"When you deserted us for more than half a year. We had a lot of time to talk, and I had a lot of questions."

I couldn't argue with the "deserted us" part, so I ignored it. "I asked him once if his body and face were vampire tricks, and he said no."

"Vampire tricks aren't real," Richard said, "this," and he motioned at Damian with his good arm, "is."

"But Damian's been a vampire for a long time; if this kind of change was going to kick in, then it should have done it by now."

"I'm not of Belle's line," Damian said. He was touching his face with just the tips of his fingers, as if that made it less awful, or something.

"But Anita is," Richard said. "Through her ties to Jean-Claude, she is a part of Belle's line."

"I'm not a vampire," I said.

"You feed like one," he said.

Anger was finally rearing its ugly comforting head. If I could get mad, I'd feel better, and Richard's presence wouldn't bother me so much. "You're as tied to Jean-Claude as I am. It's only luck that's kept the ardeur from you, Richard. Next time we get an extra special treat, maybe it'll be your turn."

"I can't heal with sex, and it looks like you can."

"Did you raise the munin when you were with Damian?" Dr. Lillian asked.

I shook my head. "I'd have noticed Raina being around. She's sort of hard to miss." I heard a distant echo in my head, Raina's "ghost" saying, so glad you noticed. I shut that particular metaphysical door tight, locked it, and bound it with silver chains. All metaphorical, or metaphysical, but all real just the same. A part of Raina lived inside me, and nothing I could do seemed able to rid me of her completely. I could control her to a point, but not exorcise her from me. God knows I'd tried.

"If it wasn't Raina, then one of you was able to heal during the sex," Dr. Lillian said. She said it like it was just logical. Two plus two is four, that kind of thing.

I was shaking my head long before I realized I was doing it. Shaking my head over and over. "I didn't do this."

"Then who did?" Richard asked. His face wore the arrogance of his anger. When he looked like that, he was both more handsome somehow, and less approachable. It was one of the few times I was sure that Richard was aware of just how handsome he was, when he was angry enough to want to strike out and cause someone pain. Why does anger make people pretty? Rage doesn't. Rage makes you ugly, but a little anger, that just seems to add spice. One of nature's cruelties, or maybe it's to keep us from killing each other more often.

"I don't know, but he didn't look like this after the sex. He didn't look like this in the bathroom when Mor... she-who-made-him popped up. He didn't look like this in the hallway," I took a step closer to Richard, "or the bedroom," another step, "or the living room." Another step, and I was as close to him as I could stand and still see his face comfortably. He was almost a foot taller than I was, there were angle issues.

"The closest person connected to Jean-Claude in this room at that moment wasn't me."

He looked down that perfect profile at me. "I didn't go near him."

"Jean-Claude might know the answer to this," Micah said. He was behind me, not too close, but close enough that if I'd done something stupid, I wondered if he'd planned on interfering.

"Micah is right," Dr. Lillian said.

"Yeah, Micah is always right," Richard said, and his voice held emotions the words didn't even hint at. It was the first real sign of jealousy I'd seen. Part of me was happy about it, and the moment that tiny glad spark reared it's ugly head, I knew better. I was ashamed of myself, and I hate that.

"Most of the time he is right," but my voice wasn't angry. We needed answers, not temper tantrums. I made a motion with both hands. "If you'll let me get to the phone."

He moved, but looked puzzled. For a second, I wondered if he'd been picking a fight on purpose, and if he had been, why? Picking fights was more my thing than Richard's. Later. I'd worry about it later.

I had my hand on the phone, when it rang, which scared me. "Shit!" I picked up the receiver and must have sounded at least a little angry, because Jean-Claude said, "What has happened now, ma petite? "

I was so relieved to hear his voice, I forgot to be mad. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear your voice."

"I can hear the relief in your voice, ma pet ite. Again, I ask, what else has happened?"

"How do you know anything happened?" I asked, and was already willing to be suspicious.

"I felt Damian's master flee from your and Richard's emotions. Only the two of you could turn such a simple thing as lust into something so"—he seemed unable to find a word and finally settled for—"disappointing."

"You're talking to the wrong third of the triumvirate, Jean-Claude. I can put him on, if you want to talk to him."

" Non, non, tell me what is happening."

"Can't you read my mind? Everyone else seems to be able to."

" Ma petite, do we have time for childishness?"

"No," I said sullenly, "but Richard tells me that some vamps in Belle's line turn prettier after a while. Is that true?"

"The change from human to vampire can bring on small changes to the appearance. It is rare even for Belle's line, but oui, it does happen."

"So you really weren't this beautiful once."

"As I told our inquisitive Richard, I do not know. I know that many acted as if I were this beautiful, but I have no paintings of my old face. I have no way to remember after centuries. I honestly do not know for certain. Belle never made much of any of us that changed, because she enjoyed the false rumors that her touch beautified all. If she fussed about those who did become more lovely, then it would tarnish her legend. You have met her, ma petite, she likes her legend."

I shivered. I'd met Belle, secondhand, through a metaphysical possession or two. She was scary, and not just because of how powerful she was. She was scary because of her character flaws, a certain blindness to anything she didn't understand, like love, friendship, commitment as opposed to slavery. She didn't seem to see much difference between the two.

"Yeah, Belle likes her legend so much, she's beginning to believe it."

"As you like, ma petite, but it makes it difficult to find truth in her court."

"Fine, we'll never know if you and Asher were this beautiful before."

"Asher says his hair was not the color of gold before, so that we do know."

I was getting distracted. "Okay, fine, but the point is, when did the beautification take place?"

"You became a vampire, and when you rose the first night you were changed. Due to the vicious nature of some when they experience their first blood lust, it is not always easy to see beauty, but it happens soon after they are brought into their new lives."

I didn't argue the life part, I'd been too confused too long about what was life and what wasn't. "So after a thousand years, you are what you are, right?"

There was silence on the other end of the phone. I couldn't even hear him breathing, which didn't mean anything, he didn't always have to breathe. "Has something happened to Damian? Something more?"