23. The Clive Effecttm

Iawoke late in the afternoon, Clive still seated on the couch at my feet. He was out, but he'd stayed with me, a hand wrapped around my calf. Tentatively, I reached up and touched the skin of my throat. It was incredibly sensitive but felt like skin.

The head hammock worked. I didn't appear to have moved while sleeping. When I tried to sit up, I was stiff and sore, but alive and with skin, so win-win. Extricating my leg from Clive's grip proved more difficult than usual, but then I was the one who told him not to let go. I'd meant that I'd wanted a mental tether to my body, but he seemed to have taken me literally.

Giving him a kiss, I stood, moving more gingerly than usual. I picked up the tin Dr. Underfoot had left and made my way to the bathroom.

Terrified at what I'd find, I turned on the light and looked in the mirror. And then pulled open my collar and looked again. The skin of my neck was smooth and scarless. Even the new scar Liam had given me was gone. Getting close to the mirror, I lifted my jaw. Stretching the new skin stung, but I wanted to see what I was dealing with.

My body was covered in scars left from the attack seven years ago. Because of that, I perpetually wore long-sleeved, crew neck tops to cover them. Only a few scars snaked outside the lines of my clothing, a few light traceries peeking out. I'd thought for sure I was going to need to adjust my self-image to include red, rippled skin to my jaw, an illustration of pain continuing its journey to overtake me. Instead, the scarring had been beaten back.

Taking off my pajama top, I studied myself in the mirror. It was odd, almost like I'd been wearing a collar seven years ago. All the scarring stopped at an invisible line. There was a new, thin ridge along the underside of my jaw, old skin meeting new. I could feel the ridge, but when I wasn't tipping my head up, I couldn't see it.

It wasn't that I missed my scars. It was that they were my scars and now they were gone. I'd spent so long obsessing over them, memorizing them, trying to hide them, and now a few inches had been erased, leaving me off-kilter.

Staring in the mirror, I told myself, This is what I look like now. I could have died, but I didn't. I saved myself, and then a dwarf, a wicche, a vampire, and I worked together to heal me. So, this was what I looked like now.

Okay, enough. Pushing out a deep breath, I turned my back on the mirror and finished undressing. A hot shower would help loosen stiff muscles. By the time I'd finished washing and was letting the steaming water pound against the muscles in my back, Clive walked in.

"What are you doing up so early?" Sometimes—okay, often—the man took my breath away. This was one of those times.

Dropping his pajama bottoms, he stepped into the shower with me. "Winter." Taking me in his arms, he kissed me thoroughly before leaning back and checking out my neck. Running a finger lightly down the side, he asked, "Does this hurt?"

I had to fight off a shiver. "Not hurt. It's just really sensitive."

A mischievous light leaped into his eyes. "Is that so?" His hands roamed, enticing and exciting, while his lips dropped soft kisses along the column of my throat. When his fangs barely glanced over my skin, the shiver became a jolt—and he was only getting started.

By the time I staggered out of the shower some time later, my muscles were definitely warm and loose. "Oh! What with naked shower games, I forgot to tell you. I may have found Leticia."

Clive was suddenly standing directly in front of me. "Explain, please."

Stepping back, I secured the towel around me and headed for the closet. "You know that freaks me out when you move so fast."

"You didn't say that a minute ago." He came up behind me and pushed my wet hair aside, dropping kisses along my shoulder.

Clenching low at the mere thought of what he could do, I tried to shake off The Clive Effecttm by gathering random clothes.

"If I'm not mistaken, we promised to meet back here if we survived the attack by the NOLA vampires." When he tugged at my towel and palmed my breasts, the clothes fell from my hands, forgotten.

"I'm pretty sure that was the closet in my room, not yours." Head dropping back to his shoulder, I trembled at his touch. When his fingers found me hot and wet and desperate for him again, I reached back and took him in hand, squeezing.

He walked me over to a small bench, his fingers still exploring, and then pushed my shoulders forward. "Put your arms out and brace yourself."

