FIC: Switchback 9: Dress Her Up
You asked for it.
Switchback
by Mhalachai. Read previous parts at TTH or at PDS.
Disclaimer: Laurell K. Hamilton owns all things Anita Blake. Only the story is my own.
Rating: R overall, this part PG13
Note: One tiny thing. I reread CotD, and realized I had a date wrong. Richard and Anita's coffee date, agreed upon as "tomorrow" in the last chapter, is now on Saturday. Richard has school, after all.
~*~
Part Nine
Dress Her Up
~*~
I'd forgotten I was supposed to meet Ronnie to work out, and would have passed it by entirely if she hadn't called me. There hadn't been time for me to find a plausible excuse, so I'd stammered that sure, I'd meet her at the gym half an hour later than we'd apparently planned.
I figured I could exercise with Ronnie, meet Jean-Claude just after sunset, then hurry to the cemetery and raise my vampires for the night, all the while trying to avoid Edward, Humans First, Alejandro's vampires, and Mr. Oliver.
On second thought, maybe I should just leave town.
At three in the afternoon, I was running beside Ronnie on the circular track at the gym. The place was practically empty, just like I liked it, with no one to stare at my various scars and bruises.
"Are you doing okay, Anita?" Ronnie asked me on our third lap around the track. "You're not hurt more than you told me?"
"No, I'm fine," I panted. Ronnie kept her obvious disbelief silent. I'd started running at the pace I'd become accustomed to with Micah. But without my beast or the third mark from Jean-Claude, my body wasn't able to keep up with those demands for speed I was putting on it. My knees were both aching, too. I fucking hated this.
We finished the lap, then went back to the machines. I also wasn't able to lift as much weight as I'd first thought, and had narrowly avoided hurting myself on the first machine. Ronnie hadn't said anything then, either.
"So, tell me more about your night," she said tentatively as we switched machines. She'd been acting like this since I met her outside the gym. Honestly, I had no idea how I was supposed to act around her anymore. She was my best friend, or had been, but I'd forgotten how it felt not to lie to Ronnie.
In spite of all that, I'd told myself I'd try. As we began running again, I told her a heavily edited version about the previous night. I left out Yasmeen and Marguerite, Jean-Claude, and most of the stuff about snake. That left me explaining how I'd met Richard in Jean-Claude's bed.
"You saw him naked?" Ronnie demanded, incredulous.
For some reason, her amused disbelief made me uncomfortable. "I'm not a complete prude, you know," I snapped, then increased my pace, leaving Ronnie behind. I ran hard for a couple of laps, until my legs were on the verge of failure, then staggered over to the weight machines for another set.
When I was finished, I looked up to see Ronnie standing beside me, arms crossed over her chest. "You know, if you're made at me, you can just say so," she said, sounding wounded.
Just perfect. I'd managed to fuck up things with Ronnie without even trying. "I'm not mad at you, Ronnie," I said honestly. "There's just so much going on, I'm not really sure what I'm doing."
Out of nowhere came a wave of missing Nathaniel and Micah and everyone so much, that I had to blink to push back tears.
"Look, Anita," Ronnie said awkwardly, "When we're done, do you want to go grab a late lunch or something? We can talk."
Talk. That was the last thing I needed. More lies to remember. "We should finish the workout first," I muttered, standing. My knee twinged under me as I straightened up.
"Right," Ronnie said. I could hear the hurt in her voice. Why was I doing this? I had a second chance with Ronnie, to not let things get all fucked up and twisted around. Did I really have enough friends to push away people who cared around me?
"Lunch sounds like a good idea," I said. Ronnie turned back to me and smiled, but I could still see the edge of hurt in her eyes.
~*~
"You have a date with a man you met while he was naked?" Ronnie exclaimed quietly, leaning over her salad so I could hear her in the crowded restaurant.
"We're just going for coffee," I said, flustered. "Except he hates coffee so he'll get tea, and I'm probably not going to stop myself from mentioning it, and he's going to be all cutsie about it." I put my fork down and put my head into my hands. "Oh, why did I agree to this?"
"Because you never date," Ronnie explained. "The last guy you went on a date with turned out to be a jerk of monumental proportions. Plus, you keep scaring off the guys at the gym."
