26
I FINALLY WENT to relieve Micah at Nathaniel's bedside. We had a series of rooms that had been made into hospital rooms so that when our people were hurt they didn't all have to go to the lycanthrope hospital that the wererats had set up years ago for the local shapeshifters. Human hospitals didn't always like treating lycanthropes. The room was smallish with a twin hospital bed, subdued lighting at the moment, but I knew that the brightest lights in the entire underground were in these rooms. It had been yet another remodeling project when we did everything else. Jean-Claude was really trying to make this our home. I missed windows.
I'd gotten my hysterics out of the way. I sat there holding the hand that wasn't attached to a freshly shot shoulder. Nathaniel smiled at me, and that was enough. I regretted having to kill Haven the way I did, but I couldn't regret him being dead. He'd shot Nathaniel. He'd meant to take that smile, those eyes, and the hand in mine away from me forever. No, I didn't regret Haven being dead. If Noel hadn't been dead, I think I'd have felt a lot better than I did about all of it.
"I'm sorry that you had to kill Haven," Nathaniel said.
I blinked and realized I wasn't sure what my face had been showing in the last few minutes. I smiled at him. "It's okay."
"No," he said, "it's not."
I shrugged, the spare shoulder rig a little tight. The old one was going to have to be repaired, again. At least I hadn't had it cut off me in an emergency room. "It is what it is."
"Do you want me to let you be all macho about this?" he asked.
I nodded. "Please. I had my breakdown earlier."
He squeezed my hand. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help."
That made me smile again. "Jean-Claude and Richard handled me."
There was a soft knock at the door, and I didn't know who it was until Damian came through. I was still numb from Marmee Noir and the Lover of Death, and from everything else. I realized this was the most alone in my head and emotions I'd been in a very long time. I used to crave being separate; now it felt weird, as if a piece of me had gone AWOL.
Damian had changed into his favorite robe. It looked like a Victorian smoking jacket except it came down to his ankles. The robe's velvet had rubbed almost away at the elbows and other places. I'd never asked, but I was pretty certain that the robe wasn't a reproduction. He'd worn this robe for over a hundred years. It had become a comfort object for him, but I didn't begrudge it to him; I might be sleeping with a certain toy penguin if I ever got to sleep again.
His red hair was dry and shining over the dark of the robe. Straight hair dried so much faster than curly. He had a small covered tray. The rich scent of coffee was mixed in with other scents. I smelled mainly coffee but was pretty sure there was food underneath the cover. I fought not to frown. I so wasn't hungry.
"Don't give me that look," he said. "You have to eat."
"I so don't want food, Damian."
He walked to the little sliding table/tray by the bed and sat the food on it. He lifted the cover and the perfume of the coffee filled the room. I had to admit it smelled good. The tray was heaped with croissants, various cheeses, and fruit. It looked like enough food for all of us, if Damian could eat solid food. "Coffee, then," I said.
He shook his head. "Nathaniel is drawing on us to heal himself. If you want him to heal quickly, and with no scar, we need the energy to feed him. You and I will have to eat more so Nathaniel doesn't drain us." He put a croissant, a small piece of cheese, and some fruit on a little plate.
I slumped in the chair and fought not to scowl. Nathaniel squeezed my hand. It made me look at him. "I can try to stop taking so much energy from the two of you."
I shook my head. "No, that's one of the benefits of the triumvirate." I made myself sit up straight. "I want you healed as fast as possible. I'll eat, but I'd really like the coffee first."
Damian held the plate out to me. "One whole croissant, one piece of cheese, or two pieces of fruit and then you can have the coffee."
"Yes, Daddy," I said, frowning as I took the food.
"I could have brought sausage. Protein will help him heal the fastest and give us the most energy. I was nice, bringing something light."
The thought of meat made me vaguely ill. I took the food he offered a little more gratefully. "Thank you, Damian."
He frowned at me, almost suspicious. "You're welcome."
His expression made me laugh. "Don't look so suspicious. You're right and I'm admitting it."
He smiled, but his green eyes held just a hint of mistrust. "You don't usually give in this fast."
I glanced at Nathaniel and then at the food. "I just want everyone well, that's all." I picked up a strawberry and took a bite of it. It was juicy and sweet and so ripe that another day would have seen it too ripe. It tasted good enough that I knew I was a lot hungrier than I'd realized. Two strawberries and half a croissant later, I asked, "Can I have the coffee now, please?"
