Asher's Kiss
Part 2
 

PART TWO~

I told Asher about the edict.  He seemed more put off by the fact that
Jean-Claude didn't want to tell him, than the fact Jean-Claude actually
suspected him of being responsible for it.

"Look," I argued.  "You can have it out with him later.  Right now, I need
your help."

Asher glared up at the bright red sign above the entrance to Danse Macabre.
"And I agreed to help you, but I'm not going in there with you."

I had managed to get him all the way to the nightclub's entrance before he
balked on me.  Public places often made him self-conscious.  It was
infuriating to me, because I had a habit of looking past his ravaged face
almost to the point of not even seeing his scars.  So I couldn't understand
how anyone could look upon him with disgust or horror.  To me he was
strikingly handsome.  According to Asher, I was one of only two people on
the face of the earth who thought so.

"But I may need you," I pushed.  "Listen.  It'll be dark in there.  People
will be too busy dancing, or too drunk to even notice you."  I picked up his
hand and squeezed it encouragingly.  He didn't squeeze back.

"Being with you, I become complacent," he responded.  There was the
slightest hint of desperation in his voice.  "I let myself forget for awhile
what I really look like.  Even I start seeing myself through your eyes."  He
shook his head, his hair automatically falling forward, obscuring the right
side of his face.   "Can't you let me wallow in ignorance a little while
longer?"

For a moment, I actually considered letting him stay outside, but if I gave
into him this time, it would seem as if I agreed with him.  And I didn't.
He didn't need to hide.  I took a deep calming breath and decided to try a
different approach.

"Jean-Claude told you to escort me tonight.  He won't be very pleased with
you if you let me go in there alone.  Every sleezebag in the joint will
think I'm fair game and make a play for me.  And with my ardeur acting up,
the shit could hit the fan in there."

Asher closed his eyes, threw his head back and growled in frustration.  "Say
no more!  I'll go with you, but not to please Jean-Claude.  I'm not exactly
thrilled with him right now.  But I understand your anxiety.  I get the gist
of it anyway."  He peered down at me unhappily and sighed with resignation.

I fought a smile.  Since he spoke English so fluently--his syntax was even
better than Jean-Claude's--I kept forgetting Asher hadn't been in this
country all that long.  I rose up on my toes and kissed his cheek.

"As a reward, I'll mention to Jean-Claude that he needs to help you brush up
on American slang."

Asher flashed a reluctant smile, but it disappeared the moment I pulled him
through the door.

********
Danse Macabre's claim to fame was that it let the more daring of the general
public rub shoulders, and other body parts, with real "live" vampires.
There were eight vampires employed there who worked the crowds each night,
usually four a night, one male, one female, and two sort of understudies for
backup.

Damian was one of the vampires working the floor tonight.  It was his job to
dance one on one with the patrons and make sure they not only had a good
time, but got to experience the presence of a vampire up close and personal.
  The tourists ate it up, so to speak.

It was crowded tonight but not overly packed, but then it was a weeknight.
I was still having a hard time crossing the dance floor without bumping into
people however.  It was times like these I wished protocol would allow me to
just draw the Browning and fire a couple of rounds into the ceiling to clear
the place out.  I had important things to do--these people were just here to
get plastered and laid.

I felt more secure knowing Asher was at my back, but being surrounded by so
much noise, erratic movement, and intoxicated bodies was making me slightly
claustrophobic.

As if sensing my unease, Asher slipped his hand in mine.  It wasn't until he
pressed himself against my side like a frightened child on the first day of
school that I realized he was sticking close to me more for his benefit than
mine.

I turned to face him and suddenly caught sight of Damian.  My mouth fell
open and stayed that way until I felt it drying out and quickly snapped it
shut.  I suddenly felt like the unsuspecting parent who had stumbled into
the sleezy strip club just to use the phone and noticed the slut on the
stage was actually his honor roll student.  I had always known Damian worked
here--I'd met him here in fact, but knowing about his job and seeing him
perform it, were two entirely different things.

I don't know how I could have possibly not noticed Damian before this,
because first of all, he was in a red spotlight.  He was wearing a
ratty-looking sleeveless jean jacket edged with gold studs and accented with
gold chains.  Underneath all that was a plain black tee-shirt, torn
diagonally across his chest to expose a tantalizing swatch of his
translucently white skin.  His arms were bare except for the gold slave
bracelets he wore on each bicep.  His tight, tight faded jeans were also
ripped, over his knees and just below the curve of his ass across the backs
of both thighs.  Gold chains were wrapped around his slim waist and draped
provocatively over his hips.  His long and dark red hair was wildly tousled.
  He looked like an advertisement for Bad Boys R Us.  And he was acting like
one too.

I finally recovered enough to nudge Asher and gesture off to our left.
Asher turned, his eyes immediately zeroing in on Damian.

"Merde," he muttered and shook his head.  "How are we going to get him away
from them?"

I shrugged.  The "them" Asher was referring to were no less than a dozen
fascinated young women, forming a little semi-circle around my vampire,
anxiously awaiting their turn to dance with him.  Their eager bodies shifted
and swayed in time to the music as if they were keeping themselves warmed up
in anticipation of his summon and might have to spring into action.

To be honest, I had always considered Damian attractive, sexy even, but
watching him now was getting me really hot and bothered.  Some study done by
a university somewhere with an excessive research budget had shown the way a
man tended to move was one of the biggest turn ons for women.  Taking this
to heart, I came to the conclusion my acute arousal had more to do with the
way Damian was moving with these women than the way he looked.  Even though
he did look undeniably hot.

