Blacker than Black (32 page)

“No.” His gaze flashes with anger, but it ebbs away into the ether, no real heat. “Because it’s taboo for us to speak of it.”

“What, it’s perfectly acceptable for you to dry-hump me on the couch in your office, but you would rather not talk about sex with me?” I sound biting, scathing, resentful. But Garthelle is being every bit as crass and inconsiderate,
without even trying
. I think it hurts more that he does it so inadvertently. If it were intentional, it would be much easier to defend myself without appearing as if I cared. Without, in fact, caring a whit.

“Stop twisting my words, Black. That’s not what I said, and it’s certainly not what I meant.”

I lean back into the couch and drain my wine, then stare at him. I know, I
know,
that
lyche
are all a heartless, uncaring lot. Why I let myself forget, let myself secretly hope he was different, I don’t know. He’s not. He’s not different, because that would apparently mean breaking all the rules and going against the grain of his nature.

Gaia forbid.

“Tell me what you meant, then. Please.”

He can feel my shifts in emotion, and through them, something of my thought processes, just as I can his. Maybe more—I’m more emotional than he, and his nature makes him more sensitive to the fluctuations. His flare of anger is real this time, and it doesn’t bleed away. Good. I can handle angry. I know how to confront hatred and rage. It’s just par for the course. I wonder how long it will take me to walk home?

Which home, Black?

The voice in the back of my head needs to just shut the fuck up. Seriously. Besieged from all directions at once is a tad bit unfair. Damn Garthelle to the third level of hell and back again, anyways.

“I have every intention of telling you. And you’re going to sit there and listen to me, too. You will hear me out without—” He cuts off when I roll my eyes and cross my arms. Yes, I’m being petulant and childish. But so what? This is how he expects me to behave, so I’ll give it to him full-bore. “Damn it, Black,” he snarls, slamming his wineglass down on the coffee table. He buries his face in his hands, elbows braced on his legs, and silence descends on the room yet again.

I’m not a prostitute. I’ve gone out of my way to avoid that stigma, in fact, thus far in my life. He had no right to have such expectations of me. Surely he wasn’t so ignorant as to believe Nightwalker and streetwalker are one and the same?

Do they all see us that way?

Maybe the two
are
the same and it’s just a point of contention, a delineation we create for ourselves so we can look down on one another. Humanity is rather adept at doing that. History bears the proof.

Bullies, all of us. Every one.

Because if we’re the same in the eyes of the
lyche
, well . . . then
obviously
there’s no difference. They’re the ruling class in this remade world, after all.

I push up off the couch and consider throwing the wineglass against the far wall before setting it on the edge of the coffee table. And then I head for the door.

Wherever my sister is, I’m sure she could use someone to watch her back. Damn him for making me start to care. My eyesight’s blurring again by the time I get my fingers wrapped around the doorknob.

“Black, stop.”

I tighten my fingers around grooved obsidian. “Please,” I mutter under my breath, twisting my wrist.

“Please?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and rest my forehead on the heavy wood of the door. Damn his sensitive hearing, anyways. “Just walk away. You can do it. He doesn’t give a fuck about you beyond his own vulnerability. None of this matters. None of it, except that Jhez is somewhere in this place with a vamp or two for an audience, alone.”

Although I’m certain he can hear my private tirade, he doesn’t comment, offer rebuttal, or interrupt. Like he’s waiting for me to talk myself through it, argue my way back around in a circle, and go sit down. Fuck that. I slump against the door and cross my arms, refuse to look at him.

He seriously needs some paintings on the walls. Or something. There’s not a single personal touch anywhere in the room, now that I really look around and notice the details. No vase of flowers, or statues, or even paperweights on the desk. Nothing.

What is with that, anyways?

I can’t say the same of his flat. There’s no way a sane interior decorator would deign to use a theme of black on black like that. Not even a
lyche
designer. My stint as entertainment the other night demonstrated as much. Despite any physiological differences, or even socio-cultural ones, the
lyche
were all as unique and vibrant as any bisection of humanity from any time period in history.

