Skin Trade

My voice squeezed down again. “I wanted to go back to the house and feed, Wicked. I wasn’t thinking that it was Edward, or people, just that they were warm.”

He nodded, still above me, propped on one elbow, while his other hand traced the edge of my face. The touch was more comforting than sexual. “I need you to release the ardeur before the other hungers rise. You must feed.”

“What’s wrong with me, Wicked?”

“I don’t know, but if you feed the ardeur, the other hungers will be satisfied.”

“For a while,” I said.

He smiled, but it was sad around the edges. “It’s always for a little while, Anita. No matter what you need, you will need it again.” He cupped the side of my face and leaned in again. He laid his lips against mine and kissed me for the first time. It was the most gentle of kisses, a bare touch.

He drew back, just enough to whisper against my mouth, “Release the ardeur, Anita, feed, so you can get back to your police friends.”

I thought about Edward and the rest going into a house with a demon, and me not being there to have his back. I would guard the back of any policeman that I went in with, but let’s face it, it was only Edward that I’d never forgive myself for.

I stared up into Wicked’s face. “How did you know that would make me do it?”

“You are loyal and honorable, and you would not leave your friends to find danger without you. Feed, and we will see you back to them.”

“We?”

“I called Truth to join us.”

I frowned at him, and it was so suspicious that he laughed again. “Why?” I asked.

“Because if we do it right, I won’t be able to walk right away, let alone fly.” The look in his eyes made me blush and drop my eyes, which put me looking at his bare chest where I’d torn his shirt. That embarrassed me more, and I was left pushing away from him. He let me sit up, but stayed on his side on the rough ground. I realized there was nothing but bare earth, sand, and rock as far as I could see. The side of a hill loomed over us, behind his back, and that was all. Well, not all, because above us was the night sky. It stretched perfectly black above us, with stars, so many stars. They seemed to burn with white light in a way that they never did in the city.

“How far out are we?”

“You mean from the city?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I don’t know; it’s hard to judge miles from the air.”

“We’re far enough that there’s no light pollution.”

He turned to gaze up at all that sparkling sky. “It is pretty, but then I remember when most of the sky was like this, almost anywhere you went. There wasn’t enough light at night to hide the stars, no matter how big the city.”

I stared up at the glittering blanket of stars and tried to envision a world where the night sky always looked like this, but couldn’t do it. This was the sky over far desert, over open water, over places where people were not.

He touched my hand, a tentative play of fingers. I looked down at him. He looked at our hands, where he traced fingertips over my skin, a light, exploring touch. I could not see his eyes or much of his expression. “Drop your control of the ardeur, Anita, please. I am not powerful enough to force the ardeur to rise, and you are not attracted enough to me for it to happen by accident.”

“It’s nothing personal, Wicked. I see that you’re handsome.”

He looked up at me, and there was something I hadn’t expected to see on his face: uncertainty. “Do you, Anita?”

I frowned at him. “I’m not blind, Wicked. I see what you look like.”

“Do you?” He looked back down, his fingers tracing up the line of my arm. He found the hollow where the arm bends and traced a single fingertip around that soft, warm spot. It made me shiver, and my breath shook on its way out.

He smiled then. “Maybe you do.” He kept playing over that spot until I wriggled and told him, “That tickles now.”

“I don’t think it tickles,” he said, and sat up. Sitting beside me, he was still much taller. He put his hands on both of my arms, and smoothed his hands up my skin. “Let me in, Anita, let me inside.”

The double entendre made me frown again, but his hands on my arms distracted me from being unhappy with it. He’d accused me of being squeamish on the phone; with his hands playing on my skin and the weight of him so close, I realized he was right. I’d fallen back into the habit of fighting the ardeur. I could go longer between feedings, so I kept pushing it. I was still fighting it, even though I knew that Edward would be calling the local police. They’d set up a raid on Todd Bering’s house. They’d go in, and there’d be at least a demon, maybe vampires, and they’d only have someone like Sanchez with them for magic backup. Sanchez was a powerful psychic, but he didn’t know the dead, and I was pretty sure he didn’t know demons. If I wasn’t there and it all went to shit, I’d always believe that I could have stopped it. I’d always believe that I could have saved some lives.

All I had to do was have sex with the man beside me and feed the ardeur, and then I could go save the day. It sounded simple enough when you said it like that. Sex, feed ardeur, then hunt one demon, some vampires, and try to keep everyone alive. Yeah, simple.

But first, I had to let go. First, I had to be willing to be vulnerable with yet one more man. That part I didn’t much like; in fact, I hated it. I didn’t like being vulnerable, not to anything or anyone.

“I’m not powerful enough to get through your shields, Anita,” he said in a quiet, neutral sort of voice.

Even now, I was back in control. I could just make him take me back to Edward and the others. But… what if I lost control in the middle of the raid on the sorcerer’s house? What if the hunger rose in the car with Edward and Bernardo and Olaf? There were worse things I could do than have sex with my friends. I could tear their throats out and bathe in their blood, which was exactly what I might have done if Wicked hadn’t taken me far away from them.

No, whatever was wrong with me, feeding the ardeur really was the lesser evil. A quick feed, and then back to solving crime. I looked at the tall, handsome man beside me and said what I was thinking. “I’m sorry that our first time has to be quick. You’re worth taking the time, Wicked.”

He smiled, and it softened his face. “That is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

I smiled, too. “Once I release the ardeur after not feeding for this long, it can be a little rough.”

“I’ll be careful,” he said.

“I don’t mean that.” I shook my head, and just took off the T-shirt that we’d gotten at Trixie’s. I sat there in just the bra, in the strangely hot night.

Wicked gave me wide eyes.

“I mean we might end up ripping our clothes enough that we won’t have anything to put back on.”

He shrugged and started undoing his tie. “I’d have preferred a more sensual reveal, but you’re the boss.”

I sighed. “I wish that were really true.”

“You say Get undressed, and I’m doing it; trust me, that makes you the boss.” He had the tie off, and the trench coat went next.

“You wanted to get undressed eventually, right?” I asked, hands hesitating on my belt.

“I did.” He took off the torn remnants of the shirt, and just seeing him bare from the waist up made me have to look away. That first nudity with someone I didn’t know well always made me uncomfortable.

My rule used to be that if I was uncomfortable stripping, then maybe I should stop, get dressed, and go home. I’d told Jason, in St. Louis, that I was losing myself. Here I was, far away from home, and it wasn’t the men in my life stealing me away from myself, it was the power inside me. And that, I couldn’t run away from. It was like that old joke: everywhere you go, there you are. I couldn’t leave myself behind, so I couldn’t get away.