shifted uneasily on the cool dirt. "Why did I tell you that? I should have just kept saying I didn't believe you, and I definitely shouldn't have offered so much information. Why did I do that?"
"I told the truth, Nicky; I don't know."
"You could be lying," he said.
"I could," I said, "but you'll just have to take it on faith that I'm not."
He gave me a look that even in the dimness of the shed was clear. It was a look that said he didn't take anything on faith. He gave a sound halfway between a laugh and a snort. He was still smiling as he said, "What have you done to me, Anita?"
"I don't know," I said, and my body was growing even calmer, because no one was actively trying to hurt me or mine, and I needed to save some of the adrenaline for later. It wasn't really a conscious thing; just if the violence wasn't immediate, I calmed.
His smile began to slip away as he asked, "But if you had to guess, what would it be?"
"Touch me and maybe we'll figure it out." That was true, touch would help me understand what was happening more, but I was still trying to find an ally in all this mess. I needed help, and he'd sense if I called anyone mind to mind, which left him as the best chance I had for help.
He hugged his arms tighter around his knees. "I don't think touching you again would be a good idea, Anita."
"You want to touch me, don't you?"
"More than almost anything, which is exactly why it's a bad idea." He hugged his knees tighter until I saw the muscles in his arms bulge with the effort. I think he was holding himself tight so he wouldn't give in to the urge to reach out his hand and close the small distance between us.
I sympathized, God knew I did. How many times had I fought against touching Jean-Claude before he finally won that battle? Hell, how many times had I fought not to touch a lot of vampires, or shapeshifters? So many of the preternatural powers grew worse when you touched, but in this moment I needed them to grow worse. They'd taken my weapons, and killing Nicky wouldn't stop Jacob from making that fatal phone call. Without weapons I couldn't kill everyone quick enough to save Micah. I might be able to do something to save two out of three, but at least one phone call would get through. That wasn't an eventuality I was willing to play with, so violence was out for now. I'd put it in reserves for later, but for right now I needed something less violent, and more sneaky. I didn't have a lot of sneaky in my arsenal of skills, but I had a few things. Things that had made Nicky fight his Rex over so little interaction with me. What would happen if I gave him a lot more interaction? What would happen if I used my vampire wiles and tried to take him over? Could I do it? Was I willing to do it? For Micah, yes; for all three of them, hell yes. I'd compromised my moral standards to save strangers' lives, so what would I do to save someone I loved?
There was only one answer to that question: Anything.
I held out my hand. "Come to me, Nicky."
"No," he said, but it was a whisper.
I remembered this game. There'd been a time years ago when I'd fought every time Jean-Claude had wanted to touch me. I'd craved the feel of his hand on my body long before I'd been willing to admit it out loud. I realized with a start that sent jolts of electricity down my fingertips that I wanted to touch Nicky. I wanted the feel of his skin under my hand. Normally, this would have made me run the other way, but not tonight. Tonight I couldn't afford to be afraid of this part of myself, because it was the only weapon I had left.
I thought I'd have to touch him first, but in the end he came to me. He wasn't strong enough to force me to come to him.
He crawled on all fours, closing the small distance between us. Lycanthropes, especially the cat-based ones, can crawl like they have muscles in places no human ever possessed, all liquid grace and sensuality. Nicky just crawled, almost like he wasn't sure it was a good idea.