So it’s safe to say he doesn’t consider this space personal. Interesting. Nothing but calm, muted tones that complement each other and blend well together. Safe, inoffensive, soothing.

Yeah. Definitely not his style. Odd.

“Are you going to sit back down?” At the sound of his voice, my skin tingles and a flush of heat surges through me. I might suffocate from the tension in my chest, if I dare exhale again. Worse than it was before I tried to block it—what I thought was the aftereffect of an unusually deep tap. Getting the distinct impression that I may have been wrong in that assumption.

I feel calmer and more rational with some space between us. Best if I stay where I am. It’s not that I don’t want to have this conversation—I want to. The drugs are wearing off and my sensitivity to him is returning full force. I don’t know that I’ll be able to string together a coherent sentence if he touches me.

For the second time in an hour, I sit on the floor. “Talk to me. I’m listening.”

He chafes a hand along his jaw, drops his head forward and scratches at the back of his neck. He glances over at me, grimaces, and stares at his wineglass, rolling it between his palms.

“One of the first things I was taught about my abilities was that I had the power to give as well as take. If a
lyche
orgasms with someone other than a human, the exchange of energy is not one-sided. It’s more of a balancing, opening the flow in both directions. Like the sluice gate in a canal. When you open one up, the water flows to where the level is lowest. What I did just now was different from that first time in any number of ways. I tapped you, just as I did then. And I drew deep, just as I did then. The difference is that this time it didn’t matter how greedy I got. I gave back what I didn’t need.”

“It wasn’t just my chi, my energy that flowed back into me, though.”

He shakes his head. “No, it wasn’t. Another rule of fluidity, you might say. Pour milk into water and you can’t hope to separate the two, can you? Energy is much the same. So yes, some of what ebbed back into you was my chi, not yours.”

What was so horrendous about telling me that, that it felt like pulling teeth?

“So this happens with a mutt as well as a
lyche
?” I let my head thump back against the door, too drained to bother maintaining any tension. The sound echoes through the room, and I grimace.

“It rarely does.
Lyche
aren’t the sharing sort. The stronger would lose a good bit of the energy he’d invested time and effort in culling.”

Oh, nice word choice there. Culling. I wonder if that’s the politically correct terminology. “You mean to tell me you guys don’t have sex with each other, just humans?” I sound skeptical, with good reason. Streetwalkers don’t last that long. Seems to me if they were that important, the
lyche
would take greater care to preserve them. Or something.

“Yes. No.” Garthelle chafes a hand across his face, a swift, curt movement. “I honestly don’t know. Tapping doesn’t always happen in conjunction with sex, as you well know. Nor is the reverse necessarily true, either. I think, though, that one is rather empty—unsatisfying—without the other.”

“So you can give chi back to a human, then?” If that is what he’s getting at, it’s monumental. I realize that
lyche
, being what they are, would hardly deign to accommodate such generosity.

“No, Black. It doesn’t work that way with humans. Only other
lyche
. Don’t you see? The fact that the energy between us leveled like that . . .” His voice grows hoarse and trails off. The clink of his wineglass is eerie and loud in the silence. I hear him swallow. “You’re not
lyche
, but you’re not human either. You’re mutt: an abomination, as far as most of us are concerned.”

It takes me a moment to suppress my immediate response and formulate something intelligent. “We covered all this. We’ve already established the fact that Jhez and I are unique in that most half-breeds of our type are drained at a very young age. As soon as we’re
discovered
. I think that’s the word you used.”

“Not all of us do that, you know. It’s an accepted culling method, but not in all circles. It’s not just that you’re a half-breed, though. You’re strong, more
lyche
than human, and I don’t understand why that is. You shouldn’t be able to blend energy with me like that. I’ve never heard of it happening with a mutt.” His wineglass clinks against the coffee table as he sets it down with a half-attentive slap. “Can your sister do this also?” The thread of emotion in his voice feels like borderline panic.

“I don’t know,” I answer, keying my voice low. I’m not really interested in seeing him have a full-blown panic attack. “You know how my sister feels about
lyche
. I highly doubt she’d deign to have sex with one unless forced.” My mouth feels dry suddenly, and I lick my lips. “None of your guests would dare to force her, would they?”