The lucky little lady he was currently dancing with looked like she was
working on her third orgasm.  Despite the fact they were both fully clothed,
the way they were dancing with each other looked like they were actually
having sex.  I had heard of dirty dancing before, but this...this was
wicked.

I had to smile.  I suddenly wondered if that's where Jean-Claude had gotten
his euphemism.  Wicked dancing--same as having sex.  Did he teach his
dancers this?  If he danced this way, no wonder he was always trying to get
me to dance with him.  The scoundrel.

Damian had the woman's back against his chest.  His right hand stroked the
exposed bare skin between her breasts while his left hand--firmly splayed
just above her pelvic bone--kept her hips aligned with his.  He rhythmically
bumped and rubbed himself against her, in time to the pounding beat.

I noticed the woman's head was tilted all the way back so it lay on Damian's
shoulder, the long line of her bared neck stretched temptingly within reach
of his mouth.  He caressed her throat a couple of times with the back of his
hand, but other than that, paid no attention to it.  I had to wonder if the
woman realized how hard it had to be for him not to sink his teeth into her.
  The fact he didn't, showed how admirable his control was.

Within a few minutes however, Damian released her, and turned to pluck
another pretty girl from the circle of hopefuls.  He eased her up against
his body first, whispered something into her ear that made her smile, then
began his seduction all over again until she was more or less satiated.
Then he abandoned her and chose another.

I realized while watching him, he never once looked into their eyes.  He
wasn't using any magic on them besides the power of his natural sex-appeal.
I also noticed he never once smiled, even though he seemed to be enjoying
himself immensely.  Or at least his body was.  Or maybe he was just reveling
in the power he wielded over these women: the fact that he could use them
sexually and dominate them so simply, in ways he had never been able to
before.  For over five hundred years, he had been the dominated one.  He had
been the sexual slave of a master so brutal, the Vampire Council and
Jean-Claude had actually intervened on his behalf.

After enduring that, you'd think Damian wouldn't even like being with women.
  But he did and he liked pleasing them.  Maybe it was obvious and that was
why the number of women waiting to dance with him kept increasing.  Unless
this song ended soon--it was one of those that went on and on--and by some
unforeseen miracle it was time for his break afterwards, I wasn't going to
get anywhere near him anytime soon.

To make matters worse, the ardeur was back with a vengeance.  No surprise
there, having watched Damian semi-copulate with no less than four women in
the space of three minutes.

I turned away from that spectacle and faced Asher.  But he looked so hot
just standing there I almost threw myself at him.  I wanted to knock him
down to the floor, rip off his clothes and sink my teeth into his ruined
flesh.  Damn.  Damn.  Damn.

"I've got to get out of here," I exhaled.  "I'm going to have to just call
Damian to me."

Asher shook his head.  "They will follow him.  And he'll probably attract
more.  We need to do this as discreetly as possible."  He glanced at me, did
a quick double-take, then gazed down at me sympathetically.  "Is it the
ardeur?"

I nodded and tried to fan myself with my hand.  I suddenly felt like
screaming and tearing my clothes off.  Or his clothes off.  Either way I'm
sure we'd both end up naked.  I reached for Asher and slid my hands up his
chest under his jacket.  I tugged at the collar of his shirt, loosening his
tie.

Asher stilled my hand with his and turned me back around to face Damian.
"No.  Go to him, ma cherie," he advised sagely.  "Don't fight it this time.
He can take care of you and maybe it will discourage his would-be suitors as
well."

I licked my lips half in anticipation, half in anxiety.  "Yeah.  Maybe
you're right."

Asher offered me a thin smile.  "Maybe."

I took a deep breath and started stalking forward, my eyes locking on Damian
with an almost tangible intensity.  I must have looked like a woman on the
edge, because the crowd on the dance floor actually parted to make room for
me the way they do in all the movies.

Damian noticed me when I was about ten feet from him.  He immediately lost
all interest in the woman he was currently "doing", and stepped away from
her.  Fastening his emerald-colored eyes on mine, Damian held out his hand
to me in invitation.  Yeah, it was my turn now.

The music had stopped for the moment.  I came to a stop just out of his
reach to first devour him with my eyes.

"You look good enough to eat," I growled.  I didn't recognize my own voice,
it was so husky with desire.

He came closer to me and offered me an indisputably hungry expression of his
own.  "So do you," he breathed and held out his hand again.

This time I took it, and as soon as I felt his skin touch mine, the power of
our unusual bond flared, igniting the ardeur into something primitive and
all-consuming.  I pulled him roughly against me and buried my face in his
hair.

"Satisfy me," I ordered him as my hands roved the curves of his body with
the open rawness of my need.

Damian released a breath I hadn't known he was holding and nodded in
acknowledgment.  His hands slid down my sides and rested on my waist as he
scissored his legs between mine.

Another song began.  Just a mesmerizing quiet beat at first, but it cut into
me like the lash of a whip.  I recognized it as "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails.
  The symbolism of this song wasn't lost on me either with lyrics like: "You
make me violate you.  You make me desecrate you.  You make me penetrate
you...." *   Too perfect.

I could feel the hard muscle of Damian's thigh pressing against my crotch
and slithered my hips eagerly down the length of his leg.  My hands grasped
the firm roundness of his ass and squeezed it savoringly.  God, I wanted to
do him right there on the floor.

