Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter #16 - Blood Noir (15 page)

I took the Browning out of my holster and went to the door in my stocking feet. I used the peephole and found that it wasn’t room service. It was Chuck.

I kept the flip-bar on and opened the door just that much. I kept my gun out of sight, but in my hand against the door. “What do you want, Chuck?”

“Now is that any way to greet me? I came to tell you to turn on the television, channel thirteen.”

“Why?”

“It’s a media shitstorm, but not the one we thought we’d have. You’ll want to see it.” He looked sort of tired around the edges.

“Wait here,” I said.

“I’d like to come in,” he said.

“I’d like to be taller, but that ain’t happening either.” I closed the door, gently.

“He says to turn on channel thirteen.”

Jason found the remote and turned on the TV. The woman we’d seen earlier, who had been a fan of Jason’s alter ego, Ripley, was on-screen. She was in midsentence: “…When asked earlier today if she had left Jean-Claude for one of his own strippers, zombie raiser and vampire hunter Anita Blake had no comment.” They showed bits of the press conference and us leaving with the questions still being shouted at us. Jean-Claude’s glossy was on-screen now with her voice-over: “The Master Vampire of St. Louis has refused to comment on rumors that the love of his life has left him for Jason Schuyler.” The picture from the website for Guilty Pleasures flashed on the screen. Jason looked pretty, well, strippery, in the picture. Cute, but the picture was not going to help squash any rumors. I said, “Shit,” soft, but with feeling.

Jason went to the door and let Chuck in, then came to stand by me. Chuck stayed near the door, but he was watching the TV, too. It was like a car wreck; you couldn’t look away, even though you knew you didn’t want to see it.

“Rumor has it that they’ve come back to Schuyler’s hometown for a quick marriage so his father, who is dying of cancer, can see his only son married before he passes. It looks like Anita Blake, pinup for the supernatural set, has finally picked one of her men to settle down with, and it is a surprise to everyone, except those closest to the situation. We have a live interview from St. Louis.”

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A man appeared; he was standing in front of Jean-Claude’s dance club, Danse Macabre. “We have one of Jean-Claude’s master-level vampires here in an exclusive.” The camera pulled back to show Gretchen.

“Shit!” I said.

She was still the blond, blue-eyed baker’s daughter whom Jean-Claude had seduced centuries ago. Her name had been Greta then. She was pretty, but not breathtaking in that way of most of the vamps of Belle Morte’s line. But I guess Gretchen would say the same of me, if not worse. She had an almost pathological jealousy about Jean-Claude, and a hatred of me. She saw me as the only thing preventing him from being her lover once more. Even if I vanished tomorrow, he wouldn’t go to Gretchen. But it was easier for her to blame the other woman than accept that the man for whom she’d given up her mortality and her family inheritance didn’t love her, and probably never had. Jean-Claude had landed in this country pretty much penniless. His first few “seductions” had all been about financial or physical security.

She was dressed in modest club wear, because she was one of the vampires who roamed the dance floor at Danse Macabre. One of the selling points of the club was that you could dance with a real “live” vampire. Gretchen was the vampy equivalent of an old-time taxi dancer. You could even get tips, depending on how good a dancer you were, or how friendly you were. Gretchen wasn’t making many tips. There was only one man she wanted to dance with, and he was the boss. The reporter held the mic near her pretty face and asked, “Are you surprised that Anita Blake has run off with one of Jean-Claude’s strippers?”

“No,” she said in an oh-so-reasonable voice. She could sound so sane if you didn’t let her talk long enough. “She’s been sleeping with Jason for months.”

“Isn’t he Jean-Claude’s
pomme de sang,
his blood donor?”

“Yes. He donates blood to Jean-Claude and sex to Anita.”

“Did Jean-Claude know that they were lovers?”

“I don’t know.”

“Liar,” I said, softly.

“What do you think Jean-Claude will do when he learns that Anita and Jason have eloped?”