He smiled and handed me the cup. It was actually a big travel mug with penguins on it. The words around the penguins were Wake up and smell the coffee. Micah had found it for me on one of his business trips. Everyone who could drink coffee had their travel mugs, or used the generic ones that matched the red and black plates. The kitchen was too far away from some of the rooms, so ways to keep hot things hot were important.
I sipped the coffee, closing my eyes so the smell and taste of it could have their way with me. I'd finally convinced everyone that good coffee was a necessity, not a luxury.
"That's better," Damian said. I heard sounds and opened my eyes to find he'd pulled up the room's second chair. His robe gaped a little, showing a lot of pale naked chest. He had that peaches-and-cream complexion of most redheads, but the complexion hadn't seen sunlight for hundreds of years. His skin was so white it almost seemed to glow against the dark of the robe.
"I've already taken blood again," he said. "Your job is to eat solid food, since I can't."
I nodded, sipping the coffee again, and went back to holding Nathaniel's hand. Damian reached out and laid a hand on Nathaniel's leg where it lay under the covers. The moment he touched him, it was as if the circuit completed. Power breathed over us, through us, so the warm rush of Nathaniel, the cool energy of Damian, and my own power that seemed to be a mixture of both just suddenly flooded over us like three different streams of water intermingling until I couldn't tell where one energy left off and the other began. My shoulder hurt, a lot. The pain was sharp and dull at the same time, and I knew that whatever the doctors had done to fix the wound had cost Nathaniel other pain.
Then it was gone, stopped. My shoulder was just a dull aching memory. I opened my eyes without realizing that I'd closed them. Damian was standing, not touching anyone. His taking his hand away had stopped it.
"You're our master, Anita; you have to get better at controlling this," he said from the far side of the room, as he rubbed his shoulder where Nathaniel's wound would have been.
"I'm sorry," I said. "It was like all the lights came on at once."
"I know bad things have happened, Anita. I'm sorry about Haven, and Noel, but you can't afford to retreat from your psychic abilities like this."
I stood up, ready to be angry. "I'm doing the best I can."
"We know that," Nathaniel said, voice low.
It made me look at him. Just seeing him hurt and lying there was enough to calm the anger. Nothing could be bad today. Nathaniel was alive, and he would heal. That alone made it a really good day.
"I'm sorry, Nathaniel." I looked at Damian. "I'm sorry, Damian." I shook my head. "I'm just tired, but I shouldn't be. We were passed out for hours."
"Passed out is not the same thing as sleeping, Anita. You're more than just tired," Damian said, and came back across the room, though he didn't try to touch either of us again.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"You need to eat more food and then sleep for a couple of hours."
I shook my head. "Last I checked we're trying to stay ahead of some of the most powerful vampires in the world. I don't have time for a nap."
"If you push yourself, not only will Nathaniel not heal as well, or as fast, but you'll begin to drain me, too. You can't do your usual, Anita. Not eating, not sleeping, just pushing."
Nathaniel gave a soft laugh.
I glared at him. "What?"
"It's just I've heard this conversation a lot over the last year. You'll argue, Damian or I will push, and you'll finally take care of yourself. Can't you, just this once, give in now?" He closed his eyes, and a look of pain crossed over his face. I remembered the pain I'd felt from that one big connection between us. I sighed and slumped back into the chair. I picked up the plate I'd put on the bedside table. "I'll finish my food, and then what do you want me to do?"
Damian and Nathaniel exchanged a look. Damian said, "Wow, I'm not used to you giving in this soon; I was just supposed to get you to eat and then ask the doctor what she wanted us to do next. You eat, and I'll be right back with doctor's instructions." He went for the door.
"Am I really that big a pain in the ass?" I asked.
They spoke at the same time. Damian said, "Yes." Nathaniel said, "You can be."
"You know, the Vegas tigers should be on the ground by now," I said.
"They are," Damian said, "but Jean-Claude filled them in on what's been happening. They're calling the other tiger clans to try to get as many to St. Louis as quickly as possible. Get some rest for a couple of hours, before you have to start working with the tigers."
"What does that mean?" I asked, croissant in hand.
"It means I'll talk to the doctor and you don't have to worry about it right now. Eat, help Nathaniel get better, and stop being such a pain in the ass." With that he left.
I thought of a lot of things to say, but they all sounded petty, so I ate my food and tried not to be a pain in the ass. I think every man in my life, and most of the women, would say it wasn't one of my best things.