"Easy," Damian whispered.  He pulled me back up and shifted his hands to my
lower back to keep my body immobile for the time being.  "Try to relax," he
told me breathlessly.  He gently pressed his hips into mine, then started
moving, slowly and seductively, keeping careful time with the music.  As the
song's tempo increased, so did ours.  Damian gyrated forward and bent me
backwards over his thigh a few times, intermittently increasing the pressure
between my legs.  Heat spread through my body like a wildfire.

Straddling him completely now, I grasped his shoulders to steady myself as
he cradled my buttocks in his large hands to keep us locked at the hips.  I
willingly surrendered myself to his rhythmic manipulations, letting him move
me however he wanted.  I knew he wouldn't hurt or humiliate me.  He had been
ordered to satisfy me and that's exactly what he was doing.  Closing my
eyes, I could feel the steady beat of the music pulsing inside me now as I
let my body melt into his and become like an extension of him.

Now, when he moved, I moved with him.  I suddenly realized we were dancing,
but it felt much more like making love.  He was very hard, and pressed so
close me, it almost felt like he was inside me.  The only difference I could
see between this and actual sex was the fact we were fully clothed, and
rubbing and shifting and grinding our bodies over each other in time to
music, therefore, all perfectly coordinated and much more gracefully
executed.

My mind was starting to blank out conscious thought and center on the
rippling sensations of pleasure that were coursing through me with
increasing frequency.  It made me want him even closer--just like the song
said, and feel his bare skin on mine.  I tore his already slashed shirt down
the front, nearly ripping it off him, raking his chest savagely with my
nails in the process.  He gasped, and immediately blood welled up from the
wounds so dark against the whiteness of his skin it looked black.  It was a
tantalizing sight.  I pressed my mouth over the scratches and laved them
with my tongue until they stopped bleeding.  I palmed his pale nipples and
then started sucking on them.  He groaned languidly.

The coolness of his body did little to quell the fires rampaging inside me
now.  In fact, it only made me more aware of him and more aware of
everything he did to me.

Before long, the ripples became waves, washing over every part of my body
until something like a tsunami crashed into my mind.  It sent me spiraling
down into murky blackness and for one luscious moment, I swear my heart
stopped.  I couldn't breathe or feel or hear.  It was like I had ceased to
exist.  Then suddenly I was alive again and screaming like I was being
tortured.  In a way I was, the ecstasy was so intense it was very nearly
painful.

Then I felt Damian gather me up in his arms and hold me, stroking my hair
and nuzzling my cheek until my body stopped convulsing.

"Are you all right, Anita?"

I thought that was a funny question and laughed, but then realized I was
actually laughing because I felt so damn good.  Damian tried to release me,
but I tightened my grip on him with something close to panic.

"No, no," I gasped finally.  "Just hold me for a minute.  Just a minute."
People were regarding us curiously, but for some reason it didn't really
bother me.  I just wanted him to stay close to me.

Damian obliged me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, and rocked me
gently.  He laid his cheek against my hair.

"I can't believe you're here," he said suddenly and brushed his lips against
my temple.  He emitted a short sharp laugh of surprise.  "I can't believe
you wanted that."

Placing my hands on his chest, I looked up at him and focused on his
smoldering eyes.  I sighed contentedly, then snuggled myself deeper into his
embrace.

"How are you feeling?"  This came from Asher, who almost magically appeared
at my side.  "All satiated and softly throbbing?"

"I'm fine," I murmured and eyed him suspiciously.  There was just a hint of
bitterness in his tone.

Asher glanced around uneasily.  "Then we must leave, Anita."  He addressed
Damian.  "Let her go."

I glared up at him.  I didn't give a damn about his discomfort at the
moment.  "Oh, fuck off, Asher."

He glared at me, then focused his attention back on Damian.  "We need to
talk to you.  Someplace private."

I froze.  It was as if I had forgotten why we were even here.  Realization
suddenly hit me and the weight of Asher's words felt suffocating and
nauseating.  My stomach sunk, quickly banishing my euphoria.  No time for
basking in the afterglow.

"Shit," I said, wiggling out of Damian's arms.  "He's right.  We came here
to talk to you."

Damian looked back and forth between Asher and me.  Then he nodded.  "All
right.  I'll meet you in the alley behind the club in about ten minutes.  I
need to find someone to cover for me while I'm gone."  He started moving off
the dance floor.  Asher and I followed.

With another flip of my stomach, I realized once we told him about the
edict, he wasn't going to be able to come back here.  I took a deep breath.
This wasn't going to be easy.  "Damian, why don't you just call it a night,"
I suggested, pushing people aside to catch up to him.  I looked back at
Asher.  He nodded in agreement.

Damian stopped walking.  "Then give me at least fifteen minutes.  I'll join
you as soon as I can."  He peered down at me and quickly searched my
expression for some clue as to what this was all about.  Then a flicker of
concern skidded across his face.  His eyes darkened a shade and he frowned
deeply.

"Have I done something wrong, Anita?  You seem a little apprehensive all of
a sudden," he asked.

I shook my head.  "Just hurry, okay?"

Damian continued to stare at me in frustration.  I knew exactly how he was
feeling having undergone the same hide and seek game with Jean-Claude
earlier.

"Why are you still standing there?" Asher pushed impatiently.  "You heard
her.  Now go."

