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My voice was only a little breathy as I said, "I don't remember the actual sex."

He frowned and sat up in bed, the sheets pooling behind him so that he was nude as he sat there looking concerned. "I don't understand."

"Neither do I," I said.

"You look scared."

I nodded.

"Are you scared of . . . me?"

"I'm scared of whatever made me not remember the last few hours."

"Are you seriously saying you don't remember any of the sex?"

"The last thing I remember was your eyes glowing and you said, I want this."

"Then we had amazing sex," he said.

"I don't remember that part, Nathaniel."

"You don't remember Damian fucking you?"

"No, I don't."

"Or me going down on him for the first time?"

"No."

"Or him taking blood from me so we could all keep having sex?" Nathaniel moved his tangled hair to one side so I could see the fang marks in his neck.

"I don't remember that."

"What's the last thing you do remember?"

"I told you, your eyes glowing, and Damian's eyes glowing."

"Your eyes glowed, too, Anita, like brown diamonds in the sun."

"I'll take your word for it, but I don't remember it."

"You should remember, Anita."

"I don't."

"Why don't you?"

"I don't know."

He glanced behind him at the other man lifeless in the bed. "I hope Damian remembers more of it than you do. We hit some serious firsts. It would be sad if I was the only one that remembered them."

"We need to talk to Jean-Claude," I said.

"Why?"

"Because I don't remember anything, Nathaniel. I mean, nothing after your eyes started to glow."

"Everyone's eyes glowed, Anita, not just mine."

"I'll take your word for it, but I honestly don't remember."

He slipped off the bed and I took a step back. He went very still, his face very serious. "You're not just afraid. You're afraid of me."

"I think so."

"Why? I would never hurt you, Anita."

"Logically I know that, but this isn't about logic."

"No, it's all about emotion for you. I can smell it."

"Smell what, my emotions?"

"Your fear," he said, his voice calm as if he didn't want to add any more emotion to the situation. It was usually the way that Micah talked to me when I was upset, but I guess we'd been dating enough so that we all knew how to handle each other now.

"Anita, I don't know what happened, or why you can't remember everything, but if we did get rolled by some bigger vampire, don't do to me what you've done to Sin, or Jean-Claude and Richard in the past."

"And what is that? What did I do to them?" I could hear the fear and edge of anger in my voice.

"Let your fear of what happened paint everyone involved with the same issues. It would break my heart if you treated me that way."

I stared into that handsome face and didn't know what to say.

"I don't think I'd deal as well with it as they do."

"What does that mean?" And my voice was still strident with the first stirrings of anger, because it would help chase away the fear.

"It means don't blame me, or Damian, when we got rolled, too."

"But you remember. If you'd been rolled, you wouldn't remember."

"I don't know why I remember, but you and Damian said yes to everything we did. I hate the idea that you don't remember saying yes, and hope like hell that Damian remembers later."

I glanced at the vampire lying broken-looking in the bed. "Can you change his position? He looks . . . broken."

"Can it really hurt him to lie like that?" he asked.

"No, but it just looks uncomfortable."

Nathaniel didn't argue, just climbed back onto the bed and moved the vampire until he was lying in a more normal sleeping position. His body moved as only the dead can, boneless and hard to keep where you put it, so that the head kept lolling to one side at that broken-neck angle. Nathaniel finally had to use the pillows to prop the vampire's head at an angle that made me happier.

"Let's go find Jean-Claude; he should be awake by now," I said.

"You'll want to at least finger-comb your hair," he said, smiling.

I frowned at him. "Do you really think I care how my hair looks right now?"

"No, but you might if you look in the mirror."

I half-smiled and shook my head. "For you to keep insisting, it must be bad."

"Pretty bad. I think we all forgot to put hair-care products and conditioner on after we finished the shower part."

"You never forget hair-care products," I said.

He frowned. "True."

"Are you sure you remember everything that happened?" I asked.

"I thought I did, but now I'm not sure."

