39

THE DRAPES HAD been stripped around the living room so that the carpeted area looked like an island in the middle of the bare rock walls and the uncarpeted floor that led farther into the underground. The light and warmth of the area looked like a stage set surrounded by all that naked rock.

I must have hesitated, because Nathaniel's hand tightened on mine and he kept us moving forward. I glanced at him and found a welcoming smile just appearing on his face, but then his day job as a stripper had taught him how to smile and be charming when he really didn't feel like it. None of my jobs taught me how to be charming, strangely.

Nicky and Dino were at our backs. Stephen and Gregory had stayed back in the kitchen, but with both Nicky's and Dino's shoulders behind us there really wasn't room for anyone else.

Micah came to us. It almost looked odd to see him in nice black jeans and a T-shirt. He wore suits for work and relaxed in faded jeans and colorful T-shirts. He really wasn't that fond of black outside his suits. The black shirt tucked into the black jeans with a black belt and silver buckle made his waist look tiny. In fact the whole outfit emphasized how almost delicate he was, especially for a man. The saving grace was the way the tight T-shirt showed off the muscled upper body, but it looked all done in miniature, especially after just exercising with so many of the guards. Most of the time I didn't think of Micah as that small, because we were the same size, but as he walked toward us, smiling, hand out, his long, dark brown hair curling free past his shoulders, framing that triangular face, with those startling eyes, he was simply beautiful in a very girl way. I understood why he wore suits most of the time; it helped make him look like a grown-up. The same for keeping his hair back from his face. Why had he picked now to dress so unlike himself ? It being Micah, I knew he'd have a reason.

He kissed me, light but good. It made me smile. He smiled back, and with his hand still on my arm he leaned up and kissed Nathaniel. He stiffened for a second, startled I think, because other than the kiss at the dance recital they didn't kiss in public. But Nathaniel recovered almost instantly and kissed him back, even putting a hand on the other man's shoulder. Maybe Micah had just gotten more comfortable with it, but I was betting that like the clothes he had done it on purpose. I knew that later I'd ask and he'd explain, but not now, not in front of company. Since they were most likely the very people he was doing it all for.

He took Nathaniel's hand to lead us forward, because to take mine he'd have had to take my gun hand. I'd taught them both that I didn't like that. Now I would have preferred his hand in mine rather than the gun hand free, because what was waiting for us wasn't a matter of guns.

Micah led us toward the carpeted area, but I couldn't resist looking toward the corner where Haven had died. I noticed Nathaniel looking at the floor where he and Noel had lain. As far as I could tell the blood was cleaned up, though as we passed the place where Noel had bled out I caught the sharp scent of bleach. I knew if I could smell it that all the wereanimals would smell it more. Our guests would know there was blood underneath all that bleach, but there was nothing we could do about it.

Jake stood on the far side of the room with Claudia beside him. He'd already adopted the black T-shirt that was the unofficial uniform for our guards. Claudia looked like her normal self, with her muscles smooth and her hair in a tight braid. If I hadn't seen her shot I wouldn't have known that she'd even been hurt. The fact that she'd healed this completely this fast said just how powerful a wererat she was. She gave a small nod at me, and I gave one back.

Wicked and Truth were near the fireplace because the loveseat had been put close to it at an angle, and that's where Jean-Claude was sitting. Unlike Micah, he'd gone for his normal look: tight pants and tall black boots, both made of intricately sewn leather, so that his lower body looked like it was bound in thin leather strips, and where the boots left off and the pants began was hard to see. His white shirt had a lacy front tucked into all that leather. His jacket was black and velvet, cut short enough that it hit barely at his waist. He'd pinned the lace in place with the antique cameo pin that I'd gotten him for one of the first Christmases we exchanged gifts. Asher was beside him on the loveseat with his unbound golden hair spilled along one side of his face so it hid the scars. Asher had dressed to match  Jean-Claude, so he was also in leather pants and boots, but his were smooth leather, so smooth that it looked painted on. His white shirt was a tuxedo shirt with the collar unfastened at the neck, but beyond that it fit his upper body tight. To my eyes you could see the difference in skin from one side of his chest to the other as he rose from the loveseat and glided toward us, smiling. But I knew that smile; it wasn't a real one. It was a smile that could either be happy or turn to harsh cruelty. There was something about our guests that Asher didn't like.