Turning slowly, Damian locked his eyes on Asher's.  There was no emotion on
either vampire's face, but the tension rising between them was as thick as
pea soup.  I was just about to intercede to clear the air, but then Damian
suddenly whipped around on his heel and disappeared into the crowd.

I looked up at Asher and put my hands on my hips.  "Stop it right now," I
admonished him.

Ignoring me, Asher turned and began making his way towards the exit, parting
the crowd before him like Moses and the Red Sea.  I trotted after him.

It wasn't until we had reached the alley behind the club that I was able to
get close enough to him to speak with him again.

"Asher?"

He stopped and leaned his hips against the railing surrounding a stairwell.

"What?" he replied quietly, lowering his eyes to the pavement below.

I stalked up to him, petulantly crossing my arms over my chest.  I was short
enough, and stood close enough to him, to look up at him as he looked down
and capture his gaze.  He didn't like that, and averted his eyes, turning
his head to the side.  I reached up and grabbed his chin, pulling his head
back around until he was forced to look at me.  He didn't resist; in fact he
gazed rather longingly into my eyes.

I looked back at him with confusion.  I didn't understand his current mood.
  His expression unexpectedly hardened and he glared at me rather
menacingly.  His power poured over me like a blast of cold air.

"Now you look at me with uncertainty.  Before you looked at me with desire."

I released his chin with an exasperated sigh, and shook my head.  "I don't
have time for this, Asher," I muttered, opting to just walk away from him.

"Oh, by all means, ma cherie, please continue," Asher growled.  "Damian has
yet to join us.  You have plenty of time to tell me how nefarious you think
I am."

I stomped back over to him and pointed my finger at him accusingly.  "No,
because that's exactly what you want me to do and I'm not going to give you
the satisfaction."  I forced myself to step away again and hotly paced a
short distance in front of him.  "You want people to believe you're mean and
nasty because then they don't get too close.  You'd rather be alone and
miserable because that's what you're used to.  It hurts to care about people
sometimes so when you start to, you do an about face and scuttle back into
your warped comfort-zone as fast as you can and hide behind your scars."
Well....shit.

Asher didn't reply.  He merely stayed against the rail, watching me with a
careful, blank expression.  He reached inside his jacket and took out a
cigarette, lit it, and took a long restorative drag off it.

I stopped pacing and faced him.  I opened my arms entreatingly.  "Why are
you so angry at me all of a sudden?"

"I'm angry with myself," he said, bringing the cigarette back to his lips.
He inhaled it slowly, then blew the smoke forcefully from his nose.  "I
should know by now to just take what I can get and be thankful for whatever
crumbs come my way."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You."

"Me?  I'm suddenly crumbs or something?"  I still didn't understand.

Asher tossed the cigarette he'd been smoking to the ground and stepped on it
to extinguish it.  He fixed his eyes on mine and pursed his full lips,
thinking.  Then he shifted his weight and gracefully eased his hips up onto
the stairwell railing to perch there, one leg stretched out touching the
ground to balance himself.

"You offered me crumbs, but I wanted the main course.  I thought I did.  But
now I know I should have taken what you first offered.  I may not be offered
anything again."  Asher looked away then and frowned.  "It was very hard for
me, watching you with Damian, knowing I could have been the one to fulfill
your desire tonight.  But I didn't want you like that.  I wanted...more than
I am allowed to have."

Oh.  Now I got it.  Asher didn't just want to fuck me.  He wanted to make
love to me.  The main course he spoke of included things like privacy,
romance, foreplay...clean sheets on the bed.  But Jean-Claude had made it
clear to me that he wanted to be my only main course.  I could feed my
ardeur with any number of the studly males at my disposal, but I was not to
pursue anything with them beyond that.  I really couldn't argue with it too
much.  Jean-Claude was totally monogamous with me.  I refused to even let
him think about having sex with someone else.

I was just opening my mouth to reply to Asher, when the exit door opened,
and Damian slipped through.  He immediately locked his eyes on mine and
walked over to me.

He hadn't taken the time to shower or change, but he did lose the tee-shirt
I had destroyed and all the gold chains and slave bracelets had been
discarded.  He stood before me, bare-chested and rumpled, his expression one
of tense readiness.

"So," he began.  "What's this all about?"

"You've been slotted for execution, mon ami," Asher said, as casually as if
he'd been commenting on the weather.

I cringed and glanced over at him.  "Jesus, Asher.  Can we at least try to
break it to him gently?"  I turned my attention back on Damian.  Too late
now.

Damian's lovely green eyes were wide with fear.  He took a step back and
licked his lips.  "...When?"

I sighed and reached up to sweep the unruly hair from his brow.  "We have a
little less than two days now.  If Jean-Claude does not kill you himself by
then, the government will order a sanctioned hunt."

Damian stepped away from me further and wrapped his arms around himself as
if he were suddenly cold.  I wished there was some place he could sit down.
He looked so shaky I almost told Asher to get off the stairwell railing and
let him sit there.

"At least we know about it," I offered.  "Before, they used to just send in
the executioners.  Now they're trying to be polite first.  We have two days
to think of something.  We're not going to let you be killed."

Damian bowed his head.  "Why not?  I deserve to die," he mumbled.  "I've
always known I was living on borrowed time."  He slowly raised his eyes to
mine.  "Are you going to do it?"

For a split second, I didn't realize what he had meant.  Then my heart sunk
and skipped a beat.  I shook my head adamantly.  "No!  Of course not!"

