head, and the ache intensified as if some of the muscles or ligaments were bruised. Since I should have been dead, I was okay with that. Jean-Claude’s vampire marks had made me damn hard to kill. The thought made me realize that it was after dark and I could contact him by thought alone.
“You won’t be able to use metaphysics to contact your vampire master, or anyone else, Anita.” It was almost as if he’d read my thought, though I was pretty sure it was only coincidence.
“I didn’t…,” I said.
“You were stronger metaphysically than we planned, so Jacob called in our team witch. She’s done something so that while you’re on this land you won’t be able to contact anyone mind to mind.”
“What if they try to contact me?”
He shook his head. “Nope, Ellen is good, and very thorough, and we’re also over two hours outside your city. Even if your guys break through, they’ll never be able to get to you in time to stop Jacob from telling the snipers to finish the job.”
It was my turn to try to tell if he was lying. I took a deep breath of the cool, earthy air, and there was nothing. He was as peaceful and empty as a still pool of water. It was strangely Zen, and very unlike most of the shapeshifters I knew.
“Besides, if Jacob or Ellen senses you trying to break through the barrier she’s put up, then Micah Callahan dies.” He said it with almost no change in inflection, and only the smallest speed of pulse.
My stomach clenched tight at that lack of inflection. It seemed worse that it didn’t bother him to talk about destroying someone I loved, someone who was a linchpin on which my happiness revolved. That it didn’t matter to him both helped and hurt. It hurt because lack of emotion can make people harder to manipulate, and helped because it made me calmer, made me understand the rules, or lack of them. I could play this game.
I fought the urge to search for the barrier the witch had put up, the same way I’d try a locked door, just in case. If this Ellen was any good at all, she’d sense me trying her barrier. I couldn’t risk what her reaction would be; if it had been a real door I could probably have rattled it a little without my “guards” getting upset, but how do you rattle a metaphysical barrier just a little? My powers tended to rely on brute force more than subtlety. I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk Micah like that. My voice came out steady; point for me. “Not that I’m complaining exactly, but why do you keep threatening to kill him first?”
“He’s just your Nimir-Raj; the others are your animals to call. We aren’t sure exactly what powers you’ve gained from your vampire master, but if you are some kind of lesser vampire, then killing a wereanimal that you’ve bound to yourself can sometimes kill you both. We need you alive to raise the zombie, so Micah goes first.”
“If they die…”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ll kill us all. I know.”
“Did I talk while I was unconscious?”
“No, but we know your rep, and if we kill someone you love there’s no going back, no more being friends.” He gave me a very direct look, ruined only by the fall of his pale bangs over the one side of his face. It gave him a perpetually young, frivolous glance, as if nothing that came out of that haircut could be serious. But the weight of his one eye, the face I could see, was very serious.
“If you have to kill Micah then you’ll kill me, too, because you know if you don’t I’ll hunt you down.”
“Yeah, Jacob doesn’t want to kill you for a lot of reasons, but he understands that if certain lines are crossed he’ll have no choice.” He leaned against the wall of the shed. “The wood’s solid even with all the cracks,” he said.
“Solid or not, it’s not exactly a secure prison for me. Why are we in here?”
His hands were looser on his knees as he said, “Jacob’s afraid you’ve rolled me like a real vampire. I’ve never challenged him before, Anita, never. I’ve been with his pride since I was nineteen, and I’ve never challenged him. I want to touch you. I mean, you’re beautiful and all, but this is more than that. My fingertips tingle with the need to hold you. What did you do to me?”
I was calm only on the surface; underneath was that bubbling fear. He might not be able to tell I was lying by smell or body language, but why lie when the truth will do? “I’m not entirely sure.”
He studied me, head resting on his knees. “I don’t believe you.”
“You could tell if I was lying earlier; can’t you tell now?”
“Your pulse sped up when I talked about killing your Nimir-Raj, and you’re scared for him, so, no, I can’t tell.” He frowned and shifted uneasily on the cool dirt. “Why did I tell you that? I should have just kept saying I didn’t believe you, and I definitely shouldn’t have offered so much information. Why did I do that?”
“I told the truth, Nicky; I don’t know.”
“You could be lying,” he said.
“I could,” I said, “but you’ll just have to take it on faith that I’m not.”
He gave me a look that even in the dimness of the shed was clear. It was a look that said he didn’t take anything on faith. He gave a sound halfway between a laugh and a snort. He was still smiling as he said, “What have you done to me, Anita?”
“I don’t know,” I said, and my body was growing even calmer, because no one was actively trying to hurt me or mine, and I needed to save some of the adrenaline for later. It wasn’t really a conscious thing; just if the violence wasn’t immediate, I calmed.
His smile began to slip away as he asked, “But if you had to guess, what would it be?”
“Touch me and maybe we’ll figure it out.” That was true, touch would help me understand what was happening more, but I was still trying to find an ally in all this mess. I needed help, and he’d sense if I called anyone mind to mind, which left him as the best chance I had for help.
He hugged his arms tighter around his knees. “I don’t think touching you again would be a good idea, Anita.”
“You want to touch me, don’t you?”
“More than almost anything, which is exactly why it’s a bad idea.” He hugged his knees tighter until I saw the muscles in his arms bulge with the effort. I think he was holding himself tight so he wouldn’t give in to the urge to reach out his hand and close the small distance between us.
I sympathized, God knew I did. How many times had I fought against touching Jean-Claude before he finally won that battle? Hell, how many times had I fought not to touch a lot of vampires, or shapeshifters? So many of the preternatural powers grew worse when you touched, but in this moment I needed them to grow worse. They’d taken my weapons, and killing Nicky wouldn’t stop Jacob from making that fatal phone call. Without weapons I couldn’t kill everyone quick enough to save Micah. I might be able to do something to save two out of three, but at least one phone call would get through. That wasn’t an eventuality I was willing to play with, so violence was out for now. I’d put it in reserves for later, but for right now I needed something less violent, and more sneaky. I didn’t have a lot of sneaky in my arsenal of skills, but I had a few things. Things that had made Nicky fight his Rex over so little interaction with me. What would happen if I gave him a lot more interaction? What would happen if I used my vampire wiles and tried to take him over? Could I do it? Was I willing to do it? For Micah, yes; for all three of them, hell yes. I’d compromised my moral standards to save strangers’ lives, so what would I do to save someone I loved?
There was only one answer to that question: Anything.
I held out my hand. “Come to me, Nicky.”
“No,” he said, but it was a whisper.
I remembered this game. There’d been a time years ago when I’d fought every time Jean-Claude had wanted to touch me. I’d craved the feel of his hand on my body long before I’d been willing to admit it out loud. I realized with a start that sent jolts of electricity down my fingertips that I wanted to touch Nicky. I wanted the feel of his skin under my hand. Normally, this would have made me run the other way, but not tonight. Tonight I couldn’t afford to be afraid of this part of myself, because it was the only weapon I had left.
I thought I’d have to touch him first, but in the end he came to me. He wasn’t strong enough to force me to come to him.
He crawled on all fours, closing the small distance between us. Lycanthropes, especially the cat-based ones, can crawl like they have muscles in places no human ever possessed, all liquid grace and sensuality. Nicky just crawled, almost like he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Maybe it wasn’t, but when you run out of good ideas, bad ones start to look better.
I expected him to use his hands to touch me, but he rubbed his cheek against the unbruised side of my face.