“What would any man do if his honor and his heart were so betrayed?” she asked.

“None of the other vampires would speak on camera with us; why did you decide to come forward?”

“Here it comes,” Jason said.

“Jean-Claude deserves a woman who will honor him above all other men like a true wife would. Anita will never be faithful to him, never.”

“But she’s willing to marry Jason Schuyler.”

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“She’ll cheat on him, too. She is incapable of being true to only one man.” Her carefully madeup eyes were a little wider, her breathing faster. “She is a whore, and whores know no loyalty.”

“Isn’t that a bit harsh?” the reporter asked, but he moved closer to her, as if encouraging what his words were discouraging.

“She has a string of lovers. Eleven that I know about. There are probably more.”

There was movement behind them, and vampire bouncers came out of the club. They went for the reporters and for Gretchen. The reporters backed up, but kept filming. They filmed as the vampires took Gretchen by the arms and started escorting her into the club. She screamed back over her shoulder, “I love Jean-Claude. I’ve always loved him. Anita doesn’t love him. She doesn’t love anyone but herself. She’s a whore, a…” Then they started having to bleep out what she was saying. The camera crew beat a hasty retreat, with the male reporter saying, “And that’s the scene here in St. Louis where the vampire community is shocked that their Master of the City has been dumped by his girl. Back to you, Candice.”

Jason hit the remote and made the TV go dead. I sat down on the bed with him. My gun was still in my hand, but it couldn’t help us against this. “Mother of God,” I said, “what the hell just happened?”

“Phyllis Dubois helped the rumors along a little, but she didn’t know that she should have helped you get a lower profile, Mr. Schuyler. I wanted to come and assure you that the governor had nothing to do with this, and did not approve this.”

Jason nodded. “I know he didn’t. He would never want me in the spotlight at the same time as his sons. I know that.”

I looked from one to the other of them, with that feeling that I was missing something. Chuck looked at me; his eyes glanced at the gun in my hand. “You always answer the door with a gun in your hand?”

“Most of the time, yeah,” I said.

He almost smiled. “The governor sent me to tell you that anything you need to help with this mess, you have it.”

“Can we just deny it?” I asked.

They both gave me a withering look, as if I’d said something incredibly stupid. “We can,” Jason said, “but how? How do we deny it, and make it stick?” He looked at Chuck. “What did the press agent do to get things this bad, this fast?”

“She mentioned the surprise marriage thing.”

“Why did she do it?” Jason asked.

Chuck looked uncomfortable. “I’m not at liberty to tell you.”

Jason stood up. “Not at liberty to tell me? You have no idea what you have just done. JeanClaude isn’t just my boss, he’s my master. I’m his blood whore. He is not going to be happy about this.”

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In my head I thought,
He’s going to have to punish Gretchen for what she said.
The last time they put her in a cross-wrapped coffin, she’d come out crazier. If she went much crazier she wouldn’t be safe out in public. In the old days before vamps were legal citizens he would simply have killed her, probably. A lot of masters would have anyway, but if she vanished now the police would ask questions. Shit.

“What can we do?” I asked everyone and no one.

“You need to leave now, Chuck,” Jason said. “Anita and I need to talk.”

“The governor wants to offer his help.”

“Just go, give us your cell phone if you want, but we need to talk in private.”

He looked at Jason, then at me. I was no help to him. I said, “You heard the man, get out.”

“If you want to wait in the hall you can, but we need some privacy,” Jason said. Chuck scribbled a number on the back of a business card. “I’ll go to the hotel bar; call when you’re done discussing it.”

Jason took the card without really looking at it. I motioned at the door with the gun. “Get out, Chuck.”

He went. Jason locked the door behind him. He came to stand by me at the foot of the bed.

“We’ve got to help Jean-Claude clean this up.”

“What do you mean, help Jean-Claude? Isn’t it you and me that are in the mess?”

