lh.narcissusinchains-第6部分

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in。　The　outfit　was　so　eye…catching　that　it　took　me　a　moment　to　realize　just　how　sheer　the　cloth　was。　What　I　was　really　seeing　wasn't　the　silver；　but　Jason's　skin　through　a　veil　of　glitter。　The　outfit；　which　left　precious　little　to　the　imagination；　ended　in　calf…high　gray　boots。
　I　had　to　make　myself　look　at　his　face；　because　I　was　still　shaking　my　head　over　the　outfit。　The　outfit　didn't　look　fortable；　but　of　course；　Jason　rarely　plained　about　his　clothes。　He　was　like　Jean…Claude's　little　dress…up　werewolf；　as　well　as　morning　snack。　Sometimes　bodyguard　and　sometimes　a　fetch…and…carry　boy。　Who　else　could　Jean…Claude　get　to　stand　out　in　the　cold；　nearly　naked？
　Jason's　eyes　looked　bigger；　bluer　somehow；　without　all　the　hair　to　distract　your　eye。　His　face　looked　older　with　the　shorter　hair；　the　bone　structure　cleaner；　and　I　realized　that　Jason　was　perilously　close　to　that　line　between　cute　and　handsome。　He'd　been　nineteen　when　we　met。　Twenty…two　looked　better　on　him。　But　the　outfit　　there　was　nothing　to　do　but　grin　at　the　outfit。
　He　was　grinning　at　me；　too。　I　think　we　were　both　happy　to　see　each　other。　In　leaving　Richard　and　Jean…Claude　I'd　left　their　people　behind；　too。　Jason　was　Richard's　pack　member；　and　Jean…Claude's　lap　wolf。
　〃You　look　like　a　pornographic　space　man。　If　you　were　wearing　street　clothes；　you　might　have　gotten　a　hug；〃　I　said。
　His　smile　flashed　even　wider。　〃I　guess　I'm　dressed　for　punishment。　Jean…Claude　told　me　to　wait　for　you　and　take　you　in。　My　hand's　already　got　a　stamp　on　it　so　we　can　just　go　straight　inside。〃
　〃A　little　cold　for　the　clothes；　isn't　it？〃
　〃Why　do　you　think　I　was　standing　deep　in　the　crowd？〃　He　offered　me　his　arm。　〃May　I　escort　you　inside；　my　lady？〃
　I　took　his　arm　with　my　left　hand。　Jason　put　his　free　hand　on　top　of　mine；　doing　a　double　hold。　If　that　was　the　worst　teasing　he　did　tonight；　then　he'd　grown　up　some。　The　silver　cloth　was　rougher　than　it　looked；　scratchy　where　it　rubbed　against　my　arm。
　As　Jason　led　me　up　the　steps；　I　had　to　look　behind　him。　The　cloth　that　covered　his　groin　was　only　a　thin　thong　at　the　back；　leaving　nothing　but　a　fine　glitter　over　his　butt。　The　shirt　was　not　attached　to　the　pants；　so　as　he　moved　I　got　glimpses　of　his　stomach。　In　fact　the　shirt　was　loose　enough　through　the　shoulders　that　when　he　took　my　arm　the　shirt　pulled　to　one　side；　revealing　his　smooth；　pale　shoulder。
　The　music　hit　me　at　the　door　like　a　giant's　slap。　It　was　almost　a　wall　we　had　to　move　through。　I　hadn't　expected　Narcissus　in　Chains　to　be　a　dance　club。　But　except　for　the　patrons'　clothing　being　more　exotic　and　running　high　to　leather；　it　looked　like　a　lot　of　other　clubs。　The　place　was　large；　dimly　lit；　dark　in　the　corners；　with　too　many　people　pushed　into　too　small　a　space；　moving　their　bodies　frantically　to　music　that　was　way　too　loud。
　My　hand　tightened　just　a　touch　on　Jason's　arm；　because　truthfully　I　always　feel　a　little　overwhelmed　by　places　like　this。　At　least　for　the　first　few　minutes。　It's　like　I　need　a　depth　chamber　between　the　outside　world　and　the　inside　world；　a　moment　to　breath　deep　and　adjust。　But　these　clubs　are　not　designed　to　give　you　time。　They　just　bombard　you　with　sensory　overload　and　figure　you'll　survive。