The big cinnamon-brown wolf trotted at Asher's side. I had a moment of not knowing how to greet Richard in wolf form. Asher took my free hand, my gun hand, and raised it for a kiss, but as he rose from it he let me see his eyes. They were unhappy. I wanted to ask what was wrong, but since Asher and I weren't able to talk mind-to-mind I'd have to wait for privacy.

The big wolf bumped my leg with his head. I wasn't ready for it, and it staggered me a little. I reached both hands down to pet him. He stared up at me with wolf eyes, but the look in them was human. He wasn't happy, either. What the hell could have put Asher and Richard on the same side of unhappy? Other than both being pissy, they didn't have a lot of the same issue buttons.

I had to fight the urge to ask him, What's wrong, boy? like he was Lassie or something. Asher offered me his arm and I slid my hand through his; if I had to go for a gun I was screwed, but with Wicked, Truth, and Claudia in the room, if my gun was the one that saved us, then things would have gone too wrong for one more gun to make a difference. The wolf walked ahead of us and lay down beside the loveseat at Jean-Claude's side like a good dog.

There were two men I didn't know in the overstuffed chairs, which had been moved to the side of the room where the loveseat normally sat. That put Jake and Claudia at their backs. They had to be the gold tigers.

Since I still had Nathaniel's hand and he still had Micah by the hand, Asher led us all to Jean-Claude, as if the tigers weren't sitting there. Nathaniel took some cue because he let go of my hand and Asher twirled me onto the loveseat beside Jean-Claude. Asher kissed my hand again and moved away, as Micah sat down on the other side of me. Maybe that was what was upsetting Asher, that he had to move off the loveseat. Maybe, but his and Richard's mood had made me tense, looking for something wrong. There better really be something wrong and not just the two of them  being pissy, because for my tension level to rise this way there better be a damn good reason. I didn't have the energy to spare for anything but good reasons.

Jean-Claude put an arm across my shoulders, drawing me into the curve of his body. His voice whispered through my mind, spreading shivers down my skin. Mind-to-mind communication wasn't always this titillating with Jean-Claude. What was up?

"Ma petite, these tigers are not like the others. I do not know what is different about them, but something."

I mind-talked back to him. "You're afraid of them."

"Tiger is not my, or Asher's, animal to call. Perhaps you can tell us what is wrong with them."

Micah sat down on the other side of me, putting his hand on my thigh so he wasn't holding my gun hand. Nathaniel sat down at our feet with only Jean-Claude's legs between him and Richard's wolf.

Dino and Nicky took up posts on the other side of the two new men so that they were flanked by four of our guards, though honestly I wasn't sure Jake would help us against them if the shit hit the fan. He could pretend not to care about them, but it was a lie.

I looked at the two men and they looked back at me. They were both tall and athletic looking. They had that sense of energy contained that some of the wereanimals had even at rest, as if the difference between sitting quietly and furious action was only a thought.

One had curly yellow hair that fell around his ears, longish, but not long by my standards. The same was true of the other one, though his longish hair was straight with only the slightest wave to it, as if it got longer the ends would flip under or up. They both had strong faces; one was a little more triangular through the jaw, and the other more square, but they looked alike, down to the arrogant expression on their handsome faces. They looked at me with pale eyes. Curly Hair with his soft triangular chin had the palest brown eyes I'd ever seen, until I wanted to give it another color, but had no word for it. Brown eyes shouldn't look pale in a golden-tanned face, but these did. The other's eyes were pale blue and gold, or brown, as if blue eyes could be hazel. His skin held a soft gold tan, too, until the longer I looked at it the more I wasn't sure it was a tan at all, but just their skin color. But no one, not even clan tigers, had skin that was pale gold, almost yellow, as if their skin were warmed by the sun even inside.

