(no subject)
Here it is Chapter 4 version 2
Thanks to Watersprite99 for her super beta skills
JKR and LKH got the ball rolling and own it all
Changing the plot,
From now on;
My words are in Black
Mhalachia’s works are in Blue!.. easier on me that way.. we will be seeing less blue words from now on.
Chapter 4: Be careful what you wish for.
The ride home had been in relative silence, the reality of the situation was starting to sink in. It looked like the kid was thinking about what had happened to him tonight and I was guessing by the look on his face it wasn’t pleasant. As I opened the front door I decided that the best thing would be to keep my mouth shut and let the kid work things out for himself.
"Here it is," I said as I turned on the hallway lights. Harry blinked at the sudden brightness.
"This is a nice place, Ms. Blake," he said as he stepped inside.
"Thanks, but I can't take any of the credit." I closed and dead-bolted the door behind me. "The guys decorated. And clean. I just pay the bills."
Harry didn’t say anything and when I looked back at him he was staring into the darkened living room, at what I couldn’t tell. For just a moment I panicked wondering if someone had left something inappropriate on the coffee table. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized that Harry had just zoned out-- the kid was asleep on his feet.
“Earth to Harry, come in Harry.” I snapped my fingers in front of his face.
“Oh, sorry…” a red flush started to creep up Harry’s neck and color his ears, “I guess I drifted off there for a bit.” The end of the sentence was swallowed by a huge yawn.
I couldn't help myself. I smiled. "Do you want to take a shower, then? It would get rid of the rest of the blood and then we can find you a place to get some shut eye."
Suddenly serious, Harry looked full at me. It was as if he was trying to read my aura, but I couldn't feel anything. Then the movement was over, and Harry relaxed. "I don't mean to be any trouble..." he said.
I felt a rush of amusement that wasn't my own, and realized that Jean-Claude was paying attention to me. I thought annoyed thoughts at him, but didn't close the marks. "Believe me, if you're being troublesome, I'll tell you."
I ended up showing him the bathroom, where the towels were, and left him to it. I watched as he closed the door, and only then did I go back to the kitchen. If the door opened, I would be able to hear it.
I didn't bother to grind any coffee beans. Nathaniel had messed up the grocery list a few weeks ago and had gotten a pound of pre-ground coffee. He was so distressed when he realized what happened that I'd had to promise him that it was all right, and drink this stuff. Not that it was bad, just that the usual ritual I went though was gone. But I hadn't wanted to upset Nathaniel anymore. When he was unhappy, I was unhappy. And when I was unhappy, trust me, everyone was unhappy.
The coffee was brewing and the shower still running when I heard the front door open. My senses alert, I stood up and padded my way to the edge of the kitchen. The front door closed again, and I heard the locks clicking.
A pause, then, "It's just me, Anita," Damian said. “Damn it!” I thought. "The last thing I need is for Harry to come out and find a vampire in the house, what the hell is Damian doing home this early anyway?”
“What's going on?” I snapped “I thought you were working tonight?”
That brought Damian up short, and he held his hand in front of himself as if to ward off a blow. I looked down and saw that my hands were curled into fists and the rest of my body was wound up like a spring.
I let the tension relax out of my shoulders and went back to lean against the kitchen island.
Damian licked his lips and just looked at me and in a quiet voice he said. "I was at work. Things were going as usual until a very drunk customer brought the new fountain display down on me and someone I was dancing with."
I winced. Jean-Claude had installed a wrought-iron fountain that was backlit with lights and stuff. It looked very nice at Danse Macabre, when the whole lighting system was going. But the apparatus must have weighed more than I did.
"Is the girl you were dancing with okay?" I asked.
I tried to act as if I cared about what had happened at the club, all the while trying to listen and hear if the shower had shut off yet, I needed to get Damian downstairs before Harry came out. I didn’t know if he could sense the undead, and I didn’t want a strange witch --- no he insisted he was a wizard -- freaking out in my kitchen.
"Yes. I caught the fountain before it hit either of us, but we were soaked in the process. Hannah spent half an hour apologizing to the girl, promised to pay for her dry cleaning and offering her a free night, that sort of thing," Damian explained. His tone made it very clear what he thought of modern customer service.
"And you?" I asked, coming to stand in front of him. I knew he was fine, otherwise I could have felt it, but I knew he would like to be asked.
He looked down at me, so solemn. "Other than a good dousing, I am fine. Hannah let me come home early as my costume was ruined."
The compulsion I had to touch Damian was so strong that it was hard to breathe. I knew he was my vampire servant, a third of my second triumvirate with Nathaniel, that it was my magic that made his heart beat, but acting like it was always so damn hard.
Damn it, I didn’t have time for this. The sound of the running water had stopped. I didn’t want to hurt Damian’s feelings, but I didn’t have time to touch him in the way that he wanted to be touched. I couldn’t lie to myself and say that I didn’t want to touch him too, but Harry would be walking out of the bathroom any minute now. Talk about freaking the kid out.
“Look” I said pausing to take a sip of coffee and try and figure out a way to get Damian to go into the basement without a fuss. “I need a favor, I need you to go downstairs for a while.”
“Why?” Damian looked at me, I saw his eyes flicker towards the bathroom. “Who did you bring home?” There was a hurt look on his face.
It only took me a second to put two and two together and less than a second after that to almost lose it.
Through clenched teeth I hissed. “Not that it is ANY of your business who I bring home but, I picked up a kid who was bitten up pretty bad tonight, SO I thought it wouldn’t be the best thing for him walk into the friggin kitchen and bump into another vampire!”
"Since when do you bring home the newly wounded?" Damian asked. He moved around the kitchen like a ghost.
"I don't feel like justifying myself to you," I snapped.
Damian stared at me. "All I asked was why you had done this. I live here too, it's a legitimate question."
Luckily, the sound of the bathroom door opening saved me from continuing this conversation with Damian. He was gone without a word, down the basement stairs with a speed that only the undead possessed. The basement door closed as Harry walked into the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway, a guarded look on his face.
