Cerulean Sins

He was wearing jeans, jogging shoes, and a short leather jacket. Jason was as American as I was, we liked the casual look. His blond hair was still cut short like a young executive. It made him look older, more grown-up. Somehow without the hair to trail around his face, you noticed his eyes more, blue, the color of an i

"A little warm for a leather jacket," I said.

He unzipped the jacket in one smooth motion, and flashed his bare chest and stomach, still walking towards us, never missing a beat. Sometimes I forgot that Jason's day job was as a stripper at Guilty Pleasures, one of Jean-Claude's other clubs. Then there were moments like this when he managed to remind me.

"I didn't have time to dress when Jean-Claude sent me out to wait for you."

"Why the hurry?" I asked.

"Musette has offered to share her pomme de sang with Jean-Claude, if he'll share me with her."

Pomme de sang meant literally, apple of blood, it was slang with the vamps for someone that was much more than simply a blood donor. Jean-Claude had once described it as a beloved mistress, except instead of sex you got blood. A kept woman, or in Jason's case, a kept man.

"I thought it was a faux pas to ask to feed on someone else's pomme de sang, " I said.

"It can also be a great courtesy and honor," Asher said. "You may trust Musette to turn custom into torment if she is able."

"So she's not offering up her pomme de sang to honor Jean-Claude, she's doing it because she knows he won't want to share Jason?"

"Oui, " Asher said.

"Great, just great. What other little vampire customs are going to come up and bite us on the butt tonight?"

He smiled and raised my hand to his lips for a quick, chaste kiss. "Many, I would think, ma cherie, very many." He looked at Jason. "In truth, I am amazed that Musette allowed you to leave her presence without sharing blood."

Jason's grin faded. "Her pomme de sang is illegal in this country, so Jean-Claude had to decline."

"Illegal," I said, "in what way?"

He sighed, looking decidedly unhappy. "The girl can't be more than fifteen."

"And it's against the law to take blood from a minor," I said.

"Jean-Claude informed her of this, which is how I come to be standing out here in the cold."

"It's not cold," Damian said.

Jason shivered. "That is a matter of opinion." He huddled the still unzipped jacket around his bare body. "Jean-Claude doesn't want you to be surprised, Anita, but two of the vamps with her are children."

I could feel my face tightening with anger.

"It's not that bad, they aren't new. At a guess I'd say several hundred years old, minimum. Even in the United States they'd be grandfathered in under the current law."

I tried to ease some of the tension I was holding. I'd let go of everyone's hand, because I had this urge to have my hands free for weapons. There was nothing to fight, not yet, but the urge was still there.

Damian touched my arm, tentative, afraid the anger would spill over onto him, I think. My usual theory was anybody to be angry at was better than nobody to be angry at. I was trying to be better than that, more fair, but damn, it was hard.

When I didn't jerk away, or yell at him, Damian touched my hand, and his fingers light across my skin made me feel calmer. "Do you think Musette brought an underage pomme just to see what we'd do?"

"Musette likes the young," Asher said, voice still very quiet, not a whisper but close, as if he were afraid of being overheard. And maybe he was.

I looked up at Asher. Damian's fingers were still moving, lightly, over the back of my hand. "She's not a pedophile, please tell me she's not."

He shook his head. "No, not for sex, Anita, but blood, yes, she likes them young."

Yuck. "She ca

"I believe that Musette was carefully chosen by Belle Morte. Belle has other lieutenants that have less objectionable habits. I believe that Musette is an ordeal in the traditional sense of the word. She has been sent by Belle to test us, especially you, I think, you and perhaps Richard."

"Why do we get special treatment?" I asked.

"Because Belle does not know either of you of old. She likes to test her blades before blooding them, Anita."

"I am not her blade, I'm not her anything."

Asher had a patient look on his face. "She is le sourdre de sang, the fountainhead of our bloodline. Belle is like an empress, and all the master vampires that descend from her line are kings that owe her fealty. To owe fealty means to owe so many troops to the cause."

"What cause?"

He let out an exasperated breath. "Whatever cause the empress wishes."

I shook my head. "You're not really making sense to me here." Damian's hand was still playing lightly over mine. I think if he hadn't been touching me, I'd have been more upset.

"Belle considers all who descend from her line, hers, thus through Jean-Claude you and Richard belong to her."

