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Consequences	By : Sabriel0405 Category: Anita Blake > Het Views: 4738 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Anita Blake series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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It was another two days before I was awake for longer periods than I was asleep. They weren’t ready to release me yet, though they had removed my casts. They didn’t know why I had stayed in a coma or how I had woken. It was too difficult to explain vampire marks and metaphysical beasts. Despite having been unconscious for two weeks, Happy New Year, I was exhausted. There was always someone with me. The pard during the day, the vampires at night. Damian enjoyed just being in my presence. As did Nathaniel. I admonished him for not working and he told me that he had Jean-Claude’s permission. I told him I didn’t care. I was his Nimir-Ra and I wanted him to start working again.

I finally convinced Micah to go home to get some rest. He didn’t fight me too hard. He was wiped. We hadn’t talked much. He was just here. I felt safer or at least more comfortable when he was here but Bobby Lee and Claudia had shown up about the same time as Micah had left. They stood sentry at my door. I wasn’t exactly sure why, but I didn’t complain. Nathaniel had given me my Browning. It was under my pillow and made me feel almost normal.

I was having regular physical therapy. I didn’t understand how I could be so weak. Just standing was an effort that had me out of breath. For the first few days I couldn’t make it to the bathroom by myself. Plus I hurt. Needless to say, I was a lousy patient, cranky and intolerant. What I really didn’t understand, however, is why I hadn’t demanded to be released. I hadn’t even asked about it. Oh, they filled me in on my progress but I didn’t ask questions. I huddled under the covers and wished the world would just stop and let me catch my breath. It never did.

I was in one of those moods when Jason walked in. He didn’t have a grin for me, just a sad smile and he didn’t really meet my eyes. I sighed. Why was I always playing Mother Confessor? “Out with it, Jason, what’s wrong?”

He looked up at me, surprised. “I thought you’d be angry at me. I didn’t do anything to stop him from hurting you.” Ah, yes, the incident at the Lupanar. It seemed like so long ago. I suppose it was.

“Jason, if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine,” I said. “I’m Bolverk. I took my eye off him because I was so impressed with Richard truly being Ulfric for a change.” I laughed but there was no humor.

“He knows,” Jason said.

I still possessed the memories or dreams or hallucinations of my comatose period, so this news didn’t surprise me, but I also wasn’t sure what was real. “What does he know?”

“He knows that you were pregnant and he knows I was the father.” Okay, that pretty much summed it up.

“What happened?”

“You mean how did he find out? Jean-Claude. You have to understand what happened that night, Anita. Jean-Claude called me, I mean really called me. It was a command that I couldn’t disobey. He had never done that before and I came running. I hope never to see that look on his face again. He was anguished. He told me that you were dying and he didn’t know where you were but that we had to find you. Then Richard came flying in, so angry I was almost afraid to leave them alone, not because they’d need my help but because they’d need a witness. Anyway, that’s when Richard found out.”

“How did you find me?” I asked, wanting to fill in that part of the puzzle since his version of Richard’s entrance jived with what I remember from my out-of-body experience.

“A few of us changed into our were-forms and went hunting. I knew you had to have had the accident on the way home from the Lupanar. I guessed you were going home to Micah and Nathaniel. We just weren’t sure we would locate you in time. Micah went with you to the hospital and I went back to the Circus. I didn’t know if Jean-Claude would need more blood.”

“Thanks,” I said.

He kissed me softly on the lips. “Don’t do that to us again,” he said. “And I am sorry about the baby. I was getting excited about it.”

I reached for his hand and he clasped mine. The contact was warm, comforting. I wondered what werf saf satisfied his need for touch. “This won’t be your last chance at fatherhood, though it was definitely your only chance of fatherhood through me!” I could almost laugh about it and I could see the corners of Jason’s mouth turning up.

He stayed with me until I drifted off to sleep again, which didn’t take long. I don’t know how long I slept but the first thing I saw when I woke was the gold of Asher’s hair. “Asher!” I said with heartfelt pleasure.

“Ma cherie,” he said. Only those words but I heard so much more behind them. He kissed me and what started as a gentle brush of his lips on mine quickly escalated as I pulled him toward me and deepened the contact. He opened his mouth over mine and my tongue darted in between the fangs. I was gasping by the time he released me. But it had felt so good, the tingle of arousal across my flesh. It wasn’t need, just an unexpected feeling of joy.

