these strangers." He lowered his head, both hands gripping mine. He finally raised his face, and he was crying. "Please, Anita, please, do not cast me aside so easily. I know that you did not enjoy the attentions I gave you as much as I enjoyed die touch of your body. But I will be better, I swear it, if only you will give me another chance to show you pleasure. I was trying to be too careful of you. I did not understand. I can do better, be better." He buried his face against my legs, and wept.

"I believe we have our answer, ma petite."

I stroked Requiem's hair, and didn't know what he was talking about. I was too stunned to think. "Answer to what?" I asked.

"The effect you have on vampires that have tasted the ardeur before. I think you are addictive, as Belle was addictive." He motioned toward Requiem, who was clutching at me, still weeping into my legs. "He is powerful enough to be a Master of a City, ma petite, not powerful in the way of Augustine, or myself, but powerful. He lacks not power, but ambition. He does not wish to rule."

"There is no shame to that," Elinore said.

"Non," Jean-Claude said, "but I want ma petite to understand that her effect on Requiem is not a small thing."

Elinore had sat back in the chair, curling her legs under her, because her feet wouldn't have reached the ground. "I had no idea she had bespelled him like this."

"I didn't bespell him," I said.

She gave me a look and motioned at the vampire at my feet. "Pick a different word if you like, Anita, but the effect is the same. We can argue semantics, but Requiem is besotted with you in a way most unnatural."

I stroked his hair, so straight and thick, but not warm. He was cool to the touch. "He needs to feed," I said. "Healing is going to take a lot of blood and energy."

"I don't think blood will cure this," Elinore said, and her voice sounded almost accusatory.

"What do you want from me, Elinore? What do you want me to do?"

"Make him your lover," she said.

"I have four men that I'm the only sex they're getting, and two more that are in my bed some of the time. Hell, Jason makes it into my bed about once a month."

"Exactly," Elinore said, "one more will hardly make a difference."

"If it were just sex, maybe, but it's not just sex. It's the emotional stuff. I don't even know if there's enough of me to go around for five men, plus extras. Call me crazy, but I don't think Requiem is a low-needs item." I stroked