I glared half-heartedly at her. "I'm not going to go out for dinner with someone who asks me out when we're both all sweaty and gross." I picked my fork back up and concentrating on my chicken. "And I'm not scary."
"Uh huh. So, when is the big date?"
"Saturday."
Ronnie paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. "Before or after Catherine's party?"
I gave her a blank look. "What party?"
"Her Halloween party. Come on, Anita, you can't have forgotten, you were complaining about a costume only two days ago," Ronnie pleaded.
"Damn it!" I cursed quietly. Catherine Madison-Gillette another of my friends, or at least had been until I'd gotten more involved with the monsters. Throwing a Halloween party and inviting me was the kind of thing she'd do. "I'll have to cancel coffee, then." I was curiously crushed about the idea of not seeing Richard again.
"Oh no, you don't," Ronnie said quickly. "Invite him."
I blinked for a few seconds. "I'm not inviting Richard to one of Catherine's parties. It's not like I'm going to marry him or anything. It's just a coffee. Under an hour. Hi and good-bye." I pushed the vegetable on my plate around with my fork, feeling queasy. "It's not like we have anything in common anyway. He still wants the white picket fence and the kids and everything. That's not my life, and when he figures that out, he's going to get very upset, like it's my fault or something." I put my fork down, knowing I couldn't eat any more. "It's best if I just never see him again."
Ronnie set her fork down. "Wow, this guy's really gotten to you," she said.
I didn't look at her, didn't like being so easy to read. "Maybe he's the kind of guy who gets married and does that stuff," I said after a moment. "I'm not like that."
Leaning closer, Ronnie said in a low voice, "You could be." There was something earnest in her bright grey eyes. "Come on, Anita. Anything's better than Jean-Claude, isn't it?"
A surge of anger almost broke through my carefully constructed calm. No matter what I felt about Jean-Claude, it always pissed me off when Ronnie started slagging him. I never understood why, of all my men, she hated Jean-Claude the most. "It's not necessarily one or the other, Ronnie," I said without thinking.
Ronnie gave me a strange look, but she said, "What could it hurt to take Richard to the party?"
Everything, I wanted to say. Instead, I shrugged. "I'll ask him. But he will probably say no."
Ronnie grinned, and why not? She was getting her way, in her quest to get me to ditch Jean-Claude. I wondered if she'd be the same way if she knew Richard turned furry once a month. Probably.
The waiter came and took our plates, and I reached for my purse to find some cash for the bill. "What are you going to do this afternoon?" Ronnie asked as she dug for change in the bottom of her purse.
"I need new clothes," I said glumly. "Guess I'm going shopping."
"What kind of clothes?" Ronnie asked as we exited the restaurant.
"Everything. You've seen the kind of things I wear." My irritation at the clothing that currently inhabited my closet, or more specifically my bedroom floor after this morning's rampage, spilled out into my voice. "Never mind. I'll see you later."
"Anita!" Ronnie called after me. She followed me across the parking lot. "What the hell did I do to piss you off?"
The edge of anger in her voice made me feel horrible. Ronnie was my friend, and all of that shit we'd been through hadn't happened. I shouldn't be taking my bad mood out of her. "It's not you!" I said, unlocking my car door. "My life's just a fucking mess. I'm a fucking mess."
"Hey," Ronnie said, her tone changing. She put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Is something else wrong? Besides Richard and stuff?"
I shook off the beginnings of tears and shook my head. "No," I lied. "Things just pile up sometimes, you know?"
"Yeah, I know." Ronnie learned against my car, watching me closely. "I'd love to go shopping. It'd be good to spend time with you."
I stared at the car keys in my hand until I had my face under control. "Thanks, Ron."
She beamed at me. "Don't mention it. That's what friends are for, right?"
~~*~~
Of all the things that would stop me from meeting Jean-Claude that night as planned, I hadn't figured that it would be such a tiny thing. Well, not tiny.
"We don't open until ten."
I glared up at the wall of solid muscle in front of me, blocking my access to Guilty Pleasures. "I have an appointment to see Jean-Claude," I said between clenched teeth. "So move!"
"The boss isn't here," Buzz, vampire bouncer, said blandly. "You can come back when we're open."
