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" Jean-Claude was inthe hallway. I hadn't heard him walk up. But I'd been distracted, talking with Richard. Yeah, that was it.
"Could you stamp your feet next time? I'm getting sick of you sneaking up on me."
"I wasn't sneaking, ma petite . You were distracted talking to our handsome Mr. Zeeman." His voice was pleasant, mild as honey, and yet there was a threat to it. You could feel it like a cold wind down your spine.
"What's wrong, Jean-Claude?" I asked.
"Wrong? What could possibly be wrong?" Anger and some bitter amusement flowed through his voice.
"Cut it out, Jean-Claude."
"Whatever could be the matter, ma petite ?"
"You're angry; why?"
"My human servant does not know my every mood. Shameful." He knelt beside me. The blood on his white shirt had dried to a brownish stain that took up most of the shirt front. The lace at his sleeves looked like crumpled brown flowers. "Do you lust after Richard because he's handsome, or because he's human?" His voice was almost a whisper, intimate as if he'd said something entirely different. Jean-Claude whispered better than anyone else I knew.
"I don't lust after him."
"Come, come, ma petite . No lies." He leaned towards me, long-fingered hand reaching for my cheek. There was dried blood on his hand.
"You've got blood under your fingernails," I said.
He flinched, his hand squeezing into a fist. Point for my side. "You reject me at every turn. Why do I put up with it?"
"I don't know," I said, truthfully. "I keep hoping you'll get tired of me."
"I am hoping to have you with me forever, ma petite . I would not make the offer if I thought I would grow bored."
"I think I would get tired of you," I said.
His eyes widened a bit. I think it was real surprise. "You are trying to taunt me."
I shrugged. "Yes, but it's still the truth. I'm attracted to you, but I don't love you. We don't have stimulating conversations. I don't go through my day saying 'I must remember to share that joke with Jean-Claude, or tell him about what happened at work tonight. I ignore you when you let me. The only things we have in common are violence and the dead. I don't think that's much to base a relationship on."
"My, aren't we the philosopher tonight." His midnight blue eyes were only inches from mine. The eyelashes looked like black lace.
"Just being honest."
"We wouldn't want you to be less than honest," he said. "I know how you despise lies." He glanced at Richard. "How you despise monsters.
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