"I'm Anita," I said, finally.

Straight Hair with his blue-hazel eyes said, "Mephistopheles."

I blinked at him. "What do you go by?" I asked.

"Mephistopheles," he said.

I looked at him, waiting for him to crack a smile, but he just gave me serious arrogant handsome. There was no smile coming.

I turned to Curly Hair. "And you are?"

"Pride," he said.

I frowned at them. "Come again."

"My name is Pride," he said. His voice was a touch apologetic as if he weren't too happy with it, either. I wondered if Mephistopheles was so adamant about his name because only a bold front would make it work at all.

I wanted to ask if their mother hadn't liked them, but resisted. I turned to Micah. I gave him a look that I hoped said clearly, These are the best of the five?

"One of the other gold tigers is named Envy," Micah said, face as empty as he could make it.

I wanted to ask if he was joking, but knew he wasn't. "Elementary school must have been interesting," I said, finally.

"We were homeschooled," Pride said.

"I'll just bet you were," I said.

Jean-Claude breathed through my mind, "Do you sense it?"

I sensed they were arrogant and way too full of themselves, but suspected that part of it was bravado. Bravado always hides fear, or at least uncertainty.

"Sense what?" I asked him.

"Something," he said.

Out loud I said, "You were homeschooled."

"I just said so," Pride said.

"Okeydoke, have you ever been this far from home?"

They looked at each other, and Mephistopheles glanced back at Jake and then quickly back at me. "No," Pride said.

"Why does that matter?" Mephistopheles said, and his arrogance went up a notch to almost angry. He was hiding it well, but he wasn't comfortable.

"Just trying to get a feel for things," I said.

"Your Nimir-Raj picked us for you," Pride said.

"And I'm going to be talking to him about that later," I said.

Micah leaned in and whispered a bare brush of air against my ear. "The others were more scared, or angrier."

I put my hand on his thigh through the jeans. I wanted both to comfort him and be comforted, and touch did that. I didn't like these men. I sure as hell didn't want to keep them permanently.

Nathaniel leaned back against both our legs, letting his hand begin to play over my calf inside the knee-high boots he'd chosen for me. He didn't like them, either.

Asher moved to stand behind Jean-Claude, putting his hand on the other man's shoulder. I knew why Asher wasn't happy with them, and why Richard wasn't, either. None of us were happy with them. Jake and I would soooo be having words later.

"Do you guys want to stay with us?" I asked.

They looked at each other again, and Mephistopheles caught himself before he could look at Jake again. Pride said, "We were told we don't have a choice."

"I'm a big believer in choices," I said.

"If we leave here, they'll kill us," Mephistopheles said.

"If you want to stay here until it's safe to leave, that's one thing. But what I want to know is, do the two of you want to stay here with us and be our tigers?"

"What will you do if we say we don't?" Pride asked.

"I really don't like to force people to do anything."

They looked at each other again. "That's not what we heard," Mephistopheles said.

"What did you hear?" I asked, and that first thread of anger trickled into the words.

"Didn't you make him your Bride?" Pride asked. He nodded toward Nicky.

"Yes."

"That's force," he said.

I couldn't argue with that, and I didn't know them well enough to explain that I'd done it to save the two men sitting next to me, that Nicky had kidnapped me and I'd used the weapons I had at hand. I couldn't explain myself to them, so what could I say?

"Yes, it is."

"But you don't want to force us?" he asked.

"Let's say I'm not wanting to add to my list of sins today."

They frowned at me. "Sins?" Mephistopheles said. "What does that mean?"

"It means that taking someone's free will away forever seems sort of evil to me. I'd rather not do it again."

"What would cause you to do it again?" Pride asked.

"Self-preservation, or protecting the people I love."

He looked past me to Nicky. "Did you threaten Anita and her people?"

"Yes," Nicky said.

"How?"

