the shoe fits..." he said, with an unpleasant smile.
I guess we were going to fight after all. "It isn't me you keep comparing everybody to, Richard, it's Raina."
He actually blushed under the permanent tan of his skin. It was maybe the second time I'd ever seen him blush. "Don't, Anita."
Micah had gone very still beside me, as if he were wondering if he should take his arm out from between us.
"You back off of me, and I'll back off of you," I said.
"Richard," it was Louie, "we had this talk, remember?"
Richard stood up, and his power washed around the room like a wind from the mouth of hell. It actually hurt where it touched. "I remember the talk." He stared down at me, and there was such hatred on his face. "I tried last night, Anita, I really tried."
My throat was tight, and my eyes burned. I was already regretting what I'd said, would have done anything to take it back. "I know you did, Richard." My voice sounded small.
"But it's never enough, is it?"
I took a deep breath and stood up. We faced each other. I wanted to run away, but I stood there and watched the hate and pain on his face, the way his big hands kept flexing into fists. His anger breathed through the room like some sort of invisible burning beast.
"I don't know what to say, Richard."
"What would be enough?" he asked.
"What?" I asked.
"What would be enough? Move in with you and Micah and Nathaniel? Move in here with you and Jean-Claude? What do I have to do to win with you, Anita?"
"It isn't about winning, Richard. God, don't you understand that?"
"No," he said, "I don't." He pointed at Jean-Claude. "Him I get. I feel his pull, too. He's my master, too." He pointed at Micah. "But him, I don't get him. He's in my place in your life, don't you understand that?"
I nodded, and tried to breathe past the tight burning in my throat and eyes. I would not cry, damn it. "I understand that," I said.
He pointed at Nathaniel, who'd gone very still beside the couch. "How can you share her with that?"
It was Micah who figured out that he was the one Richard was talking to. "Nathaniel is not a that, Richard." Micah's voice held a thread of anger.
"Do you fuck him? Do you let him fuck you? Or do you just fuck Anita at the same time?"
The unshed tears were going away on a hot wave of anger. I fed the anger, embraced it, called it sweet names, because I'd rather fight than cry.
"The way you and Jean..." I started to say.
Jean-Claude called the fight. He called it with a push of power that staggered both of us. I nearly fell, and Richard looked ashen. We both turned and looked at the vampire. His eyes were glittering blue pools, like the night sky was on fire.
"Enough of this." His voice whispered through the room like an echo of bats, bouncing off the curtains.
I knew he was our master, but I'd never felt him do anything like this to us. Never felt him simply throw his power into us and stop us in our tracks. I hadn't known he had it in him.
"We are in danger here, do you not understand that? Most of our guards are wererats. If Rafael pulls them out, we do not have enough guards to keep ourselves safe." He uncurled from the couch and walked toward us, his long black curls moving in the wind of his own power.
We watched him come toward us like small birds that wanted to fly from the snake, but couldn't make ourselves move.
"I am sorry, mon lupe, that you wish her to marry you and abandon the rest of us. I am sorry, ma petite, that you still love him, and that some part of you wishes you could do exactly what he wants. I am sorry that I have bound you together into such pain. But there is no time for this. We need Rafael and his people. He knows that, or he would not have come like this." Jean-Claude stood in front of us, and his power pushed so that I swayed in the wind of it. I knew he'd gained in power, but I hadn't understood, until that moment, just how much. "I will pick a blood donor among the rats. I will urge others of my vampires to do the same. You, ma petite, must choose one