“Sorry, I though I head another voice, was I interrupting?”
I took another calming sip of coffee. “You just missed Damian, he just got home from work.” I gave Harry a weak smile. “His room is in the basement.” I said it as though that was the most normal thing in the world.
“Oh” was all Harry said as he stared at the basement door. He was wearing the shirt I had given him in the car and the same jeans. It was too bad no one in the house would have clothes that would fit him. Micah and I were too small, same with Nathaniel, and Damian was way too tall.
Harry turned and looked at me with those big green eyes of his. “Is my staying here causing a problem? I don’t want to be a bother.”
“I told you, no problem kiddo.” Harry frowned at the kiddo reference as I tried to lighten things up. “Damian was just dead tired…..” I stopped and realized I had just made a stupid pun. I wondered if Damian had been listening. I swallowed half the cup of coffee in one go, wishing it would take away the beginnings of my headache. I didn’t want to treat Damian like some kind of joke. He didn't complain, but I always felt like the bad guy after situations like this. I wish, for once, that I had the time to explain things to him.
"Speaking of which, you look dead on your feet.” Oh crap, I was just digging myself deeper and deeper. I needed to cut my losses and get the hell out of the kitchen. “How about that sleep thing, then?" I asked after I set the mug down.
Harry nodded. "That sounds nice. Sleep would be nice."
I mentally kicked myself as I showed Harry the couch and got him a pillow and blanket from the linen closet. It was the middle of summer, so he probably wouldn't need it, but just in case.
"If you need anything, just knock," I said. Harry nodded and sat on the couch. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine, I guess." He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Maybe it will seem more important in the morning, but right now is seems unreal."
I knew that feeling. "We'll talk tomorrow," I said as I switched off the overhead light. I left Harry sitting, staring at the floor, in a small well of pale light from a tiny lamp.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry reached over and turned off the lamp. He was tired, the healing and notice-me-not charms he had cast earlier had taken a lot out of him. As he tried to get comfortable Harry though about Anita and all that had happened in the last few hours. It was all so normal here. Not normal how Harry knew normal. If he were back at the Dursleys, he'd be up in his room or out roaming the streets of Little Whinging. No one would have cleaned him up, or offered to buy him whatever he wanted for dinner. He sat up and put his glasses back on.
Harry looked toward the kitchen. Anita was sitting at the table, bent over some papers, concentrating. Harry just looked at her for a moment. Her hair was dark, so dark, and it was almost as wild as Hermione's, but her skin was as pale as his was in the winter.
Harry shook his head, willing his hormones to calm down. Suddenly Harry’s thoughts were brought back to what had happened in the barn. What would Cho or anyone else for that matter think? He tried to push the memories away, like he had done with Cedric or Sirius or any of the other lousy things that had happened in his life.
Harry had tried not to look as he took his shower- not to feel the sting of the water and soap in the bites. He had just wanted to relish the warmth of the water coursing down his body and forget. Forget the barn. Forget the vampires. Forget that the Dursely’s were complete and utter bastards… Maybe even that this wasn’t his home and that the nice woman in the kitchen hadn’t just been nice to him for no reason.
He had wanted her to say something other than ‘just because.’ Everyone wanted something from him. Things would have been a lot simpler if she had just told him outright what it was, because life had taught him no one ever did something for nothing. Even the guy that had picked him up had wanted something. Why’d she have to lie to him?
Harry wrapped the blanket tighter about himself as he tried to suppress a shudder- vaguely he realized that it was a constant shiver that just wouldn’t stop. It wasn’t like he’d have been able to do anything to stop her, not that he would want to anyway…At that thought ice water practically settled into his marrow and filled his veins. He was terrified, for some strange reason he’d never be warm again. That he’d never forget the feel their hands, the burning touch that made him itch and feel dirty at the same time… of what would happen if the feel of Anita’s soft hands replaced the rough hands of those vampires-would he still feel dirty even after or because of it?
Harry shifted on the couch, the weight on his hip changed from right to left. He bit back an exclamation at the pain.
Why did this have to happen, isn't my life crummy enough already. Harry had to stifle a sudden laugh when he realized he had spent most of the summer wishing for something, anything that would take his mind off of what had happened at the Ministry of Magic. Harry guessed in the future he should be more careful about what he wished for.
From the kitchen, Anita muttered something about paper, and the chair moved over the floor.
Harry sighed and adjusted the pillow so his neck wasn’t bent at an angle. This not thinking about anything was hard.
What to think about that didn't mean anything... Harry's mind lit upon the Dursleys. It was all their fault that Harry was even here in Saint Louis. Uncle Vernon had been incensed when the family's planned trip to London had been bumped due to a vampire event. The man couldn't even use the word vampire without risking apoplexy.
Harry didn't understand much of what was going on. Apparently, the muggle government in England had recognized vampires as legal a few years before, but Harry had been in school at the time, and the ensuing months in Surrey had been so focused on Voldemort that Harry hadn't paid much attention.
But legal vampires... the wizarding world had been ignoring the muggle press, what with Voldemort's return. What Harry didn't understand is why the Daily Prophet hadn't picked up on the news, made it a big deal.
Fit to be tied about the situation in England, Uncle Vernon had booked a flight to America. They had even dragged Harry along, but Harry suspected that was partly due to fear of having the house destroyed if they left him there. Harry had gone so far as suggesting that the Dursleys contact the Weasleys, leave Harry in England, but Petunia had looked down her nose at her nephew and coldly reminded him that he was going to remain with them for at least a month.
So off to America they went.
Harry's mind stalled on thoughts of that evening, and he pushed them away. He did not want to think about the barn or waking up with the lights shining in his eyes and falling, falling into the vampire’s gaze. The feeling of fangs piercing his flesh… that was what had helped him break the trance he was under, hands on his body...NO! and then a flash of raw power.
His thoughts started to drift around in circles. Somewhere in all of the mess that was his memories, he drifted off into a fitful sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I checked my cell phone for the fifteenth time. The thing was powered up, with good reception. So why had no one called? It was the night of the full moon. There had not been a full moon in eight months when someone had not called me, due to some sort of lycanthropic or vampiric emergency.
