"Suicide by simply not defending himself hard enough. Hmm." He was quiet again, then finally said, "I had not thought of such a thing. If I had, ma petite, I would have told you of my concerns. I do not wish Richard harm."
"Yeah, right."
"He is our third, ma petite. It is in my own interest to make him healthy and happy. I need him."
"Like you need me," I said.
He laughed low and deep, and even over the phone I could feel it tickling along my body. "Oui, ma petite. Richard must not die. But to cure his despair he must embrace his beast. I cannot help him do that. I have tried and he will not hear me. He takes what limited help he needs to keep himself from invading your dreams, or you his, but beyond that he wants nothing from us. Nothing he will admit."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.
"It is your tender mercies that he needs, ma petite, not mine."
"Tender mercies?" I made it a question.
"If you could accept his beast, completely, it would mean something to him."
"I can't, Jean-Claude. I wish I could, but I can't. I saw him eat Marcus. I..." I'd only seen Richard shapeshift once. He'd been injured from the fight with Marcus. He half-collapsed with me underneath him. I'd been trapped under him while fur flowed, muscles formed and shifted, bones broke and reknit. Clear liquid had gushed from his power, pouring over me in a near-scalding wave. Maybe if I'd just been watching, it would have been different. But trapped under him, feeling his body do things on top of me that bodies were never meant to do... it had been too much. If Richard had handled it differently, if I had seen him change in a nice calm way from a distance, then built up to the whole ride, maybe, maybe. But it had happened, and I couldn't forget it. I could still close my eyes and see his manwolf shape gulping down a red, bloody piece of Marcus.
I leaned my back against the wall, cradling the receiver. I was rocking ever so slightly. It reminded me of Jason in the hallway. I made myself stand very still. I wanted to forget. I wanted to be able to accept Richard. But I couldn't.
"Ma petite, are you all right?"
"Fine, I'm fine."
Jean-Claude let that go. He really was getting smarter, at least about me. "I do not wish to cause you distress."
"I've done what I can for Richard on my end." I told Jean-Claude what I'd told the werewolves.
"You surprise me, ma petite. I thought you wanted nothing more to do with the lukoi."
"I don't want Richard to die because I broke his heart."
"You would feel responsible if he died now, is that it?"
"Yeah."
He took a deep breath and let it sigh over the phone. It made me shiver, for no particular reason. "How badly do you wish to help the wereleopards?"
"What kind of question is that?"
"An important one," he said. "What are you willing to risk for them? What would you endure for them?"
"You have something specific in mind, don't you?"
"Padma might give up Vivian in exchange for you. Gregory's freedom could be won if we gave them Jason."
"I notice you're not trading yourself in," I said.
"Padma would not want me, ma petite. He is neither a lover of men nor of other vampires in particular. He prefers his companions warm and female."
"Why Jason then?"
"A werewolf for a wereleopard might be an acceptable trade to him."
"Not to me. We are not trading one hostage for another, and I am certainly not giving myself to that monster."
"You see, ma petite, you will not endure that. You will not risk Jason to save Gregory. I ask again, what will you risk for them?"
"I'll risk my life, but only if I've got a good chance of getting out alive. No sex, absolutely not. No trading one hostage for another. Nobody else gets skinned alive or raped. How's that for parameters?"
"Padma and Fernando will be disappointed, but the others might agree. I will do the best I can within the limits you have given me."
"No rape, no maiming, no actual intercourse, no hostages, does that really tie your hands that much?"
"When we have survived all this, ma petite, and the council has gone home, I will tell you stories of my time at court. I have seen spectacles that even in the telling would give you nightmares."
"Nice to know you think we're going to survive."
"I am hopeful, yes."
"But not certain," I said.
"Nothing is certain, ma petite, not even death."
He had me there. My beeper went off. It pulled a gasp from my throat. Nervous, who me?
"Are you all right, ma petite?"
"My beeper went off," I said. I checked the number. It was Dolph. "It's the police. I need to return the call."
"I will begin negotiations with the council, ma petite. If they ask too much, I will let your leopards remain where they are."
"Padma will kill Vivian now that he thinks she belongs to me. He might have killed her before, but it would have been by accident. If we don't get her out of there, he'll do it on purpose."
"One meeting with him and you are so sure of this?"
"You think I'm wrong?" I asked.
"No, ma petite, I think you are exactly right."
"Get them out of there, Jean-Claude. Make the best deal you can."
"I have your permission to use your name in this?"
"Yeah." My beeper went off a second time. Dolph, impatient as usual. "I've got to go, Jean-Claude."
"Very well, ma petite. I will bargain for us all, then."
"You do that," I said. "Wait..."
"Yes, ma petite."
"You aren't going to go back to the Circus in person tonight, are you? I don't want you in there alone," I said.
"I will use the phone, if you prefer," he said.
"I do."
"You don't trust them," he said.
"Not hardly."
"Wise beyond your years," he said.
"Suspicious beyond my years, you mean."
"That as well, ma petite. If they will not negotiate over the phone?" he asked.
"Then let it go."
"You said you were willing to risk your life, ma petite."
"I didn't say I was willing to risk yours."
"Ah," he said. "Je t'aime, ma petite."
"I love you, too," I said.
He hung up first, and I dialed the police. Here was hoping whatever Dolph had in mind was some nice straightforward police work. Yeah, right.
23
The victim had been rushed to a hospital by the time I arrived at Burnt Offerings. It's one of my favorites of the newer vampire businesses. It was far from the vampire district. The only other vamp businesses were blocks, miles away. As you walked through the doors there was a poster from the 1970's movie Burnt Offerings, Oliver Reed and Bette Davis staring down at you. There was a life size waxwork of Christopher Lee as Dracula in the bar. There was one wall with framed caricatures of horror stars of the sixties and seventies, floor to ceiling, no tables allowed to obstruct the view. It wasn't uncommon to see clusters of visitors trying to identify who was who. At midnight whoever had the most correct guesses got a free dinner for two.
The place was pure schlock. Some of the waiters were real vamps, but others were just wannabes. For some it was just a job, and they specialized in plastic Halloween teeth and jokes. For others it was their chance to pretend. They had dental caps over their canines and worked very hard at being the real thing. Other waiters or waitresses were dressed up as mummies, the wolf man, Frankenstein's monster. To my knowledge the only real monsters were the vamps. If a shapeshifter wanted to come out of the closet, there was better money to be made in more exotic locales.
The place was always packed. I wasn't sure whether Jean-Claude was sorry he hadn't thought of it first or if he was simply embarrassed by it. It was a little declasse for him. Me, I loved it. From the haunted house soundtrack to the Bela Lugosi burgers, extra rare unless otherwise requested. Bela was one of the few exceptions to the 60's and 70's movie decor. Hard to have a horror theme restaurant without the original movie Dracula.
You haven't lived until you've been there on a Friday night for Scary Karaoke. I took Ronnie. Veronica (Ronnie) Sims is a private detective and my best friend. We had a blast.
But back to the body. All right, not a body, a victim. But if the bartender hadn't been fast with a fire extinguisher, it would have been a body.