He starts to get up, then sinks back into the seat of the couch. He does this a couple times, in a disturbing rocking motion. His long-fingered hands steeple together, tap rhythmically against his lips. “No.” He takes a long breath and exhales slowly, squeezing his eyes shut. “No, I don’t think any of them would dare.”

“How do you mean?”

“Forcing her, whether physically or mentally, would be a challenge to my position and authority. I’d kill the guilty party without a moment’s hesitation, and they know that.”

Oh. Well that’s good to know. What a relief!

“Come sit down, Black.” The heat in my skin flushes at the prospect of being closer to him. Damn it, no. What I want are more answers.

“Tell me, Leonard,” I say, pushing up off the floor. Not obedience, just a concession. “Tell me why there’s an aural sympathy between us.” It’s the best way I can think of to describe it, still. “Is it because of the energy balancing? Does that mean it will wear off when the trace of your chi does?”

“You’re the chi-thief; you’ve done this trick many times, pulling from the one tapping you. But you’ve never felt this reaction before?”

I shrug and perch on the arm of the couch. “Never like this. It’s usually muted, and wears off within a couple days. This doesn’t happen with
lyche
?”

He doesn’t turn his head, but he does glance at me before focusing on his refilled wineglass. “I wouldn’t know. Would you like some more wine?” Without waiting for my answer, he grabs the neck of the bottle and refills my glass. His hand isn’t entirely steady.

“What do you mean by that? You’re
lyche
. Why wouldn’t you know?”

He glares at his wine for a moment, then trains the angry expression on me. Resentment shimmers through his features, burns from his yellow eyes. “I wouldn’t know because I’ve never fucked another
lyche
before.”

Oh. Managed to put your foot in your mouth again, didn’t you, Black? “I don’t know why the hell not.” Far from hard on the eyes. Among other things. No, not thinking about that right now.

Garthelle looks about ready to rip my head from my shoulders. “Because everything is about control. About dominance and power. It’s all maneuvering and political shifts. One of the only times two
lyche
would deign to share an equaling of power that way would be in conjunction with an alliance agreement. To ensure a level playing field where neither side can be accused of having the upper hand. I have never, nor do I ever intend to, subject myself to that circumstance.”

Yeesh. I don’t envy them their sex lives, then, that’s for sure. Why the hell are they proliferating, though? Shouldn’t they be extinct? Where’s Jhez when I get my hands on a really juicy tidbit? Seriously, she would
love
to hear this. She might expire from laughing so hard, but by Gaia it would be worth it.

A chill runs through me. I’m probably lucky to have survived as long as I have without being found out and exploited by some vampire long before now. Both of us are.

“So this too shall pass, am I right?” I’m just a mutt, which makes all this shit about
lyche
to
lyche
akin to fitting a square peg in a round hole. I’m taking a shot in the dark. I need some reassurance he has some idea of what’s going on. Even if he doesn’t.

He cants his head a fraction. “If I stop tapping you, I expect it will. Eventually.”

Vaguest of time frames then. Leonard has no idea how long it will take. He doesn’t know if that qualifier can be met, either.
If I stop tapping you.
I can sense that. I can also see the bulge in his groin. It wasn’t in evidence when I first walked back over here and perched on the couch, but it seems our close proximity affects him as much as it does me.

Small consolation, knowing this isn’t one-sided. Because my mind is wandering, and it’s growing increasingly difficult to think straight. I’m already at enough of a disadvantage, as those things are measured.

“This equalization. How much did it lower your strength?” I’m thinking if it’s noticeable, he’ll find it a simple matter to resist tapping me in the future.

He shatters my hopes with a faint smile. “It didn’t.”

I’m pretty sure my eyebrows are trying to merge with my hairline. Don’t think it’s possible, really, but it feels that way. I make a concerted effort to smooth my features and look calm. “Is that so.”

“Your chi is much stronger than you realize. Is that so surprising?”

Wait a second, that doesn’t make any sense. I just spent the other evening having any number of
lyche
tap my chi. Those boosters work well, but not that well.