“This story is going to cause Jean-Claude to lose serious face among the other Masters of the City,” Jason said.

“When we come back not married, they’ll know it was all lies.”

“If you were a normal human servant you would have a lot less freedom, Anita. Some of the masters see your freedom as Jean-Claude being sort of pussy-whipped.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Jason held his hands out, as if to say,
Don’t shoot the messenger.
“Remember, most of the masters are men and most of them come from an age when women knew their place, so there’s that problem, but most of them also see human servants as very much servants.”

“Are you saying that I’m making Jean-Claude look bad in front of the other masters?”

“Remember when Jean-Claude invited all the main Masters of the City that he sort of trusted to the big party?”

“I remember.”

“They were supposed to meet you that night. They had brought
pomme de sang
candidates for you to taste.”

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The entire thought of it all had made me so uncomfortable that I’d dreaded the night. The idea was that I could simply dance with each candidate, turn them down as not my cup of tea, and be done with it. That way I didn’t have to be alone with any candidate, and I could politely refuse them all. It had seemed like a good plan until my version of the
ardeur
had shown itself so unpredictable.

“We decided I was too dangerous to ‘taste’ the candidates. I would have been introduced to everyone, but that would have been it.”

“But you never even got to be introduced, did you?”

“You know I didn’t.” I sounded sullen even to myself.

Jason went down on his knees in front of me. “Don’t be mad, but don’t you see how it made things look for Jean-Claude? He had commanded his servant to do something and she didn’t. You didn’t even bother to make the grand entrance with him.”

“I was a little busy,” I said.

“I know you and Asher were confronting some very bad vampires—the leaders of the vampire dance troupe that had damn near rolled every Master of the City in that audience. Jean-Claude and you, and Auggie, saved the day, kept them from eating us all.” He put his hands over mine.

“Asher and I were negotiating with the leaders.”

“Yes, and the other masters were okay with that. Jean-Claude did it deliberately to show how much he trusted Asher’s powers.”

I widened my eyes at him.

“Asher is seen as weak, Anita. A very weak second-in-command, there only by the grace of love and centuries of friendship.”

My hands were still under his. He was touching me, but I wasn’t touching him back. I didn’t like this conversation and I really didn’t like that Jason was beating around the bush. He was leading up to something. The more careful he was, the more I was certain I wouldn’t like it.

“Asher proved himself when Jean-Claude nearly died in December.”

Jason nodded and squeezed my hands; when I still didn’t respond he dropped his hands away from me, and just stayed kneeling. “He was ruthless and effective, and he surprised a lot of people.”

“Not me,” I said. “I knew he was tougher than everyone thought.”

“So tough he nearly killed you.”

I stood up and walked a little distance away from him. “Jean-Claude told me to feed and go meet the other masters.”

“Asher was food, I know that. But food doesn’t usually bite back.”

“You’re creeping up on some idea here, Jason. It’s not like you to play twenty questions so gently. You usually go straight for the meat of the problem.”

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He stood up. “Okay, if you don’t like the gentle approach, we can skip to the point.”

“I wish you would.”

He gave me a look. “Liar.”

“All right, I don’t want to hear your point, because I think I won’t like it, but I’d rather just hear it and get it over with than have this long lead-up.”

Jason made his point, holding up a finger for each part of it. “You have more freedom than any human servant is ever allowed. You dissed the other masters when you didn’t appear for the party, especially when they knew you were having sex with Asher. You bailed on your master to fuck one of his underlings.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I said, but felt myself beginning to blush anyway.

“I’m telling you how it seemed to them.”

“Jean-Claude never mentioned that he was having a problem with the other masters because of it.”

“And if he had, it wouldn’t have made any difference. You are who you are, he accepts that.”

Jason sat on the edge of the bed closest to me. “He loves you, Anita. Hell, in his own way, he loves us both, but he cannot let this story stand, Anita. He cannot be perceived as so weak that he can’t even control his woman, and his food.”