On those days when someone did call, I always bitched and moaned and was unhappy. Now here I was, bitching that no one was calling. Talk about never being satisfied.
The cell phone went back onto the table and I stared down at my paperwork. It was for work and I was using this free time to catch up. It was Bert's idea and I had wanted to mess with it, but John Burke and Manny ganged up on me in the hall one day and made me promise to behave. The forms were to keep an eye on who was raising what, and if there were any problems. I caved, but only because Manny had that disappointed look on his face.
I was lost in thought when my cell phone rang. The screen on the device told me that it was someone at the Circus of the Damned, I hit the talk button before it rang again and woke Harry up. "Hello?" I said into the phone, as I got up and walked to the other side of the kitchen to get a bit of privacy.
"Are you all right, ma petite?" Jean-Claude asked, his voice like warm velvet even over the phone.
I shrugged, even knowing he couldn't see it. "Yeah, it's all good. What's up?" What I mean was, why was he calling. He usually left me alone on the night of the full moon, because more often than not I was buried in problems up to my ass. Like tonight.
He was quiet for a second. “Wicked Truth are back from the barn ma petite.”
I waited for him to continue, when I realized he was doing that silent vampire thing I started to get mad.
“Is there something you wanted to tell me, or did you call just to listen to me breath?”
Jean-Claude’s laugh was like warm water washing over my body. “Oui, I could listen to you breathing all night long my sweet, but that is not why I call.”
That was the frustrating thing about vampires. They always seem to take their fine time to tell you anything. You would almost think they had all the time in the world.
“Wicked Truth have returned from the barn, the vampires there were not from St. Louis, so once we trace the rental truck they were using I will be in contact with the Master of the city they came from and see if I can find out anything more about this….operation.”
I had the feeling that this wasn’t the real reason Jean-Claude had called and then I realized that the marks between us were not fully closed. “What else Jean-Claude?”
He paused again, but before I could say anything he continued. “It seems that everyone has been accounted for except the…. star.. of the show, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about it. Our Richard swears none of his wolves are responsible. It would be a problem if rogue vampires from another city still have him in my city.”
I understood. He was talking about Harry. "You don't have to worry. It's all under control."
"Am I to understand that you are with the little lamb?" There was a hint of something in Jean-Claude's voice.
It took me a second to clue into what he was talking about. "Yeah, he ended up in the back of my Jeep, I cleaned him up and we stopped to get a bite to eat." I didn't feel like going into details, and there was something else about what had happened last night that I should be more upset about, but every time I tried to think about it..... it seemed to slip away.
But before I could pin it down. Jean Claude sighed, the way he did when he was exasperated with me. I'd been hearing that a lot recently. "I take it that you do not need any of us to attend you?" Which was his way of asking if I needed any protection. Geeze, I appreciated the chivalry, but it was only a kid, and he was out like a light.
A picture grew in my head. Jean-Claude was sitting in his office in Guilty Pleasures, his feet up on the corner of the desk. He was smiling slightly, probably pleased at freaking me out.
So the little lamb is lying on your couch. Would you be terribly upset if I were to ask you a question?
Probably, but has that ever stopped you? I thought. I wasn't very good at this. I still preferred a phone conversation to one in my head.
A mental chuckle. Why do you trust this boy? This witch?
I dropped my pen. I just do. My instincts aren't often wrong, and there is something about him.
Is it also possible that you are doing this for Richard? came the quiet thought.
How so? I asked. Through the open archway in the kitchen, I could just see Harry's feet sticking out of the end of the blanket.
The boy's injuries occured on the same location as many others you protect, and we know Richard will feel responsible for what has happened on his property. You know what that will do to him. Jean-Claude paused again. Do you keep the boy safe as one less worry for your Ulfric?
I thought about it for a while. The house was silent. My sigh sounded very loud. Maybe.
Jean-Claude withdrew from my head with one last thought. Take care of yourself, ma petite. Je t'aime.
"I know," I whispered to the empty air. Then I hung up the phone and went back to my paperwork.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Something was nuzzling against my cheek. I ducked my head further into the pillow. Then something touched my hair, stroking my head and drawing me back to consciousness. I relaxed and moved my shoulders, then wondered who was touching me in the daylight with only Harry in the house and Damian dead in the basement. I snapped my eyes open.
Micah was leaning over me, naked as far as I could see and his hair hanging in his face. He gave me a lazy grin. "I was wondering if I would have to resort to licking you to get you awake."
"When I know there are other things you'd rather be doing with your tongue?" I mumbled, the thread of adrenalin gone now.
"Sort of," Micah said, drawing me back to the present. "Actually, I wanted to know who the new houseguest is."
"Is he awake?" I asked, sitting up on the bed. Yes, Micah was indeed naked. I swallowed the ardeur hard; none of the wereleopards were ever up to much the day after a full moon, pardon the pun.
"No, he's asleep. Why is he here?"
I sighed. "It's a really, really long story."
Micah raised his eyebrows at me. "Cliff notes version?"
I thought for a second. "Kid gets picked up by vampire’s servant,” I was stopped by Michah’s startled expression. “Relax, it was a renfield not a human servant.” I could feel the tension bleed away from Micah. Unlike a human servant who gains strength and some of the master vampire’s abilities a renfield was nothing more than a puppet the vampire controlled. “Anyway, the renfield drugs the kid with the idea of using him as the main course in vamp feeding film being shot at Riana’s old barn. Richard and I interrupt, During the furry mayhem the kid crawls into the back of the Jeep. I find him, bandage him up, take him for food, find out there's a bad witch after him and since he won't be allowed back in his hotel room, I let him sleep on the couch. I made Damian watch him for a bit so that I could get to sleep." I had wondered if that last bit was a good idea, but when I had gone downstairs to try and explain the situation to Damian he surprised me by offering to watch Harry, and I was tired enough to accept and hope Harry didn’t wake up while I got some rest.
There was something else about this that didn’t add up but I couldn't remember what it was.
