Bullet Page 0,147

fun of our names?” Mephistopheles asked, with that arrogant pout to his lower lip.

“Trying hard not to, actually.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“Fine, what do your girlfriends call you? I mean they can’t call out Mephistopheles in the heat of passion, it’s too long. You’ve got to have a nickname.”

He actually blushed.

I had an awful idea. I looked at Jake. “Please tell me that they aren’t virgins.”

“That’s a question for them, Anita.”

I took a deep breath, let it out, and turned to the men. “Well?”

“We’re not,” Pride said.

I looked at Mephistopheles, who didn’t seem to want to make eye contact. “He seems awfully uncomfortable.”

Mephistopheles stood up, and his power flowed through the room like someone had just turned on a hot bath. “We’re trained to meet the needs of every bloodline, and that includes Belle Morte.”

I had to think about it for a moment, then said, “So, trained in sex for Belle Morte. Combat for the Dragon. What did you train in for the Master of Beasts, and the Lover of Death?”

“The Lover of Death is combat, and the Master of Beasts is weak,” Pride said. “We knew no one in his line would ever come for us. The Earthmover never made enough vampires to be a bloodline that would come for us. The Traveller’s line is all but dead. He can’t make more of his own bloodline unless he uses his original body, and he won’t do that. He won’t risk it being destroyed.”

“What about the Mother of All Darkness?” I asked.

“She’s not a bloodline,” Pride said. “She’s the enemy.”

“So really you guys have been training your whole lives for just three bloodlines: the Dragon, the Lover of Death, and Belle Morte.”

All three of them agreed with that.

“Which brings us back to our original problem: How do I find out if my tiger likes your tiger?”

Pride, who was the only one still sitting down, said, “A kiss may do it, but sex may be necessary.” He said it as if he were talking about the difference between getting an inoculation or having to have surgery.

“Since you seem as thrilled with the whole idea as I am, why don’t we just kiss and call it done.”

Mephistopheles said, “You don’t want to have sex with us?”

This was a tricky question from a man. I tried to answer it carefully. “You’re both handsome. It’s nothing personal, but you just seem to come with a lot of baggage and I don’t want to mess with it.”

“Baggage, what does that mean?”

“You’re angry just from this. I have my own anger issues; I don’t need yours.”

He balled his hands into fists, and his power went up a level. Something moved inside me, a golden shadow among tall, dark trees. I caught a glimpse of the golden tiger, but she wasn’t trying to walk down that long road. She was hiding in the shadows, her skin cream with stripes of yellow-gold.

Pride stood then and sniffed the air. “You don’t smell like vampire.”

“She smells like us,” Envy said from the doorway. She took a few steps onto the white rug.

Mephistopheles came to stand in front of me. I thought he was going to try to kiss me, but his hand darted out in a movement so fast I wasn’t sure what he was going for, but it wasn’t a kiss. My gun was just suddenly in my hand and pressed against his chest. My pulse was trying to push out the side of my throat. “Don’t move,” I whispered, afraid to shout because my finger was on the trigger.

“No human, and few vampires, would have been able to see I was going for their gun, let alone gotten to it in time to turn it on me.” He sounded impressed with me.

“If you have a death wish, you’re messing with the right girl,” I said.

“We’re supposed to make sure whatever vampire tries to possess us is worthy of us.” He was a little afraid, but not really. He didn’t believe I’d shoot him. I’d passed his test.

“Are there any more tests that I should know about so I don’t accidentally kill you?” I asked.

“Don’t you want us to prove that we’re worthy of you, too?” he asked.

“Hold that thought.” I backed away from him, carefully, and began to take off my weapons. “If we end up killing these guys, let’s not make it because we had a cultural misunderstanding.”

“What do you mean?” Micah asked.

“He really believes I want him to prove he’s a warrior. He really