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Consequences	By : Sabriel0405 Category: Anita Blake > Het Views: 4737 -:- 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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Chapter 4

I had gone up against real monsters, things that wanted me dead, hell, real humans who wanted me dead and I don’t remember ever feeling this scared. It was so bad I threw up twice at work. I told everyone I had a stomach bug. They all backed away very pleasantly. It was a smart move on their part. I did my best to interview the clients who came in but frankly I wouldn’t recognize any of them again. I hoped they filled out the information sheets completely or else I would accidentally raise the wrong corpse. Maybe I could pass them off to Larry.

My raisings were all legal issues and insurance claims and all the corpses were newly dead. I could do these with a few pricks of blood. Oh, I made a show of it. It wouldn’t do to make it look too easy. Bert gave me more raisings than any other animator. If he knew just how easy it had become, I’d never get any sleep. But at least I didn’t have to think. Not about the job anyway.

It was only a little after midnight when I finished up. Early for me. I made a few calls to locate Jean-Claude. It was too late at night to wander the Blood Quarter in the hopes that I would get lucky. Willy told me he was at Guilty Pleasures. I got a decent parking space. I could hear the thrum of the music before I even opened the doors. The bouncer knew me and I bypassed the line. There was still a line of people eager to see the main attraction. Living with some of those attractions, I could understand why.

The lobby was decked out in holiday spirit with mistletoe in strategic places and snowflake ornaments in traditional white and blood red hanging from every available ceiling tile. There was even a tree, fully ornamented, though no crosses of course, with unwrapped toys under its boughs. No one could accuse the JC Corporation of shirking its civic responsibilities. These toys were all being collected for the poor and underprivileged children of St. Louis. I hoped at least a few would go to the orphans of shifter attacks, but I don’t make the rules.

It occurred to me that I hadn’t given Christmas a whole lot of thought this year. I couldn’t even remember if we had a tree. I had to remedy that if Micah hadn’t already taken care of it. I knew the pard hadn’t had many Christmases and I didn’t want my problems to overshadow what could be a very happy time. I hoped there would still be time for Fed-ex to deliver gifts because it looked like a real catalog-shopping year for me. I never knew what to get anyone. This year would be no different. But I could worry about it in the morning. Assuming I lived that long. My stomach was doing flip-flops and all I was doing was delaying the inevitable.

The holy check item girl ignored me. She knew I wasn’t giving up my cross and Jean-Claude had finally told her that it was okay. I headed to his office. The corridor was dimly lit by candle sconces but I could see paper snowflakes pasted everywhere. Jean-Claude must really be in the holiday spirit. Too bad I was about to ruin it. I swallowed against the rising nausea. I stopped in front of his office door. I could hear noises from within, typing mostly. I knocked and opened the door without waiting for a response. I had only seconds to drink in the sight of him. He was a woman’s wet dream come to life from his flawless alabaster skin to the thick curls that cascaded down his back. I could only see him from the waist up. A black waistcoat covered one of his frilled white shirts. A blood-red garnet peeked out of those frills, catching the light.

Jean-Claude looked up as I stepped over the threshold. His eyes flicked to me and then back to the computer screen. “Anita,” he said, his voice flat but with that warm edge of anger I had come to know well. “I don’t have time for you this evening. I’m sorry. Perhaps another night?” he said, dismissing me without ever giving me his attention.

If he had been watching, he would have seen all the blood drain from my upper body. I was light-headed enough that I had trouble bac out out the door. He knew about the pregnancy. It was the only explanation I could think of. He only called me Anita when he was angry. I would have thought he would have given me a hearing but maybe he didn’t think it was necessary.

I closed the door behind me and attempted to go back the way I came but my legs wouldn’t hold me. I fell nst nst the wall and slid to my knees. I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs to take a deep breath. I had tried to prepare myself for this but the reality was so much harsher. My body was crying for his but I had other men who could satisfy my body. It was my soul that was crying out just as loudly. I hated debating the whole soul thing but something animated vampires and if it wasn’t a traditional soul, who was I to say it wasn’t a soul at all? I could almost feel something inside me tear raggedly.

“Anita?” I heard my name through the incessant pounding of my heart. “Anita, are you all right?” Willy had come up behind me.

