I opened my mouth, then closed it. Truth was that I would rather not have gone quite this public, because I guess I didn't really believe I could choose Jean-Claude. He was a vampire, a dead man. In that one moment I realized how prejudiced I still was. He was good enough to date. Good enough to hold hands with, and maybe a bit more. But there was a limit. Always a point where I knew I'd say stop because he was a corpse. A beautiful corpse, but a vampire is a vampire. You couldn't really fall in love with one. You couldn't have sex with one. No way. I'd broken Jean-Claude's one rule for dating both of the boys. I'd never really given Jean-Claude the same chance that I'd given Richard. And now, with national television coverage, the bat was out of the bag. It embarrassed me that anyone would think I might actually date him. That I might actually care for a walking dead man.
The anger washed away in the knowledge that I was a hypocrite. I don't know how much of it showed on my face, but Jean-Claude cocked his head to one side. "Thoughts are flying across your face, ma petite, but what thoughts?"
I stared up at him. "I think I owe you an apology."
His eyes widened. "Then this is a truly historic occasion. What are you apologizing for?"
I wasn't sure how to put it into words. "You're right; I'm wrong."
He put his fingers to his chest, face wide with mock surprise. "You admit that you have treated me like some guilty secret, hidden away. Exiled from your true feelings while you cuddle with Richard and his living flesh."
I frowned at him. "Enough already. See if I ever give you another apology for anything."
"A dance would suffice," he said.
"I don't dance. You know that."
"This is the grand opening of my dance club, ma petite. You are my date. Are you truly going to deny me even one dance?"
Put that way it sounded petty. "One dance."
He smiled, wicked, enticing. The smile that the serpent must have given Eve. "I think we will dance well together, ma petite."
"I doubt it."
"I think we would do many things well together."
"Give you one dance and you want the whole package. Pushy bastard."
He gave a small bow, smiling, eyes shining.
A female vamp strode towards us. She was inches taller than Jean-Claude, which made her at least six feet tall. She was blond and blue-eyed, and if she'd looked any more Nordic, she'd have been a poster girl for the master race. She was wearing a violet blue body suit with strategic holes cut out. The body that showed through was broad-shouldered, muscular, and still managed to be full-breasted. Leather boots in the exact same color rode her long, muscular legs all the way up to her thighs.
"Anita Blake, this is Liv."
"Let me guess," I said. "Jean-Claude chose the outfit."
Liv looked at me from her considerable height as if simply being tall made her intimidating. When I didn't flinch, she smiled. "He is the boss."
I stared up at her. I almost asked why. I could feel her age pressing down on me like a weight. She was six hundred years old. Twice Jean-Claude's age or more. So why wasn't she the boss? I could feel the answer along my skin like a cool wind. Not enough power. She wasn't a master vampire, and no amount of age would change that.
"What are you staring at?" she asked. She looked me right in the eyes and shook her head. "She really is immune to our gaze."
"To your gaze," I said.
She put her hands on her hips. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you don't have enough juice to do me," I said.
She took a step forward. "How about I just pick you up and squeeze some juice out of you?"
Here was where not having a gun in a holster was going to get me killed. I could get one of the knives out, but unless I was willing for her to come very close, it wouldn't help. I could slip my hand in the purse; most people didn't expect a gun to come out of a purse so small. Of course, if Liv caught me going for the gun, she could get to me before I could draw it. With a holster I'd have tried it. From a purse hanging from a strap, I didn't think so. Vampires are just that fast.
"How many vampire kills do you have now, Anita?" Jean-Claude asked.
The question surprised me, and my answer surprised me more. "Over twenty legal kills."
"How many kills altogether, ma petite?"