I reached up and touched my hair, but just feeling it didn't seem so bad. I started to walk to the bathroom, but Nathaniel followed me, and I had to stop him. "I don't want to be in the bathroom with anyone but me right now, Nathaniel."

He looked so sad.

"I'm sorry, Nathaniel, but until we figure out what just happened I need a little space."

"Don't pull away, Anita."

"I want some privacy in the bathroom. I don't think that's asking too much," I said.

He nodded and let me walk away alone, but his shoulders slumped forward, every line of him sadder than a few seconds ago. I wanted to run and hug him close, erase all the sadness from him, but I had a right to go to the bathroom alone, damn it. I had a right to a little privacy, a little space, even with him.

I closed the door, but standing there in the room where I'd lost time wasn't good. I suddenly wanted out of the room as much as I'd wanted out of the bed. I opened the door and came to stand outside, breathing hard.

"Anita, are you okay? Did something happen in the room just now?"

I shook my head. "Going to leave the door open, okay?"

"Okay, I won't try to come in while you're in there."

"Thank you," I said.

"I don't know what's wrong, but I don't want to make it worse," he said.

"I know you don't." I moved back into the bathroom to look in the mirror and instantly understood why Nathaniel had said something. My curls didn't always look great after I slept on them wet, but this was spectacularly bad, even for me. It looked like I had lopsided horns, along with other odd protuberances in between. Just sleeping on my hair wet wouldn't do this; it was like we'd put in shampoo and just left it in, or gotten crazed with hair-care products but never smoothed the hair into place. Once I saw my hair, I knew that Nathaniel didn't remember everything either. He'd never have let me sleep with this much stuff in my hair without helping me neaten it. Nathaniel thought he remembered the entire thing, but he didn't.

I did my best to splash water on it and try to help matters, but I finally let Nathaniel in to try to help me. He finally ended by braiding it close to my head with a promise to help me wash it out later. He had to braid his own hair, too. We'd both have to start over with our hair later, but there was no way I was getting back into the shower until I'd spoken with Jean-Claude. I needed to know who had rolled us, and why. Some older vampires will fuck with you just to fuck with you, but most of them have a purpose if they torment you; call it sadism with a reason. I needed to know that reason, and Jean-Claude needed to k

now there was still someone big and bad enough to roll me that thoroughly, because if they could do that without alerting him to it, then they were serious bad-asses. Every time we destroyed the great evil, another one seemed to rise up in its place like an evil version of "Nature abhors a vacuum." It was almost like the Mother of All Darkness had kept the other bad vampires in line, and now that she was gone, they were trying their supervillain wings out. I was getting real tired of being the target du jour for them.

15

"MA PETITE, I do not believe that it is an outside force that has cost you time."

"Then what was it?" I demanded, as I paced the room. We were back in his bedroom but had to sit in the chairs around the faux fireplace, because the bed where he usually liked to lounge had been reduced to nothing but the bed frame. The custom-made mattress and bed frame were ruined by the blood that Damian had shed. The cleanup crew that was made up of our own people wouldn't guarantee that they could fix it. It would take weeks or even months to get a custom replacement.

He glanced at Nathaniel, who had curled up in front of the electric fire wearing nothing but a pair of silky black shorts and the long braid of his hair.

"Cats always find the warmest place in a room," Jean-Claude said.

"I wish you would let the electric fire run when we sleep in here," Nathaniel said.

"I cannot trust that it will not spark and catch fire while I am unable to save myself."

"Modern electricity is a lot safer than it used to be," Nathaniel said.

Jean-Claude nodded. "Logically, yes, but some worries are not about logic."

"We have another big bad vampire attacking us and you're worried about being warm while we sleep. If I were any warmer sleeping between you and Micah, I'd melt."

"I'm usually on the end, so warmer would be good for me," Nathaniel said.

"How can you be so calm?" I asked him.

He shrugged and stared at the flickering flames. "The ardeur was fed. We all feel better. Damian is even dead for the day. Nothing seems to be wrong; why aren't you calmer?" He looked up at me as I paced.


Tags: Laurell K. Hamilton Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Horror