home » Romance » Laurell K. Hamilton » The Killing Dance (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter #6) » The Killing Dance (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter #6) Page 23

The Killing Dance (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter #6) Page 23
Author: Laurell K. Hamilton

Louie and Stephen were curled on the floor, close by. I was among friends. Even Jason, grinning up at me, wouldn't let me get hurt. Jason was Jean-Claude's wolf to call, as was Stephen. I think if they let me get killed, they might not survive much longer than I did.

"Anita?" Richard made it a question.

I sighed and pushed away from the wall. I was among friends, so why were the muscles in my back so tight it hurt to move? Paranoid? Who me?

I walked around the couch, coffee mug in my left hand. Sylvie patted the couch, smiling, but not like she meant it.

I sat beside Richard. His arm slid over my shoulders. My right arm was pressed against his side, not too tightly. He knew how much I hated having my gun hand impeded.

Leaning into the warmth of his body, I relaxed. The tightness in my shoulders eased. I took a sip of coffee. We were all being terribly civilized.

Richard put his lips against my face, and whispered, "Thank you."

Those two words earned him a lot of brownie points. He knew what it had cost me to sit down among the wolves, rats, and cats. Not sitting with him would have undermined him in front of the pack and the other leaders. I wasn't here to make the situation worse.

"Who saved you last night, Stephen?" Sylvie asked. Her voice was sweet, face pleasant. I didn't trust her at all.

Every eye turned to Stephen. He tried to huddle into the floor, as if he could go invisible, but it didn't work. He stared at Richard, eyes wide.

"Go ahead, Stephen, tell the truth. I won't be mad."

Stephen swallowed. "Anita saved me."

"Richard was fighting about twenty lycanthropes at the time," I said. "He told me to get Stephen, so I did."

Neal sniffed Stephen, running his nose just above the other man's face and neck, down his shoulder. It wasn't a human gesture, and it was unnerving in the well-dressed man. "He has her scent on his skin." Neal glared at me. "He's been with her."

I expected an outcry, but instead, the others crowded around Stephen, sniffing his skin, touching him, and bringing their fingers close to their own faces. Only Sylvie, Jason, Rafael, and Louie stayed sitting. One by one, the rest turned to Richard and me.

"He's right," Christine said. "Her scent clings to his skin. You don't get that much scent just by carrying someone."

Richard's hand tightened on my shoulder. I glanced at his face. It was calm, only a slight tightness around the eyes betrayed tension. "I was patrolling the woods for assassins," Richard said. "Stephen didn't want to be alone. I sent him to Anita."

"We know about the assassination attempts," Sylvie said.

I widened my eyes. "You do, do you?"

"Richard wants us to help protect you. If we're going to take a bullet for you, we need to know why."

I met her eyes. Her pretty face was harsh, the bones in her cheeks standing out.

"I'm not asking anyone to take my bullet," I said. I scooted out from under Richard's arm, which put me closer to Sylvie, not an improvement.

Richard didn't fight it. He drew his arm back. "I should have talked to you before I told them."

"Damn straight," I said.

Sylvie leaned her arms on the back of the couch, bringing her face inches from mine. "Are you going to chastise our would-be pack leader, human?"

"You say humanlike it's a bad thing, Sylvie. Jealous?"

She drew back like I'd hit her. A look that was part pain, part rage passed across her face. "Most of us here survived an attack, human. We did not choose this." Her voice was chokingly harsh.

I'd expected a lot of things from her, but not the pain of a survivor. I was sorry I'd made the crack. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything personal by it."

"You have no idea how personal it is."

"That's enough, Sylvie," Richard said.

She rose on her knees to meet Richard's face over my head. "Don't you even have the balls to be angry that she slept with a subordinate male?"

"Wait a minute," I said. "Stephen and I did not have sex. We literally slept together, nothing else."

Neal plunged his face into Stephen's crotch and sniffed. It wasn't a human gesture. Stephen let him do it, and that wasn't very human, either.

Jason leaned in, sniffing my leg.

I put my coffee cup on my knee, in front of his face. "Don't even think it," I said.

Jason grinned up at me. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

"I can," Richard said softly.

Jason smiled at him and scooted back.

Neal raised his face and shook his head. "They didn't have sex."

"He said she'd protect me," Stephen said. The silence grew so thick you could have walked on it.

"Is that what you said?" Sylvie asked. She was staring at Richard like he'd done something very bad.

Richard took a deep enough breath that his shoulders shuddered. "Yes, that's what I said."

"Stephen," Sylvie said, "Did you believe she'd protect you? If Raina had come through the door, would you have trusted Anita to save you?"

Stephen looked at the floor, then up, his eyes darted to Richard, then to me. His eyes finally stopped, staring at me. "She had me sleep near the wall so she'd be in front in case anything came through the door."

And I'd thought I'd been subtle.

"What would you have done if Raina hadcome?" Sylvie asked.

Everyone was watching me, except Richard. Their eyes were very intent, and I knew the question meant more than it should have. "I'd have killed her."

"Not just shot her or wounded her?" Christine asked.

I shook my head. "She got her free pass last night. If she comes after Stephen again, I'll kill her."

"You mean that, don't you?" Sylvie said.

"Every word," I said.

There was a hum of energy in the room, almost as if they were all sharing some telepathic message. I don't think they were, but something was happening. The energy level in the room was rising, and I didn't like it. I sat the coffee mug on the floor. I wanted both my hands free.

Sylvie grabbed me around the waist and rolled us off the couch. We were on the floor with her riding my back before I could react. I went for the gun, and her hand was there first. She jerked the gun out of its holster and tossed it away. She wasn't fast, she was miraculous, and I was in deeper shit than I could get out of.

The bend of her arm was tucked under my chin like in a strangle hold, positioned just right so she could black me out without killing me. Her legs locked around my waist, as close as she could get and not climb down my shirt.

A half dozen werewolves flowed between her and Richard. He was standing, hands in fists at his side. His power poured through the room, deeper and higher, until it was like being buried alive in some kind of static charge.

"Don't," I whispered. I wasn't talking to Richard.

I felt something open inside Sylvie, a trembling, vibrating energy flowed from her skin across my body. It was almost hot, like opening the door to an oven. Where her skin touched me, I shivered. It was painful, like small electric shocks.

"What are you doing, Sylvie?" Richard asked. His voice had gone low and growling deep; it didn't sound human. I expected his eyes to be amber, but they were the same solid brown as always. Human eyes, but the look in them was not. The beast stared out of Richard's eyes. I knew in that moment that he was truly dangerous. I also knew that all that impressive power wouldn't save me if Sylvie wanted to rip my head off.

My pulse thudded against her arm like a trapped butterfly. I forced my voice calm. "What's going on?"

"I'm going to make you his mate."

"You're not contagious in human form," I said.

"Really?" she said. The arm around my throat grew warm, pulsing like a beating heart. I felt the muscles slide under her skin.

"Richard." My voice sounded high and wispy. Fear will do that to you.

Rafael and Louie were on their feet now. The werewolves that had joined Sylvie in this little protest fanned out to cover the rats, too.

I couldn't see Stephen. He was somewhere behind us, crouched on the floor, last I saw.

Jason crouched at Richard's feet, facing the other werewolves. But at least ten of them just sat there, watching, not taking sides. "You've been holding out on us," Jason said.

Sylvie flexed the arm around my neck. I had a glimpse of a long-clawed hand. "Only Raina is higher in the pack than I am, Jason."

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Laurell K. Hamilton's Novels
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