When he turned back to me, his eyes were amber, and no longer human. "You are my lupa, Anita, but I am still Ulfric. I won't let you do to me what Raina has done to Marcus. I lead this pack." There was a hardness to his voice that was new. I'd discovered his male ego at last.
Jean-Claude laughed, a high, delighted sound that made me shiver. Richard hugged his bare arms as if he felt it, too.
"Don't you realize by now, Richard, that ma petiteis either your equal or your master? She knows no other way to be." He came to stand by us. He looked amused as hell.
"I want her to be my equal," Richard said.
"But not within the pack," Jean-Claude said.
Richard shook his head. "No, I mean... No, Anita is my equal."
"Then what are you bitching about?" I said.
He glared at me with his alien eyes. "I am Ulfric, not you."
"Lead, and I'll follow, Richard." I stepped close to him, almost touching. "But lead, Richard, really lead, or get out of the way."
28
"As amusing asthis is," Jean-Claude said, "and believe me, ma petite,Richard, it is amusing. We do not have time for this particular argument, not if Richard stands any hope of not being forced to kill tonight."
We both glared at him, and he gave that graceful shrug that meant everything and nothing. "We must call the magic again, but this time, Richard needs to try and pull some of it into himself. He needs to do something that would impress his pack. This," he motioned to the zombies, "though impressive, looks too much like Anita's work."
"You've got a suggestion, I take it."
"Perhaps," he said. His eyes turned very serious then, the humor dying away until his face was lovely and blank. "But first, I think I have a question or two for you, myself, ma petite. I think it is not only Richard that you are emasculating today."
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
He cocked his head to one side. "Perhaps you honestly do not know?" He sounded surprised. "There is a small hallway to the right. Look inside it."
I could see the archway at the top of the hall, but the zombies filled the space, hiding the rest from view. "Move forward," I said. The zombies moved like a single organism, their dead eyes watching my face as if I were all that mattered. To them, I was.
The zombies moved like a shambling curtain. I could see the smaller hallway now, and the figures waiting inside. "Stop," I said. The zombies stopped as if I'd hit a switch.
Liv, the blond bouncer from Danse Macabre, stood just inside the smaller hallway. She was still dressed in her violet body suit. Her extraordinary violet eyes stared at me, empty, waiting. My pulse thudded in my throat. There were other figures behind her.
Richard said softly, "This isn't possible."
I didn't argue with him. It would have been too hard.
"Bring them out, ma petite, let us see who you have called from their coffins." His voice was warm with the beginnings of anger.
"What's eating you?"
He laughed, but it was bitter. "I threatened my people with this, but you said nothing. You did not tell me you could truly raise vampires like any other zombie."
"I've only done it once before."
"Indeed," he said.
"Don't get all pissy on me."
"I shall get pissy if I want to," he said. "These are my people, my companions, and you have them walking around like puppets. I find that most disquieting."
"So do I," I said. I looked back at the vampires. Liv, who had been so animated last night, stood there like a well-preserved zombie. No. No, I'd never have mistaken her for a zombie. I could feel a difference. But there she stood, that muscular body waiting for my next order. There were others behind her. I couldn't see how many. Too many.
"Can you put my vampires back, ma petite?"
I continued to look at Liv, avoiding Jean-Claude's eyes. "I don't know."
He touched my chin, turning me to face him. He studied my face, eyes searching, as if some hint of truth might show through. I let anger fill my face, anger was always a great thing to hide behind.
"What did you do with the last vampire you raised, ma petite?"
I pulled away from him. He grabbed my arm unbelievably fast. Too fast to see. What happened next was simply automatic. He held my right upper arm, but I could still bend at the elbow and point the Firestar at him. The Uzi in my left hand pointed at him, too. He could have crushed my arm before I fired one gun, but not both. But for the first time, staring down the barrel of a gun at him was problematic. The sash of his robe had come loose and I could see a triangle of pale flesh. I could see where his heart would be. I could blow his heart out his back and sever his spine. And I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to splatter that beautiful body all over the wall. Damn.
Richard came closer. He didn't touch either of us. He just stared from one to the other. "Is he hurting you, Anita?"
"No," I said.
"Then should you be pointing a gun at him?"
"He shouldn't be touching me," I said.
Richard's voice was very mild. "He just finished touching you a lot more than this, Anita."
"Why are you helping him?"
"He helped me. Besides, if you kill him over something small and stupid, you'll never forgive yourself."
I took a deep breath and let it out. Some of the tension eased with the breath. I lowered the Uzi.
Jean-Claude released my arm.
I pointed the Firestar at the floor and looked at Richard. There was something in his eyes, even the wolf's amber eyes, that was all too human. Pain. He knew how much Jean-Claude meant to me. It was there in his eyes. That one comment said that he understood my relationship with the vampire, maybe better than I did.
I wanted to apologize to him, but I wasn't sure he'd understand what it was for. I wasn't even sure I could explain it. If you love someone, truly love them, you should never cause them pain. Never fill their eyes with something so close to grief.
"I'm sorry I got mad at you earlier. You want what's best for the pack, I know that."
"You still think I'm a fool to want a bloodless coup," he said.
I stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently. "Not a fool, just naive, terribly naive."
"Very touching, ma petite. And I do appreciate your interference on my behalf, Richard, but these are my people. I promised them certain freedoms when they joined me. I ask again. Can you put them back as they were?"
I turned to Jean-Claude, one hand still balancing against Richard's chest. "I don't know."
"Then you had better find out, ma petite."
It sounded too much like a threat for my taste, but... there was a figure behind Liv the bouncer that I couldn't take my eyes off of. I walked towards the waiting vampires. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My stomach clenched into a hard lump, my chest was tight. I finally said it: "Willie McCoy, come to me."
Willie walked out from behind the tall blond vampire. He was wearing the same chartreuse suit he'd had on at Danse Macabre. His brown eyes seemed to see me, but they were empty of that spark that was Willie. He wasn't home. It was like watching a puppet moving, and I was the puppet master. I tasted something bitter at the back of my throat. My eyes were hot and tight. I wasn't sure if I was going to throw up or cry first.
I stopped him about two feet from me. Close enough that I couldn't pretend or wish it away. I swallowed hard, and tears hot enough to scald ran down my face. "I didn't want to know this," I whispered.
Jean-Claude came to stand beside me. "Willie," he said, his voice vibrated through the room. Willie's body thrummed to the sound like a tuning fork struck. "Willie, look at me."
The blank, familiar face turned slowly towards his master. Something flickered through the eyes for a moment; something moved that I had no name for.
"This has possibilities," Jean-Claude said.
"Willie," I said, "look at me." My voice wasn't nearly as impressive as the vampire's, but Willie turned to me.
"No," Jean-Claude said, "look at me, Willie."
Willie hesitated.
"Willie," I said, "come to me." I held out a hand and he took a step towards me.
Jean-Claude said, "Stop, Willie, do not go to her."
Willie hesitated, almost turning to Jean-Claude.
I concentrated on that curl of power inside of me, that thing that allowed me to raise the dead and let it wash over me, flow out of me. I called Willie's body to me and nothing Jean-Claude could do would get him to turn away from me.