Damian sighed rather wistfully.  "I'd rather have you kill me, Anita," he
replied calmly.  "Then I know you won't torture me, you'll make it quick and
painless and let me die with a little dignity at least."

"No!  No!" I nearly screamed, covering my ears with my hands.  I couldn't
bare to hear him even say such things.  "I'm not going to kill you!  No one
is going to kill you.  It's my fault you went insane.  It's my fault
Jean-Claude lost his power over you.  Now it's my responsibility to defend
you.  And I will, goddamnit, I swear I will."  My eyes suddenly stung with
tears.  My throat was so tight I could scarcely draw a breath.  Christ, they
thought the executioners tortured them before they killed them.  I guess in
some cases we did.

Tentatively, Damian stepped up to me and took me in his arms as if to
comfort me.  I fought back the tears and pushed away from him.  I was
supposed to be the one comforting him, not the other way around.

Asher was beside us now.  He regarded Damian thoughtfully.  "No one yet
knows who the executioner will be.  But one thing is for certain, mon ami.
You can't stay with Anita anymore.  It will put her in danger as well.  Is
there somewhere you can go?  Some other resting place?"

Damian shook his head with something close to panic in his eyes.  "I can't
leave Anita.  She's my master.  The only other place I could possibly go
would be the Circus, but I wouldn't want to do that either.  I don't want to
bring an executioner down there."  He looked over at me pleadingly.  "Don't
send me away.  You might as well kill me if you do.  I wouldn't be able to
survive without you."

I reached forward and cradled his head in my hands.  "I won't.  You'll stay
at my house as usual.  The leopards are there and if need be,  Micah and I
can call more in to protect us.  You've nearly gave your life for Nathaniel.
  They won't hesitate to help.  We'll see this through, I promise."

Damian frowned.  "But Asher's right.  If you do that, you'll be putting them
all in danger.  You'll be sacrificing them for me."

"We'll work it out."

"How?"

That stopped me cold.  I felt all my bravado abruptly deflate.  I hadn't
been able to think of just how I was going to pull this off yet.  It seemed
so impossible without a major blood bath ensuing, I didn't even really want
to think about it.  I turned and looked up at Asher, but he was looking at
me with the same expectation in his eyes that Damian had.

"Shit," I grumbled and turned away from them both.  If only we had more
time.  I could go before the courts, plead his case before the issuing
judge.  A vampire hunter's plea for clemency for a vampire ought to mean
something.  But that could take weeks, months even, depending on when I
could get a hearing.  First things first.  We needed to buy time.  I needed
to make Damian hard to find.  I needed to get him out of the city.  I'd have
to go with him, but that could be arranged painlessly enough.

"We could go to Tennessee," I suddenly announced.  "There's no master
vampire there to contend with.  We'll use Jean-Claude's jet.  I'll have
Richard contact Verne.  His pack can offer us sanctuary there until I can
work something out with the court system here.  All we need is a little more
time.  I can get a stay of execution issued with a little more time to play
with."

"And if you can't?" Asher said, the ever-present voice of doom.

I narrowed my eyes at him.  "One thing at a time, all right?  I'll worry
about that bridge when I cross it."  There.  Good God, this might actually
work.  I felt immensely better.  My mind was off and running now, plotting
everything down to what underwear I should bring with me.

********
********
It was still two hours before dawn.  I pulled my car into my driveway with a
sigh of relief.  We all climbed out and crept up to the front door quietly
so as not to wake anyone still sleeping inside.  I turned to Asher as I slid
the key in the lock.

"You don't have to go back," I told him.  "You can stay here.  I've got an
extra coffin in the basement you can use."  That sounded strange even to me.

Asher shook his head.  "I've done what I was told to do.  I must return."

I looked up at him longingly.  "Please Asher.  I would feel a lot better if
you stayed."  I would too.  Partly because Asher was fast becoming my rock
and I wanted him close, but then also, I did not want him confronting
Jean-Claude without me there to act as referee.  Well-armed if need be.

Clearly torn, Asher gazed back at me helplessly for a few moments, then he
faced Damian.  Damian gave him a knowing look in reply.

"I know.  Even if she wasn't my master, I could never refuse her anything
either," he informed the other vampire as if I wasn't even there.

I pushed open the door and moved to the side to let Damian in, then looked
back at Asher expectantly.

He stayed where he was just beyond the threshold.  "I have no change of
clothes here," he pointed out.

I frowned and put my hand on my hip.  "Now you're just making up excuses.
You know as well as I do, there are enough men in this house.  We'll find
you something."  I suddenly remembered that I had wanted to tell him how
nice he looked tonight.  "Actually I wouldn't mind if you want wear that
suit again.  You look very sexy and cosmopolitan in it.  I meant to tell you
that earlier but got a little distracted."

For a moment, Asher merely stared at me, his face void of expression.  Then
a coquettish smile slowly spread over his features.  He sighed and stepped
into the house.  I triumphantly closed and locked the door behind him.

"I'm pleased you like it," Asher began.  "But I don't think I'll wear it two
days in a row.  I'm going to have to sleep in it and it won't be salvageable
after that."

I shrugged.  "Whatever."  Vampires tended to be so fastidious about their
clothes.  I noticed Damian coming up from the basement.  I hadn't even
realized he had gone down there.  He had two pairs of silk pajama bottoms in
his hands.  He handed one to Asher.

"I knew you'd give in to her.  And I'm glad you did.  I feel better knowing
you're here too."  He paused and gestured at the pajama pants he'd given
Asher.  "Those should do for sleeping, I can't vouch for their propriety out
in public however," he continued softly.  "Anita will have to follow through
with her promise."

