Crimson Death - Page 110/260

“I have to be one or the other,” Cynric said.

“No, you can be wrong and right at the same time.”

“No, you can’t,” Cynric said.

“As much as I’d prefer the world to be black and white, yes or no, right or wrong, Nicky’s right: Sometimes you can be both,” I said.

“Ah, ma petite, you have grown in wisdom since first we met, for then you believed the world was black and white without gray in between.”

“What’s that mean?” Cynric asked.

“It means that once upon a time I would have agreed with you, that there was no way to be right and wrong at the same time.”

“I still don’t understand,” he said.

“Tell them your plan and then they’ll explain it to you,” Nicky said.

Cynric got a stubborn look on his face. “It’s logical,” he said.

“I didn’t argue logic with you, kid.”

“Please, stop calling me kid. It doesn’t really help me make my point.”

“Not my job to help you make your point,” Nicky said.

I frowned at both of them. “Why are you guys almost fighting?”

“The kid—oh, sorry, Sin—is trying to cockblock me.”

Cynric rolled his eyes. “Thanks for that elegant introduction to the conversation, Nicky.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a smile that looked real, as if he didn’t get the joke. I knew he got it, but I also knew he was a wonderful actor when he wanted or needed to be. A lot of sociopaths are.

“Enough conversation, Cynric,” I said. “Just tell us what’s going on.”

“Anita, please use my name.”

“That is your name.”

“Then use the nickname I prefer.”

I sighed and made it a big one, but finally said, “Fine, Sin. I wish you at least spelled it C-Y-N.”

“You know that everyone mispronounced it that way.”

“I know, I know. They kept calling you Cindy, Sidney, or Sid.”

“Or Carol, Karen, Carl, or Candy—that was my favorite when I was spelling it C-Y-N.”

“Fine. Sin, spelled just like it sounds. What’s up?” I said, but didn’t try to keep the crankiness out of my voice.

His expression went from stubborn to his own version of cranky. He was a very handsome guy, but not in this mood. A lot of men in my life, and women, would have given it up by now, but Cynric—sorry, Sin—had a streak of stubbornness and determination that gave mine a run for its money, which was saying something.

“Nicky is going with Anita to Ireland along with three vampires. If he donates blood to Jean-Claude now, he won’t be able to donate again for a couple of days. The same for Anita and the ardeur, but I can feed her and donate blood to Jean-Claude now and leave Nicky fresh for later.”

“You make Nicky sound like a tomato that’ll spoil if we squeeze it too much,” I said.

Sin shrugged. “Isn’t that pretty accurate?”

Nicky chuckled low and deep in his chest.

I looked at him. “Is that how we make you feel, like an object?”

The smile was still showing in his face as he said, “No, but then we’re in love with each other, and when you feed, the sex is part of our relationship.”

Jean-Claude said, “And do I make you feel like a piece of food rather than a person?”

Nicky shook his head. “You make me feel like prey sometimes, but never just food.”

“I do not see you as prey, Nicky.”

“Maybe prey is the wrong word. What do you call someone that you’re trying to seduce?”

Jean-Claude looked surprised, which could have been totally pretend, but I didn’t think so, or maybe I didn’t want to think so.

“I swear to you, Nicky, that I have not tried to seduce you when you allowed me to feed.”

Nicky studied the vampire’s face for a minute, then turned to me. “Has he been trying?”

“To seduce you?”

He nodded.

“No, I mean, not really. Jean-Claude is very sensual in almost everything he does, and he treats taking blood as important. He never makes it fast food, if you know what I mean.”

“You donate your life’s blood to keep me alive and well. How can I treat it as anything but a sacred sharing?”

“Sacred sharing, I like it,” I said.

“Are you just going to ignore my suggestion?” Sin asked.

“I think we were hoping you’d rethink it,” I said.

“Why?”

“I have never taken blood from you, neveu, and I would not start now.”

“Why not?”

“You do not understand what you are asking of me.”

“I’ve donated blood to Echo.”

“You are her lover and her wife’s lover. I call you neveu. It means ‘nephew’ and I use the word very deliberately, Sin.”

Sin nodded. “I know, you use it to remind yourself that I am your beloved nephew, the prince to your king, not a romantic partner.”

“If you know all that, then how can you offer yourself to me like this?”

“I’m not offering to have sex with you, Jean-Claude, just give blood.”

“It’s never just blood with Jean-Claude,” I said, studying his face. I could have lowered my shields and understood what he was actually feeling, or even thinking, because I could share both with my animals to call, but I didn’t try to get emotionally closer. Until I found out where this was going and why, I wasn’t sure I wanted Sin inside my head that far.