A low, trickling growl rumbled out of him. My pulse beat a little faster.
Larry's gun was suddenly pointing past my nose at the werewolf's face. "Don't," Larry said. His voice was low and even, and very damn serious.
I eased back off the bar stool, bringing the Browning with me. Didn't really want Larry's gun to go off right next to my face.
I pointed my gun at Jason's chest, one-handed, almost casual. "Don't ever threaten me again."
Jason stared at me. His beast lurked just behind his eyes like a wave rushing towards the shore.
"You start going furry, and I won't wait to find out if you're bluffing," I said.
Larry had one knee on the bar stool, gun still pointed nice and steady. I hoped he didn't fall off the bar stool and accidentally shoot Jason. If he shot him, I wanted it to be on purpose.
Jason's shoulders relaxed. His hands unclenched, leaving the fork and the drink on the bar. He closed his eyes and sat very still for nearly a full minute. Larry and I waited, guns still pointed. Larry's eyes flicked to me. I shook my head.
Jason opened his eyes and let out a deep, sighing breath. He looked normal again, that tension drained away. He grinned. "I had to try."
I took another step back, putting my back to the wall. Out of reach, I lowered the gun. Larry hesitated, but followed my lead.
"So you tried; now what?"
He shrugged. "You're dominant to me."
"Just like that," I said.
"Would you be happier if I made you fight me?"
I shook my head.
"But I backed her up," Larry said. "She didn't do it alone."
"Doesn't matter. You're loyal to her, would risk your life for her. There's more to being dominant than just muscle, or guns."
Larry looked puzzled. "What do you mean, dominant? I feel like I'm missing part of the conversation."
"Why are you working so damn hard at not being human, Jason?" I asked.
He smiled and went back to his breakfast.
"Answer me, Jason."
He finished off his eggs and said, "No."
"What's going on?" Larry said.
"Mind games," I said.
Larry made an exasperated noise. "Someone explain to me why we had to pull a gun on someone who's supposed to be on our side."
"Jean-Claude keeps telling me Richard isn't any more human than he is. Jason's little display helps emphasize that. Doesn't it, wolf-boy?"
Jason ate the rest of his food like we weren't there.
"Answer me," I said.
He turned on the bar stool, putting his elbows behind him. "I have too many masters now, Anita. I don't need another one."
"And I've got too many monsters messing with me right now. Don't add yourself to the list, Jason."
"Is it a short list?" he asked.
"Gets shorter all the time," I said.
He smiled and slid off the bar stool. "Is anybody tired but me?"
Larry and I stared at him. The werewolf didn't look tired--more than I could say for us mere humans.
Jason wasn't going to answer my questions, and they weren't important enough to shoot him over. Stalemate.
"Fine; where are you sleeping?" I asked.
"If you trust me not to eat him, in Larry's room."
"No way," I said.
"You want me here, with you?"
"I told him he could stay in my room on the ride over," Larry said.
"That was before he pulled the werewolf crap," I said.
Larry shrugged. "You've got the Master of the City tucked into your bed. I think I can handle one werewolf."
I didn't think so. But I didn't want to discuss it in front of the werewolf. "No, Larry."
He was instantly angry. "What do I have to do to prove myself to you?"
"Stay alive," I said.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're not a shooter, Larry."
"I was willing to shoot him." Larry pointed to the smiling werewolf.
"I know."
"Because I'm not trigger-happy, you don't trust me to handle myself?"
I sighed. "Larry, please. If Jason turned furry in the middle of the day and killed you, I couldn't live with myself."
"And if he kills you?" Larry said.
"He won't."
"Why not?" Larry asked.
"Because Jean-Claude would kill him. If he hurt you, I'd kill him, but I don't know if Jean-Claude would avenge you. Jason's more frightened of Jean-Claude than he is of me. Aren't you, Jason?"
Jason had sat down on the end of the couch on my blanket. "Oh, yes."
"I don't know why," Larry said. "You're the one who kills for Jean-Claude. He never seems to kill anyone on his own."
"Larry, who would you be more afraid of, Jean-Claude or me?"
"You wouldn't hurt me," he said.
"If you had to face one of us, which would you prefer?"
Larry looked at me for a long time. The anger drained away, replaced by something tired and old in his eyes. "Him."
"For God's sake, why?" I asked.
"I've seen you kill a lot of people, Anita. A lot more than Jean-Claude. He might try to frighten me to death, but you'd just kill me."
My mouth was open, just a little. "If you really believe that I'm more dangerous than Jean-Claude, then you haven't been paying attention."
"I didn't say you were more dangerous. I said you'd kill me quicker."
"That's why I'm not as afraid of Anita as I am of Jean-Claude," Jason said.
Larry looked at him. "What do you mean?"
"All she'll do is kill me, quick, neat. Jean-Claude wouldn't kill me quick, or easy. He'd make sure it hurt."
The two men stared at each other. Each one's logic was sound as far as it went. I was with Jason. "If you really believe what you're saying, Larry, then you haven't seen enough vampires."
"How am I ever going to see enough vampires if you keep me at arm's length, Anita?"
Had I really kept him out of it that much? Had I overprotected him? Let him see my ruthlessness but not Jean-Claude's?
"And I'm going to the master's tomorrow night. You are not leaving me behind anymore."
"You're right," I said. The answer seemed to surprise both of them.
"If you really believe that I'd kill someone quicker than Jean-Claude would, I have overprotected you. You have to understand how dangerous they are, Larry. How deadly, or someday I won't be around and you'll get killed."
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. My stomach was tight with fear. Fear that Larry would get killed because I'd kept him out of it. It was something I hadn't anticipated.
"Come on, Jason," Larry said.
Jason stood up.
"No. Tomorrow you can be ass-deep in vampires with me watching. Until you understand how dangerous the monsters are, I don't want you alone with them."
His eyes were angry and hurt. I'd undercut his confidence, his self-esteem. But... what else could I do?
Larry turned abruptly on his heel and left. He didn't argue. He didn't say goodbye. He slammed the door behind him, and I fought an urge to follow him. What could I say? I leaned my forehead against the door, and whispered, "Damn."
"Do I get the couch?" Jason asked.
I turned and leaned against the door. I still had the Browning in my hand, though I wasn't sure why anymore. I was getting tired, sloppy. "No, I get the couch."
"Where do you want me, then?"
"I don't care; just not near me."
He ran his hands down the edge of the blanket, running the cloth between his fingers. "If you're really sleeping out here, I'd just as soon have the bed."
"It's taken," I said.
"How big is the bed?"
"King-size, but what difference does it make?"
"Jean-Claude won't mind if I share with him. He'd prefer it was you, but..." He shrugged.
I looked at him, at his tranquil, pleasant face. "Is this the first time you've shared a bed with Jean-Claude?"
"No," he said.
It must have shown on my face, because he lowered the high neck of the sweater enough for me to see two fang marks. I pushed away from the wall and walked closer. Close enough to see that the bite was almost healed.
"Sometimes he likes a snack when he first wakes up," Jason said.
"Jesus," I said.
Jason let go of the collar, and it slid over the bite like it wasn't there. The same way you'd hide a hickey. Jason sat there looking harmless. He was exactly my height, and had the face of a knowledgeable angel.