lhamilton.thekillingdance-第76部分

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　When　I　passed　the　last　furred　body；　the　sound　of　tearing　flesh　brought　my　head　around。　I　couldn't　stop　myself　in　time。　Richard's　muzzle　was　raised　skyward；　slick　with　blood；　throwing　down　a　piece　of　meat　that　I　tried　not　to　recognize。
　I　ran。　The　woods　that　I'd　glided　through　with　Richard's　help　suddenly　became　an　obstacle　course。　I　ran；　and　tripped；　and　fell；　and　ran　some　more。　I　finally　got　back　to　the　parking　lot。　I　had　driven　because　nobody　but　me　was　going　home　tonight。　They'd　stay　here　and　have　a　moonlight　jamboree。
　Edward　and　Harley　had　watched　all　of　it　from　a　nearby　hill　with　night　scopes。　I　wondered　what　they　thought　of　the　show。
　
　
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　Edward　made　me　promise　to　go　back　to　the　Circus　for　one　more　night。　Marcus　was　dead；　so　there　was　no　more　money；　but　if　someone　else　had　taken　the　contract；　they　might　not　know　that　yet。　It　would　be　a　shame　to　get　killed　after　all　the　effort　we'd　put　in　to　save　me。　I　walked　all　the　way　down　the　damn　stairs　to　the　ironbound　door　before　I　realized　I　didn't　have　a　key；　and　nobody　was　expecting　me。
　The　clear　liquid　that　had　gushed　out　of　Richard's　body　had　dried　to　a　sticky；　viscous　substance　somewhere　between　blood　and　glue。　I　needed　a　bath。　I　needed　clean　clothes。　I　needed　to　stop　seeing　Richard's　mouth　while　he　ate　pieces　of　Marcus。　The　harder　I　tried　not　to　flash　on　it；　the　clearer　the　image　got。
　I　banged　on　the　door　until　my　hands　stung；　then　I　kicked　it。　No　one　came。　〃Shit！〃　I　screamed　at　no　one　and　everyone。　〃Shit！〃
　The　feel　of　his　body　on　top　of　mine。　His　bones　and　muscle　sliding　on　top　of　me　like　a　bag　of　snakes。　The　warm　rush　of　power；　and　that　moment　when　I　had　wanted　to　drop　to　my　knees　and　feed。　What　if　I　had　swallowed　the　power　whole？　What　if　I　hadn't　backed　off？　Would　I　have　fed　on　Marcus？　Would　I　have　done　that　and　enjoyed　it？
　I　screamed　wordlessly；　smacking　my　hands　into　the　door；　kicking　it；　beating　on　it。　I　collapsed　to　my　knees；　stinging　palms　pressed　against　the　wood。　I　leaned　my　head　against　the　door　and　cried。
　〃Ma　petite；　what　has　happened？〃　Jean…Claude　stood　behind　me　on　the　stairs。　〃Richard　is　not　dead。　I　would　feel　it。〃
　I　turned　and　pressed　my　back　against　the　door。　I　wiped　at　the　tears　on　my　face。　〃He's　not　dead；　not　even　close。〃
　〃Then　what　is　wrong？〃　He　came　down　the　steps　like　he　was　dancing；　too　graceful　for　words；　even　after　an　evening　spent　with　shapeshifters。　His　shirt　was　a　deep；　rich　blue；　not　quite　dark　enough　to　be　navy；　the　sleeves　were　full；　with　wide　cuffs；　the　collar　high　but　soft；　almost　as　if　it　were　a　scarf。　I'd　never　seen　him　in　blue　of　any　shade。　It　made　his　midnight　blue　eyes　seem　bluer；　darker。　His　jeans　were　black　and　tight　enough　to　be　skin；　the　boots　were　knee…high；　with　a　trailing　edge　of　black　leather　that　flopped　as　he　moved。
　He　knelt　beside　me；　not　touching　me；　almost　like　he　was　afraid　to。　〃Ma　petite；　your　cross。〃
　I　stared　down　at　it。　It　wasn't　glowing；　not　yet。　I　wrapped　my　hand　around　the　cross　and　jerked；　snapping　the　chain。　I　flung　it　away。　It　fell　against　the　wall；　glinting　silver　in　the　faint　light。　〃Happy？〃
　Jean…Claude　looked　at　me。　〃Richard　lives。　Marcus　is　dead。　Correct？〃
　I　nodded。
　〃Then　why　the　tears；　ma　petite？　I　do　not　think　I　have　ever　seen　you　cry。〃
　〃I　am　not　crying。〃
　He　touched　my　cheek　with　one　fingertip　and　came　away　with　a　single　tear　trembling　on　the　end　of　his　finger。　He　raised　it　to　his　lips；　the　tip　of　his　tongue　licked　it　off　his　skin。　〃You　taste　like　your　heart　has　broken；　ma　petite。〃
　My　throat　choked　tight。　I　couldn't　breathe　past　the　tears。　The　harder　I　tried　not　to　cry；　the　faster　the　tears　flowed。　I　hugged　myself；　and　my　hands　touched　the　sticky　gunk　that　covered　me。　I　held　my　hands　away　from　my　body　like　I'd　touched　something　unclean。　I　stared　at　Jean…Claude　with　my　hands　held　out　in　front　of　me。
　〃Mon　Dieu；　what　has　happened？〃　He　tried　to　hug　me；　but　I　pushed　him　away。
　〃You'll　get　it　all　over　you。〃
　He　stared　at　the　thick；　clear　gunk　on　his　hand。　〃How　did　you　get　this　close　to　a　shapeshifting　werewolf？〃　An　idea　flowed　across　his　face。　〃It's　Richard。　You　saw　him　change。〃