Bent at the waist, I clutched the cushioned bench, quivering in anticipation. One hand between my legs while the other lay flat against my stomach, he lifted me to my toes and slid in with excruciating slowness. When he slid out even more slowly, my knuckles whitened against the black leather.

"Clive!" If I could, I would have kicked him.

"Yes?" His voice vaguely disinterested as he slid in slower than a glacier. "Problem?"

"Hurry the fuck up!" I was going to kill him. Screw him blind and then kill him.

"Quite literally, yes?"

When I started to laugh, he slammed home hard and fast, turning it into a groan.

Slowly pulling out, he said, "So, you don't always hate it when I move fast."

"I know I've got a stake around here somewhere," I said, starting to stand up.

He pushed my shoulders back down and then showed me exactly how mind blowing fast and hard could be. When he leaned over me and pierced my shoulder with his fangs, we clung to each other, quaking.

Afterward, I reached for my underwear drawer, absently admiring the beautiful jewelry box on the shelf above when it hit me. Hand flying to my throat, I began to panic. Shitshitshit. Stheno. She'd pulled something from my neck the night before. I dove for the hamper and pulled out my dirty clothes.

"What is it?" Clive watched me, tucking his dress shirt into his trousers.

Fuckfuckfuck. "My necklaces." I stuffed my hand into the pocket of my jeans and came up with the wicche glass, but the choker Coco had made me to protect my mind from Abigail was gone.

Clive turned over the hamper, looking for the choker, but it was gone. He stared at me in horror. "Given the boundaries of the new skin, his hand would have been right over the necklace."

I pulled the wicche glass over my head. "That was probably why she pushed him to burn my neck, to get rid of the protection."

Clive patted his pockets and then looked around the closet. "I have to call Coco, get you a replacement."

"We will. I feel fine. No visions are trapping me. She could have screwed with me last night, when I was weak, but she didn't. Either she doesn't know or she's not as strong."

"More likely, you've become stronger." He gave me a quick kiss. Grabbing his phone off his nightstand, he dialed.

"I like that better."

"No answer," he said. "I'll try again in a bit. I don't want to leave a message about this."

I nodded. "The necklace will take a while to make and spell anyway. Let's deal with the Leticia crap first and then we'll circle back."

Dressed and ready, we finally left the bedroom. We needed to tell Russell and Godfrey what I'd learned snooping around last night.

I didn't know I'd been doing it, but when Clive turned to me, eyebrows raised, I realized I'd been swinging our joined hands, like we were a couple of teenagers on a date. He grinned and it felt like sunlight was warming me from the inside.

Russell and Godfrey waited at the base of the stairs, Russell staring straight ahead at the wall opposite, Godfrey watching us and smirking.

"We expected you down earlier, Sire, but I suppose you needed to check on Miss Quinn's health and well-being," Godfrey said.

Russell's hand shot out, doubling Godfrey at the waist.

"Thank you. You've saved me the trouble," Clive said, walking us past them.

And it hit me again that everyone in the nocturne knew every time Clive and I had sex. I knew my face was flaming as we walked into the study. Clive noticed and squeezed my hand. When Godfrey walked in a moment later, Clive shot out a hand that had Godfrey doubling up again.

Straightening, he choked out, "Apologies."

We need a cold room.

Do we?

Yes! It's mortifying that every vamp in the joint knows when we're having sex.

Think of it as evening the playing field, darling. You can read their minds. All they can do is hear your heartbeat.

I thought about that a moment. He was right. Hearing my heartbeat wasn't anywhere near as invasive.

I still want a cold room.

As you wish.

"It's very good to see that your neck has healed, Miss Quinn." Russell inclined his head to me and then sat in his usual spot in front of Clive's desk.

I'd taken up roost on my favorite bench. Well, maybe not my favorite, I thought, remembering the one upstairs.

"Gentlemen, leave us."

Both popped up and headed for the door.