"Merci," Asher replied.  He threw his arm around Damian's neck and drew him
up against him in a semi-embrace.  He leaned his head close to Damian's ear
and whispered something I could not hear.  Damian nodded and smiled.  He
thumped Asher on the back affectionately before turning to face me.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a shower before I go
downstairs."

I nodded.  "Sure."  Suddenly I wanted to hug him too.  I couldn't help
myself.  I stepped up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, placing
my head on his shoulder.  He squeezed me tightly, then stroked my back
soothingly.  I finally released him and stretched up on my toes to kiss his
cheek.  "Sleep tight," I whispered.  He smiled down at me and then quickly
brushed his lips over mine before turning towards the bathroom.

I was going to ask Asher what he had said to Damian, but Asher wasn't there
anymore.  I sighed and dragged my hand through my hair.  Yeah, it was time
for me to go to bed too.

I tossed my car keys on the closest end table and stalked off towards my
bedroom, stripping off my jacket and shoulder holster on the way.

The sight that greeted my eyes as I entered the bedroom was welcoming
indeed.  Micah and Nathaniel both naked and curled up on opposite ends of
the bed with a perfect-sized space left in between for me.  I smiled,
stripped down to my panties and crawled in, not even bothering to put on a
night shirt.  I was too hot anyway.

********
I fell asleep right away, due to sheer emotional exhaustion I'm sure, but
woke again two hours later.  I tried to fall back asleep, snuggling close to
Micah's radiating warmth, but he was almost too warm and I couldn't get
comfortable.  My mind was already off and running anyway, trying to tally up
everything I needed to do today.  Resigned, I crawled out of bed, got
dressed, and went to make coffee.

I knew I was going to be up all night again with the vampires and decided to
try to catch a nap later this afternoon if at all possible.  I started off
making phone calls to the courthouse and the police station.  I set up
appointments, I arranged to have the paperwork started for a stay of
execution.  I tried to get them to tell me who the executioner was in this
case but that was confidential.  Then I called Animators Inc. and asked for
a leave of absence.  Of course, on such short notice, that went over well.

I called Richard and asked him to contact Verne and let him know I was
coming up for a visit, just a little get-away kind of thing.  I didn't want
Richard to know what I was up to.  It's not that I really believed he had
been the one to betray Damian, but for some reason I really didn't want to
tell him.  Besides, I was already one person past my quota for spilling the
beans.  Unfortunately, Richard seemed to suspect I wasn't telling him
everything and got pissed, but agreed to talk to Verne and get back to me
with the arrangements.

I spent the rest of the morning packing suitcases and doing laundry with
Nathaniel's help.  I sent Cherry and Zane and Gil to the Circus to get Asher
some clothes for the trip as well as for tonight.  As it turned out, none of
my men were as tall or as broad-shouldered as Asher was.  Zane was also
going to contact Jason about letting Jean-Claude know I needed to see him
tonight about using his private jet.  Then I talked to Micah about meeting
with his wereleopards to help the werewolves with security at the Circus
until Damian and I could get out of town.  I didn't really believe the
executioner would senselessly slaughter the other vampires in pursuit of
Damian, but I also didn't want to take any chances.

By noon I was running my errands like a chicken with its head cut off, and
also running on empty as far as energy went.  I was so exhausted, I never
once felt the ardeur.  A good thing.  Knowing I needed sleep and didn't
really have time for it was a very bad thing however.

I got home a little after four and called Richard again.  He hadn't been
able to reach Verne, but he promised me he would keep trying.  We made
tentative dinner plans at seven-thirty, supposedly to discuss my sudden need
for a holiday.  I think he was reading New Mexico into it all over again and
was getting too worked up about it.  Now I would have to try to convince him
I really did want to just get away to the mountains for awhile.  With my
usual entourage and a couple of vampires thrown in for good measure.  God,
lying was becoming easier and easier for me out of sheer necessity.  I think
hanging around Jean-Claude had something to do with that.

I went into the bedroom to change out of my suit and into something more
casual and comfortable for the night, but saw the bed all invitingly cozy
and downy-soft-looking and that's all she wrote.  I got my clothes off,
letting them fall to the floor where they may.  Just for a few minutes, I
thought, and had no sooner sprawled out on the bed before I was fast asleep.

"Anita, you can't go to sleep now," Micah's deep voice rumbled through my
hazy mind, waking me, minutes later.  He turned on the lamp beside the bed.

I pried open my eyes and moaned.  "I have to," I murmured.  "Just for ten
minutes...pleeeease?"

Micah laughed lightly, sympathetically.  He knelt down next to me at the
side of the bed and passed his hand over my back in a circular motion.  "But
the courthouse administration offices close at five.  Didn't you say you
needed to be back there before then to get your paperwork filed?  And you're
supposed to meet Richard at seven-thirty.  If you fall asleep now, you're
not going to want to wake up in ten minutes."  He leaned over and nuzzled
the side of my neck.  "You can sleep tomorrow on the plane."

I knew I wouldn't sleep a wink on the plane.  I hated flying.  "Micah, would
you take the paperwork in for me?" I half-begged, forcing myself up on my
elbows to face him better.  "Oh and before your meeting can you drop off the
payment for the van I'm renting to take the coffins to the airport in?"

