I LOOKED FOR NATHANIEL in the mass of bodyguards as we crammed through the back door of the Circus of the Damned. Jean-Claude and I ended up shoved against the stacked boxes on the far side of the room. Jean-Claude squeezed my hand, which made me look up at him. “Nathaniel is not here.”
“Was I thinking that loudly?”
“Yes,” Richard and Nicky both answered from closer to the outer door. I looked toward them, but it was just a sea of bodyguards with Ethan’s back my closest view. Wicked and Truth were on either side of Jean-Claude. I realized it was Jake still in his exercise clothes standing beside him. I’d expected him to stay near Richard, being a werewolf and all. I wasn’t complaining, just noticing.
Jean-Claude put his arm over my shoulder, drawing me into the circle of his body and making us take up less room in the crush of people. “Oui, ma petite, but I believe he has gone ahead to prepare food for you and Richard, since I have taken so much energy from you both.”
I wrapped my arms around him, enjoying the feel of him underneath the silk of the robe. I laid my head against his chest, and his heart beat against me. It was slower than any human could survive, slow and thick like it had to wake up to beat, but it was there. I’d gotten so used to his heart not beating that this was startling, the way it had been at the beginning when I realized I missed the beat of his heart.
Wicked yelled, “Whoever is nearer the door, open it so we can move our principals downstairs.”
“We don’t take orders from any vampire but Jean-Claude.” It was the Demolition Man again, sounding sullen and unhelpful.
“Do as you are told,” Jean-Claude said.
“I’ll do what you tell me to do, not Wicked.”
“Are you seriously going to make Jean-Claude repeat what Wicked said, because you have some kind of beef with him?” I asked.
“Who’s next to the door besides Demo?” Jake didn’t yell, but his voice had that tone that didn’t need to yell to tell someone they were in trouble. I didn’t recognize the man’s voice that said, “I am, sir.”
“Then open the door so we can move to a more secure location,” Jake said, still in that unfriendly, not-yelling voice.
“I can open it,” Demo said.
“You had your chance,” Jake said.
The door opened and the nearest guards began to filter through while Demo tried to argue with someone near him. Jean-Claude and I kept our arms around each other as we moved with Wicked in front of us, Ethan beside us, and Jake and Truth behind us. The only thing that would have made me feel safer was if Nicky could have been beside us. I took one arm from around Jean-Claude’s waist, so I’d have one empty hand as we passed through the door. As we got closer I could see Demo beside the door. He was waiting to cause more trouble, like I’d half expected. I moved my arms so I wasn’t hugging Jean-Claude and he didn’t argue. He could read my thoughts, so he knew. I was being overly cautious since Demo would have to get through Wicked and Ethan to get to us, which wasn’t happening, but I never like to rely entirely on anyone else when it comes to personal safety. It was part of what I’d hated about the shoes tonight; they’d practically crippled me from running or fighting. It was part of the argument we’d been having about my wedding dress, and if you say But it’s your wedding day, there will be plenty of security, you’ve missed the point.
“I am sorry that tonight’s shoes were such a problem for you, ma petite.”
The whole mind-reading thing used to creep me out, but now I thought it just saved so much time. “They can be bedroom shoes, but I won’t wear them out again.”
“Agreed, ma petite.”
My stomach was tight, my shoulders bunching for a fight as we got closer to Demo, and that was when I knew he could no longer bodyguard anyone, because you absolutely must trust anyone who is supposed to take a bullet for you. I didn’t trust Demo not to take a swing at Wicked as we tried to go through the door.
Wicked was almost even with the bigger man when I suddenly wasn’t tense anymore. I was strangely relaxed. The inside of my head had gone to that quiet place. I unsnapped the purse and slipped my hand inside it until it wrapped around the little Sig Sauer so all I had to do was flip the safety off, get closer, and pull the trigger. Normally I wouldn’t have been caressing the trigger this soon, but he wasn’t just a wereanimal, he was former military, which meant he was superhuman fast and trained. It was why I kept the gun inside the little bag so he wouldn’t see it coming. I hoped the purse wasn’t as expensive as I feared, because I wasn’t taking the gun out of it to fire it. When seconds count, just shoot through your damn purse. You only need to take it out if you have to aim at a distance, and ladies, if you need to do that then just freaking run.
Was I overreacting, and if I was, why? Demo hadn’t threatened me, or Jean-Claude, so why was my finger on the trigger? Because I’d felt helpless. Jean-Claude had dressed me like the princess in the story and . . . it wasn’t me. It would never be me. That wasn’t a good enough reason to shoot someone, though. I took my finger off the trigger. Wicked could handle himself if Demo tried anything. I didn’t need to protect my protectors.
Jean-Claude leaned close to my face and whispered, “I am so sorry, ma petite.”