I shook my head and started to speak. Asher held up his hand. "Please, let me finish. It does not matter, Anita, whether you agree that you and Richard belong to Belle. It matters only that she believes you belong to her. She sees you as more weapons in her arsenal. Can you understand that?"

"I understand what you're saying, I don't agree that I belong to anyone, but I can see where Belle Morte might think so."

He nodded, looked a little relieved, as if he hadn't been sure what he'd do if I'd continued to argue. "Bon, bon, then you must agree that Belle will want to test the metal of her two newest weapons."

"Test how?" I asked.

"For one thing, by bringing an underage pomme de sang to America and flaunting it in front of the Executioner herself. If Musette has offered to share pomme de sangs, then she may also offer to share human servants. It is considered a great honor to do so."

"Share?" I asked, instantly suspicious. Damian's fingers had sped up, but I didn't tell him to stop, because anger was tightening my shoulders, my arms.

"Share blood, probably, because most vampires take blood from their human servants. Do not worry about sex, ma cherie, Musette is not a lover of women."

I half shrugged. "I guess that's a relief." I frowned. "If she considers me and Richard part of her… whatever, then what about his pack and my pard? Does Belle consider our people her people?"

Asher licked his lips, and I knew the answer before he said it. "It would be like her to assume that."

"So Musette and company will be testing not just me, or Richard, but the rest of our people." I made it a statement.

"It is logical to assume so," he said.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. "I hate vampire politics."

"She's not yelling yet," Jason said, "I've never seen her this calm after this much bad news."

I opened my eyes and frowned at him.

"I believe it is Damian's influence," Asher said.

Jason's eyes flicked down to where Damian was playing gently with my hand. "You mean just touching her like that is helping her hold her temper?"

Asher nodded.

I had an urge to make Damian stop touching me, but I didn't, because I was furious. How dare anyone come into our territory and test us? How arrogant! How typically vampire. And I was tired already, tired of the games to come. If Jean-Claude would just let me shoot everyone in Musette's party tonight, it would save a lot of trouble. I just knew it would.

I did make Damian stop playing with my hand by taking his hand in mine and holding it firmly. The edge of my anger softened. I was still angry, but it was distant, manageable. Damn, Asher was right. I hated that. Hated that some new metaphysical bullshit had reached up to force me into closer personal contact with yet another vampire. Why couldn't metaphysics work just once without all the touchie-feelie crap?

Jason was looking at us, an odd expression on his face. "I think we should attach Damian to Anita for the night."

"You think Musette is going to piss me off that badly?" I asked.

"She's not hurt anyone, yet, Anita, not raised a finger to anyone, yet everyone's terrified. I'm fucking terrified, and I can't figure out why. She's this cute little blond thing, and she's gorgeous like a life size Barbie doll, with smaller breasts, but hey a man doesn't need more than a mouthful, right?"

"You're over-sharing," I said.

He didn't smile at me. His face was way too serious. "Normally, I wouldn't mind a gorgeous vampire sinking fang into me, but Anita, I do not want this chick to touch me." He looked scared all of a sudden, scared and younger even than his twenty-two years. "I do not want her touching me." He stared up at me with haunted eyes. "Jean-Claude's promised me that Musette isn't one of those vampires who rots all over you. But it doesn't matter, I'm still so scared of her that it makes my stomach hurt."

I reached out my free hand, and Jason came to me. I hugged him and could feel a fine tremble ru

He hugged me so tight it was hard to breath, and he spoke with his face against my neck. "Don't promise things you can't deliver, Anita."

I opened my mouth to promise just that, when Asher interrupted. "No, Anita, do not promise safe passage to any of us, not yet, not until you have met Musette."

I drew back from Jason and looked up at Asher. "If I just shoot her dead when I walk in the room what would Belle do?"

He paled, and that's a neat trick for a vampire, even one that's fed. "You ca

"You know that if I killed her tonight we'd all be safer."

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it. "Anita, ma cherie, please…"

Jason stepped back from me and made a motion with his hands. Damian was at my back, hands on my shoulders. The moment he touched me, I felt better, not exactly calmer, not even clearer-headed. Because I was right, we should kill Musette tonight. In the short run it would save so much trouble. But in the long run Belle Morte, maybe even the whole council, would come in force and kill us. I knew that. With Damian's hands kneading gently on the tight muscles of my shoulders I could even agree with it.