17. Cherchez la Femme

Iawoke hours later to the sound of soft voices speaking far away. Turning my head, I found Clive, Russell, and Godfrey deep in a conversation so quiet, even I couldn't make out their words. My heartbeat must have changed because they turned as one. If I didn't like them all so much, it would have been terrifying.

"She lives," Godfrey joked.

A moment later, Clive was sitting on the edge of the window seat, his hand on my forehead. "No fever. How are you feeling?"

Testing, I moved and flexed, finding sore spots. "Mostly fine. Collarbone still hurts. Shoulder feels fine. Head's not quite back to normal, but no more than a headache. I'm okay."

Leaning over, he kissed me. Soft, gentle, its own kind of healing, the kiss quickly changed from sickbed to boudoir. It was some time later, when we were plastered against each other, that I remembered we had an audience.

Pushing him away, my face no doubt flaming, I searched the library for the men. "Where did they go?"

"I sent them away."

Smiling, I brushed my fingertips down his perfect jaw. "Oh." His lips were on mine again, and I lost all thought until coming up for breath again. This time I was on top of him, staring down into his stormy gray eyes.

"There's no wall. Anyone could walk by and see us."

"Not when they've been ordered away." His gaze was heated as he dragged his hands down my back before landing on my butt. "Which they have been."

Straddling him in my yoga pants, I gave one quick grind that had him groaning. His hands went up my hoodie and found my breasts, no bra in his way, as I hadn't wanted to deal with one earlier. When his thumbs flicked my nipples, I came close to throwing off my clothes and yanking down his pants, but there was no way I was going to get naked in such an exposed place.

I put my hands over his, stilling them. "Upstairs. Not out in the open like this."

He opened his mouth to counter that and then really looked at me. "Of course." He gathered me up and then all but flew up the stairs to our bedroom. I'd made a lot of progress since the attack. I loved and trusted Clive. I could bare myself and be intimate with him. I had not, however, come so far as to be exposed and vulnerable with others around. The fear would have kept me fighting off nausea and distracted from everything he was doing.

Once we were alone, behind closed doors, the tenor of our lovemaking changed. The silly, grappling speed downstairs had morphed into long, healing strokes upstairs. Our clothes dropped to the floor as he walked me backward to the bed.

By the time we hit the sheets, some of the silliness and urgency had returned. He could always do this, heal and inflame with a kiss, a caress. When his fangs slid down my throat, I'd shaken off the unease. Rolling us over, I straddled him again, grinding down the length of him, desperate.

Fingers entwined with his, I braced, changed positions, and took him in, made him a part of me, of us. We found our rhythm quickly and when his hands were on me again, I was flying. Still in the throes, he rolled us back over, hammering hard and fast, taking us both over.

He rolled off and I snuggled in. "Wait. If everyone can hear my heartbeat, does that mean they all know when we—ah, fuck it."

"There's the right attitude." He grinned, his hand possessively on my hip.

"So, what was the deep conversation I interrupted?"

"Hmm?" His hand lazily stroked my back. "Oh, we were discussing the bomber. She's no one important on her own. She's not behind Amélie's scheme in New Orleans or this. No. She's working for someone."

"Lots of women," I mused.

Clive stilled. "What do you mean?"

I glanced up at his very intent expression. "Just thinking. I mean, we started with Leticia, then Amélie, then possibly Liang, now—what's this one's name?"

"Anne."

"Right. Now Anne. I mean, look around your own nocturne. There aren't many female vampires. Is your nocturne different from other ones? Do you just have an unusually large number of men here?"

"No. There are more male vampires than female. It's similar to the gender disparity in werewolves."

"Okay, pushing aside the fact that women are clearly smarter to avoid all the supernatural bullshit, you have a lot of women working together in a plot against you when there are few of them in total. That seems like an important clue to me."

He rolled me over and kissed me soundly. "Brilliant."

Feeling energized and only a little achey, we cleaned up and went back downstairs, where Russell and Godfrey waited in the study. They discussed many women and their possible rationales for plotting, but as I knew none of them, my mind wandered.

"Wouldn't it make more sense to ask a woman?" I interrupted.

All three men stared at me.

"What? You're in here trying to figure out who has it out for you and why. You're men, though, men who have existed for hundreds of years. Chances are, you were oblivious to the initial insult or you brushed it aside, as it was just a woman."

All three had the decency to look uncomfortable.

"Since you're trying to remember or piece together something you probably forgot as soon as it happened, wouldn't it make more sense to ask a woman? You have a whole nocturne of vampires you could tap for info. Why do these discussions only involve the three of you?"

"We had a coup last month, Miss Quinn," Godfrey said simply. "Trust isn't high right now."