Micah shook his head and ran his hands through his hair the way he did when he was worried. "I always used to wonder if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time or what. Now I think that it's that you say yes when the rest of us would say no."
I frowned. "Micah, he's just a kid, and he was hurt."
“A vampire feeding film?” Micah hesitated
I sighed as I slid off the bed. "Yeah, I don’t think Richard realize the barn was still set up as a studio," I said as I started to get dressed. I got tangled up in the shirt I was trying to pull over my head, and felt rather than saw Micah's hands straightening me out. His eyes, yellow-green cat's eyes, were tired.
"He's not going to be happy about that," he said, then gave me a gentle kiss.
"Nope," I agreed once Micah drew back. I gave him a nudge toward the bed. "Get some sleep, I'm going to take Harry back to his guardians and see what they're like."
I turned my back as Micah flopped down onto the sheets, and headed for the living room. All the little wereleopards were all a-snooze in their beds, or so I thought until I rounded the corner to the living room. Harry was still lying on the couch where I had left him earlier. Nathaniel was kneeling by the couch, staring intently at the strange boy in the house.
I stood still by the wall and watched. The concentration on Nathaniel's face was complete, as if he could memorize Harry as he slept. Soon, a few seconds or a few minutes, Harry's eyes fluttered open. He met Nathaniel's gaze, then Harry’s eyes flew open and he tried to jump backwards. This just caused him to bounce off the back of the couch, and because he was wrapped up in the blanket he rolled off the couch and landed on the floor with an indignant squawk. At the same time Nathaniel had leapt away with the grace of a cat. Well, it was graceful until he ran into the shelf that held all of our DVDs, sending them flying in every direction. The sudden noise behind him caused Nathaniel to leap in to the air just as Harry hit the floor. In the end, Nathaniel was left crouching on the living room chair like a frighened house cat, his lilac colored eyes open wide with something between trepidation and disbelief, Harry was rolling around on the floor trying to get untangled from the blanket, his face flushed with embarrassment. For a moment I just stood there with my hands up by my face. Before I could stop myself I started to laugh. It started small, a little giggle that snuck past my lips and sounded more like a raspberry. But then more laughter seemed to bubble up from inside me. I clapped my hands over my mouth, I didn’t want to wake up the entire house but I could not stop laughing. The look on both of their faces just did me in. My sides began to hurt as I watched Nathaniel get down off the chair and help Harry untangle himself from the blanket. Gasping for breath I barely managed to say. "Morning, Harry," tears were blurring my vision "I see you've met Nathaniel."
Nathaniel looked at me, his jaw hanging open like I have grown another head. “Anita? are you ok, did something happen to you last night?” He looked at me suspiciously.
Harry tried to get up off the floor and I could see him wince as got to his feet.
That brought me up short and my laughter seemed to die as quickly as it started. “No Nathaniel, nothing happened to me last night, but Harry here is another story.”
Why did Nathaniel think something happened to me? Is it really so strange that I laughed at Nathaniel and Harry’s Laurel and Hardy impersonation?
Harry fumbled for his glasses, then he carefully reached down and picked blanket up off the floor and began to neatly fold it. Nathaniel turned his attention back to Harry, watching him intently as he placed the now folded blanket on the couch.
There was something going on here, and I didn't understand. When in doubt, ignore it. "Harry, we should get you back to your guardians." I was about to say that Nathaniel needed his sleep, but I was so not his mother and I managed to hold my tongue.
"All right," Harry said. He kept looking back at Nathaniel who, I noticed, wasn't wearing an awful lot. His long auburn hair was down and his hands were hanging loosely at his sides, thank god he was wearing shorts, Whew.
"I'm going to get some sleep," Nathaniel said quietly, looking at me. There was something in his eyes, a question that I didn't get. He must have seen my incomprehension, for he turned back to Harry. "It was nice to meet you," he said.
"It was nice to meet you as well," Harry said, his accent very clear. I watched Harry as Harry watched Nathaniel walk out of the room.
"How are you feeling?" I asked, crossing my arms over my stomach.
"Fine, fine," he mumbled, although the shrug that accompanied the words would have been more effective if he had been able to turn his head to look at me. "It'll heal."
My eyebrows went up. "Does this sort of thing happen to you often?" I asked. He stared at me, a weight in his bearing that had nothing to do with age.
"Not this sort of thing, per say, but I do manage to get myself into interesting situations," he explained. He bit his lip as he said it, a nervous gesture.
"I know the feeling," I said. He stiffened but did not comment. "So, to the hotel?"
You would have thought that I was offering him up to a firing squad, from the way he reacted. He nodded and stood. There was something in the way he held himself, like he expected to be hit. I filed his reaction to the back of my mind and turned toward the kitchen, Harry at my heels.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We didn't leave right away. I made myself swallow some breakfast, and pointed Harry in the direction of the cereal while I was at it, then I had to return a call to Bert while Harry washed up. I managed to prevent myself from screaming over the phone, as the house was full of sleeping wereleopards and one vampire, although I've never found that a simple screaming match could wake either flavor of creature the day after a full moon.
We drove into town with the windows down and the radio on low. Harry stared out the window, watching the buildings pass in the bright summer sun. I kept my eyes on the road, wondering what I was going to tell his guardians about what I had done with their nephew the previous night. I was thinking about why I hadn't made the kid call his aunt and uncle when he said, "Nathaniel seemed very nice. What does he do?"
"How do you mean?" I asked, a bit on guard. After all, Nathaniel was tied to me in so many ways, being my pomme de sang, part of my pard, boyfriend, a third of my other triumvirate, and whatever the hell else it was that we had going on.
"You know, Why was he at your house?" Harry replied, a careful tone in his voice.
Even though I had only known the boy for twelve hours, I actually considered telling him the truth. Then I shook that impulse off. "He's my roommate. He works nights at a club downtown," I said. The omissions were larger than the truth, of course, but it was nice and PG-rated for teenage-consumption.
"Oh," Harry said, almost too quietly to hear, then he closed his mouth and went back to looking out the window.