　I　nodded。　〃He　changed　on　top　of　me。　It　was　。　。　。　Oh；　God；　oh；　God；　oh；　God。〃
　Jean…Claude　pulled　me　into　his　arms。　I　pushed　at　him。　〃You'll　ruin　your　clothes。〃
　〃Ma　petite；　ma　petite；　it's　all　right。　It　is　all　right。〃
　〃No；　it's　not。〃　I　sagged　against　him。　I　let　him　wrap　me　in　his　arms。　I　clutched　at　him；　hands　digging　into　the　silk　of　his　shirt。　I　buried　my　face　against　his　chest　and　whispered；　〃He　ate　Marcus。　He　ate　him。〃
　〃He's　a　werewolf；　ma　petite。　That's　what　they　do。〃
　It　was　such　an　odd　thing　to　say；　and　so　terribly　true；　that　I　laughed…an　abrupt；　almost　angry　sound。　The　laughter　died　in　choking；　and　the　choking　became　sobs。
　I　held　onto　Jean…Claude　like　he　was　the　last　sane　thing　in　the　world。　I　buried　myself　against　him　and　wept。　It　was　like　something　deep　inside　me　had　broken；　and　I　was　crying　out　bits　of　myself　onto　his　body。
　His　voice　came　to　me　dimly；　as　if　he　had　been　speaking　for　a　long　time；　but　I　hadn't　heard。　He　was　speaking　French；　softly；　whispering　it　into　my　hair；　stroking　my　back；　rocking　me　gently。
　I　lay　in　his　arms；　quiet。　I　had　no　more　tears　left。　I　felt　empty　and　light；　numb。
　Jean…Claude　smoothed　my　hair　back　from　my　forehead。　He　brushed　his　lips　across　my　skin；　like　Richard　had　done　earlier　tonight。　Even　that　thought　couldn't　make　me　cry　again。　It　was　too　soon。
　〃Can　you　stand；　ma　petite？〃
　〃I　think　so。〃　My　voice　sounded　distant；　strange。　I　stood；　still　in　the　circle　of　his　arms；　leaning　against　him。　I　pushed　away　from　him　gently。　I　stood　on　my　own；　a　little　shaky；　but　better　than　nothing。
　His　dark　blue　shirt　was　plastered　to　his　chest；　covered　with　werewolf　goop　and　tears。　〃Now　we　both　need　a　bath；〃　I　said。
　〃That　can　be　arranged。〃
　〃Please；　Jean…Claude；　no　sexual　innuendo　until　after　I'm　clean。〃
　〃Of　course；　ma　petite。　It　was　crude　of　me　tonight。　My　apologies。〃
　I　stared　at　him。　He　was　being　far　too　nice。　Jean…Claude　was　a　lot　of　things；　but　nice　wasn't　one　of　them。
　〃If　you're　up　to　something；　I　don't　want　to　know　about　it。　I　can't　handle　any　deep；　dark　plots　tonight；　okay？〃
　He　smiled　and　gave　a　low；　sweeping　bow；　never　taking　his　eyes　off　me。　The　way　you　bow　on　the　judo　mat　when　you're　afraid　the　person　may　pound　you　if　you　look　away。
　I　shook　my　head。　He　was　up　to　something。　Nice　to　know　that　not　everyone　had　suddenly　bee　something　else。　One　thing　I　could　always　depend　on　was　Jean…Claude。　Pain　in　the　ass　that　he　was；　he　always　seemed　to　be　there。　Dependable　in　his　own　twisted　way。　Jean…Claude　dependable？　I　must　have　been　more　tired　than　I　thought。
　
　
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　Jean…Claude　opened　the　bedroom　door　and　stepped　inside；　ushering　me　through　with　a　sweep　of　graceful　hands。　The　bed　stopped　me。　There'd　been　a　change　of　bedding。　Red　sheets　covered　the　bed。　Crimson　drapes　formed　a　half　canopy　over　the　nearly　black　wood。　There　were　still　a　dozen　pillows　on　the　bed　and　they　were　all　screaming；　brilliant　red。　Even　after　the　night　I'd　had；　it　was　eye…catching。
　〃I　like　the　new　decor；　I　guess。〃
　〃The　linens　needed　to　be　changed。　You　are　always　plaining　that　I　should　use　more　color。〃
　I　stared　at　the　bed。　〃I'll　stop　plaining。〃
　〃I　will　run　your　bath。〃　He　went　into　the　bathroom　without　a　single　joke　or　risqué　ment。　It　was　almost　unnerving。
　Whoever　had　changed　the　sheets　had　also　removed　the　chairs　that　Edward　and　Harley　had　used。　I　didn't　want　to　sit　on　the　clean　sheets　still　covered　in　whatever　the　hell　I　was　covered　in。　I　sat　down　on　the　white　carpet　and　tried　not　to　think。　Not　thinking　is　a　lot　harder　than　it　sounds。　My　thoughts　kept　chasing　each　other；　like　a　werewolf　chasing　its　tail。　The　image　tore　a　laugh　from　my　throat；　and　on　the　end　of　it　a　sound　like　a　sob　or　a　moan。　I　put　the　back　of　my　hand　against　my　mouth。　I　didn't　like　that　sound　ing　out　of　me。　It　sounded　hopeless；　beaten。
　I　was　not　beaten；　dammit；　but　I　was　hurt。　If　what　I　felt　had　been　an　actual　wound；　I'd　have　been　bleeding　to　death。
　The　bathroom　door　opened　at　long　last。　A　puff　of　warm；　moist　air　flowed　around　Jean…Claude。　He　had　taken　off　his　shirt；　and　the　cross…shaped　burn　scar　marred　the　perfection　of　his　chest。　He