8
"Asher, come and see your gift," Musette called.
Damian was already on the ground beside me, his hands on my shoulders, fingers digging in. I think he was afraid of what I would do. He should have been.
Asher's voice came strained, but clear, "I have seen that particular gift before. I know it well."
"Do you wish us to return to Belle Morte and tell her you did not appreciate her gift?"
"You may tell Belle Morte, that I have gotten exactly what she wished me to get out of her gifts."
"And what is that?"
"I am reminded of what I was, and of what I am."
I got to my feet, Damian still with a death grip on my shoulders. Jean-Claude rose gracefully like a puppet pulled by invisible strings. I would never be that graceful, but tonight it didn't matter.
Musette turned back to Jean-Claude. "We have given our gift to you Jean-Claude, and to Asher. We await our guest gifts."
His voice was empty, so bland it was like listening to silence. "I have told you, Musette, our guest gifts are weeks away from completion."
"I'm sure you can find something to stand in their stead." She stared at me.
I found my voice, and it wasn't bland. "How dare you come here three months early, knowing we won't be prepared and make demands on us?" Damian was clinging to my back a little frantically, but I was polite, for me. After what she and Belle Morte had just done, I was downright kind. "Your rudeness will not be used as an excuse to force us to do anything we don't want to do."
Damian's arms slid over my shoulders so he was cradling me against his body. I didn't fight it, because without his presence I think I would probably have struck her, or shot her. Which sounded like such a good idea.
Jean-Claude tried to smooth things over, but Musette waved him aside. "Let your servant talk, if she has something to say."
I opened my mouth to call her a heartless bitch, but it wasn't what came out. "Did you believe that gifts worthy of such beauty could be hurried? Would you really take some poor substitute in the place of the magnificence we had commissioned?"
I stopped talking. All of our men were staring at me, except Damian, who was hugging me for all he was worth.
"Ventriloquism," Jason said, from the other side of Jean-Claude, "it's the only answer."
Jean-Claude nodded. "A miracle indeed." Then he turned to Musette. "All, save one, pales before your beauty, Musette. How could I offer anything less than something beautiful to grace your loveliness?"
Her gaze turned back to me. "Is she not a beauty to equal mine?"
I laughed. Damian's arms tightened enough that I had to pat his arm so I could keep breathing comfortably. "Don't worry, I've got this one covered." I don't think anyone believed me, but I did, honest. "Musette, I know I'm pretty, I can admit that, but compared to the otherworldly triplets here, I am not the most beautiful person on our side."
"Triplets," Jason said, "why do I think I'm not included in that threesome?"
"Sorry, Jason, but you're like me, we clean up nice, but with these three standing here we are out of our league."
"You include Asher in the three beauties?" Musette said.
I nodded. "If you are cataloging beautiful people and Asher is in the room, then he always makes the list."
"Once, oui,but not now, not for centuries," she said.
"I disagree," I said.
"You lie."
I looked at her. "You're a Master Vampire, can't you tell when someone's lying, or telling the truth? Can't you feel it in my words, smell it on my skin?" I watched her face, those beautiful but frightening eyes. She couldn't tell if I was lying, or not. I'd only met one other Master Vamp that couldn't tell truth from lie, and that was because she was lying so badly to herself that truth would have gotten in her way. Musette was blind to truth, which meant we could lie through our teeth to her. That had possibilities.
She frowned at me and waved it all away with those tiny well-manicured hands. "Enough of this." She was intelligent enough to realize she was losing part of this argument, but she wasn't bright enough to know why. So she was moving on to something she thought she could win.
"Even Asher with his ruined beauty is more lovely than you are, Anita."
It was my turn to frown at her. "I think I already said that."
She frowned again. It was like she had been sent with certain lines to say, and I wasn't making the replies she'd expected. I was throwing her performance off, and Musette didn't seem to enjoy improvisation.
"It doesn't bother you that you are not more beautiful than the men?"
"I had to make peace with being the homely one of the group a long time ago."
She frowned so hard it looked painful. "You are a very hard woman to insult."
I shrugged as much as I could with Damian's arms still wrapped around me. "Truth is truth, Musette. I've broken the cardinal girl rule."
"And that would be?"
"Never date anyone prettier than you are."
That made her laugh, a surprised burst of sound. "Non, non, the rule is never to admit it." The smile faded. "You truly have no . . . difficulty with me saying I am more lovely than you."
I shook my head. "Nope."
She looked completely lost for a moment, until her own human servant touched her shoulder. She shuddered, took a deep shaking breath, as if remembering who and what she was, and why she was there. The last sign of laughter faded from her eyes.
"You have admitted that your beauty cannot rival mine, thus taking blood from you would not be a gift worthy of replacing the bauble that Jean-Claude is having made for me. You are correct, also, about your wolf. He is charming, but not as charming as the three of them.
I suddenly had a bad feeling about where this was headed.
"Damian is somehow yours. I do not understand it, but I can feel it. He is yours the way Angelito is mine, and you are Jean-Claude's. As Master of the City, Jean-Claude cannot be drink for the taking, but Asher belongs to no one. Give him to me for my guest gift."
"He is my second in command, my temoin," Jean-Claude said, still in that empty, means-nothing voice, "I would not lightly share him."
"I have met some of your other vampires this night. Meng Die has an animal to call. She is more powerful than Asher, why is she not your second?"
"She is another's second and will be going back to him in a few months."
"Why is she here then?"
"I called her."
"Why?"
The real reason was that while I was off doing my soul-searching Jean-Claude had needed more backup. But I didn't think he'd share that. He didn't. "A master calls home his flock periodically, especially if he thinks they will soon become masters of their own territory. A last visit before he loses the power to call them."