I pressed my hands against my new skirt, taking deep breaths. Before I'd gotten in my car to drive over here, I'd changed into one of my new outfits from my shopping trip. I'd also put on some makeup, but that was because I had to work tonight, I told myself, not because I was seeing Jean-Claude. My reasoning hadn't sounded very convincing in my head. "Jean-Claude is here, he knew I was coming to meet him here at seven," I said slowly. "Why don't you have one of the people inside the club go and ask him if he wants to see me?"
Something flickered across Buzz's wooden expression. "I'm not supposed to open the club to anybody before ten."
"Then Jean-Claude can come down here himself to let me in," I suggested. Inwardly, though I was more than tempted to just turn around and leave. I'd had enough of Jean-Claude's bullshit to last me a lifetime.
"What an excellent idea," came Jean-Claude's cultured tones. He appeared in the doorway, almost dwarfed by Buzz's bulk, but there was no question as to who was Master here. Buzz looked away.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know--"
"Indeed," Jean-Claude said, his voice cold. "Now you do. Ma petite, would you care to come in?"
Some perverse part of me wanted to say no and leave, but I made myself nod. "Yes, I would."
Buzz stepped back, and I walked through the open door. Jean-Claude closed the door behind me with a click, and I jumped. He was grinning at me, fangs safely hidden. "Step into my parlour," he murmured.
I shook my head. "Knock it off," I snapped as I strode across the club. My heels made loud clacking sounds in the empty room as I walked. I could feel Jean-Claude at my back, even though he wasn't making any noise that I could hear, but I didn't see him until I stopped at the door to his office in the back. Jean-Claude suddenly appeared in front of me, his hand on the doorknob.
"That had better be locked," I said.
He paused, looking surprised. "And if it is not?"
"Then I'll open my own damned door."
He lifted his hand from the door. "But of course, ma petite."
I let myself into his office. He slipped around me and went to the chair behind the desk, where he slid gracefully into his chair, steepling his fingers in contemplation as he looked at me.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I stared back at him.
After a few moments, Jean-Claude curled up the corner of his lip in a half-smile. "So, ma petite, is this where I remind you that this meeting was your idea?"
Frustration bubbled up in my chest, along with an echo of desperation. Forgetting all of the lines I'd thought about in the car on the way over here, I exclaimed, "Why didn't you believe me last night?"
"Believe you when?" Jean-Claude's voice took on a flat tone, and it was only from knowing him as long as I had that I knew he was very angry. "When you told me that the cobra would inexplicably get loose, minutes before it did so? When you said that you would injure Marguerite, a human servant whose strength far outstrips your own?" He leaned forward, putting his hands flat on the desk. His midnight-blue eyes glowed. "Or perhaps when you used magic that you never before professed to know, to rip apart a magical snake on the Circus floor?"
I clenched my fists, not sure what to say. The temptation I'd had in the car to tell Jean-Claude everything withered and died. "I was talking about the snake."
Jean-Claude stood up and came around the edge of his desk to perch on the corner, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Flawless black leather pants stretched up his legs, belted low on his hips below a white shirt with his customary lacy frills. He looked so perfect, so... him.
I turned around and faced the door so I could get a grip on myself. Yes, he looked just like the Jean-Claude I'd fallen in love with, but it wasn't him. I'd changed and he hadn't.
"Even before I saw you, last night, ma petite, you have changed," Jean-Claude said softly, his voice filling the room like a living thing. "Your powers, so much stronger than I had ever seen from you." The air moved, and Jean-Claude stood by my side. He ran a finger lightly over my cheek, making me shiver. "The way you responded to me, in our dream."
I jerked away. "I'm not different!" I said. My heart was pounding in my chest. I hadn't been behaving that differently, had I? "And that was just a dream!"
"Make you forget the years of your life that you haven't yet lived," Jean-Claude said, throwing my words from the dream back at me. "As you kissed me, with your thighs around my waist and your blood in my mouth, you said it wasn't just a dream." He stepped closer to me, so that the lace from his shirt brushed my new silk shirt. "Which is it, Anita? It is either a dream or it is not; you are my servant or you are not." He leaned in closer. "Pick one."
I straightened my spine, chasing away the fears in my head. "That was a dream, no matter what I said," I said harshly. "But this isn't a dream. Last night wasn't a dream. People dying because you didn't believe me wasn't a dream."
Jean-Claude smirked. "How you have changed, ma petite. Before, you would never admit that you cared enough to respond to me, even in your slumbers."