“I’m fine. I just dropped something,” I said, my voice a distant echo. I was amazed I was capable of coming up with a coherent sentence. But I must have satisfied Willy because he continued down the hallway.

I stayed on my hands and knees for a few more minutes, but I knew I couldn’t stay there. I got to my feet staggering like a drunkard. I decided to leave by the back entrance. It was too early for the stripper junkies to be waiting for their favorites. I kept reminding myself to breath. I made it to my car before tears cascaded down my cheeks. Perhaps if I hadn’t been pregnant I would have reacted with anger. But then, if I weren’t pregnant, none of this would be happening. I sat in the car sobbing as if my heart would break. I thought it had. I knew, I hoped, that tomorrow I’d be pissed at Jean-Claude for not giving me a chance to defend myself. And Jason. Oh, God, what had he done to Jason? I hadn’t looked on stage to see if he was there. Shifters can take a lot of damage. A lot of them even like pain. But at 400-plus years old Jean-Claude could make pain seem eternal. It wasn’t even Jason’s fault. I knew I should go back and check but I also knew that I couldn’t. Not tonight.

I got the tears under control about the same time I noticed my teeth were chattering. I hadn’t turned on the engine and the December cold had seeped into the car and under my skin. I wasn’t sure what to do next. I couldn’t go home. Not yet. The Circus was closed to me now. My heart ached when I thought about it. I needed Micah but I loved Jean-Claude. A headache had blossomed behind my eyes. Obviously now was not the right time to deal with the ramifications of what had just happened.

I started the car and began driving. The quarter moon wasn’t bright enough to see by which gave me an idea. The lupanar would be almost preternaturally quiet. There wouldn’t be any werewolves hanging out at this time of the month. It was late and all good little werewolves, if they had had to shift, were sleeping it off in their nice comfy beds. I grabbed the survival blanket I had begun carrying after Musette’s visit and headed over to the throne rock. I wrapped the blanket around me and curled up on the ground. It was cold but so was I.

Now that it was safe to cry, I had no more tears left. Numbness crept through my body and my mind. I thought I was grateful. I wasn’t sure how long I stared up at the heavens, its cloudless sky alive with stars, but eventually I slept.

I woke at first light. While I had closed down my shields against both Richard and Jean-Claude, I still felt the dawn. If I opened the marks I could feel his pain. As it was, I had plenty of my own. I was groggy and uncomfortably stiff. It took me two tries to stand up and even then, I staggered. The survival blanket kept me from freezing but I wasn’t warm. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was strictly emotional or whether the fact that my hair brushing against my ears caused needles of pain to shoot down my jaw indicated a more physical reaction.

There were not a lot of cars on the road, something for which I was grateful since my arms weren’t operating smoothly. I attempted to straddle the middle line in the hopes of staying on the road. I parked the car in the driveway, left the engine running and just rested. The heater blasted hot air but I didn’t feel it, not even a little bit.

I couldn’t remember ever feeling this empty, at least not since I was eight. This wasn’t the place I went when I killed. I used to think that place was empty but by comparison, that place was a party. I turned off the engine and sleepwalked to the front door. The smell of coffee hit me as soon as I got inside. Micah was sitting in living room nursing a cup. He watched me with his kitty-cat eyes.

“You’re up early,” I whispered.

“You rarely stay at the Circus after dawn,” he said. That he never usually woke early for me went unsaid. “Why don’t you sit down,” he said. I hadn’t moved from the doorway. His voice was neutral and unthreatening.

“I wasn’t at the Circus,” I said. I still hadn’t moved but I noticed that my hands were shaking. Micah didn’t say anything. He just waited. “He knows, Micah. He called me Anita and told me he didn’t have time for me.” Shivers encompassed my entire body. “What am I going to do?” I whispered. I didn’t even feel Micah as he wrapped his arms around me.

I was on the couch, spooned against him, hot coffee being lifted to my lips. “Sip it. It’s decaf. But it’s also hot,” he said. The first sip burnt my tongue and I wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad because it meant that I wasn’t dead. He put the cup on the coffee table and turned me so that I faced him.

Micah was almost painfully warm against me. His heat burned into me. “He doesn’t know, Anita.”

I heard the words but they didn’t register. “I should hate him for this but I’d feel the same way if he betrayed me. I wouldn’t want to see him. I know I wouldn’t listen to him.” I wanted to bury myself in Micah’s body.

