Crimson Death - Page 97/260

“I’ve tried just being nice, but that doesn’t get you respected by people like him.”

“People like me? What’s that supposed to mean?” Bobby Lee asked.

“The big athletic guys who have been big and athletic for most of their lives. The ones who played sports. The natural athletes. Military. Police. All the guy-guys. I can’t win points with any of you for cooking, cleaning, because that’s wimmin’s work.”

I was staring at Nathaniel as if I’d never seen him before, and I hadn’t seen this side of him. I knew that guy-guys confused him and he’d never fit into their world, but this level of bitterness was a surprise to me.

“You’re a dancer. That’s athletic,” Bobby Lee said.

“But it’s not football, is it?” Nathaniel shook his head, his power so thick in the room now it was hard to breathe past it. It wasn’t calling my inner beasts like most of the wereanimals did when they started doing shit like this; it was almost more like warm vampire power than wereanimal energy. It was too warm, too alive, to be vampire, but it just felt like power. The kind that vamps threw around to impress or attack each other, and to torment the lesser beings.

“Back down, Nathaniel,” I demanded.

“Him first.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, Bobby Lee is doing his best not to throw more energy onto this little fire. His control is admirable, which is more than I can say for yours.”

“You heard him, Anita. He doesn’t count our triumvirate as important.”

“Until right now, only Anita had gained power, and she’s gotten the respect that deserved.”

“And now?” Nathaniel asked, his voice purring along my skin as if his breath had touched me for real. It made me shiver and have to catch my breath. It was something Jean-Claude would do, but not Nathaniel.

“What are you trying to prove, Nathaniel?” I asked, rubbing my hands along my arms.

“Now you’re proving that the only reason you’ve been nice up to now is that you didn’t have enough power to be mean,” Bobby Lee said.

The power from Nathaniel faltered as if magic could trip over its own feet.

The door opened without a knock. It was Damian. “What are you doing in here?”

It was while Nathaniel and I looked at the door that Bobby Lee proved that he was as fast as Nicky had been in practice. He went from standing still to being up against Nathaniel with a naked blade against his neck.

We all froze, because any movement could make things worse, so best to think carefully before you act. Honestly, I froze because it was just so damned unexpected that I didn’t know what to do. Bobby Lee wasn’t a bad guy. He wasn’t even one of the guards who were a pain in my ass. Until this moment I’d have trusted him damn near implicitly.

His voice came low and careful. “Power is like strength. It means nothing if you don’t know what to do with it.”

“You’ve made your point, Bobby Lee,” I said.

Damian started walking farther into the room.

“Have I made my point, Nathaniel?”

Nathaniel spoke carefully with the blade against his neck. “Powers down.”

“You powered down because I startled you, not on purpose. It takes time to learn how to use magic, just like muscles.” He started to ease the knife back from Nathaniel, then pushed it in tighter.

“Bobby Lee,” I said.

“Tell your other man to back off.”

I looked at Damian, and he was behind the wererat with a blade in his hand. I’d never seen Damian carry a knife; a sword, but not a knife. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Defending us.”

“I’m not the enemy,” Bobby Lee said.

“You have a knife at my friend’s neck.”

“I’m teaching a lesson.”

“What lesson?” Damian asked.

“The next person he throws that kind of power at won’t be teaching, or playing; they’ll just kill him.”

“We get it; now everyone back down,” I said.

“Tell your vampire to back off first.”

“Damian.”

“Tell him to take the blade away from Nathaniel’s neck.”

“Bobby Lee.”

“He backs up first.”

“Damian, put the knife up,” I ordered. He should have just done what I said, but for the first time ever he didn’t. What the hell was happening? I tried again. “Damian, put up your knife, now!”

“I don’t seem to have to.” He sounded puzzled, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with the fact.

The door opened; I had a glimpse of black-and-white curls and knew it was Domino. He held his hands up to show that he meant no harm. His voice sounded more than just regular normal—it was that false cheerful voice you use when trying to de-escalate, rather than push things further. “Who’s throwing all the magic around?” he asked.

“Nathaniel,” I said.

He didn’t look surprised, just took it in stride. “What’s up, Bobby Lee?”

“Nothing much. You?” His voice sounded perfectly ordinary, as if he weren’t holding a blade to the neck of someone he was supposed to be protecting.

“You know that Nathaniel wouldn’t really hurt you. He’s just a little drunk on the new magic,” Domino said.

“He doesn’t know how to use it as an offensive weapon yet.”