"I haven't changed! And stop making this all about you! Other people's lives are on the line here!"
"If this is not about me, then why did you admit that you are my servant, in direct contrast to all you have said and done before?" Jean-Claude asked.
Shit. He had me there. I'm sure I could have found something else to say, some way to convince him that I was just me, changing as I grew older, but all reason fled. "I've got a date with Richard," I blurted out.
The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back. The expression slid off Jean-Claude's face until he stared down at me, cold and alien.
I tried to think of something to fix what I'd just done, but nothing came out of my mouth. Jean-Claude took a step back, then another. "I did hear he spent the night at your apartment."
"It's not that! He asked if I wanted to go for coffee, that's all." I swallowed hard. "It's just one date."
"Yes, one date," Jean-Claude said, humanity returning to his voice, and with it something ugly. "Indeed. Then you may wish to for a long walk afterwards, I suspect that he would enjoy that."
When I got the subtle innuendo, anger flared up. "Don't you fucking start! I already know Richard's a werewolf, so lay off!"
Jean-Claude's eyebrow went up again. "And how do you know that?" he asked. "He did not tell you, nor would Stephen." Jean-Claude began to circle me, like a shark drawing closer to prey. "Is it the same way you know of Marcus? That is a name very few know. Tell me, Anita, what do you know of the monsters in this city?"
I pushed past Jean-Claude. "It's none of your goddamned business how I know about Richard!" I said as I brushed my hair back behind my ear. "Just like it's none of your business about our date!"
"If you are not trying to make me jealous, Anita, why did you tell me?"
"So you wouldn't freak out on Richard when you heard," I said, even though I think we both knew that wasn't the reason. I shook my head. "What's the fucking use? I've got to go to work."
Jean-Claude stepped in front of the door. "We are not finished here," he said.
My eyes narrowed. "We are finished," I retorted. "Get out of my way."
After a long pause, Jean-Claude moved enough to let me open the door. My hand was on the knob when he said, "You will not be rid of me that easily."
I didn't look at him. "If you try and hold me too tight, Jean-Claude, you're going to lose me."
I yanked open the door and strode down the hall. This time, Jean-Claude let me go.
....tbc
Switchback
by Mhalachai. Read previous parts at TTH or at PDS.
Disclaimer: Laurell K. Hamilton owns all things Anita Blake. Only the story is my own.
Rating: R overall, this part PG13
Note: One tiny thing. I reread CotD, and realized I had a date wrong. Richard and Anita's coffee date, agreed upon as "tomorrow" in the last chapter, is now on Saturday. Richard has school, after all.
~*~
Part Nine
Dress Her Up
~*~
I'd forgotten I was supposed to meet Ronnie to work out, and would have passed it by entirely if she hadn't called me. There hadn't been time for me to find a plausible excuse, so I'd stammered that sure, I'd meet her at the gym half an hour later than we'd apparently planned.
I figured I could exercise with Ronnie, meet Jean-Claude just after sunset, then hurry to the cemetery and raise my vampires for the night, all the while trying to avoid Edward, Humans First, Alejandro's vampires, and Mr. Oliver.
On second thought, maybe I should just leave town.
At three in the afternoon, I was running beside Ronnie on the circular track at the gym. The place was practically empty, just like I liked it, with no one to stare at my various scars and bruises.
"Are you doing okay, Anita?" Ronnie asked me on our third lap around the track. "You're not hurt more than you told me?"
"No, I'm fine," I panted. Ronnie kept her obvious disbelief silent. I'd started running at the pace I'd become accustomed to with Micah. But without my beast or the third mark from Jean-Claude, my body wasn't able to keep up with those demands for speed I was putting on it. My knees were both aching, too. I fucking hated this.
We finished the lap, then went back to the machines. I also wasn't able to lift as much weight as I'd first thought, and had narrowly avoided hurting myself on the first machine. Ronnie hadn't said anything then, either.
"So, tell me more about your night," she said tentatively as we switched machines. She'd been acting like this since I met her outside the gym. Honestly, I had no idea how I was supposed to act around her anymore. She was my best friend, or had been, but I'd forgotten how it felt not to lie to Ronnie.