Thanks to Watersprite99 for her super beta skills
JKR and LKH got the ball rolling and own it all
Changing the plot,
From now on;
My words are in Black
Mhalachia’s works are in Blue!.. easier on me that way.. we will be seeing less blue words from now on.
Chapter 4: Be careful what you wish for.
The ride home had been in relative silence, the reality of the situation was starting to sink in. It looked like the kid was thinking about what had happened to him tonight and I was guessing by the look on his face it wasn’t pleasant. As I opened the front door I decided that the best thing would be to keep my mouth shut and let the kid work things out for himself.
"Here it is," I said as I turned on the hallway lights. Harry blinked at the sudden brightness.
"This is a nice place, Ms. Blake," he said as he stepped inside.
"Thanks, but I can't take any of the credit." I closed and dead-bolted the door behind me. "The guys decorated. And clean. I just pay the bills."
Harry didn’t say anything and when I looked back at him he was staring into the darkened living room, at what I couldn’t tell. For just a moment I panicked wondering if someone had left something inappropriate on the coffee table. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized that Harry had just zoned out-- the kid was asleep on his feet.
“Earth to Harry, come in Harry.” I snapped my fingers in front of his face.
“Oh, sorry…” a red flush started to creep up Harry’s neck and color his ears, “I guess I drifted off there for a bit.” The end of the sentence was swallowed by a huge yawn.
I couldn't help myself. I smiled. "Do you want to take a shower, then? It would get rid of the rest of the blood and then we can find you a place to get some shut eye."
Suddenly serious, Harry looked full at me. It was as if he was trying to read my aura, but I couldn't feel anything. Then the movement was over, and Harry relaxed. "I don't mean to be any trouble..." he said.
I felt a rush of amusement that wasn't my own, and realized that Jean-Claude was paying attention to me. I thought annoyed thoughts at him, but didn't close the marks. "Believe me, if you're being troublesome, I'll tell you."
I ended up showing him the bathroom, where the towels were, and left him to it. I watched as he closed the door, and only then did I go back to the kitchen. If the door opened, I would be able to hear it.
I didn't bother to grind any coffee beans. Nathaniel had messed up the grocery list a few weeks ago and had gotten a pound of pre-ground coffee. He was so distressed when he realized what happened that I'd had to promise him that it was all right, and drink this stuff. Not that it was bad, just that the usual ritual I went though was gone. But I hadn't wanted to upset Nathaniel anymore. When he was unhappy, I was unhappy. And when I was unhappy, trust me, everyone was unhappy.
The coffee was brewing and the shower still running when I heard the front door open. My senses alert, I stood up and padded my way to the edge of the kitchen. The front door closed again, and I heard the locks clicking.
A pause, then, "It's just me, Anita," Damian said. “Damn it!” I thought. "The last thing I need is for Harry to come out and find a vampire in the house, what the hell is Damian doing home this early anyway?”
“What's going on?” I snapped “I thought you were working tonight?”
That brought Damian up short, and he held his hand in front of himself as if to ward off a blow. I looked down and saw that my hands were curled into fists and the rest of my body was wound up like a spring.
I let the tension relax out of my shoulders and went back to lean against the kitchen island.
Damian licked his lips and just looked at me and in a quiet voice he said. "I was at work. Things were going as usual until a very drunk customer brought the new fountain display down on me and someone I was dancing with."
I winced. Jean-Claude had installed a wrought-iron fountain that was backlit with lights and stuff. It looked very nice at Danse Macabre, when the whole lighting system was going. But the apparatus must have weighed more than I did.
"Is the girl you were dancing with okay?" I asked.
I tried to act as if I cared about what had happened at the club, all the while trying to listen and hear if the shower had shut off yet, I needed to get Damian downstairs before Harry came out. I didn’t know if he could sense the undead, and I didn’t want a strange witch --- no he insisted he was a wizard -- freaking out in my kitchen.
"Yes. I caught the fountain before it hit either of us, but we were soaked in the process. Hannah spent half an hour apologizing to the girl, promised to pay for her dry cleaning and offering her a free night, that sort of thing," Damian explained. His tone made it very clear what he thought of modern customer service.
"And you?" I asked, coming to stand in front of him. I knew he was fine, otherwise I could have felt it, but I knew he would like to be asked.
He looked down at me, so solemn. "Other than a good dousing, I am fine. Hannah let me come home early as my costume was ruined."
The compulsion I had to touch Damian was so strong that it was hard to breathe. I knew he was my vampire servant, a third of my second triumvirate with Nathaniel, that it was my magic that made his heart beat, but acting like it was always so damn hard.
Damn it, I didn’t have time for this. The sound of the running water had stopped. I didn’t want to hurt Damian’s feelings, but I didn’t have time to touch him in the way that he wanted to be touched. I couldn’t lie to myself and say that I didn’t want to touch him too, but Harry would be walking out of the bathroom any minute now. Talk about freaking the kid out.
“Look” I said pausing to take a sip of coffee and try and figure out a way to get Damian to go into the basement without a fuss. “I need a favor, I need you to go downstairs for a while.”
“Why?” Damian looked at me, I saw his eyes flicker towards the bathroom. “Who did you bring home?” There was a hurt look on his face.
It only took me a second to put two and two together and less than a second after that to almost lose it.
Through clenched teeth I hissed. “Not that it is ANY of your business who I bring home but, I picked up a kid who was bitten up pretty bad tonight, SO I thought it wouldn’t be the best thing for him walk into the friggin kitchen and bump into another vampire!”
"Since when do you bring home the newly wounded?" Damian asked. He moved around the kitchen like a ghost.
"I don't feel like justifying myself to you," I snapped.
Damian stared at me. "All I asked was why you had done this. I live here too, it's a legitimate question."
Luckily, the sound of the bathroom door opening saved me from continuing this conversation with Damian. He was gone without a word, down the basement stairs with a speed that only the undead possessed. The basement door closed as Harry walked into the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway, a guarded look on his face.
“Sorry, I though I head another voice, was I interrupting?”
