesh. “Damian is dying, and I don’t know how to save him.”

“Simply raise theardeur and feed.”

“I don’t know how to do it, without theardeur pushing on me.

Shit.”

“Do you mean you do not know how to raise lust for me?”

“Nothing personal, but I don’t know you.”

“There is no shame in not being a creature of casual lusts,” he said.

“Damian is dying,” I whispered it, because I could feel it. I could feel him begi

“I can raise lust in you, Anita, it is not theardeur, but it is one of my gifts.”

If we’d had time I would have asked him what the difference was, but we were out of time. “Do it, help me feed. Don’t let me kill Damian, not like this.”

“Drop your shields, or I am helpless to bespell you.” He cupped the side of my face in his warm hand.