Dead Ice
Page 69“Before dinner, Anita, Jean-Claude, and I need to talk with some of the weretigers.”
I glanced at him and so did Dev. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked.
Micah smiled. “No, Dev, you didn’t do anything wrong, but you are included in the talk.”
“Weretigers that are connected to us already, or new ones?” I asked.
“No new ones, not yet.”
“You have but to ask, mon chat,” Jean-Claude said.
Micah picked the tigers he wanted, and we all trusted him enough to believe he’d explain when we had some privacy. There was a time in my life when I wouldn’t have trusted anyone that much, but Micah had earned it from me, from Jean-Claude, from all of us. The fact that no one argued or even questioned the request proved that. We just all trooped off to his office here in the underground. It was newer than even the dining room remodel, but it was the only room that had a table with enough chairs for everyone, besides the dining rooms. Before the office was put in, most group meetings had been in Jean-Claude’s bedroom, and you sat either on the floor or on the bed once the two chairs by the fireplace were taken.
But now we all got to sit around the oval table in the conference room area off the office. It had a desk that Micah actually used sometimes, but I found him most often sitting at the far end of the big table with papers spread out in front of him, or with a bunch of other shapeshifters talking Coalition business. The desk was beautiful, but it was almost untouched. The table was the office for Micah.
“When Anita and I touched Dev together, you felt the power?” Micah asked.
Jean-Claude said, “Oui, it was like the first time you touched him together. I assume it isn’t always like that between the three of you.”
“I don’t know,” Micah said.
Jean-Claude frowned slightly. “How can you not know? If it happened every time you touched each other, I know you would have mentioned it to me. So it is a rare occurrence.”
“This is only the second time it’s happened,” I said.
“Very rare then,” he said.
Micah shook his head, his long ponytail catching slightly under Jean-Claude’s arm. “This is only the second time that Anita and I have touched Dev.”
“I’ve touched Anita while Dev has touched her, but tonight was only the second time she and I have touched Dev; do you see the difference?”
Jean-Claude did the long blink, his face pleasant and unreadable; it was his version of blank cop face. Even his leg had gone very still under my hand, as if he were holding more than just his breath. Older vampires could almost suspend movement, as if all the “being alive” could just stop.
He blinked again, and it was as if someone had hit the on switch. He took a breath and said, “Are you saying that you have never, even accidentally, touched Dev at the same time he was touching Anita, even during sex?”
“Yes.”
Jean-Claude looked at me; it was an eloquent look.
“Dev and I haven’t had sex that often. Asher is too insecure when his male lovers want to bed women, you know that.”
“He has been working that issue, but yes, he is more insecure around bisexual men. Heterosexuals he sees as a challenge to seduce, but with bisexuals he thinks he is simply not enough to keep them entertained.”
“Emotional issues are seldom logical, ma petite.”
“You know, you’re all talking like Dev can’t hear you, and he’s right there,” Crispin said. It made me look from the tall, slender dancer to Dev, whose hands were still trying to rub a hole through the tabletop.
“I’m sorry, Dev,” I said.
“Thank you, Crispin,” Micah said, “you’re right.”
Dev didn’t look at anyone.
“Dev,” I said, “what’s wrong?”