Crimson Death Page 70
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Some of us think you spend too much time with the emotions of your lovers, when all you need is the sex, but we did not understand that you feed on love and not just lust. Love strengthens you, literally.”
“I think love strengthens everyone, literally,” I said.
“Oh no, my queen, love can be a terrible weakness.”
“Or a great strength,” I said.
Pierette did her floor-gazing routine again as she thought. “Perhaps it is both.”
Sin leaned over closer to me. “There is nothing stronger than love.” He whispered it as he leaned further, and I came up on tiptoe to meet his lips with mine. Nathaniel closed the small space that my going up on tiptoe had made in our hug so that he was holding us even tighter while we kissed. He kissed my shoulder while Sin kissed my lips. It reminded me of all the times they’d shared me between them, and the memory was enough to make me shiver between them.
Sin drew back from the kiss enough to say, “Keep doing that and I’ll forget everything but you.”
Nathaniel bit gently on my shoulder, which made me not just shiver but writhe a little bit.
“No fair,” I said.
“Very fair,” Nathaniel said.
“Unless we can actually have sex, no fair,” Sin said.
I don’t know what we would have said next, because energy rolled off Pierette like the first rush of cold air in front of a rainstorm. We all turned and looked at her. Her eyes weren’t brown anymore; they were a rich gray like rain clouds just before the sky opens up and tries to drown the world.
Nathaniel tensed beside me, and I felt Damian wake on the bed in our room. His moment of disoriented panic was enough to let me know that he didn’t remember last night either. I shut down the link between us enough not to get distracted by his emotions, because we had other problems right in front of us.
“Well, what a pretty sight to wake up to.” Pierette’s mouth said the words, but the intonation and pitch were not hers. All the rest of the vampires were awake for the night.
“Pierrot,” I said.
The gray eyes fluttered almost like Pierette would faint, though her body stayed rock steady. “My queen, I see that much has happened while I slept.”
“It’s been a busy day,” I said.
“So Pierette has told me.” It wasn’t just the voice; even her facial expressions were no longer hers. It was like she’d become some living ventriloquist’s dummy. I’d seen vampires do similar things before, but it never ceased to creep me out.
The men had opened up our hug enough so we could move if we had to, which meant they saw this new mix of personalities as more of a threat than Pierette on her own. Good that we all agreed.
“Jean-Claude has treated us as if we were like you, some sort of metaphysical policemen. He has chosen to isolate and worry only for his adopted country and allow the rest of the world to go to hell.”
“The European vampires said they’d go to war against us if we tried to rule all the vampires as the old vampire council had done, but you know that. You and Pierette helped bring their messages to us.”
“We did, my queen, but I never dreamed Jean-Claude would agree to their blackmail. He had us, the Harlequin, at his beck and call. At his command, we would have chosen targets and rid him of his enemies. He could have ruled the world as king of all vampires. It is what we had done for the old council for centuries.”
“Jean-Claude didn’t want his reign to begin with more bloodshed,” I said.
“But there has been bloodshed, Anita, so many vampires killed across the world in a fight to rule their small piece of it. We would have killed with precision like a surgeon cuts away diseased flesh to make the body whole again. Instead he has let the disease spread across the world.”
“What disease?” Sin asked.
“Freedom, my prince. Vampires cannot be allowed this much freedom unless he wishes anarchy to rule the rest of the world while he sits comfortably in America.”
“If you had foreseen what is happening in Ireland, you’d have used that as a bargaining point when we were discussing how to handle the new council setup,” I said.
“I did not see this particular problem, because I thought if anyone could keep her kingdom safe it would have been M’Lady. That she has lost control and power is most worrisome.”
“Because she was a fountain of blood, her own bloodline,” I said.
“Exactement, Ma Reine.” He pronounced the last word like the bird, wren, though I knew it didn’t sound exactly—oh I mean exactement—the same. I didn’t even have to borrow Jean-Claude’s memories to know that Pierrot had said, Exactly, my queen.
“Do you really think the Wicked Bitch of Ireland has been weakened by Marmee Noir’s death?”
“I can think of no other explanation,” he said, though it was still Pierette’s body doing the talking.
“There are always other explanations,” I said.
“But this is the most likely.”
“Pierette thought that Fey magic finally fading in Ireland might do it.”
He shook her head. “Non, my queen. It is the death of our creator that has spread chaos over Ireland.”
“You don’t know that for certain.”
“If you are going to Ireland, you will need us.”
“We’ll see.”
“No one knows the country and the vampires in it better than we do.”
“I can think of someone who knows the vampires better than either of you.”
Pierette’s delicate face made an expression I’d only seen on Pierrot’s face before; he was disgusted at the thought. “You cannot compare the aid you would gain from Damian to what we could do for you.”
“He is my vampire servant and the third of my triumvirate of power; that makes him pretty helpful.”
“Pierette has already made our views clear on the uselessness of your triumvirate. Our weapons skills alone would be of more help than either Damian or Nathaniel.”
“I don’t know about that,” Nathaniel said, but his voice didn’t sound right, and when I turned to look at him his eyes weren’t lavender anymore. They were green.
21
NATHANIEL’S EYES HAD changed back to lavender by the time we got to our bedroom and the freshly showered, though very pissed-off vampire. He was pacing the room, but it was a little hard for Nathaniel and me to take the anger seriously since he was wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He’d forget and try to gesture angrily with both hands, the towel would start to slip and he’d have to grab it to save his modesty, and whatever outrage he’d managed to work up was lost on both of us.