Fatal Circle

He stopped. Voice quavering and low, on the edge of a growl, he said, “Give me one good reason.”

“I’m the master—”

“Not of me!”

With an irritated shove I released his arm.

He didn’t move; my attempt to push him away must’ve struck a nerve. He didn’t leave.

“Let me finish?” He didn’t object; perhaps he’d realized I was explaining, not commanding. “Being a master comes with certain responsibilities.”

Joh

“You know how the protrepticus feeds on my aural energy?” An almost imperceptible nod indicated I had at least some of his attention. “It’s with me constantly, but I use it so seldom I don’t really notice the drain.” I drank the last of the juice and set the glass on the table. “This isn’t so different. Think about it. I’ve been drawing on his energy. I just didn’t realize it. Many times. When I ran in the field, when I sparred with you, when I confronted the fairies. Maybe more. I hexed him over three weeks ago, Joh

Joh

“I will keep it to a minimum. Believe me.”

“I believe you. But I’m wondering why you don’t sound even a little distressed or pissed off about it.”

He was right. I didn’t. I was indifferent because, on some level, I had to have known this was inevitable. Right? “Wouldn’t do me any good to be pissed off. Anger won’t change this. It is what it is.”

After deliberating with himself, he came and sat beside me on the bed. He was still too rigid, but as he opened and closed his hands they were normal, not furred and clawed. “Red, do you want this?”

It had to be difficult for him to accept, as Nana would say, “another tom slinking around the cathouse.” I had to give him kudos for not totally going Neanderthal on me.

I remembered Sammi and Cammi Harding, the bank heiresses who’d been escorting him backstage after Lycanthropia’s Rock Hall showcase. One of them had kissed him. Seeing it had hurt me. Deeply. If our roles were reversed right now, I wasn’t sure my reaction wouldn’t be Neanderthalish. How very unfair for someone so concerned with justice and balance to be.

I wondered if, when he officially ascended as Domn Lup, it would change him. Anyone would be permanently affected by such authority, the weight of unpleasant decisions and alliances. I guess we were both learning to accept these things that neither of us could change.

I answered him with the truth. “I need you both.”

Joh

“I’m even imagining black leather upholstery.”

His lopsided grin was adorable. “Of course. And the vamp gets to be considered the detestable but law-required insurance policy with the irritating premium.”

I laughed and moved into his lap, stretching my arms around him. Don’t ever change. “You are definitely my only ride.”

“Oooooo. You’re revvin’ my engine.”

“Your whole analogy deserves a few i

His lips brushed mine like flower petals at first, then as he strayed to my cheek, it seemed he became aware that he was on the side Menessos had fed from and shifted roughly to the other side. I hoped it was because he was concerned for my covered wound, not an objection to putting his lips where Menessos’s had been.

Guilt rippled over me. The master/servant bond had taken over and I had failed to rule it. In that state, I might’ve yielded and made love to Menessos . . . and yet Menessos hadn’t taken advantage of me. As if drinking without permission were somehow not taking advantage.

Joh

He kissed my forehead. “You gave blood tonight, Red. I can’t take anything more from you.” Yet he spent the next thirty seconds taking his clothes off. I moved over to lie on the near side of the bed and enjoyed the show.

“Gee, mister, you sure are good at sending mixed signals.”

“Can’t sleep unless I’m naked. Move over.” I moved. After throwing down the covers as far as he could, he lay down and pulled just the sheet over him.

I tugged the sheet down in playful increments.

“Get naked and get in here beside me already.”

He might have changed his mind about intimacy, but as I stood to undress, my vision went starry and my knees went weak. I caught myself, but he’d seen. He patted the mattress next to him. So I had to remove my jeans the unsexy way: on my back. I threw the denim to the floor as if it were the source of my trouble and snuggled up to my rock’n’roll biker-boyfriend.

With my head resting on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around me, contentedness enveloped me. Cuddling, even without the afterglow, was peaceful. How unexpected, to find serenity here, deep in the earth in a vampire’s haven with growing numbers of undead beyond my door.

I’d given blood and reassurances tonight, because that’s what each of them needed. As I lay there, I wondered, did I have what I needed? I couldn’t readily name anything I lacked.

Except answers. To questions like, how could I lie here feeling contentment when there was a battle brewing?

I can lie here because I believe there is a way to win. Somehow.

Dragging my nails lightly across Joh

CHAPTER TEN

Pounding on the door awakened me. It sounded like someone kicking.

Wrapping up in the sheet—Joh

As I reached the door, during one of the intervals, I heard an exasperated voice shout, “Just open the fucking door already.” At least I thought that’s what the muffled voice said.

“Who’s there?” I asked through the intercom.

The female voice answered, “Risqué.” She didn’t use the intercom but shouted through the door. I barely heard her.

Not sure I wanted to open the door for someone who wouldn’t use the techy device let alone someone named for being daringly close to impropriety, I asked, “And why are you kicking the door?”

“Because I’m holding your heavy-ass breakfast tray.”

Oh. Good reason. I worked at the strange locks and opened the door.

“Finally.” Risqué barged in, blazing past me like a five-foot inferno. She marched toward the kitchen. Mounds of blond ringlets hung down her back and bounced as she walked, hitting the top of frilly orange boy shorts that left her shapely, tan legs bare—legs that seemed long despite her lack of height. “Thank Hell your groceries are going to arrive today,” she said belligerently. “Boss said there’s no food in your kitchen, and to be sure you and the wolf-man have enough to eat.” She shoved the tray onto the counter. “So there you fucking go.” She turned, showing me a disparaging frown and big eyes—the color of which matched her fire-engine-red lipstick. It stu