Danse Macabre

"I saw into your mind when I embraced you," she said. "I saw what you think of my sons. You are disinclined toward them. Without magic to per­suade you, I do not think they have any chance at your bed, your body, or your power."

My pulse was suddenly in my throat. I fought to keep a blank face, but wasn't sure I succeeded. How much had she read while she was playing in­side my head? Did she know about the pregnancy scare?

Thea was watching me very narrowly. She saw die fear on me, but didn't understand why. Which meant either she'd only read things about her sons in my head, or she didn't understand why being pregnant would scare me. If the former, yea; if the latter, she was too odd for me to talk to.

I turned to Auggie and his angry girlfriend. She was the only woman on his side of the room. Standing in the spike heels she was over six feet tall. But whereas with Claudia it was all muscle, and menace, this woman was thin. There was no play of muscle to her arms and legs. She was making angry gestures with large hands, darkly painted nails, a diamond flashing on her right hand. Her dress was red with silver sequins. It fit her like a tiny, glittery second skin. The dress was so short that when she flounced around the couch, taking too long a step, she flashed enough flesh that I knew she wasn't wearing anything under the dress. Oh, my.

Auggie coaxed her back to me. Her face was perfect in a high-

cheekboned, almost stark way. She wore enough makeup, artfully applied, that stark should not have been a word you used for her face. Her hair was long, and teased too high on the top, as if she'd never quite left the eighties, but it was brunette. It might even have been her natural color. The spaghetti straps of her dress and the thin material should not have been able to sup­port her breasts. Breasts that large do not stay perky without more help than the dress could give. Her breasts sat under the dress in a way that real breasts just don't. She flounced toward me, holding Auggie's hand. The walk was good, bouncy, but her breasts didn't bounce with her. They were big, and even shapely, but they rode under her dress like they were way more solid than breasts are meant to be.

It took Micah tugging on my hand to let me know I'd missed something, staring at her chest. I shook my head and gave Auggie eye contact. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"This is Bu

Bu

Auggie gave her a little pull, and a nod.

She gave an angry sullen face to me. "At least I'm only whoring for one man, not a dozen."

Micah actually pulled me away from her. I let him do it. I was so as­tounded at the rudeness of it that I was speechless. I wasn't even angry yet; it was too unexpected. Too rude.

Auggie ordered her to kneel, and when she didn't do it fast enough, he forced her. "Apologize, now!" His power filled the room like cold water, shivering along my skin.

"Why am I a whore, when his wife is pimping out her own sons, and this one is fucking everything and everyone that will stand still?"

"Be

The only vampire he'd brought with him moved around the couch to stand beside him. "Yeah, boss."

"Take her out of here. Get on a plane, take her back to Chicago, help her pack. Make sure she takes only what belongs to her."

Bu

He moved away, so she couldn't touch him. She tried to crawl after him, but Be

She was human, and in five-inch heels, but she put up a fight. Be

having trouble getting her to the door without hurting her. She'd proven to the entire room that she was naked under the tiny dress.

I said, "Claudia."

She came to me, all serious, the bodyguard's bodyguard. "Pick someone, or two someones, to help Be

Claudia nodded, almost a bow, and said, "Fredo, Clay, help our guest out."

Fredo pushed himself from the wall, all boneless ease like some dark, well-armed cat. Clay just took Bu

Auggie gave me a very low bow. "I don't know what to say, Anita. I'm sorry that I brought her. I knew she was jealous, but not crazy jealous."

"Jealous?" I made it a question.

"She, like Samuel's Thea, is very competitive around other women."

I frowned at him. "So she and Thea were like trying to outbitch each other?"

He looked at me. "You really don't understand why she didn't like you from the moment you stepped into the room, do you?"

Micah drew me in against his body, hugging me one-armed. I looked back and forth from one to the other of them. "What?"

"No," Micah said, "she doesn't."

"Don't what?" I asked.

"You are a natural beauty," Auggie said. "Artifice gave Bu

I felt myself blushing and tried to stop it, but, as usual, lost. "You're bab­bling, Auggie," I said.

"Watching you and a siren, two if you count the boy. Watching two crea­tures formed of desire, and it was not the pale beauty most eyes watched, Anita. It was the dark."

I frowned at him. "I don't need this much ego-boo, Auggie, just make your point. If you have a point?"

Nathaniel came up. "I'll translate."

"What do you mean, translate?" I said, turning to him.

He took my hand, and shook his head. His face had that I-love-you-but-you-amuse-me look. "You outvamped the sirens, Anita."

"How?"

"I believe," Auggie said, "because your power is over the dead, and the undead. I was told your animal to call was only leopard."

I nodded. "It is, but through Jean-Claude's marks, I also have ties to the wolves."

"Yes, but my men are neither. They are lion, and yet they felt your call."

I glanced behind him at the two men he'd brought along as both body­guards and food, and I was told as pomme de sang candidates, though Aug­gie, like Samuel, had a new twist on the whole pomme thing. Auggie was hoping to convince one of our new female vamps from London to come home with him and play house. He wanted another of Belle's line in his bed. Maybe that had predisposed Bu

Auggie was offering to trade one of his werelions for a bedmate of Belle's line. I wondered how the men in question felt; did they want to stay in St. Louis? Did they want to leave Chicago? Had anyone asked them? I was bet­ting not.

They were both tall, and muscular, and all they needed was a blinking sign over their heads that said "bodyguard." They both wore tailored suits that hid the guns I was almost one hundred percent sure were under there some­where. One was brunette, the other pale; other than that they looked as if an unimaginative baker had used the same cookie cutter for both of them. Only the icing was different. The pale one had short spiky, blue hair, which had actually been dyed well, so that it wasn't a solid blue color, but pale blue, dark blue, all mixed together like real hair is, and dyed hair seldom is. Ex­cept that nobody has hair the color of Cookie Monster and a spring sky on the top of their head. His eyes were a pale blue made deeper, richer, by the hair color. He was a little more slender through the shoulders, and maybe an inch taller, than the other guard.