He smiled at me, but not like he was happy. "I remember what it was like with . . . Julianna." He said her name in a whisper that still carried on the cool autumn air. It startled me a little to hear him say her name, he avoided her name if he could; saying it, or hearing it.
"I'm Jean-Claude's human servant, but I don't feel an overwhelming need to touch him every time I see him."
He looked up at me. "You don't."
I started to say, no,then had to think about it. I did want to touch Jean-Claude when I saw him, but that was the sex, the rush of being a relatively new couple, wasn't it?
I frowned and concentrated on something else. "Does Jean-Claude feel the same need to touch me?" Like I feel for Damianwent unsaid.
"Almost certainly," Asher said.
I frowned harder. "He hides it well."
"Because to expose such raw need to you would have made you run away." He touched my elbow, a light touch. "I did not mean to give away uncomfortable secrets, but we must show a united front for . . . her, this night. When you touch Damian you gain power, just as when Jean-Claude touches you and Richard, he gains power."
I took a deep breath, let it out slowly. One thing I was almost certain of was that Richard wouldn't be here tonight. He hadn't come near the Circus of the Damned since we broke up. It weakened us that one-third of our triumvirate was missing. He'd promised to come to the Circus in three months' time to greet Musette, but he wouldn't come early. I would bet my life on that, and maybe I was. Who the hell knew what was inside the Circus waiting for us?
I glanced from one vampire to the other, then shook my head. We needed to get inside, and I needed to stop being squeamish. Asher needed it, too, but I couldn't control what he did, only what I did.
I touched Damian's arm, and power flared between us like a breath of wind. I slid my hand down the smoothness of his arm, using everything but the tips of my fingers. The tips of my fingers hurt when they brushed things too solidly. His breath came out in a shudder, as I slid my left hand into his right, squeezing my fingers 'round his. As long as I didn't squeeze too hard, my bandaged fingers were fine. It felt so right to touch him. It was hard to explain, because touching him didn't make me think of sex. It wasn't like touching Jean-Claude, or Micah, or even Richard. Richard and I were feuding, but he could still affect me just by being present. When I could be in the same room with Richard and not feel my body tighten, then I'd know that I was truly out of love with him.
"I don't mind that Micah sent backup."
I felt his hand, his arm, his body give up the tension I hadn't even realized he was holding. He smiled and squeezed my hand back. "Good."
"You've mellowed," a voice behind us called. We all whirled, to find Jason walking towards us over the pavement. He was grinning, proud he'd startled us, I think.
"Damn quiet for a werewolf," I said.
He was wearing jeans, jogging shoes, and a short leather jacket. Jason was as American as I was, we liked the casual look. His blond hair was still cut short like a young executive. It made him look older, more grown-up. Somehow without the hair to trail around his face, you noticed his eyes more, blue, the color of an innocent spring sky. The color never matched the twinkle in his eye.
"A little warm for a leather jacket," I said.
He unzipped the jacket in one smooth motion, and flashed his bare chest and stomach, still walking towards us, never missing a beat. Sometimes I forgot that Jason's day job was as a stripper at Guilty Pleasures, one of Jean-Claude's other clubs. Then there were moments like this when he managed to remind me.
"I didn't have time to dress when Jean-Claude sent me out to wait for you."
"Why the hurry?" I asked.
"Musette has offered to share her pomme de sangwith Jean-Claude, if he'll share me with her."
Pomme de sangmeant literally, apple of blood, it was slang with the vamps for someone that was much more than simply a blood donor. Jean-Claude had once described it as a beloved mistress, except instead of sex you got blood. A kept woman, or in Jason's case, a kept man.
"I thought it was a faux pas to ask to feed on someone else's pomme de sang," I said.
"It can also be a great courtesy and honor," Asher said. "You may trust Musette to turn custom into torment if she is able."
"So she's not offering up her pomme de sangto honor Jean-Claude, she's doing it because she knows he won't want to share Jason?"
"Oui," Asher said.
"Great, just great. What other little vampire customs are going to come up and bite us on the butt tonight?"
He smiled and raised my hand to his lips for a quick, chaste kiss. "Many, I would think, ma cherie,very many." He looked at Jason. "In truth, I am amazed that Musette allowed you to leave her presence without sharing blood."
Jason's grin faded. "Her pomme de sangis illegal in this country, so Jean-Claude had to decline."
"Illegal," I said, "in what way?"