his heart, the rush of him.
He reached out to Jean-Claude, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket. He finally whispered, "What have you done to me?"
"Saved you, mon ami, saved you."
Damian slumped suddenly. His body began to quiet. I began to lose the sense of his pulse, the taste of his heart. It slid slowly away and I let it go. But I was almost sure I could have held it. I could have kept the feel and rush of his body. I could have made it rise and fall to my touch. I was almost sure.
I ran my hand through his thick red hair and knew temptation, and it was only slightly tinged with sex. I raised my still bleeding hand where I could see it. It wasn't much of a cut; two, three stitches and I'd be fine. It hurt, but not enough.
I ran the still bleeding hand through his hair. The thickness of his hair slid across the open wound, abrading it. The pain was suddenly sharper, aching and nauseating. Enough pain to bring me back to myself.
Damian stared up at me, afraid. Afraid of me.
Chapter 18~19
18
"My how terribly impressive." I turned, Damian still in my lap. Yvette was stalking down the hallway towards us. She'd lost the mink stole, and the white dress was very simple, very elegant, very Chanel. The rest of the scene was pure Marquis de Sade.
Jason, werewolf, flunky, sometimes voluntary appetizer to the undead, was with her. He was dressed in a cross between black leather pants and skin-tight chaps. Bare skin showed at his thighs, and what looked like a leather thong covered his groin. Around his neck was a metal-studded dog collar with a leash attached to it. Yvette was holding the leash. Fresh bruises marched down his face, neck, arms. There were cuts on his lower chest and stomach that looked like claw marks. His hands were bound behind his back, arms pulled so tight to his body that that alone had to hurt.
Yvette stopped about eight feet from us, posing. She shoved Jason hard enough in the back for him to let out a small sound, forcing him to his knees. She drew the leash tight so he was almost hanging.
She smoothed her hand through his yellow hair, adjusting it, like he was about to get his picture taken. "He's my gift while I'm here. Do you like the wrapping?"
"Can you sit up?" I asked Damian.
"I think so." He rolled off my lap, sitting up carefully, as if everything wasn't working quite right yet.
I got to my feet. "How you doing, Jason?"
"I'm okay," he said.
Yvette jerked the leash tighter, so he couldn't talk. I realized that the inside of the collar had metal spikes on it, a choke collar. Great.
"He is my wolf, Yvette. Mine to protect. You cannot have him," Jean-Claude said.
"I have already had him," she said. "But I will have him again. I have not hurt him yet. The bruises are not my doing. He got that in defense of this place. In defense of you. Ask him yourself." She eased the collar, and then the leash itself.
Jason took a long breath and looked at us.
"Did she hurt you?" Jean-Claude asked.
"No," he said.
"You have shown great restraint," Jean-Claude said to Yvette. "Or have your tastes changed since last we embraced?"
She laughed. "Oh, no, my tastes are the same as they always were. I will torment him now in front of you and you will be powerless to stop me. This way I torment several people for the price of one." She smiled. She looked better than she had at the restaurant. Not quite so pale.
"Who'd you feed off of?" I asked.
Her eyes flicked to me. "You'll see soon enough." She turned her attention to Warrick. He didn't exactly cringe, but he seemed suddenly smaller, less shining. "Warrick, you failed me."
Warrick stood against the wall, Damian's sword still in his hand. "I did not mean to hurt him, mistress."
"Oh, I don't mean that. You guarded them while they brought him back."
"You said I would be punished if he died."
"So I did, but would you really have used that great sword on me?"
He dropped to his knees. "No, mistress."
"Then how could you guard them?"
Warrick shook his head. "I did not think . . ."
"You never do." She pulled Jason in against her legs, cradling his face against her thigh. "Watch, Jason, watch and see what I do to bad little boys."
Warrick got to his feet, putting his back