Micah sighed.  "I can do all that, but what about Richard?" he asked, his
hand trailing over my exposed breast.  I pushed him away from me so I could
think.

"Richard?  Well, I guess I can still meet with him," I answered drowsily.
"Just let me sleep for a few more minutes," I murmured, "then have Nathaniel
or somebody wake me...and I'll go."  I leaned forward just to kiss him
good-bye, but his lips were so enticingly warm and satiny-soft against mine,
my kiss became rather passionate.  I couldn't help myself.

Micah pushed me back now, somewhat breathlessly.  "Then stop kissing me like
that and go back to sleep," he urged.  He smiled sweetly and cradled my face
in his hands, then kissed my eyes close.  "I'll wake you later."  He slid
off the bed and I snuggled back into the downy comforter with a long,
contented sigh.  Ah, bliss.

********
I dreamt of making love with Micah on a tropical beach under the hot sun,
his body gleaming and golden under the intensity of its rays.  Sand was
shimmering like tiny gemstones on his chest and in his dark brown hair.

And then black clouds began to roll in.  They blocked the sun.  Lightening
started crackling all around us and the wind buffeted my face.  The sand
became rocks, pelting me mercilessly.  I felt cold and Micah's body no
longer warmed me.  Thunder rumbled threateningly overhead and I knew I had
to get away.

I looked up at Micah, but he was suddenly Damian.  The wind was whipping
through his red hair as he continued to love me through the rising storm.  I
felt the first tremors of his orgasm deep inside of me as his body locked
against mine.  He cried out, his voice carried away by the raging wind.
Then I saw the lightening explode from the sky and strike Damian through the
heart.  He vanished from my embrace in a puff of black smoke.

********
I stirred, feeling agitated and groggy.  Someone was on the bed with me,
murmuring to me, encouraging me to wake up.  At first, I thought it was
Micah again.  But the skin on this body was cool on the surface with a deep
underlying warmth.  It was also ridged and furrowed savagely on one side,
curvey and smooth on the other.  My eyes flew open with realization.  I was
wide awake now.

Asher was stretched out on his side next to me, propped up on his elbow.  He
was gazing down at me fondly, a slight smile playing on his lips.  His long
golden hair hung in a glossy veil of silk around my face.  It effectively
prevented me from seeing anything beyond him and I felt the intimacy of it
clench my insides.

His slightly callused fingertips stroked the side of my face and traced the
top of my ear.  "Ma cherie, you were dreaming," he whispered, his cultured
voice like velvet, all soft and sensuous.

"I know."  I blinked up at him and swallowed dryly, acutely aware of the
fact that I was totally naked beside him.  At least he was partially
clothed, still wearing the light blue silk pajama pants Damian had lent him.
  I tried to shift away from him, but his weight had formed a deep pocket in
the mattress next to me.  I couldn't move without rolling into him.  I
stayed put.  "Asher, what are you doing here?"

His eyes seemed to dim a little and he drew back from me slightly.  "You
asked me to stay this morning, don't you remember?"

I grappled for the sheet next to me and pulled it up.  Yeah, he had seen me
nude before, but I could never get the knack of feeling entirely at ease
holding a casual conversation while stark naked.

"Don't be facetious, Asher.  You know what I mean," I clarified, my tone a
little sharper than I had intended it to be.  His proximity was unnerving
me, making me feel things I wasn't sure I was completely ready to feel with
him.  Needless to say, I didn't bother telling him to get off the bed.

Asher looked away from me and pretended to study the contents of my bedroom.
  "Micah had asked me to wake you in time for your meeting with Richard, but
Richard had called shortly after he left.  He wanted me to let you know he
regrets he cannot make the dinner tonight."

I sighed.  "Figures."  I glanced at my alarm clock.  Seven-fifteen.  Oh
well.

"I looked in on you," Asher continued softly.  "But you were in such a deep
sleep, I decided not to wake you."  Asher paused and turned to face me
again.  He suddenly looked embarrassed and more than a little apologetic.
"I was going to leave, but then you started dreaming.  You became so
agitated, I came over to calm you."  There must have been something in my
eyes that told him he had done something taboo because he suddenly dropped
his gaze and swallowed uneasily.  "You pulled me onto the bed and into your
arms.  I should have tried harder to make you let go of me.  But I didn't.
I didn't try at all.  I am sorry."

He rolled away from me, leaving the space he had occupied beside me
conspicuously empty feeling.  I watched him rise gracefully from the bed,
the muscles of his back shifting fluidly beneath his skin.  His back was
untouched by the scars, his creamy skin was as smooth and perfect as it had
always been.

I had a sudden vision of watching Asher's back bathed in moonlight, his
naked body stretched over a black-haired woman lying beneath him.  His
muscles rippled with the rhythmic movement of his hips as he pleasured her.
I saw her pale hands stroke his sides, slithering past his waist to the hard
curve of his buttocks.  Her long red nails dug deep and with one powerful
upsweep of her hands, she ripped his skin suddenly, spewing blood.  I
gasped.

Asher half-turned to face me and cocked his head questioningly.

"Another memory," I whispered.  "Not a very nice one."  I closed my eyes and
shook my head to clear the image away.

"I'm sorry you remembered it then," he offered.

"Don't apologize," I said.  "It wasn't your fault."  I meant that for more
than just the memory and hoped he realized that.  I looked up at him, taking
in the sight of his sinewy torso--his skin as white as a cloud, his thick,
wavy hair--gold like the rays of the sun, and the pale blue pajama bottoms
he wore were the exact color of heaven.  He looked like an autumn sky
standing there in the soft yellow light of my bedside lamp.