"I understand and I know I'm part of the problem." I turned to Clive. "I should just move back to The Slaughtered Lamb. The remodel is complete. My apartment—"

"No."

"You're being stubborn. Do you really want to deal with your own people revolting while you're trying to figure out who's behind the attacks? Your people will settle down if I'm gone."

Clive was about to launch into an argument when Russell spoke first. "I disagree, Miss Quinn. You and the Master will be taking a blood oath soon. It is a sacred ceremony for our people. They need to know that this is permanent. You are joined forevermore. You leaving the nocturne opens up questions about the committed nature of your relationship."

I sat with that for a minute. "Okay." I turned back to Clive. "But just so you know, it was Russell's sound argument that changed my mind, not your ‘No.' I can't tell you how to behave with your nocturne, but you're not allowed to shout commands at me." I gave him my angry squinty eye so he'd know I meant it.

"Apologies." His face relaxed into amusement.

"Uh-huh. Back to the original point. You have some female vamps here; why not just ask them? Or, better yet, have a big house meeting, lay it out—these attacks affect them, too—let them bounce ideas and connections off each other. You won't be any worse off than you are now."

I settled onto the bench by the wall that I always claimed when in these meetings. I liked the positioning. I was to Clive's right. Sitting in front of him meant positioning myself with his underlings, and when you're the Master everyone is an underling. To the side meant I had some share in the power while maintaining my ability to stay aloof if I chose.

All three men sat quietly with varying expressions of disgust.

"What now?"

"That's not our way," Godfrey finally said.

"What's not?" They were killing me.

"Open-air discussions." Russell took over the explanation. "I'm not sure how to explain to one so young. Barring violence, we are extremely long-lived. During those hundreds of years of life, allies and enemies are made and remade. We need to be aware of every possible relationship before we share sensitive information, as that information may end up in an enemy's lap moments later."

"So, you don't trust your people?"

"It isn't trust so much as caution," Russell said. "Any information we share could be deemed important and therefore worth torturing one of our people to get, or even one of those allies I just mentioned. What would Clive do if someone contacted him to say they had you in their possession and, in exchange for your life, they wanted information on Godfrey or myself, information that would directly lead to our true deaths?"

"That's easy. I'd kill the people who took me and we'd all live happily ever after."

Clive swung his chair around, a grin tugging at his lips. "I'd help in any way I could."

"Perfect. I'd have Clive as backup." I folded my legs up on the bench. "I get what you're saying. I do. My point is the reason you have no idea who's attacking you is because you trade in whispers. You keep to the shadows and hoard secrets."

Godfrey scoffed, "Tell us what you really think."

"Not you guys in particular," I assured him. "I meant all vampires."

"Ah." Russell's face broke into a smile. "I feel so much better."

"It's like the kidnapping scenario. How do you win? You don't play by the rules. How about we use a wildcard instead?"

"Not you," Clive said quickly.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "That was dangerously close to the barked ‘No' I just outlawed."

"I don't bark," he ground out.

"In your own vampy way, you do."

"That word."

"Way? That's an odd one to object to. Anyway," I said, rolling my eyes. "No, not me. I don't have anything to do with ancient vampire grudges. How the heck am I supposed to do anything when I only know a handful of you guys?"

"Then what are you suggesting?" Clive asked, more relaxed now that he knew I wasn't planning to swan dive into the middle of a vampire war.

"Don't do what you've always done. All those covert phone calls and veiled conversations, have you gotten any real information from them? No. So why continue to do what doesn't work?"

Godfrey stood abruptly and began to pace.

"I'm not trying to tick you guys off. I'm just offering a different opinion. If I'm gumming up the works, I can head to the Slaughtered Lamb. I still have carts of books to process."

"You misunderstand, Miss Quinn. You're voicing a strategy that Godfrey has been arguing for a while," Russell explained.

"I imagine," Clive began, "it would be extraordinarily frustrating to have us listen to your ideas when we've been ignoring his." He stood and crossed to Godfrey. "I apologize, my friend. I get too set in my ways."

Godfrey took Clive's offered hand and clasped it. "She helps with that."

"That and many other things." Clive shook his head and returned to his seat.

Godfrey remained standing. "We have a secret weapon," he said, gesturing to me. "We hold a group briefing with the whole nocturne. We ask for any input. All the while, she's doing her thing. If we have people who know something but are resistant to say it, she pulls it out of them."

I sat up straight and hugged a pillow to my chest. "Yes! I love this idea."

"Reading all those minds takes a toll on you," Clive said, clearly concerned.

I could feel my face scrunching up in disbelief. "I'll take a nap. Besides," I added, holding up the wicche glass hanging around my neck, "I have a way to avoid the pain now."

"What is that?" Godfrey asked.

"I have secrets, too," I said, dropping the ball back under the neck of my sweater.