In spite of all that, I'd told myself I'd try. As we began running again, I told her a heavily edited version about the previous night. I left out Yasmeen and Marguerite, Jean-Claude, and most of the stuff about snake. That left me explaining how I'd met Richard in Jean-Claude's bed.
"You saw him naked?" Ronnie demanded, incredulous.
For some reason, her amused disbelief made me uncomfortable. "I'm not a complete prude, you know," I snapped, then increased my pace, leaving Ronnie behind. I ran hard for a couple of laps, until my legs were on the verge of failure, then staggered over to the weight machines for another set.
When I was finished, I looked up to see Ronnie standing beside me, arms crossed over her chest. "You know, if you're made at me, you can just say so," she said, sounding wounded.
Just perfect. I'd managed to fuck up things with Ronnie without even trying. "I'm not mad at you, Ronnie," I said honestly. "There's just so much going on, I'm not really sure what I'm doing."
Out of nowhere came a wave of missing Nathaniel and Micah and everyone so much, that I had to blink to push back tears.
"Look, Anita," Ronnie said awkwardly, "When we're done, do you want to go grab a late lunch or something? We can talk."
Talk. That was the last thing I needed. More lies to remember. "We should finish the workout first," I muttered, standing. My knee twinged under me as I straightened up.
"Right," Ronnie said. I could hear the hurt in her voice. Why was I doing this? I had a second chance with Ronnie, to not let things get all fucked up and twisted around. Did I really have enough friends to push away people who cared around me?
"Lunch sounds like a good idea," I said. Ronnie turned back to me and smiled, but I could still see the edge of hurt in her eyes.
~*~
"You have a date with a man you met while he was naked?" Ronnie exclaimed quietly, leaning over her salad so I could hear her in the crowded restaurant.
"We're just going for coffee," I said, flustered. "Except he hates coffee so he'll get tea, and I'm probably not going to stop myself from mentioning it, and he's going to be all cutsie about it." I put my fork down and put my head into my hands. "Oh, why did I agree to this?"
"Because you never date," Ronnie explained. "The last guy you went on a date with turned out to be a jerk of monumental proportions. Plus, you keep scaring off the guys at the gym."
I glared half-heartedly at her. "I'm not going to go out for dinner with someone who asks me out when we're both all sweaty and gross." I picked my fork back up and concentrating on my chicken. "And I'm not scary."
"Uh huh. So, when is the big date?"
"Saturday."
Ronnie paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. "Before or after Catherine's party?"
I gave her a blank look. "What party?"
"Her Halloween party. Come on, Anita, you can't have forgotten, you were complaining about a costume only two days ago," Ronnie pleaded.
"Damn it!" I cursed quietly. Catherine Madison-Gillette another of my friends, or at least had been until I'd gotten more involved with the monsters. Throwing a Halloween party and inviting me was the kind of thing she'd do. "I'll have to cancel coffee, then." I was curiously crushed about the idea of not seeing Richard again.
"Oh no, you don't," Ronnie said quickly. "Invite him."
I blinked for a few seconds. "I'm not inviting Richard to one of Catherine's parties. It's not like I'm going to marry him or anything. It's just a coffee. Under an hour. Hi and good-bye." I pushed the vegetable on my plate around with my fork, feeling queasy. "It's not like we have anything in common anyway. He still wants the white picket fence and the kids and everything. That's not my life, and when he figures that out, he's going to get very upset, like it's my fault or something." I put my fork down, knowing I couldn't eat any more. "It's best if I just never see him again."
Ronnie set her fork down. "Wow, this guy's really gotten to you," she said.
I didn't look at her, didn't like being so easy to read. "Maybe he's the kind of guy who gets married and does that stuff," I said after a moment. "I'm not like that."
Leaning closer, Ronnie said in a low voice, "You could be." There was something earnest in her bright grey eyes. "Come on, Anita. Anything's better than Jean-Claude, isn't it?"
A surge of anger almost broke through my carefully constructed calm. No matter what I felt about Jean-Claude, it always pissed me off when Ronnie started slagging him. I never understood why, of all my men, she hated Jean-Claude the most. "It's not necessarily one or the other, Ronnie," I said without thinking.
Ronnie gave me a strange look, but she said, "What could it hurt to take Richard to the party?"
Everything, I wanted to say. Instead, I shrugged. "I'll ask him. But he will probably say no."