Asher furrowed his brow.  "Why are you looking at me like that?" he said
quietly.  He abruptly turned and started for the door, then stopped and
faced me again.  "Don't you realize how much harder it is becoming for me to
walk away each time you do?"  There was something very close to pain
reflected in his eyes.

I shifted slightly in the bed and sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest.
I had to pry my eyes off of from him.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't know.  I only
do it because...you're so enchanting, I can't seem to stop myself.  I'll try
not to do it anymore, now that I know it actually bothers you."

Shaking his head, Asher moved back to the side of my bed.  He sat down
carefully.  "No.  No, I didn't mean that.  Don't ever stop looking at me
that way, Anita."  He reached out and cupped my chin in his hand, raising my
face to his.  His eyes fixed on mine, boring holes right through to my soul.
  "It's all I have," he continued, his voice so soft and low I could barely
hear him.

I leaned forward, letting the sheet slip from my grasp.  Suddenly I wasn't
so concerned about being naked.  I reached up and slid my fingers over his
temples and into his hair.  "Kiss me," I breathed, drawing his face down to
mine.

The pain in Asher's eyes and the tension in his body seemed to fade away.
He eased his soft, cool lips over mine, his hands moving to cradle my head.
I felt his mouth open encouragingly.  I obliged him and he drew my lower lip
carefully between his teeth, sucking it gently and stroking it with his
tongue.

The pressure of his mouth on mine was intoxicating me.  This time I didn't
feel the same flow of supernatural power, but there was still definitely
something about the way he kissed.  All his love, his passion, his heartache
and need poured into me and I drank it down like I was dying of thirst.

I whimpered, closing my eyes, and wrapped my arms around his neck.  He
deepened the kiss, easing me back down to my pillow, and shifted his weight
over me, pressing the smooth left side of his body to mine.  I felt the back
of his hand move down my neck to my collar bone and pause.  He delicately
caressed my scars.  I reciprocated and trailed my fingers over his ravaged
cheek, then pulled my mouth from his to kiss him there.

He exhaled forcibly and began nibbling on my ear and down the side of my
neck, before raising his head to capture my mouth once more.  His hand
continued on to my breast, covering my nipple, passing his palm over it
until it hardened, then he grasped it between his fingers and squeezed it
ever so gently.  I felt the sensation of it sharply between my legs and in
that instant I knew I wanted him to make love to me more than anything else
in the world.

I was ready to pin the blame on the ardeur, but I realized my desire for him
was just plain old-fashioned need.  There was nothing magical about it.  It
was a liberating insight of sorts.  As a subtle hint, I pressed my thigh
against his hip and rubbed my heel over his firm butt.

"Asher," I breathed.  It was hard to say anything beyond that.  I tried
again, but he kissed me again so passionately, I forgot what I was going to
tell him.  My lips were going numb and I couldn't speak anyway with his
mouth devouring mine the way it was.  I dragged my hands down his side and
tugged at the knot fastening the waistband of those sky blue pajamas.  A
not-so-subtle hint.

He stopped kissing me and bent his head over my breast, his mouth hovering
above it so close I could feel his cool breath on my skin.  "What do you
want, ma cherie?" he whispered, then dropped a quick kiss on my achingly
taunt nipple.  "Tell me.  Tell me now."

I actually had to stop and think.  "Make love to me," I half-gasped as his
tongue flicked out to lick my breast.  "Please....God, please."

I expected him to immediately get up and either start stripping, or get up
and walk out of the room, but instead, he sighed heavily and lay his head on
my chest.

For a long moment, he neither said nor did anything.  Finally: "Do you trust
me?" he whispered suddenly.

I swallowed uneasily but nodded.  "Yes."

He rose off me then and moved to kneel at the foot of the bed.  "Lie back,"
he told me.  "And relax.  I won't hurt you, I swear it."

I laid flat on my back and tried to relax, but I was getting tenser by the
minute.  I began to wonder if he was going to bite me.  I hadn't told him
not to.  Asher had bitten me once before.  It didn't hurt.  In fact, it
nearly blew my mind with ecstasy.

I suddenly felt Asher's hands on my thighs and jumped slightly, raising my
head off the pillow to watch what he was doing.

"No blood, Asher," I quickly warned.

He shook his head slowly.  "I wouldn't think of it, cherie," he cooed at me
and stroked my thighs with long languid caresses until he felt my tension
fade.  Then he spread my legs tentatively, and eased his body down on the
bed, positioning his shoulders between my knees.  He entwined his arms
around them, holding my legs open.  Slowly, he lowered his head, his full
lips parting to bestow a kiss of a different kind.

I suddenly knew what he was about to do and the very thought of it made me
squirm in anticipation.  He misread it, hesitating, and looked up at me as
if asking my permission to continue.  His eyes were like ice in a fire,
smoldering with need.  At this point, I was powerless to stop him.  I wanted
this kind of intimacy with him.  And I wanted the pleasure I knew he could
give me.  I couldn't resist that gaze anyway, even though there was nothing
supernatural about it other than its ethereal seduction.

"Yes," I sighed.  I was never so sure about anything in my life.  "Yes."

His lips immediately descended down on me and with that first exquisite
touch, my entire body quivered.  Burying my fingers in his hair, I closed my
eyes and settled my head back on the pillow in absolute surrender.
 
 

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