Micah had touched me, of course. All the pard had. But those touches didn’t have this lightning rod effect. My nerve endings pulsed with sensation. Asher had been able to do this to me from the first, even when he thought he hated us. I smiled at him and put all that love, that wanting, that need into my eyes.

“The look in your eyes binds me to you more securely than any vampire marks ever could,” he said, but there was a sadness in his voice that reminded me that though we were lovers, I belonged to Jean-Claude.

“Walk with I a I asked.

He seemed taken aback. “Should you be up?”

“Early and often.” I sat up slowly and swung my legs out of bed. Asher helped me on with my Christmas robe, the opaque one. I steadied myself and we went out into the hallway. It was late and visiting hours were long over. Jean-Claude must have promised the hospital a new wing or something because no one seemed overly concerned at my late night guests. I wasn’t altogether sure where I was and I hadn’t asked. It said a lot for my mental state.

Asher and I made a few rounds. That took all my energy. I was pale to begin with but he got concerned when my skin gained a translucent quality. We didn’t talk much. We didn’t have to. He knew as well as I did that losing the baby had been for the best. But the time wasn’t right to admit that out loud. He tucked me back into bed, kissed my forehead like a child and held my hand until I drifted off.

Micah returned after lunch the next day. He looked better now that he had slept and eaten food that he wasn’t via a drive-through or the hospital cafeteria. I suspected he had slept around the clock but I didn’t ask. We talked about pard business and other general things. I didn’t ask if the Christmas tree had been taken down or what they had done with the ornaments. He wore the bracelet I gave him. I was more restless now and knew I couldn’t stay here much longer. I made him walk with me every thirty minutes. Unfortunately, it still didn’t take long to exhaust my reserves. He helped me back into bed and told me to rest, that he’d still be here. I didn’t have any choice. On the plus side, I had graduated to solid food. So solid, in fact, that I could eat whatever I wished. I woke to the smell of Chinese food.

After dinner I showered with Micah’s help, brushed my teeth and otherwise felt almost human again. The doctor stopped in and told me I would be discharged in the morning. I should have been excited but in fact I wasn’t ready. I should have demanded my release from the moment I came out of the coma. Hell, I had gotten up and faced the bad guys after coming back from the dead. But not this time. This time I was hiding. I wondered when that would make me mad.

Jean-Claude came in, looking dazzling as usual. He was more casual tonight, black jeans, rather than black leather, but the effect was the same. I brought him down to me for a kiss and because I wanted the scent of his skin. I inhaled deeply. Micah made to leave, but Jean-Claude told him to stay and relax. It was nice to see my men comfortable in the other’s company. With Jean-Claude, you never knew how it would be. I drifted in and out, their voices a background murmur. I was no longer hooked up to machines or IVs, which gave me tremendous freedom of movement.

I came to awareness again with a suddenness that alerted both men. Heat burned through me, scalding me in waves. The ardeur. It had been weeks since I had fed. Weeks since the fire had last wakened. Jean-Claude said it could be gentle and it had been. But now it consumed me and I was not strong enough either to resist or to partake. I screamed as I drew my nails down my arms, leaving long bloody scratches.

The door burst open at the same time acah cah yelled, “Anita!” and Jean-Claude cried, “No, ma petite!” A cool wind blew through my body and I could breathe again. Jean-Claude held my hands away from my body. The wererats had guns drawn looking for the threat. Micah told them that all was well, or near enough considering I was involved. The nurses hadn’t responded at all. Maybe they were used to screams?

Jean-Claude released me very slowly. “Have no fear, ma petite, I am controlling the ardeur for now.”

Micah had gone to the bathroom for some paper towels. He cleaned the scratches. I was trembling.

“I can’t feed now. Not here. Please not here,” I begged. It wasn’t just the setting that I found so objectionable it was that I wasn’t strong enough to endure the flame. It would overwhelm me in ways I didn’t want to consider.

Jean-Claude looked thoughtful for a moment. “Ma petite, I believe I have another solution. If mon minet is willing,” he said, looking at Micah.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Though you do not have enough control to feed from a distance, I believe if you kept the marks between us open, I could feed you without touching you.”

“What do you need me to do?” Micah asked. Jean-Claude pulhim him aside and they spoke in low tones. Micah flushed slightly, but nodded his head. Micah went to the door and said something to the wererats guarding the door. For good measure, he wedged a chair beneath the doorknob. That madeveryvery nervous.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

Jean-Claude looked at me. “I’m going to seduce Micah,” he said. I blushed remembering the dream.

I looked at Micah or rather at Micah’s chest. “Are you okay with that?”