"Can I tell them?" he asked.

I thought about it and then said, "Sure."

"I helped kidnap Anita, and we threatened to kill Micah and Nathaniel and Jason, who's Anita's wolf to call. We took her weapons, we used magic to make sure she couldn't call for help, and we injured her. She used the powers she had left to make me willing to do anything to protect her and the men she loved."

"You don't blame her?" Mephistopheles asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't think I can."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I don't think I can blame Anita for anything. I just want to please her."

Pride looked back at me. "So he really is a Bride in the full sense of the term."

I shrugged. "Apparently."

"But you don't like it. It bothers you that he has no free will," he said.

"Yes."

"Why?" he asked.

"Wouldn't it bother you?" I asked.

He just shook his head, and his brother did the same. Though maybe I was jumping the gun on that one. "Are you brothers?"

"Cousins," Pride said.

"There's a strong family resemblance," I said.

"Not as strong as with Wicked and Truth," he said.

"True," I said. I looked at Jake. "They don't want to be charming and neither do I, so how do we do this?"

"Ask us?" Pride said.

I turned back to him. "Fine, you don't like me and I don't like you, apparently, but I'm supposed to find out how my inner tiger feels about yours, so how do you want to do this?"

"Jake said you were blunt."

"This isn't blunt, Pride, not yet."

He looked at me and there was something in his eyes now, interest maybe. "I look forward to seeing blunt, then."

I smiled, couldn't help it. "You say that now."

Voices sounded from farther down the hallway. Damian and Cardinal came in with her on his arm, very much the happy couple. She was talking excitedly with another woman who could only be the other weretiger. The family resemblance was too great for anything else. She had long yellow and white curls that spilled around her shoulders. Her eyes were the same blue and gold of Mephistopheles' eyes. She was tall and curvy, and gave off a roll of energy when she saw me sitting there. There was emotion to it; it was fear. Why was she afraid of me?

"The rooms are nice," she said, but even her voice held a thread of nervousness.

Jean-Claude said, "We're glad you like them. Anita, this is Envy."

"Envy?" I made it a question.

"Yes," he said.

"Pride and Envy, two of the deadly sins," I said.

"Yes," Pride said.

"Is she your sister?"

"Cousin."

"The seven deadly sins and Mephistopheles. What's the theme for your clan names, selling your soul to the devil?"

"Dr. Faustus by Christopher Marlowe," Pride said. "We're all named after characters in the play."

"Someone must be a serious Marlowe fan," I said.

"Jake's master is," Pride said.

I glanced at Jake. "It couldn't be Shakespeare?"

"He prefers Marlowe," Jake said.

"Are you making fun of our names?" Mephistopheles asked, with that arrogant pout to his lower lip.

"Trying hard not to, actually."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"Fine, what do your girlfriends call you? I mean they can't call out  Mephistopheles in the heat of passion, it's too long. You've got to have a nickname."

He actually blushed.

I had an awful idea. I looked at Jake. "Please tell me that they aren't virgins."

"That's a question for them, Anita."

I took a deep breath, let it out, and turned to the men. "Well?"

"We're not," Pride said.

I looked at Mephistopheles, who didn't seem to want to make eye contact. "He seems awfully uncomfortable."

Mephistopheles stood up, and his power flowed through the room like someone had just turned on a hot bath. "We're trained to meet the needs of every bloodline, and that includes Belle Morte."

I had to think about it for a moment, then said, "So, trained in sex for Belle Morte. Combat for the Dragon. What did you train in for the Master of Beasts, and the Lover of Death?"

"The Lover of Death is combat, and the Master of Beasts is weak," Pride said. "We knew no one in his line would ever come for us. The Earthmover never made enough vampires to be a bloodline that would come for us. The Traveller's line is all but dead. He can't make more of his own bloodline unless he uses his original body, and he won't do that. He won't risk it being destroyed."

"What about the Mother of All Darkness?" I asked.

"She's not a bloodline," Pride said. "She's the enemy."