Ronnie grinned, and why not? She was getting her way, in her quest to get me to ditch Jean-Claude. I wondered if she'd be the same way if she knew Richard turned furry once a month. Probably.
The waiter came and took our plates, and I reached for my purse to find some cash for the bill. "What are you going to do this afternoon?" Ronnie asked as she dug for change in the bottom of her purse.
"I need new clothes," I said glumly. "Guess I'm going shopping."
"What kind of clothes?" Ronnie asked as we exited the restaurant.
"Everything. You've seen the kind of things I wear." My irritation at the clothing that currently inhabited my closet, or more specifically my bedroom floor after this morning's rampage, spilled out into my voice. "Never mind. I'll see you later."
"Anita!" Ronnie called after me. She followed me across the parking lot. "What the hell did I do to piss you off?"
The edge of anger in her voice made me feel horrible. Ronnie was my friend, and all of that shit we'd been through hadn't happened. I shouldn't be taking my bad mood out of her. "It's not you!" I said, unlocking my car door. "My life's just a fucking mess. I'm a fucking mess."
"Hey," Ronnie said, her tone changing. She put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Is something else wrong? Besides Richard and stuff?"
I shook off the beginnings of tears and shook my head. "No," I lied. "Things just pile up sometimes, you know?"
"Yeah, I know." Ronnie learned against my car, watching me closely. "I'd love to go shopping. It'd be good to spend time with you."
I stared at the car keys in my hand until I had my face under control. "Thanks, Ron."
She beamed at me. "Don't mention it. That's what friends are for, right?"
~~*~~
Of all the things that would stop me from meeting Jean-Claude that night as planned, I hadn't figured that it would be such a tiny thing. Well, not tiny.
"We don't open until ten."
I glared up at the wall of solid muscle in front of me, blocking my access to Guilty Pleasures. "I have an appointment to see Jean-Claude," I said between clenched teeth. "So move!"
"The boss isn't here," Buzz, vampire bouncer, said blandly. "You can come back when we're open."
I pressed my hands against my new skirt, taking deep breaths. Before I'd gotten in my car to drive over here, I'd changed into one of my new outfits from my shopping trip. I'd also put on some makeup, but that was because I had to work tonight, I told myself, not because I was seeing Jean-Claude. My reasoning hadn't sounded very convincing in my head. "Jean-Claude is here, he knew I was coming to meet him here at seven," I said slowly. "Why don't you have one of the people inside the club go and ask him if he wants to see me?"
Something flickered across Buzz's wooden expression. "I'm not supposed to open the club to anybody before ten."
"Then Jean-Claude can come down here himself to let me in," I suggested. Inwardly, though I was more than tempted to just turn around and leave. I'd had enough of Jean-Claude's bullshit to last me a lifetime.
"What an excellent idea," came Jean-Claude's cultured tones. He appeared in the doorway, almost dwarfed by Buzz's bulk, but there was no question as to who was Master here. Buzz looked away.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know--"
"Indeed," Jean-Claude said, his voice cold. "Now you do. Ma petite, would you care to come in?"
Some perverse part of me wanted to say no and leave, but I made myself nod. "Yes, I would."
Buzz stepped back, and I walked through the open door. Jean-Claude closed the door behind me with a click, and I jumped. He was grinning at me, fangs safely hidden. "Step into my parlour," he murmured.
I shook my head. "Knock it off," I snapped as I strode across the club. My heels made loud clacking sounds in the empty room as I walked. I could feel Jean-Claude at my back, even though he wasn't making any noise that I could hear, but I didn't see him until I stopped at the door to his office in the back. Jean-Claude suddenly appeared in front of me, his hand on the doorknob.
"That had better be locked," I said.
He paused, looking surprised. "And if it is not?"
"Then I'll open my own damned door."
He lifted his hand from the door. "But of course, ma petite."
I let myself into his office. He slipped around me and went to the chair behind the desk, where he slid gracefully into his chair, steepling his fingers in contemplation as he looked at me.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I stared back at him.
After a few moments, Jean-Claude curled up the corner of his lip in a half-smile. "So, ma petite, is this where I remind you that this meeting was your idea?"
Frustration bubbled up in my chest, along with an echo of desperation. Forgetting all of the lines I'd thought about in the car on the way over here, I exclaimed, "Why didn't you believe me last night?"
