"What about everybody else? Do they represent anybody?"
"Asher speaks for Belle Morte. Beautiful Death. It is her line that I am descended from, as is he."
"He hates your guts," I said. "We are sunk."
"I believe the choice of four was very deliberate. They wish me to take a council seat, so I am the fifth vote."
"If the Traveler votes with you, and Yvette hates Padma more than she hates you..."
"Ma petite, if I act as a voting member of the council, then they will expect me to return to France and take my place on the council."
"France?" I said.
He laughed, and it slithered over the phone like a swarm touch. "It is not leaving our fair city that frightens me, ma petite. It is holding the seat. If the triumvirate were fully formed perhaps, perhaps, it would he possible to appear frightening enough to force would-be challengers to choose another."
"Are you saying without the fourth mark, the triumvirate is useless?"
Silence on his end, so long and deep, that I said, "Jean-Claude?"
"I am here, ma petite. The fourth mark will not make our triumvirate functional unless Richard heals himself."
"You mean his hatred of me."
"His jealousy of us together, yes, that is a problem, but not the only one, ma petite. His loathing of his beast is so intense, it weakens him. Weaken any link in a chain and it may snap."
"Did you know about what's been happening in the pack?"
"Richard has forbidden any of the wolves to tell me anything without his permission. I believe you are under the same restriction. It is, and I quote, none of my damn business."
"I'm surprised you didn't force Jason to tell you anyway."
"Have you seen Richard within the last month?"
"No."
"I have. He is on the edge, ma petite. I did not need Jason to tell me. It is plain for all to see. His torment will be viewed as a weakness among the pack. Weakness attracts them like blood to a... vampire. They will challenge him eventually."
"I've had two lukoi tell me that they don't think Richard will fight. That he'll just let someone kill him. Do you believe that?"
"Suicide by simply not defending himself hard enough. Hmm." He was quiet again, then finally said, "I had not thought of such a thing. If I had, ma petite, I would have told you of my concerns. I do not wish Richard harm."
"Yeah, right."
"He is our third, ma petite. It is in my own interest to make him healthy and happy. I need him."
"Like you need me," I said.
He laughed low and deep, and even over the phone I could feel it tickling along my body. "Oui, ma petite. Richard must not die. But to cure his despair he must embrace his beast. I cannot help him do that. I have tried and he will not hear me. He takes what limited help he needs to keep himself from invading your dreams, or you his, but beyond that he wants nothing from us. Nothing he will admit."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.
"It is your tender mercies that he needs, ma petite, not mine."
"Tender mercies?" I made it a question.
"If you could accept his beast, completely, it would mean something to him."
"I can't, Jean-Claude. I wish I could, but I can't. I saw him eat Marcus. I..." I'd only seen Richard shapeshift once. He'd been injured from the fight with Marcus. He half-collapsed with me underneath him. I'd been trapped under him while fur flowed, muscles formed and shifted, bones broke and reknit. Clear liquid had gushed from his power, pouring over me in a near-scalding wave. Maybe if I'd just been watching, it would have been different. But trapped under him, feeling his body do things on top of me that bodies were never meant to do... it had been too much. If Richard had handled it differently, if I had seen him change in a nice calm way from a distance, then built up to the whole ride, maybe, maybe. But it had happened, and I couldn't forget it. I could still close my eyes and see his manwolf shape gulping down a red, bloody piece of Marcus.