"I am physically the same, ma petite."
I shook my head. "Maybe young isn't the word I want. Maybe naive."
He smiled. "By the time this painting was made, ma petite, naive was not a word that described me, either."
"Fine, have it your way." I looked at him, studying his face. He was beautiful, but there was something in his eyes that wasn't in the painting, some level of sorrow or terror. Something I had no word for, but it was there just the same. A vampire may not wrinkle up, but living a couple of centuries leaves its mark. Even if it's only a shadow in the eyes, a tightness around the mouth.
I turned to Jason, who was still slumped in the chair. "Does he give these little history lessons often?"
"Only to you," Jason said.
"You never ask questions?" I asked.
"I'm just his pet. You don't answer questions for your pet."
"And that doesn't bother you?"
Jason smiled. "Why should I care about the painting? The woman's dead, so I can't have sex with her. Why should I care?"
I felt Jean-Claude move past me, but couldn't follow with my eyes. His hand was a blur. The chair clattered to the floor, spilling Jason with it. Blood showed at his mouth.
"Never speak of her again in such a manner."
Jason touched the back of his hand to his mouth and came away with blood. "Whatever you say." He licked the blood off his hand with long slow movements of his tongue.
I stared from one to the other of them. "You are both crazy."
"Not crazy, ma petite, merely not human."
"Being a vampire doesn't give you the right to treat people like that. Richard doesn't beat people up."
"Which is why he will never hold the pack."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Even if he swallows his high morals and kills Marcus, he will not be cruel enough to frighten the rest. He will be challenged again and again. Unless he begins slaughtering people, he will eventually die."
"Slapping people around won't keep him alive," I said.
"It would help. Torture works well, but I doubt that Richard would have the stomach for it."
"I couldn't stomach it."
"But you litter the ground with bodies, ma petite. Killing is the best deterrent of all."
I was too tired to be having this conversation. "It's 4:30 in the morning. I want to go to bed."
Jean-Claude smiled. "Why, ma petite, you are not usually so eager."
"You know what I mean," I said.
Jean-Claude took a gliding step towards me. He didn't touch me, but he stood very close and looked at me. "I know exactly what you mean, ma petite."
That brought heat in a rush up my neck. The words were innocent. He made them sound intimate, obscene.
Jason righted the chair and stood, licking the blood off the corner of his mouth. He said nothing, merely watched us like a well-trained dog, seen and not heard.
Jean-Claude took a step back. I felt him move, but couldn't follow it with my eyes. There had been a time only months ago that it would have looked like magic, like he'd just appeared a few feet away.