"Believe you when?" Jean-Claude's voice took on a flat tone, and it was only from knowing him as long as I had that I knew he was very angry. "When you told me that the cobra would inexplicably get loose, minutes before it did so? When you said that you would injure Marguerite, a human servant whose strength far outstrips your own?" He leaned forward, putting his hands flat on the desk. His midnight-blue eyes glowed. "Or perhaps when you used magic that you never before professed to know, to rip apart a magical snake on the Circus floor?"
I clenched my fists, not sure what to say. The temptation I'd had in the car to tell Jean-Claude everything withered and died. "I was talking about the snake."
Jean-Claude stood up and came around the edge of his desk to perch on the corner, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Flawless black leather pants stretched up his legs, belted low on his hips below a white shirt with his customary lacy frills. He looked so perfect, so... him.
I turned around and faced the door so I could get a grip on myself. Yes, he looked just like the Jean-Claude I'd fallen in love with, but it wasn't him. I'd changed and he hadn't.
"Even before I saw you, last night, ma petite, you have changed," Jean-Claude said softly, his voice filling the room like a living thing. "Your powers, so much stronger than I had ever seen from you." The air moved, and Jean-Claude stood by my side. He ran a finger lightly over my cheek, making me shiver. "The way you responded to me, in our dream."
I jerked away. "I'm not different!" I said. My heart was pounding in my chest. I hadn't been behaving that differently, had I? "And that was just a dream!"
"Make you forget the years of your life that you haven't yet lived," Jean-Claude said, throwing my words from the dream back at me. "As you kissed me, with your thighs around my waist and your blood in my mouth, you said it wasn't just a dream." He stepped closer to me, so that the lace from his shirt brushed my new silk shirt. "Which is it, Anita? It is either a dream or it is not; you are my servant or you are not." He leaned in closer. "Pick one."
I straightened my spine, chasing away the fears in my head. "That was a dream, no matter what I said," I said harshly. "But this isn't a dream. Last night wasn't a dream. People dying because you didn't believe me wasn't a dream."
Jean-Claude smirked. "How you have changed, ma petite. Before, you would never admit that you cared enough to respond to me, even in your slumbers."
"I haven't changed! And stop making this all about you! Other people's lives are on the line here!"
"If this is not about me, then why did you admit that you are my servant, in direct contrast to all you have said and done before?" Jean-Claude asked.
Shit. He had me there. I'm sure I could have found something else to say, some way to convince him that I was just me, changing as I grew older, but all reason fled. "I've got a date with Richard," I blurted out.
The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back. The expression slid off Jean-Claude's face until he stared down at me, cold and alien.
I tried to think of something to fix what I'd just done, but nothing came out of my mouth. Jean-Claude took a step back, then another. "I did hear he spent the night at your apartment."
"It's not that! He asked if I wanted to go for coffee, that's all." I swallowed hard. "It's just one date."
"Yes, one date," Jean-Claude said, humanity returning to his voice, and with it something ugly. "Indeed. Then you may wish to for a long walk afterwards, I suspect that he would enjoy that."
When I got the subtle innuendo, anger flared up. "Don't you fucking start! I already know Richard's a werewolf, so lay off!"
Jean-Claude's eyebrow went up again. "And how do you know that?" he asked. "He did not tell you, nor would Stephen." Jean-Claude began to circle me, like a shark drawing closer to prey. "Is it the same way you know of Marcus? That is a name very few know. Tell me, Anita, what do you know of the monsters in this city?"
I pushed past Jean-Claude. "It's none of your goddamned business how I know about Richard!" I said as I brushed my hair back behind my ear. "Just like it's none of your business about our date!"
"If you are not trying to make me jealous, Anita, why did you tell me?"
"So you wouldn't freak out on Richard when you heard," I said, even though I think we both knew that wasn't the reason. I shook my head. "What's the fucking use? I've got to go to work."
Jean-Claude stepped in front of the door. "We are not finished here," he said.
My eyes narrowed. "We are finished," I retorted. "Get out of my way."
After a long pause, Jean-Claude moved enough to let me open the door. My hand was on the knob when he said, "You will not be rid of me that easily."
I didn't look at him. "If you try and hold me too tight, Jean-Claude, you're going to lose me."
I yanked open the door and strode down the hall. This time, Jean-Claude let me go.
....tbc