Guilty Pleasures

She laughed, high and wild, chimes in a storm wind. “You are bold, mortal. I give you that. I begin to see what Jean-Claude sees in you.”

I let the comment go because I felt like I was missing part of the meaning. “May I have what I ask, please?”

“Call me master, and you will have it.”

I swallowed and it was loud in the sudden stillness. “Please…master.” See, I didn’t choke on the word after all.

“Very good, animator, very good indeed.” Without her needing to say anything, Valentine and Aubrey went up the steps and out the door. They didn’t even argue. That was frightening all on its own.

“I will leave Burchard at the top of the steps. He has human hearing. If you whisper, he won’t be able to hear you at all.”

“Burchard?” I asked.

“Yes, animator, Burchard, my human servant.” She stared at me as if that was significant. My expression didn’t seem to please her. She frowned. Then she turned abruptly in a swing of white skirts. Winter followed her like an obedient puppy on steroids.

Burchard, the once nameless man, took up a post in front of the closed door. He stared straight ahead, not at us. Privacy, or as close as we were getting to it.

I went to Phillip and he still wouldn’t look at me. His thick, brown hair acted like a kind of curtain between us. “Phillip, what happened?”

His voice was an abused whisper; screaming will do that to you. I had to stand on tiptoe and nearly press my body against his to hear him. “Guilty Pleasures; they took me from there.”

“Didn’t Robert try to stop them?” For some reason that seemed important. I had only met Robert once, but part of me was angry that he had not protected Phillip. He was in charge of things while Jean-Claude was away. Phillip was one of those things.

“Wasn’t strong enough.”

I lost my balance and was forced to catch myself, hands flat against his ruined chest. I jerked back, hands held out from me, bloody.

Phillip closed his eyes and leaned back into the wall. His throat worked hard at swallowing. There were two fresh bites on his neck. They were going to bleed him to death if someone didn’t get carried away first.

He lowered his head and tried to look at me, but his hair had spilled into both eyes. I wiped the blood on my jeans and went back to stand almost on tiptoe next to him. I brushed the hair back from his eyes, but it spilled forward again. It was begi

He almost smiled. His voice breaking as he whispered, “Few months back, I’d have paid money for this.”

I stared at him, then realized he was trying to make a joke. God. My throat felt tight.

Burchard said, “It is time to go.”

I stared into Phillip’s eyes, perfect brown, torchlight dancing in them like black mirrors. “I won’t leave you here, Phillip.”

His eyes flickered to the man on the stairs and back to me. Fear turned his face young, helpless. “See you later,” he said.

I stepped back from him. “You can count on it.”

“It is not wise to keep her waiting,” Burchard said.

He was probably right. Phillip and I stared at each other for a handful of moments. The pulse in his throat jumped under his skin like it was trying to escape. My throat ached; my chest was tight. The torchlight flickered in my vision for just a second. I turned away and walked to the steps. We tough-as-nails vampire slayers don’t cry. At least, never in public. At least, never when we can help it.

Burchard held the door open for me. I glanced back at Phillip and waved, like an idiot. He watches me go, his eyes too large for his face suddenly, like a child who watches its parent leave the room before all the monsters are gone.

I had to leave him like that—alone, helpless. God help me.

Chapter 38

Nikolaos sat in her carved wooden chair, tiny feet swinging off the ground. Charming.

Aubrey leaned against the wall, tongue ru

Winter stood beside me. The prison guard.

Burchard went to stand by Nikolaos, one hand on the back of her chair.

“What, animator, no jokes?” Nikolaos asked. Her voice was still the grown-up version. It was like she had two voices and could change them with a push of a button.

I shook my head. I didn’t feel very fu

“Have we broken your spirit? Taken the fight out of you?”

I stared at her. Anger flared through me like a wave of heat. “What do you want, Nikolaos?”

“Oh, that’s much better.” Her voice rose and fell, a little-girl giggle at the end of each word. I might never like children again.

“Jean-Claude should be growing weak inside his coffin. Starving, but instead he is strong and well fed. How can this be?”

I didn’t have the faintest idea, so I kept quiet. Maybe it was rhetorical?

It wasn’t. “Answer me, A-n-i-t-a.” She stretched my name out, biting off each syllable.

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, but you do.”

I didn’t, but she wasn’t going to believe me. “Why are you hurting Phillip?”

“He needed to be taught a lesson, after last night.”

“Because he stood up to you?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, “because he stood up to me.” She scooted out of the chair and pattered towards me. She did a little turn so the white dress billowed around her. She freaking skipped over to me, smiling. “And because I was angry with you. I torture your lover, and maybe I won’t torture you. And perhaps, this demonstration will give you fresh incentive to find the vampire murderer.” Her pretty little face was turned up to me, pale eyes gleaming with humor. She was good.

I swallowed hard, and I asked the question I had to ask, “Why were you angry with me?”

She cocked her head to one side. If she hadn’t been blood-spattered, it would have been cute. “Could it be that you do not know?” She turned back to Burchard. “What think you, my friend? Is she ignorant?”

He straightened his shoulders and said, “I believe that it is possible.”

“Oh, Jean-Claude has been a very naughty boy. Giving the second mark to an unsuspecting mortal.”

I stood very still. I was remembering blue, fiery eyes on the stairs, and Jean-Claude’s voice in my head. All right, I had suspected it, but I still didn’t understand what it meant. “What does the second mark mean?”

She licked her lips, soft like a kitten. “Shall we explain, Burchard? Shall we tell her what we know?”

“If she truly does not know, mistress, we must enlighten her,” he said.

“Yes,” she said and glided back to the chair. “Burchard, tell her how old you are.”

“I am six hundred and three years of age.”

I stared at his smooth face and shook my head. “But you’re human, not a vampire.”

“I have been given the fourth mark and will live as long as my mistress needs me.”

“No, Jean-Claude wouldn’t do that to me,” I said.

Nikolaos made a small shrugging motion with her hands. “I had pressed him very hard. I knew of the first mark to heal you. I suppose he was desperate to save himself.”

I remembered the echo of his voice in my head. “I’m sorry. I had no choice.” Damn him, there were always choices. “He’s been in my dreams every night. What does that mean?”

“He is communicating with you, animator. With the third mark will come more direct mind contact.”

I shook my head. “No.”

“No what, animator? No third mark, or no you don’t believe us?” she asked.

“I don’t want to be anyone’s servant.”

“Have you been eating more than usual?” she asked.

The question was so odd, I just stared for a minute, then I remembered. “Yes. Is that important?”

Nikolaos frowned. “He is siphoning energy from you, Anita. He is feeding through your body. He should be growing weak by now, but you will keep him strong.”