He nodded but I didn’t see him. He tilted me chin up to look at him. “I’m okay with it, Anita. Whatever you need, remember?”

“How will this work?”

“Open the marks, ma petite, and you will see.” To Micah he said, “You can stop this at any time. I have no wish to frighten you.”

“I understand.” Micah dimmed the lights. Jean-Claude produced a scented candle from somewhere and lit it. Roses perfumed the air.

“Micah,” I began, not wanting him to do something that made him uncomfortable.

“It’s all right, Anita. Really.” He kissed me for good measure and my beast rose in excitement. I stuffed it down. Only one hunger at a time.

Jean-Claude released the ardeur as I opened the marks. Through the burning flame I felt Micah! I watched Jean-Claude stroke the nape of his neck but it was my hands feeling his warm flesh. Jean-Claude drew long fingers down those arms, across that chest and it was me touching him, me rubbing those nipples to hardness. We both gasped. It was a delicate dance they performed, those hands guiding Micah’s body, touching, stroking, arousing. Micah looked surprisingly at ease while Jean-Claude’s hands roamed his nearly nude body.

When Jean-Claude turned Micah toward him and kissed him, my eyes widened. But my mouth opened, my tongue searching, reaching. I was panting, feeling the glide of Micah’s tongue against mine. Micah was bare from the waist up and Jean-Claude was making the most of it. My own upper body was completely sensitized. Suddenly Jean-Claude’s chest was bare.

Micah moved to touch Jean-Claude. The voluntary movement on Micah’s part turned him from seduced to seducer and it gave me unexpected control I pushed the ardeur back just a bit. “Micah?” Just his name, but he knew.

“He said you would feel as though I was touching you and I very much want to be touching you.” Hunger turned his kitty-cat eyes bright gold. He ran his hands over Jean-Claude’s chest. It was as if he stroked my own body. When he sucked one of Jean-Claude’s nipples, my own hardened and I felt the sting of teeth. I wanted, oh how I wanted.

The ardeur was pleased by this development and burned more intensely. The kisses had also intensified. I could barely breathe as Micah used his lips and tongue against our bodies. Jean-Claude’s hand curved around Micah’s now naked ass. That firm muscle against our fingers cried out to be squeezed. Micah moaned. Jean-Claude’s other hand stroked Micah’s erection. He felt so good in our hand, ightight. I tightened my grip, fisting him, metaphysically. It wasn’t enough. Jean-Claude knelt in front of Micah and took the tip of him into our mouth. My head fell back as if the pleasure was too great a force to resist. The taste, the texture of him, so familiar. My tongue snaked out and licked.

Micah curled one hand into the blanket on my bed and the other into Jean-Claude’s silken curls. He moaned and stroked our head, encouraging more of the hot, wet caresses. “Please,” I begged, wanting to go faster, taste longer, touch more. Jean-Claude increased his pace but barely. I could taste Micah’s pleasure in our mouth, the heat of him, the pearled drops that leaked from his tip. They slid down our throat and I wanted.

“Kiss me,” I cried and Micah pulled Jean-Claude up and kissed him deeply, his erection rubbing against our thigh. Jean-Claude guided Micah’s hands back to his nipples and I cried out as our nipples were pinched and pulled and the breasts kneaded. Micah stroked Jean-Claude’s cloth-covered erection and I nearly swooned. It felt different but Jean-Claude force-fed the pleasure into me, turning it into a familiar touch. My arousal scented the room.

We were all on the edge but Jean-Claude wouldn’t grant us release. I thought I would hyperventilate as he used his lips and tongue against all the soft, hidden places on Micah’s body. When Micah returned the favor I expected the pleasure to burst over us but it didn’t. His tongue was nearly kitty-cat rough against our stomach, our inner thighs. I wanted release, I needed release. The ardeur consumed me, and the hotter I burned, the more Jean-Claude held back. He lifted his mouth from Micah’s body long enough to exhort me to feed.

I rode the pleasure along that fine line of pain until finally, reduced to near incoherence, I reached out to both men. My hands against their naked flesh unexpectedly completed the circuit. We exploded in a satisfaction so intense I didn’t think I could bear it. Jean-Claude kept feeding me the pleasure, his, mine, ours, until I could no longer see past the orgasm, my world reduced to that one shining moment.

I have no memories of the rest of that night. When I woke, Micah was beside me, his body molded to mine, protecting me. A trio of roses, two red and one white lay entwined on my pillow. It was time to go home, whether I was ready or not.
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Consequences