I took another calming sip of coffee. “You just missed Damian, he just got home from work.” I gave Harry a weak smile. “His room is in the basement.” I said it as though that was the most normal thing in the world.
“Oh” was all Harry said as he stared at the basement door. He was wearing the shirt I had given him in the car and the same jeans. It was too bad no one in the house would have clothes that would fit him. Micah and I were too small, same with Nathaniel, and Damian was way too tall.
Harry turned and looked at me with those big green eyes of his. “Is my staying here causing a problem? I don’t want to be a bother.”
“I told you, no problem kiddo.” Harry frowned at the kiddo reference as I tried to lighten things up. “Damian was just dead tired…..” I stopped and realized I had just made a stupid pun. I wondered if Damian had been listening. I swallowed half the cup of coffee in one go, wishing it would take away the beginnings of my headache. I didn’t want to treat Damian like some kind of joke. He didn't complain, but I always felt like the bad guy after situations like this. I wish, for once, that I had the time to explain things to him.
"Speaking of which, you look dead on your feet.” Oh crap, I was just digging myself deeper and deeper. I needed to cut my losses and get the hell out of the kitchen. “How about that sleep thing, then?" I asked after I set the mug down.
Harry nodded. "That sounds nice. Sleep would be nice."
I mentally kicked myself as I showed Harry the couch and got him a pillow and blanket from the linen closet. It was the middle of summer, so he probably wouldn't need it, but just in case.
"If you need anything, just knock," I said. Harry nodded and sat on the couch. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine, I guess." He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Maybe it will seem more important in the morning, but right now is seems unreal."
I knew that feeling. "We'll talk tomorrow," I said as I switched off the overhead light. I left Harry sitting, staring at the floor, in a small well of pale light from a tiny lamp.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry reached over and turned off the lamp. He was tired, the healing and notice-me-not charms he had cast earlier had taken a lot out of him. As he tried to get comfortable Harry though about Anita and all that had happened in the last few hours. It was all so normal here. Not normal how Harry knew normal. If he were back at the Dursleys, he'd be up in his room or out roaming the streets of Little Whinging. No one would have cleaned him up, or offered to buy him whatever he wanted for dinner. He sat up and put his glasses back on.
Harry looked toward the kitchen. Anita was sitting at the table, bent over some papers, concentrating. Harry just looked at her for a moment. Her hair was dark, so dark, and it was almost as wild as Hermione's, but her skin was as pale as his was in the winter.
Harry shook his head, willing his hormones to calm down. Suddenly Harry’s thoughts were brought back to what had happened in the barn. What would Cho or anyone else for that matter think? He tried to push the memories away, like he had done with Cedric or Sirius or any of the other lousy things that had happened in his life.
Harry had tried not to look as he took his shower- not to feel the sting of the water and soap in the bites. He had just wanted to relish the warmth of the water coursing down his body and forget. Forget the barn. Forget the vampires. Forget that the Dursely’s were complete and utter bastards… Maybe even that this wasn’t his home and that the nice woman in the kitchen hadn’t just been nice to him for no reason.
He had wanted her to say something other than ‘just because.’ Everyone wanted something from him. Things would have been a lot simpler if she had just told him outright what it was, because life had taught him no one ever did something for nothing. Even the guy that had picked him up had wanted something. Why’d she have to lie to him?
Harry wrapped the blanket tighter about himself as he tried to suppress a shudder- vaguely he realized that it was a constant shiver that just wouldn’t stop. It wasn’t like he’d have been able to do anything to stop her, not that he would want to anyway…At that thought ice water practically settled into his marrow and filled his veins. He was terrified, for some strange reason he’d never be warm again. That he’d never forget the feel their hands, the burning touch that made him itch and feel dirty at the same time… of what would happen if the feel of Anita’s soft hands replaced the rough hands of those vampires-would he still feel dirty even after or because of it?
Harry shifted on the couch, the weight on his hip changed from right to left. He bit back an exclamation at the pain.
Why did this have to happen, isn't my life crummy enough already. Harry had to stifle a sudden laugh when he realized he had spent most of the summer wishing for something, anything that would take his mind off of what had happened at the Ministry of Magic. Harry guessed in the future he should be more careful about what he wished for.
From the kitchen, Anita muttered something about paper, and the chair moved over the floor.
Harry sighed and adjusted the pillow so his neck wasn’t bent at an angle. This not thinking about anything was hard.
What to think about that didn't mean anything... Harry's mind lit upon the Dursleys. It was all their fault that Harry was even here in Saint Louis. Uncle Vernon had been incensed when the family's planned trip to London had been bumped due to a vampire event. The man couldn't even use the word vampire without risking apoplexy.
Harry didn't understand much of what was going on. Apparently, the muggle government in England had recognized vampires as legal a few years before, but Harry had been in school at the time, and the ensuing months in Surrey had been so focused on Voldemort that Harry hadn't paid much attention.
But legal vampires... the wizarding world had been ignoring the muggle press, what with Voldemort's return. What Harry didn't understand is why the Daily Prophet hadn't picked up on the news, made it a big deal.
Fit to be tied about the situation in England, Uncle Vernon had booked a flight to America. They had even dragged Harry along, but Harry suspected that was partly due to fear of having the house destroyed if they left him there. Harry had gone so far as suggesting that the Dursleys contact the Weasleys, leave Harry in England, but Petunia had looked down her nose at her nephew and coldly reminded him that he was going to remain with them for at least a month.
So off to America they went.
Harry's mind stalled on thoughts of that evening, and he pushed them away. He did not want to think about the barn or waking up with the lights shining in his eyes and falling, falling into the vampire’s gaze. The feeling of fangs piercing his flesh… that was what had helped him break the trance he was under, hands on his body...NO! and then a flash of raw power.
His thoughts started to drift around in circles. Somewhere in all of the mess that was his memories, he drifted off into a fitful sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I checked my cell phone for the fifteenth time. The thing was powered up, with good reception. So why had no one called? It was the night of the full moon. There had not been a full moon in eight months when someone had not called me, due to some sort of lycanthropic or vampiric emergency.
