Read Online Anita Blake 15 - The Harlequin by Laurell K. Hamilton - Free Book Online
Authors: Laurell K. Hamilton
Tags: Fantasy
Ads: Link
know.
Chapter Six
I OPENED THAT metaphysical connection I had to Jean-Claude. Opened it and thought,
Where are you
? I felt him, or saw him, or some other word that they hadn't invented yet for seeing and feeling what someone else was doing in another room. He was on stage, using that voice of his to announce an act.
I drew back enough to be solidly on Nathaniel's arm. Sometimes when I tried mind-to-mind stuff, I had trouble walking. "Jean-Claude is on stage, so we'll go in the front."
"Whatever you say," he said.
Once, in our relationship, he'd meant that. He'd been my little submissive wereleopard. I'd worked long and hard to make him more, to force him to be more demanding. Try to do a good deed and it bites you on the ass.
The bouncer at the door was tall, blond, and way too cheerful for the job. Clay was one of Richard's werewolves, and when he wasn't bodyguarding someone, he worked security here. Clay's gift was avoiding fights. He was really good at calming things down. A much more useful ability for a bouncer than brute strength. Last week Clay had been helping guard my body. No pun intended. There'd been a metaphysical accident, and it had looked for a while like I'd be turning into a wereanimal for real, so I'd had different lycanthropes with me so that whatever I changed into, I was covered. But I had gotten some control over it all, and it looked like I still wasn't going to turn furry. Clay had been one of my watch-wolves. He was happy to be off the duty. I scared Clay. He was afraid the
ardeur
would make him my sexual slave. Okay, he didn't say that exactly. Maybe it was just me projecting my terrors on him. Maybe.
His smile slipped a little when he saw me, his face going all serious. He gave me a hard look as he said, "How's it going, Anita?" He wasn't just being polite; as afraid as he was of some of my metaphysical abilities, he'd been convinced it wasn't a good idea to take all my guards off duty. He thought it was too soon.
"I'm fine, Clay."
He peered at me, leaning that six-foot frame down to my five foot three. He studied me as the crowd behind us grew to four. His gaze went to Nathaniel. "Has she really been fine?"
"She's been fine."
Clay stood up straight and motioned us through. He looked positively suspicious as he did it, though.
"Honest," Nathaniel whispered as we went by, "not a twinge of anything furry."
Clay nodded and turned to the next group. He was the gatekeeper tonight. We entered the permanent dimness of the club. The noise was soft, murmurous, like the sea. The music picked up, and the crowd noise both was drowned out and got louder. The murmur of it was drowned out with the rise of the music, but the screams and yells of encouragement were louder.
The woman behind the coat area came out, smiling. "Crosses aren't allowed in the club."
I'd forgotten I was wearing one outside my clothes; usually I just tucked it out of sight and got to avoid the holy-item check girl.
I spilled the cross inside my sweater. "Sorry, forgot."
"I'm sorry, but just hiding it isn't enough. I'll give you a claim check just like for a coat."
Great, she was new and didn't know me. "Call Jean-Claude over, or Buzz; I get a pass on this one."
Nathaniel took off his hat and gave her a grin. Even in the dim light I could see her blush. "Brandon," she breathed, "I didn't recognize you."
"I'm in disguise," he said, and gave her that look that was part mischief, part flirting.
"Is she with you?"
I was holding on to his arm—of course we were together. But I stood there and was quiet. Nathaniel would handle it. Me yelling at her wouldn't help things. Honest.
Nathaniel leaned over and whispered, "Joan thinks you're a fan that just grabbed me at the door."
Oh. I gave her a real smile. "Sorry, I'm his girlfriend."
Nathaniel nodded to confirm it, as if women claimed to be his girlfriend all the time. It made me look at his smiling, peaceful face and wonder how many overzealous fans he had. How weird
Chapter Six
I OPENED THAT metaphysical connection I had to Jean-Claude. Opened it and thought,
Where are you
? I felt him, or saw him, or some other word that they hadn't invented yet for seeing and feeling what someone else was doing in another room. He was on stage, using that voice of his to announce an act.
I drew back enough to be solidly on Nathaniel's arm. Sometimes when I tried mind-to-mind stuff, I had trouble walking. "Jean-Claude is on stage, so we'll go in the front."
"Whatever you say," he said.
Once, in our relationship, he'd meant that. He'd been my little submissive wereleopard. I'd worked long and hard to make him more, to force him to be more demanding. Try to do a good deed and it bites you on the ass.
The bouncer at the door was tall, blond, and way too cheerful for the job. Clay was one of Richard's werewolves, and when he wasn't bodyguarding someone, he worked security here. Clay's gift was avoiding fights. He was really good at calming things down. A much more useful ability for a bouncer than brute strength. Last week Clay had been helping guard my body. No pun intended. There'd been a metaphysical accident, and it had looked for a while like I'd be turning into a wereanimal for real, so I'd had different lycanthropes with me so that whatever I changed into, I was covered. But I had gotten some control over it all, and it looked like I still wasn't going to turn furry. Clay had been one of my watch-wolves. He was happy to be off the duty. I scared Clay. He was afraid the
ardeur
would make him my sexual slave. Okay, he didn't say that exactly. Maybe it was just me projecting my terrors on him. Maybe.
His smile slipped a little when he saw me, his face going all serious. He gave me a hard look as he said, "How's it going, Anita?" He wasn't just being polite; as afraid as he was of some of my metaphysical abilities, he'd been convinced it wasn't a good idea to take all my guards off duty. He thought it was too soon.
"I'm fine, Clay."
He peered at me, leaning that six-foot frame down to my five foot three. He studied me as the crowd behind us grew to four. His gaze went to Nathaniel. "Has she really been fine?"
"She's been fine."
Clay stood up straight and motioned us through. He looked positively suspicious as he did it, though.
"Honest," Nathaniel whispered as we went by, "not a twinge of anything furry."
Clay nodded and turned to the next group. He was the gatekeeper tonight. We entered the permanent dimness of the club. The noise was soft, murmurous, like the sea. The music picked up, and the crowd noise both was drowned out and got louder. The murmur of it was drowned out with the rise of the music, but the screams and yells of encouragement were louder.
The woman behind the coat area came out, smiling. "Crosses aren't allowed in the club."
I'd forgotten I was wearing one outside my clothes; usually I just tucked it out of sight and got to avoid the holy-item check girl.
I spilled the cross inside my sweater. "Sorry, forgot."
"I'm sorry, but just hiding it isn't enough. I'll give you a claim check just like for a coat."
Great, she was new and didn't know me. "Call Jean-Claude over, or Buzz; I get a pass on this one."
Nathaniel took off his hat and gave her a grin. Even in the dim light I could see her blush. "Brandon," she breathed, "I didn't recognize you."
"I'm in disguise," he said, and gave her that look that was part mischief, part flirting.
"Is she with you?"
I was holding on to his arm—of course we were together. But I stood there and was quiet. Nathaniel would handle it. Me yelling at her wouldn't help things. Honest.
Nathaniel leaned over and whispered, "Joan thinks you're a fan that just grabbed me at the door."
Oh. I gave her a real smile. "Sorry, I'm his girlfriend."
Nathaniel nodded to confirm it, as if women claimed to be his girlfriend all the time. It made me look at his smiling, peaceful face and wonder how many overzealous fans he had. How weird
Similar Books