"Cut it out and get back here." I gave Clive my squinty-eyed disapproving face. Once the men had settled back in their chairs, all eyes were on me. "I've been kicking around an idea. I wasn't sure if it'd work, though."

Unfolding the throw at the end of the bench, I wrapped it around myself. It was chilly down here. "Since I had to remain immobile for a few hours, I decided to give the thought a try."

"What was your thought?" Russell asked.

"Right. Sorry. Leticia has to be nearby. If she's intent on causing Clive trouble, she's not going to be doing it from Albuquerque. So, I blocked out everything except the signatures of supernaturals. In my mind, I walked the streets of San Francisco, searching for supernatural signatures."

Russell leaned forward. "You can find others of us, not just vampires and ghosts?"

"I wasn't sure. But when Stheno's sister high-beamed Dave, I thought she'd killed him. I found her in my mind and choked her."

Clive jumped up from his seat, followed a split-second later by Russell and Godfrey. "You never told me this. We have a gorgon after you?"

Taken aback by three angry vampires, I pulled the blanket closer around my shoulders. "I don't think so. Stheno never mentioned Euryale was after me or anything. Those women regularly beat the crap out of each other. I don't think a little choking is going to cause a fuss. Besides, Medusa started it! She groped Dave, who then burned her hand. Euryale jumped in to defend her burned sister by high-beaming Dave, which was complete overkill. When I saw her eyes go bright, I closed mine, thinking she'd made Dave a statue.

"I kind of went a little crazy. I found three black voids with a purplish overlay. Assuming they were the sisters, I wrapped my magic like a boa constrictor around Euryale and squeezed. I heard choking and gasping, but my eyes were closed. Turned out Dave was fine and he carried me out."

Clive had begun pacing between his desk and the window. Godfrey, on the other hand, flew out of the room, almost faster than I could track.

"What? I'm sure it's fine. Those women spend all day bitching at each other and drinking. She's probably forgotten all about it." I started shivering. Why the hell was it so cold in here?

Clive was suddenly crouched in front of me. Voice barely a whisper, he said, "If you can hurt an immortal, you can kill one. If you can kill one, members of our community who never gave you a second thought will now view you as an adversary. We don't need more targets on you."

Russell stood with his back to us, but close, acting as a bodyguard. "Miss Quinn, imagine how the New Orleans battle would have gone if Stheno and Meg were fighting against us, rather than with us?"

"But Stheno knows. She was right there."

Clive rose and crossed to his desk, tapping up the volume of the music he always had playing in the background.

"Our only hope is they believe it was Dave who did it," Clive said. "No one really knows what he's capable of. Even I'm not sure how old or powerful he is. He says he's a half-demon cook, but I don't believe it."

Clive crouched again, putting his hand on my knee. "He came to me when you opened, asking to be your cook. Owen was there to keep an eye on things, and I sent my people in regularly to check on you. It all seemed to be as he'd said. He wanted to cook. Eventually, I was happy you had an extra layer of protection."

"If they believe it was Dave, it'll help keep her abilities hidden," Russell whispered.

"Why did Godfrey race out?" Russell and I were staring at the open door to the study.

"We needed him to make sure no one heard what you said," Clive responded.

"Godfrey is very good at insinuating himself into situations without causing people to question him or become defensive. If either Clive or I were to search the nocturne, looking for eavesdroppers, the whole house would know and feign innocence."

"Why didn't you say so?" I closed my eyes and scanned the nocturne. No one was on this floor but us. Guards patrolled outside, none by this window, though. The rest were either out or downstairs. I tapped each of the guards, to see if any of them had been by Clive's window and overheard anything. Nothing. Each was thinking of his own issues: thirst, perceived insults, sex, disgust with me…

"I think we're okay." I did a quick spot check on the vamps down below and didn't hear anything alarming. "At ease, gentlemen." I pulled the throw up to cover the lower half of my face, trying to warm up.

"Why are you so cold?" Clive grabbed my chin, staring into my eyes. "Is someone in there with you?"