On those days when someone did call, I always bitched and moaned and was unhappy. Now here I was, bitching that no one was calling. Talk about never being satisfied.
The cell phone went back onto the table and I stared down at my paperwork. It was for work and I was using this free time to catch up. It was Bert's idea and I had wanted to mess with it, but John Burke and Manny ganged up on me in the hall one day and made me promise to behave. The forms were to keep an eye on who was raising what, and if there were any problems. I caved, but only because Manny had that disappointed look on his face.
I was lost in thought when my cell phone rang. The screen on the device told me that it was someone at the Circus of the Damned, I hit the talk button before it rang again and woke Harry up. "Hello?" I said into the phone, as I got up and walked to the other side of the kitchen to get a bit of privacy.
"Are you all right, ma petite?" Jean-Claude asked, his voice like warm velvet even over the phone.
I shrugged, even knowing he couldn't see it. "Yeah, it's all good. What's up?" What I mean was, why was he calling. He usually left me alone on the night of the full moon, because more often than not I was buried in problems up to my ass. Like tonight.
He was quiet for a second. “Wicked Truth are back from the barn ma petite.”
I waited for him to continue, when I realized he was doing that silent vampire thing I started to get mad.
“Is there something you wanted to tell me, or did you call just to listen to me breath?”
Jean-Claude’s laugh was like warm water washing over my body. “Oui, I could listen to you breathing all night long my sweet, but that is not why I call.”
That was the frustrating thing about vampires. They always seem to take their fine time to tell you anything. You would almost think they had all the time in the world.
“Wicked Truth have returned from the barn, the vampires there were not from St. Louis, so once we trace the rental truck they were using I will be in contact with the Master of the city they came from and see if I can find out anything more about this….operation.”
I had the feeling that this wasn’t the real reason Jean-Claude had called and then I realized that the marks between us were not fully closed. “What else Jean-Claude?”
He paused again, but before I could say anything he continued. “It seems that everyone has been accounted for except the…. star.. of the show, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about it. Our Richard swears none of his wolves are responsible. It would be a problem if rogue vampires from another city still have him in my city.”
I understood. He was talking about Harry. "You don't have to worry. It's all under control."
"Am I to understand that you are with the little lamb?" There was a hint of something in Jean-Claude's voice.
It took me a second to clue into what he was talking about. "Yeah, he ended up in the back of my Jeep, I cleaned him up and we stopped to get a bite to eat." I didn't feel like going into details, and there was something else about what had happened last night that I should be more upset about, but every time I tried to think about it..... it seemed to slip away.
But before I could pin it down. Jean Claude sighed, the way he did when he was exasperated with me. I'd been hearing that a lot recently. "I take it that you do not need any of us to attend you?" Which was his way of asking if I needed any protection. Geeze, I appreciated the chivalry, but it was only a kid, and he was out like a light.
A picture grew in my head. Jean-Claude was sitting in his office in Guilty Pleasures, his feet up on the corner of the desk. He was smiling slightly, probably pleased at freaking me out.
So the little lamb is lying on your couch. Would you be terribly upset if I were to ask you a question?
Probably, but has that ever stopped you? I thought. I wasn't very good at this. I still preferred a phone conversation to one in my head.
A mental chuckle. Why do you trust this boy? This witch?
I dropped my pen. I just do. My instincts aren't often wrong, and there is something about him.
Is it also possible that you are doing this for Richard? came the quiet thought.
How so? I asked. Through the open archway in the kitchen, I could just see Harry's feet sticking out of the end of the blanket.
The boy's injuries occured on the same location as many others you protect, and we know Richard will feel responsible for what has happened on his property. You know what that will do to him. Jean-Claude paused again. Do you keep the boy safe as one less worry for your Ulfric?
I thought about it for a while. The house was silent. My sigh sounded very loud. Maybe.
Jean-Claude withdrew from my head with one last thought. Take care of yourself, ma petite. Je t'aime.
"I know," I whispered to the empty air. Then I hung up the phone and went back to my paperwork.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Something was nuzzling against my cheek. I ducked my head further into the pillow. Then something touched my hair, stroking my head and drawing me back to consciousness. I relaxed and moved my shoulders, then wondered who was touching me in the daylight with only Harry in the house and Damian dead in the basement. I snapped my eyes open.
Micah was leaning over me, naked as far as I could see and his hair hanging in his face. He gave me a lazy grin. "I was wondering if I would have to resort to licking you to get you awake."
"When I know there are other things you'd rather be doing with your tongue?" I mumbled, the thread of adrenalin gone now.
"Sort of," Micah said, drawing me back to the present. "Actually, I wanted to know who the new houseguest is."
"Is he awake?" I asked, sitting up on the bed. Yes, Micah was indeed naked. I swallowed the ardeur hard; none of the wereleopards were ever up to much the day after a full moon, pardon the pun.
"No, he's asleep. Why is he here?"
I sighed. "It's a really, really long story."
Micah raised his eyebrows at me. "Cliff notes version?"
I thought for a second. "Kid gets picked up by vampire’s servant,” I was stopped by Michah’s startled expression. “Relax, it was a renfield not a human servant.” I could feel the tension bleed away from Micah. Unlike a human servant who gains strength and some of the master vampire’s abilities a renfield was nothing more than a puppet the vampire controlled. “Anyway, the renfield drugs the kid with the idea of using him as the main course in vamp feeding film being shot at Riana’s old barn. Richard and I interrupt, During the furry mayhem the kid crawls into the back of the Jeep. I find him, bandage him up, take him for food, find out there's a bad witch after him and since he won't be allowed back in his hotel room, I let him sleep on the couch. I made Damian watch him for a bit so that I could get to sleep." I had wondered if that last bit was a good idea, but when I had gone downstairs to try and explain the situation to Damian he surprised me by offering to watch Harry, and I was tired enough to accept and hope Harry didn’t wake up while I got some rest.
There was something else about this that didn’t add up but I couldn't remember what it was.