“I know,” I said, but I didn’t look at him. I kept my attention on Demo and getting through the door. The gun was still in my hand; I’d just gotten off the trigger because I didn’t trust myself not to overreact, which wasn’t like me. Did I want to prove that I could protect myself? Was I having a macho moment? I didn’t know, and if you carry a gun, you need to know. Shit.
I used my thumb to slide the safety on, then took my hand out of my purse and accepted that the inside of my head was too snarled to be trusted to make the right decision. If Demo managed to get past all our security, which was incredibly unlikely, I could go for his knee, dislocate it, then try for an elbow to his head or dislocating his shoulder depending on what openings he gave me. I had a plan now, and I was calmer. It would be okay, but part of me didn’t believe it.
“May I put my arm around you, ma petite?” Jean-Claude asked, and because he asked, I said yes. If he’d just wrapped himself around me in that moment without asking, I’d have been pissed. It wasn’t just the wedding prep, or the clothes for tonight, it was talking to my dad. It was raising old ghosts that no amount of psychic ability would chase away.
Demo went through the door with two other werewolf guards who had been special teams like he’d wanted to be. He’d washed out, left the military and become a civilian contractor, read mercenary. He’d been the only contractor to survive the shapeshifter attack that had ended the SEALs’ military careers. If he could manage not to get himself killed for two years, some of the contracting firms would hire him again, the idea being that two years of control meant he was safe to hire. Some firms demanded five years of shapeshifter experience, but most only two. If someone could convince Demo to behave himself, in two years he could be someone else’s problem. If only it worked that way with family.
I slid my arm inside Jean-Claude’s robe so I could touch all that smooth skin and let myself lean against him. He wrapped me into a hug and started murmuring comforting things in French. I even understood some of them, but it was the sound of his voice, not what he said. Jean-Claude’s voice had become the white noise that let me know I was safe and loved.
There was a moment of longing and sorrow that was almost pain. It rang through us and made us turn toward the source. Richard’s brown eyes shone in the overhead lights with unshed tears. I realized that until that moment he hadn’t understood just how much Jean-Claude and I loved each other. His thoughts were too close to the surface, they just came tumbling out. He’d known we were in love, that hot lustful can’t-keep-your-hands-off-each-other falling in love, but he’d never realized that we’d moved on, gone deeper while he’d been away fixing himself. We’d been building a life together. One that didn’t include him, and for the first time he wondered if he’d come back too late.
Jean-Claude was able to hide his thoughts and emotions like he’d flipped a switch, but I hadn’t had centuries of practice. So Richard heard that I’d been afraid of him expecting too much, that I didn’t love him, that I worried that I was already stretched too thin with all the people in our poly group now. It was like the harder I tried to not overshare, the more I shared.
“I’m sorry,” I said out loud, because I didn’t know what else to say.
A lone tear trailed from each eye, down those perfect cheekbones of his. “I’ve come back too late.”
“Non, mon lupe, while there is breath in our bodies it is never too late.” He held his hand out to the other man, but Richard hesitated, looking at me. He’d already read my mind; what could I do?
“Either you’re here to take both their hands,” Ethan said, “or you just came back for the girl.”
I expected him to get angry, but he just said, “You’re right.” He took Jean-Claude’s offered hand and smiled at him, a smile that was warm and couple-y. Then he looked at me, the smile fading around the edges. “I know how you feel about me now. You’re afraid I’ll demand too much, destroy your poly group, your happiness. You don’t trust me because of what I did before, and why should you?”
“But if the Ulfric hadn’t come back tonight, could you have defeated Deimos?” Jake asked.
Jean-Claude said, “No.”
I shook my head.
“Then take his hand, Anita.”
“Anita doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to do,” Nicky said.
“No, Jake is right, Nicky. If we hadn’t had Richard tonight . . .” I realized I didn’t want to admit how close a call it had been in front of everyone in the room. They were good to be security for the clubs, but none of them were on our personal details. The fewer people who realized that Deimos had almost possessed Jean-Claude tonight, the better.
I held my hand out to Richard, and he took it with a smile. It wasn’t as warm as the one he’d given Jean-Claude. In fact, the smile left his eyes uncertain, but that was okay. I’d earned his doubt, hell I was more comfortable with it. It made me feel better about my own doubts. But none of that mattered to the power that thrilled through the three of us.
“You are almost complete,” Jake said.
The hair on my arms was standing up, and my voice was breathless as I said, “What do you mean, almost?”
“This power is a small thing compared to what you could have if you were a true triumvirate,” he said.
“How much truer can we be?” Richard said; his voice sounded as strained as mine. His eyes were full of blue fire. I looked at Jean-Claude; his eyes were glowing with power, too. I didn’t have a mirror, but I knew mine were glowing as well.
“We are a triumvirate of power,” Jean-Claude said, and his voice echoed around the room.
“You will not be a true triumvirate until you share the fourth mark,” Jake said.
“No,” I said, and I pulled my hand away from both of them.
“We must solidify my power base, ma petite.”
