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Rave	By : AriannaHawk Category: Anita Blake > Het Views: 2704 -:- 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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Thanks to reviewers.
beth – I’m glad they’re in character. That’s one of the weak points in my writing, so I was hoping this time would be different.
Amiko – Merci. I am pleased Anita is Anita. I wasn’t sure I could make her sound like herself, so I’m pleased it worked out. The Killing Dance is one of the best of them. This is the order I like the books in:
Burnt Offerings

The Lunatic Café

The Killing Dance

Guilty Pleasures

Circus of the Damned

The Laughing Corpse

Blue Moon

Bloody Bones
I’m currently reading Obsidian Butterfly, and I have yet to read Narcissus in Chains and Cerulean Sins. I’ve read a summary of CS and I’m not sure I’ll like it, but it’s Anita Blake, so I’ve got to at least try it. *grins*
sarah – Here’s more! lol.
A/N: This chapter’s kind of short, but I’m leading up to some Edward-softening. Oh, this eventually will get quite nooky, but I’m leading up to it slowly because this actually has a plot. Sorry if it’s slow-moving. I know I hate that in a story, but I can’t help it with this.

I dreamed of Richard and Jean-Claude. They were invading my dreams again, but I didn’t stop them right away. I wanted to see what would happen. We were in a clearing in the forest. I was in a black robe, sitting on the ground. Richard wore a pair of old jeans. Jean-Claude wore sleek satin or silk black pants. I couldn’t tell which without touching it, and that was the last thing I wanted at that moment. I didn’t want them near me, and I didn’t want to talk to them or look at them. I made myself only through sheer force of will.
“Stop,” I commanded when they started to come closer.
They stopped.
“I am sorry, ma petite,” Jean-Claude said quietly. “I should not have been so angry. I overreacted.”
I shook my head. I was beginning to feel very sad. “Yes, you did.”
“Will yot tat talk about it with me?”
“It wouldn’t do any good,” I snarled, trying to override my sadness with anger. It wouldn’t work for long, but I had to try. “We talk, you promise never to do whatever again, and then the next time around the same thing happens. No, I don’t want to talk about it with you.”
Jean-Claude looked like he’d been slapped. I guess the truth was too much for him to handle. He stepped back, away. That’s what I wanted, and I wasn’t going to stroke his fucking ego. I was too mad at him and too crushed to bother. I was the one who needed my ego stroked. I wanted to be held, but not by them. I couldn’t think of any living soul who would still do that. That made my anger melt, which is a bad thing when you’re trying not to cry.
“I’m sorry too,” Richard attempted. “I should have handled things better. I know I frightened you, changing right on top of you. I shouldn’t have done that. But since I did, I should have at least talked to you about it, given you a chance. You were scared and Jean-Claude just happened to be the only person who could comfort you at the time. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt.”
If they didn’t shut up soon, I was going to cry. I shook my head fiercely.
“It’s too late to talk about it now. You waited too long. Stop following me, I know you are.” I pushed them out as fast and as hard as I could.
I woke and looked at the time. 4:30. Edward would be awake by now. I pulled on my robe and slipped over to his door. I knocked twice.
“Who is it?” he called. Evidently he was more at ease early in the morning.
“Anita.”
Several locks churned. That’s why he was at ease. He opened the door and stepped aside. I came in silently. He shut and locked it behind me.
“You don’t look so good,” he said, turning to me in the open space in front of the bed. The TV was smaller than most hotel TVs, but that was fine since it was a cheap hotel, and we weren’t getting away to sit in front of the tube. I could’ve sworn there was concern in his gaze when I looked back up at those icy blue eyes. Edward is like the poster boy for WASP breeding, with his eyes and his blond hair and his pale skin. I realized I liked it all.
“I don’t feel so good,” I murmured. I still felt like I could burst into tears, and there was definitely a tell-tale lump forming in my throat. I hated this. I hated being so vulnerable I had to come whimpering to Edward. I’m a tough-as-nails vamp executioner, after all. Fuck that. I felt like shit and I couldn’t deny that.
I let my tears collect and began trembling involuntarily. I don’t cry often, so it’s like a fucking hurricane when I finally let go. “They invaded my dreams, Edward. They were trying to apologize…but I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to listen. I didn’t even want them near me. And I’m not sorry for it.”
I waited for him to say something to the effect of “I told you so,” but he didn’t. I was glad of that at least; lectures about not dating the monsters was about the last thing I needed, and the first thing I usually got. To my surprise, he led me to the bed and wrapped his arms around me. That was exactly what I needed. I’m still not sure how he picked up on that, but then I didn’t care. I just burrowed my face into his chest as the tears spilled over. I hate crying. He was murmuring something I couldn’t make out, but his tone calmed me a lot. He didn’t try anything; he just cradled me, rocking back and forth while murmuring in that gentle, soft voice. I hated and loved it at the same time.
Those moments of softness planted something deeper than lust for Edward in me.

Again, this is a short chapter. Sorry about that. Feedback?
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