“Sweetheart, listen to me. He doesn’t know. I know he doesn’t know.” Something in his voice, perhaps the earnest tone, caught me.

“Why are you so sure?” I asked, desperately wanting to believe but also rather certain that I didn’t deserve this reprieve. I had betrayed Jean-Claude. It doesn’t matter that I had had his permission. It was the unintended consequences that put a whole different spin on things.

“Because there were two vampire murders last night. It was on the late news. If Zerbrowski didn’t call you, it was because your cell phone was off and because they were so obviously vampire kills. I am sure that Jean-Claude was the first vamp they talked to. Since he didn’t expect you, he probably thought you were there on official business. After the dream he sent you last night, he probably took it as an insult. Besides, Asher called to apologize on Jean-Claude’s behalf. I guess he heard about your visit.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That you were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you. Where were you last night?” he asked.

“Wait a minute, you knew I wasn’t at the Circus?”

“Yeah. Why do you think I was up?”
`
“But you said…” Now I was confused.

He laughed softly. “I made a statement which happens to be true even though it had no bearing on this particular event. You rarely stay at the Circus after dawn. I wanted to look for you but I didn’t want to alarm everyone. I also happen to know that you can take care of yourself.” It was the nicest thing anyone had said to me in ages.

“I went to the Lupanar,” I said.

I felt Micah sigh. “That explains why you’re so damned cold.”

“Did Asher say anything?” I asked, changing the subject back.

“Besides apologizing?”

“Micah!” I said, exasperated.

“Let’s go to bed. I know I could use some sleep.” He lifted me off the couch and brought me into our room. Nathaniel was curled up under the covers and looked lonely, even in sleep.

It didn’t take me long to change into a sleep shirt. Nathaniel curled into me as though he had been waiting for me. Maybe he had been. I felt warm and safe and loved and slipped into a genuinely relaxing sleep.

It didn’t last long. I hadn’t fed the ardeur with Jean-Claude, which meant that I hadn’t fed it at all last night. That wasn’t a huge problem in and of itself. I could store up feedings so that I didn’t panic about it. On the other hand, it was a capricious master at best. The hunger woke me. I had sunk my teeth into Nathaniel’s shoulder before I came awenouenough to know what I was doing. He gasped, a mixture of pain and pleasure that aroused and incited.

Micah, like the smart kitty cat that he is, backed away from me as soon as he felt the prickles of power, but stayed close enough to intervene if he thought Nathaniel was in danger. Normally he would have left me to my “meal” such as it was, but we had left normal a long time ago.

I forced myself to swim through the need of hunger and really look at him. I whispered, “Are you sure?”

“Oh, God, yes. Please. I’ve missed you so much, Anita.” His voice was breathy with leashed desire.

I bit his other shoulder hard enough to draw blood. Not much, I just broke the skin, but I lapped at the wound. Nathaniel whimpered. I laughed, need pouring through me, pouring through us. I bit through the skin of his bicep. The muscle felt good against my teeth. He groaned.

I was all over him now, part sex play, part domination. I drew soft sounds, pleas and entreaties, from him with every touch. I could feel it building, the pressure, the power, the release. I crawled down the front of body. His chest and arms and thighs were a mass of teeth imprints. I broke the skin almost every time. His body trembled beneath mine. His cock was hard. I stroked it gently and it jumped in my hand. Nathaniel stifled a cry by biting his lip. My own heart was stuttering as I forced myself not to take in in my mouth. I could do that with sex play but this kind of hunger made teeth a bad combination with sensitive anatomy.

But I wanted more. My hands slipped to his scrotum. I rolled it around in my hand and squeezed lightly. He was begging now, writhing on the bed. His hands came off the bed, reaching for me.

Micah did something he never did. He grabbed Nathaniel’s hands and held them down with his knees. Hunger screamed through his gaze and his hands pinched and flicked Nathaniel’s nipples. Nathaniel arched off the bed as orgasm crashed through him, through me, through Micah with the force of a tidal wave. My vision ran in streamers of color. I didn’t remember collapsing but it was some time before I managed to disentangle myself from all the other naked limbs on the bed. Even then, all I accomplished was moving back into my spot on the bed. Once again both men wrapped themselves around me. I felt physically and emotionally sated and marveled at the feeling. I welcomed the darkness.
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Consequences