“You don’t understand how intimate the connection will be,” I said, “you’ve never given anyone the fourth mark before.”
Richard said, “Wait, how do you know more about this than Jean-Claude?”
“I have a triumvirate with Damian and Nathaniel, you know that.”
“I know how you feel about Nathaniel, but you’re not that close to Damian. Sharing the fourth mark with them didn’t change that,” Richard said.
Nicky gave a deep chuckle. “You haven’t seen her with Damian in a while.”
“What’s that mean?” Richard asked.
“It means you need to see me with Nathaniel and Damian together, before you agree to letting Jean-Claude share the fourth mark with us.”
“Can we do that before dawn?” he asked.
I stared at him, he looked so calm. I didn’t bother to look at Jean-Claude as his face wouldn’t give away anything unless he wanted it to. “Damian should be home by now, so yeah, we can do show-and-tell tonight.”
“If we are to do that on top of everything else, we must make haste, or the sunrise will find us before we have secured our power base,” Jean-Claude said.
“I haven’t agreed to do the fourth mark with the three of us,” I said.
“Night will fall again, and Deimos will still be out there.”
“I know that.”
“We must have enough power to destroy him once and for all,” Jean-Claude said.
“We won tonight without the fourth mark.”
“Did I mention that Deimos is a fire breather?” Jake asked.
We all looked at him then. “No, you left that part out,” I said.
“I will tell you everything I know about him once all of you are securely downstairs and Jean-Claude has done what he must do before dawn.”
“Fire breathing,” Richard said.
“A real fire-breathing dragon?” I said.
“I’m afraid so,” Jake said.
“I guess it’s lucky he doesn’t just want us dead, then,” I said.
“He can only make fire when he is in full dragon form. He would not fit in the alley or side streets. He would have to march up the main road in front of Guilty Pleasures. He will not want to show himself where humans could see him, not like that,” Jake said.
“Good to know,” I said.
“I have so many questions,” Richard said.
“Be a biologist later, mon lupe, in this moment I need you to be my beast half. Dawn must not find me unprepared.”
“Is Edward still here?” I asked.
“He wouldn’t leave until he saw you in person and made sure you were okay,” Nicky said.
“Good, because if we’re going to plan how to take out a fire-breathing dragon I want him in on it.”
“Didn’t he burn a house down once with you and him still inside it?” Richard asked.
“Yeah, no one knows fire like Edward does.”
Richard looked at me like I’d lost my mind, but thanks to the vampire marks I felt the fear behind the arrogant, angry look. He was afraid of Edward; he saw him as careless and danger-seeking. He was afraid he’d get me killed someday.
“He saved me that night, Richard, I wouldn’t have had the guts to use a flamethrower inside a house with us in it, but it was the only way for us to kill the vampires and save ourselves.”
“I know you believe that, Anita.”
“And there we go, Richard, right back to the arguments we started having almost from the moment we started dating. You hate my job. You hate my best friend.”
“I don’t hate Edward, I just know when he’s involved it’s a case so dangerous you needed his help, or something so dangerous he needed yours,” Richard said.
I was all set to argue, then realized he was right. I thought about it for a few seconds, then said, “I see it as when either of us gets in over our head, we have each other to call for backup.”
“Ma petite, mon lupe, we do not have time for squabbling tonight.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” I said.
“I won’t let old habits ruin this second chance,” Richard said.
Jean-Claude held his hand out to us with a smile. “Then let us go downstairs.”
We took his hands and the moment we did I didn’t want to argue anymore. I was suddenly thinking sex and remembering the smell and feel of Richard’s body. It was so strong it made me trip on a step. Shit.
“Ma petite, are you well?”
“Was that your thought in my head?”
“This one I am not to blame for, ma petite.”
“What thought?” Richard asked.
“Never mind,” I said, and I sounded grumpy because I was being defensive, “just get us down the damn stairs, Jean-Claude. We’re running out of night.”
No one argued, and we started moving like we had a purpose on the uneven stone steps. I had to concentrate to keep up with their longer strides, even wearing combat boots. I was glad I had to concentrate on the physical, I welcomed it, because it made it harder for my mind to wander. The best part of my old relationship with Richard had been the sex; it had been the only part that always worked between us. Of course that would be what I thought about and wanted more than anything else from him. It was logical in a way, but it didn’t make it any less embarrassing. I sure as hell didn’t want him to read my mind while I was thinking about him like that, so I concentrated on the steps by staring at my feet, tuning into my body in the now, letting the physical act carry me with no thought, a moving meditation. I held Jean-Claude’s hand, his longer stride forcing me to move faster and in a rhythm that wasn’t best for me, but that was okay. I’d found that moving meditations needed to be hard in order for me to keep an empty mind. I upped my speed until Jean-Claude had to protest, because he was still in the high-heel boots. I loved so much that he was the one in heels who asked to go slower. Maybe it wasn’t being the girl that made me feel helpless, maybe it was just whoever had to wear high heels?