nodded and let the robe slip to the floor. I stood in front of him naked and had the feeling I'd had from almost the first moment, that my skin was thick with need. He reached for me again, and this time I let him help me climb up on the big bed. The bed was big enough that he could draw me down beside him without either of us touching Nathaniel's sleeping form.
In November, when Jean-Claude and I had rolled Augustine of Chicago, we'd also figured out something else. My instant lust for Micah, and his for me, had been vampire powers. Not Jean-Claude's, or Augustine's, but mine. My vampire powers, mine and mine alone. My powers may have started with Jean-Claude's marks, but they had mutated with my necromancy and become something else, something more. I was like a vampire of Belle Morte's line, and all of her line had powers dealing with sex and love, though not real love, not usually. That was beyond most of Belle's line. My version of her ardeur allowed me to see the strongest need in someone's heart, and my own, and meet those needs. When Micah had come to me, I'd needed a helpmate, someone to help me run the shapeshifter coalition that we'd just established. Someone to help me with the wereleopards that I'd inherited when I killed their old leader. I'd needed help and someone who didn't see my cold-blooded practicality as a bad thing. Micah had met those needs, and I had given him his greatest wish, to have his own wereleopards safe from Chimera, the sexual sadist who had taken them over. I'd killed Chimera, freed them all, and Micah had moved in with me. Just like that. It had been so unlike me, and in November we'd realized why; my own vampire tricks had made us a couple.
Micah was under the silk and I was on top of it. His hands danced down my body as our lips found each other. We must have moved too much because Nathaniel made a small noise. It made us freeze in mid-motion and look at him. His face was still peaceful, eyes still closed, his hair a gleam in the near dark.
Vampire powers had made Nathaniel my animal to call, and made us love each other, too. It was real love, true love, but it had begun with vampire mind tricks. But Belle Morte's powers cut both ways. As Auggie had said, "You can only cut someone as deep as you're willing to be cut." Apparently, I'd been willing to be cut to the heart.
Nathaniel stirred in his sleep again. His face flexed, frowned. He made another small sound. It was his bad dream sound. He'd had more nightmares of late. His therapist said it was because he felt safe enough with us to explore his deeper pain. We were his safe haven. Why did safety raise all the shit deeper? It seemed like it should have been the other way around, didn't it?
We reached for him at the same time - Micah's hand going for the bare paleness of his shoulder, my hand going for his cheek. We stroked him wordlessly. Most of the time petting him in his sleep was all it took to chase the bad things away. Real-life bad things weren't so easy.
There was a soft knock on the door. We both looked toward it and Nathaniel stirred, one arm pulling out of the covers. He blinked awake, his eyes confused, as if he expected to be somewhere else. He saw us and visibly relaxed. He smiled, and said, "What is it?"
I shook my head, still lying pressed in Micah's arms. Micah said, "Don't know."
I called, "What?"
It was Remus, one of the ex-military werehyenas. They'd been hired after Chimera nearly destroyed the bodybuilders and martial artists of the hyenas. As Peter had said, it wasn't real. The hyenas had liked showy muscle that had never seen real battle. They'd learned that just because muscle is pretty doesn't mean it's the real deal. "It's the Ulfric. He wants in."
Ulfric, wolf king, Richard Zeeman was at our door. The question was, why? I wanted to ask what he wanted, but he might take it wrong, so I looked at Micah.
He shrugged, lying back, one arm still curved around me, holding me along the line of his body. I stayed propped up so I could see the door, and so most of my nakedness was covered. Richard was