Bullet

44

NEWS OF WHAT happened in Atlanta had spread through the vampire community faster than the human one. Those who had been reluctant to give up their power to Jean-Claude earlier were suddenly on board with the plan. The Lover of Death and his dark rider had done in hours what would have taken us days, or even weeks. They had frightened the vampires into turning to the only one who had a plan. When people are scared enough, they'll give up their freedom, their rights, everything, in a bid to be safe. Being undead didn't change that. Scratch them deep enough and vampires were just people, and people will follow a calm leader with a plan.

The first part of the plan was to introduce me and Jean-Claude to the tiger clans now that I had a gold tiger bound to us. It was an us. Micah and me, me and Jean-Claude, him and Richard, us and Asher, me and Nathaniel and Damian, none of it was solitary. It was as if the power and loneliness of the vampires' world had combined with the group-oriented puppy-pile world of the shapeshifters and made something new.

But as usual with Jean-Claude and the vampire world, the next step involved a party. All right, a big gathering, but if I have to get dressed up it's a party and not in a good happy way. We were in Jean-Claude's bedroom when the door opened and the guards let in the women who were going to help me dress to impress.

High heels clicked sharply over the stone floor. Cardinal strode toward us in four-inch spike sandals as if she were on a catwalk and photographers were snapping her picture. The dress looked like it had been inspired by a 1920s beaded flapper dress, but the colors were orange and yellow, in every shade they could come in; with her red curls spilling around her shoulders she looked like she was wearing fire. The dress was short enough  that her bare, creamy legs went on forever. With the sandals she was well over six feet.

Meng Die was behind her in a dress just as short, but black, with a collar of clear faux gemstones catching the halter top of the dress. Her black high heels were spike-toed, with at least four inches of spike. Her straight black hair was shiny, bobbing as she moved. The hair caressed her bare white shoulders, the ends of the hair flipped under. They were both wearing distinctive but artful makeup, so that Meng Die's brown eyes looked huge and even more exotic than usual. Cardinal had gone for the fresh-faced, sexy girl-next-door look, which meant she was wearing more makeup than it looked, but most men wouldn't figure it out. Hell, even I didn't know everything she had on her face.

What really bothered me was that she had a clothing bag over one arm and her makeup case in the other. Meng Die was carrying a shopping bag.

"We don't have time for me to get dolled up," I said.

"We don't have time for you not to," Cardinal said. She held up the garment bag over her arm and started unzipping it as she towered over me.

"Don't be a baby about this, Anita," Meng Die said, as she knelt on the floor and started taking shoe boxes out of the bag.

"You have great skin. We won't need much makeup. You'll be ready in twenty minutes or less," Cardinal said as she shook the dress free of its bag. It was as short as I'd feared, but the real problem was that the black material was utterly sheer from the scoop neck to the hem. There were black sequins catching the light here and there sort of randomly around the hem and skirt and a little on the bodice.

"Oh, don't look so shocked," Meng Die said, and drew a black slip out of the bag of shoes as if it had been on the bottom of everything.

"Where are my weapons going to go in that?" I asked.

"If you need a gun today, then we've lost," Meng Die said as she held the slip up to Cardinal.

"I'm lost now," I said.

Meng Die looked up at me from where she knelt. "Anita, you need to go in there on Jean-Claude's arm and sell this dress, this attitude, all of it. I'd do it if I could, but I'm not his lady, you are." There was real bitterness to that last, as well as the implication that if she were, then this would all go so much smoother.

"Off with the clothes," Cardinal said.

"How much am I going to hate all of it?" I asked.

"You have no idea what we went through to get these. We had to send someone out shopping, because we can't go out in daylight," Cardinal said. "The guards may be good at guarding us, but they are not personal shoppers. You should see the crap they brought back. This is the best of the lot, Anita. Most of the dresses won't fit your curves. It would work for either of us, but once breasts pass a C cup they're just a real challenge for cocktail dresses."

"I have dresses," I protested.

"You have last season's dresses, or heaven help us, three seasons ago. You never get rid of anything as long as it fits you," Cardinal said.

"Why should I?"

The two women exchanged a look. "Wait until you see what the other women are wearing," Meng Die said. "You'll understand then."

I looked at Jean-Claude. "They came to impress, ma petite. They came to be pretty."

"How did they get new dresses this fast?" I asked.

"They had them," Cardinal said, and started tugging my shirt out of my jeans.

"I'll do it, I'll do it."

"Then do it," she said.

Meng Die started holding the shoes against the dress, which was hanging from her other hand. "Most women try to buy at least one nice dress per season so they'll have it, Anita. If you have the money that's what you do. Some women change out their entire wardrobes once or twice a year."

"I like my clothes, and sometimes what's in for the season is ugly." I stripped off my shoulder rig, started to hand it to Jean-Claude, thought better of it, and reluctantly handed it to Nicky. I had to push Cardinal's hands away from my shirt so I could pull it over my head myself.

"See, I told you she'd have nice underwear on," Cardinal said.

"Glad you approve," I said, and didn't try to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"You may dress like one of the boys, but you always have really nice underthings," Cardinal said. "We counted on that."

"The guards could not have shopped for lingerie," Meng Die said, standing up with the shoes in one hand and the dress in the other.

"Hurry, Anita," Cardinal said.

I didn't want to hurry. I didn't like the dress.

Micah kissed me on the cheek. He was dressed in a tailored black suit, except it was made of soft black leather. His shirt was white and made his summer tan look very dark. The collar of it was open to expose the bite marks on his neck. The idea was that we would all show the vampire bites to demonstrate that Jean-Claude kept the best stuff for himself. It was a way of emphasizing he was still master, even though a lot of the metaphysical stuff with the tigers would seem to come mostly from me.

"You're okay with this?" I asked.

"Anita, after last night and what happened in Atlanta, I'd wear the dress myself if it would help us be safe." Jean-Claude looked at me, and there was something of weight, and sorrow, and just him, that made me take his hand.

"If I really thought the dress would help us be safe, I wouldn't mind."

Micah kissed me. "Anita, have I ever asked you to just do something?"

I thought about it and shook my head.

"I'm asking now." He looked sad.

"Did I miss something? Has something else happened?"

"Anita, it's afternoon. We have about six hours until full dark. Whatever we are going to do with the tigers, we need it done before dark."

"But Europe isn't on the same daylight schedule," I said.

"If they are underground, ma petite, the council does not sleep much. They await our darkness, not their own," Jean-Claude said.

"Richard is in the other room wearing a hell of a lot less than I am. He's sucked it up and is playing host while the rest of us are in here holding your hand. You're about to throw a fit because the dress is sheer. Anita, honey" - and he took my hands in his - "Richard is doing what we need him to do; are you going to do less?"

I sighed. "I'm sorry, you're right. I'm just not the exhibitionist that - oh, hell, Micah. I'm just not comfortable mostly nude in front of a roomful of strangers."

"I'm sorry for that, but we need to play to our strengths. Those are sex, psychic ability so strong they won't know what hit them, and bluntness. The dress is sexy, and blunt." He smiled. "Honey, it's you. I'll go help the other men with our guests. Okay?"

I nodded. "Okay."

He kissed my cheek again, gave Jean-Claude a look I couldn't quite  understand, and went back down the hallway to our guests. And just like that, I stopped protesting. Micah's attitude brought home more than anything else could have that modesty was no longer a virtue. It was the proverbial midnight, and the clock was striking. Whatever we were going to do before that last strike, we had about six hours to do it.