"So really you guys have been training your whole lives for just three bloodlines: the Dragon, the Lover of Death, and Belle Morte."

All three of them agreed with that.

"Which brings us back to our original problem: How do I find out if my tiger likes your tiger?"

Pride, who was the only one still sitting down, said, "A kiss may do it, but sex may be necessary." He said it as if he were talking about the difference between getting an inoculation or having to have surgery.

"Since you seem as thrilled with the whole idea as I am, why don't we just kiss and call it done."

Mephistopheles said, "You don't want to have sex with us?"

This was a tricky question from a man. I tried to answer it carefully. "You're both handsome. It's nothing personal, but you just seem to come with a lot of baggage and I don't want to mess with it."

"Baggage, what does that mean?"

"You're angry just from this. I have my own anger issues; I don't need yours."

He balled his hands into fists, and his power went up a level. Something moved inside me, a golden shadow among tall, dark trees. I caught a glimpse of the golden tiger, but she wasn't trying to walk down that long road. She was hiding in the shadows, her skin cream with stripes of yellow-gold.

Pride stood then and sniffed the air. "You don't smell like vampire."

"She smells like us," Envy said from the doorway. She took a few steps onto the white rug.

Mephistopheles came to stand in front of me. I thought he was going to try to kiss me, but his hand darted out in a movement so fast I wasn't sure what he was going for, but it wasn't a kiss. My gun was just suddenly in my hand and pressed against his chest. My pulse was trying to push out the side of my throat. "Don't move," I whispered, afraid to shout because my finger was on the trigger.

"No human, and few vampires, would have been able to see I was going for their gun, let alone gotten to it in time to turn it on me." He sounded impressed with me.

"If you have a death wish, you're messing with the right girl," I said.

"We're supposed to make sure whatever vampire tries to possess us is worthy of us." He was a little afraid, but not really. He didn't believe I'd shoot him. I'd passed his test.

"Are there any more tests that I should know about so I don't accidentally kill you?" I asked.

"Don't you want us to prove that we're worthy of you, too?" he asked.

"Hold that thought." I backed away from him, carefully, and began to take off my weapons. "If we end up killing these guys, let's not make it because we had a cultural misunderstanding."

"What do you mean?" Micah asked.

"He really believes I want him to prove he's a warrior. He really believes that I need to prove myself worthy of him. It's like they've been raised in a culture that I don't understand." I divided my weapons up between Micah and Nathaniel. When I was safe, or at least weaponless, I went back to the two men.

"Are we done with the warrior stuff ?"

They looked at each other. Pride said, "If you were male we'd probably  do hand-to-hand, but we outweigh you by a hundred pounds or more, and we're at least seven inches taller. Hand to hand, you won't win. It's not about training. It's about size, and you can't help that you're small. We won't hold that against you."

Again, I felt like I was missing something. "Glad to hear it, so who's up first?"

"Up first?"

"Kiss, a kiss, who's first?" I asked.

They looked at each other again. "When we go to the human clubs, the women are a little more eager," Pride said.

I pointed behind me. "They're my guys. It's not that you aren't cute, but when this is already waiting at home it makes a girl a little less eager to add new men."

They did that look again. Pride nodded. "That seems reasonable."

Reasonable, that was an interesting choice of words, but I let it go. "Fine, let's reason together. Who kisses me first?"

"See who smells the best," Pride said.

It was a perfectly reasonable wereanimal thing to say. Since I had no better suggestions to offer, it was as good as any other. I expected them to offer their wrists for me to smell, but they both slipped their shirts over their heads. I was suddenly looking at their bare chests from inches away. My head came to just below Pride's pectoral muscles, and a little lower down the ribs on Mephistopheles. Either way I was suddenly staring at a lot of muscled half-nakedness. You'd think I'd get used to that sort of thing.

They both moved in closer. I put a hand on both their stomachs to keep them from sandwiching me. It was a mistake to touch them. But it was like so many mistakes; it looks harmless until you do it, and then it's too late.