Micah shook his head and ran his hands through his hair the way he did when he was worried. "I always used to wonder if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time or what. Now I think that it's that you say yes when the rest of us would say no."
I frowned. "Micah, he's just a kid, and he was hurt."
“A vampire feeding film?” Micah hesitated
I sighed as I slid off the bed. "Yeah, I don’t think Richard realize the barn was still set up as a studio," I said as I started to get dressed. I got tangled up in the shirt I was trying to pull over my head, and felt rather than saw Micah's hands straightening me out. His eyes, yellow-green cat's eyes, were tired.
"He's not going to be happy about that," he said, then gave me a gentle kiss.
"Nope," I agreed once Micah drew back. I gave him a nudge toward the bed. "Get some sleep, I'm going to take Harry back to his guardians and see what they're like."
I turned my back as Micah flopped down onto the sheets, and headed for the living room. All the little wereleopards were all a-snooze in their beds, or so I thought until I rounded the corner to the living room. Harry was still lying on the couch where I had left him earlier. Nathaniel was kneeling by the couch, staring intently at the strange boy in the house.
I stood still by the wall and watched. The concentration on Nathaniel's face was complete, as if he could memorize Harry as he slept. Soon, a few seconds or a few minutes, Harry's eyes fluttered open. He met Nathaniel's gaze, then Harry’s eyes flew open and he tried to jump backwards. This just caused him to bounce off the back of the couch, and because he was wrapped up in the blanket he rolled off the couch and landed on the floor with an indignant squawk. At the same time Nathaniel had leapt away with the grace of a cat. Well, it was graceful until he ran into the shelf that held all of our DVDs, sending them flying in every direction. The sudden noise behind him caused Nathaniel to leap in to the air just as Harry hit the floor. In the end, Nathaniel was left crouching on the living room chair like a frighened house cat, his lilac colored eyes open wide with something between trepidation and disbelief, Harry was rolling around on the floor trying to get untangled from the blanket, his face flushed with embarrassment. For a moment I just stood there with my hands up by my face. Before I could stop myself I started to laugh. It started small, a little giggle that snuck past my lips and sounded more like a raspberry. But then more laughter seemed to bubble up from inside me. I clapped my hands over my mouth, I didn’t want to wake up the entire house but I could not stop laughing. The look on both of their faces just did me in. My sides began to hurt as I watched Nathaniel get down off the chair and help Harry untangle himself from the blanket. Gasping for breath I barely managed to say. "Morning, Harry," tears were blurring my vision "I see you've met Nathaniel."
Nathaniel looked at me, his jaw hanging open like I have grown another head. “Anita? are you ok, did something happen to you last night?” He looked at me suspiciously.
Harry tried to get up off the floor and I could see him wince as got to his feet.
That brought me up short and my laughter seemed to die as quickly as it started. “No Nathaniel, nothing happened to me last night, but Harry here is another story.”
Why did Nathaniel think something happened to me? Is it really so strange that I laughed at Nathaniel and Harry’s Laurel and Hardy impersonation?
Harry fumbled for his glasses, then he carefully reached down and picked blanket up off the floor and began to neatly fold it. Nathaniel turned his attention back to Harry, watching him intently as he placed the now folded blanket on the couch.
There was something going on here, and I didn't understand. When in doubt, ignore it. "Harry, we should get you back to your guardians." I was about to say that Nathaniel needed his sleep, but I was so not his mother and I managed to hold my tongue.
"All right," Harry said. He kept looking back at Nathaniel who, I noticed, wasn't wearing an awful lot. His long auburn hair was down and his hands were hanging loosely at his sides, thank god he was wearing shorts, Whew.
"I'm going to get some sleep," Nathaniel said quietly, looking at me. There was something in his eyes, a question that I didn't get. He must have seen my incomprehension, for he turned back to Harry. "It was nice to meet you," he said.
"It was nice to meet you as well," Harry said, his accent very clear. I watched Harry as Harry watched Nathaniel walk out of the room.
"How are you feeling?" I asked, crossing my arms over my stomach.
"Fine, fine," he mumbled, although the shrug that accompanied the words would have been more effective if he had been able to turn his head to look at me. "It'll heal."
My eyebrows went up. "Does this sort of thing happen to you often?" I asked. He stared at me, a weight in his bearing that had nothing to do with age.
"Not this sort of thing, per say, but I do manage to get myself into interesting situations," he explained. He bit his lip as he said it, a nervous gesture.
"I know the feeling," I said. He stiffened but did not comment. "So, to the hotel?"
You would have thought that I was offering him up to a firing squad, from the way he reacted. He nodded and stood. There was something in the way he held himself, like he expected to be hit. I filed his reaction to the back of my mind and turned toward the kitchen, Harry at my heels.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We didn't leave right away. I made myself swallow some breakfast, and pointed Harry in the direction of the cereal while I was at it, then I had to return a call to Bert while Harry washed up. I managed to prevent myself from screaming over the phone, as the house was full of sleeping wereleopards and one vampire, although I've never found that a simple screaming match could wake either flavor of creature the day after a full moon.
We drove into town with the windows down and the radio on low. Harry stared out the window, watching the buildings pass in the bright summer sun. I kept my eyes on the road, wondering what I was going to tell his guardians about what I had done with their nephew the previous night. I was thinking about why I hadn't made the kid call his aunt and uncle when he said, "Nathaniel seemed very nice. What does he do?"
"How do you mean?" I asked, a bit on guard. After all, Nathaniel was tied to me in so many ways, being my pomme de sang, part of my pard, boyfriend, a third of my other triumvirate, and whatever the hell else it was that we had going on.
"You know, Why was he at your house?" Harry replied, a careful tone in his voice.
Even though I had only known the boy for twelve hours, I actually considered telling him the truth. Then I shook that impulse off. "He's my roommate. He works nights at a club downtown," I said. The omissions were larger than the truth, of course, but it was nice and PG-rated for teenage-consumption.
"Oh," Harry said, almost too quietly to hear, then he closed his mouth and went back to looking out the window.