　Speaking　of　sensory　overload；　Jean…Claude　was　standing　near　the　wall　just　to　one　side　of　the　dance　floor。　His　long　black　hair　fell　in　soft　curls　around　his　shoulders；　nearly　to　his　waist。　I　didn't　remember　his　hair　being　that　long。　He　had　his　head　turned　away　from　me；　watching　the　dancers；　so　I　couldn't　really　see　his　face；　but　it　gave　me　time　to　look　at　the　rest　of　him。　He　was　dressed　in　a　black　vinyl　shirt　that　looked　poured　on。　It　left　his　arms　bare；　and　I　realized　I'd　never　seen　him　in　anything　that　bared　his　arms　before。　His　skin　looked　unbelievably　white　against　the　shiny　black　vinyl；　almost　as　if　it　glowed　with　some　inner　light。　I　knew　it　didn't；　though　it　could。　Jean…Claude　would　never　be　so　déclassé　as　to　show　such　power　in　a　public　place。　His　pants　were　made　of　the　same　shiny　vinyl；　making　the　long　lines　of　his　body　look　like　they　had　been　dipped　into　liquid　patent　leather。　Vinyl　boots　came　up　just　over　his　knees；　gleaming　as　if　they'd　been　spit　polished。　Everything　about　him　gleamed；　the　dark　glow　of　his　clothes；　the　shining　whiteness　of　his　skin。　Then　abruptly　he　turned　as　if　he　felt　me　gazing　at　him。
　Staring　full　into　his　face；　even　from　across　a　room；　made　me　catch　my　breath。　He　was　beautiful。　That　heartrending　beauty　that　was　masculine　but　treaded　the　line　between　what　was　male　and　what　was　female。　Not　exactly　androgynous；　but　close　to　it。
　But　as　he　moved　towards　me；　the　movement　was　utterly　male；　graceful　as　if　he　heard　music　in　his　head　that　he　quietly　danced　to。　But　the　walk；　the　movement　of　his　shoulders　　women　did　not　move　like　that。
　Jason　patted　my　hand。
　I　jumped；　staring　at　him。
　He　put　his　mouth　close　enough　to　my　ear　to　whisper…shout　above　the　music；　〃Breathe；　Anita；　remember　to　breathe。〃
　I　blushed；　because　that　was　how　Jean…Claude　affected　me　　like　I　was　fourteen　and　was　having　the　crush　of　my　life。　Jason　tightened　his　grip　on　me；　as　if　he　thought　I　might　make　a　run　for　it。　Not　a　bad　idea。　I　looked　back；　and　saw　that　Jean…Claude　was　very　near。　The　first　time　I　saw　the　blue…green　roil　of　the　Caribbean；　I　cried；　because　it　was　so　beautiful。　Jean…Claude　made　me　feel　like　that；　like　I　should　weep　at　his　beauty。　It　was　like　being　offered　an　original　da　Vinci；　not　just　to　hang　on　your　wall　and　admire；　but　to　roll　around　on　top　of。　It　seemed　wrong。　Yet　I　stood　there；　clutching　Jason's　arm；　my　heart　hammering　so　hard　I　almost　couldn't　hear　the　music。　I　was　scared；　but　it　wasn't　knife…in…the…dark　scared；　it　was　rabbit…in…the…headlights　scared。　I　was　caught；　as　I　usually　was　with　Jean…Claude；　between　two　disparate　instincts。　Part　of　me　wanted　to　run　to　him；　to　close　the　distance　and　climb　his　body　and　pull　it　around　me。　The　other　part　wanted　to　run　screaming　into　the　night　and　pray　he　didn't　follow。
　He　stood　in　front　of　me；　but　made　no　move　to　touch　me；　to　close　that　last　small　space。　He　seemed　as　unwilling　to　touch　me　as　I　was　to　touch　him。　Was　he　afraid　of　me？　Or　did　he　sense　my　own　fear　and　fear　he　might　scare　me　off？　We　stood　there　simply　staring　at　each　other。　His　eyes　were　still　the　same　dark；　dark　blue；　with　a　wealth　of　black　lashes　lacing　them。
　Jason　kissed　my　cheek；　lightly；　like　you'd　kiss　your　sister。　It　still　made　me　jump。　〃I'm　feeling　like　a　third　wheel。　You　two　play　nice。〃　And　he　pulled　away　from　me；　leaving　Jean…Claude　and　me　staring　at　each　other。
　I　don't　know　what　we　would　have　said；　because　three　men　joined　us　before　we　could　decide。　The　shortest　of　the　three　was　only　about　five　feet　seven；　and　he　was　wearing　more　makeup　on　his　pale　triangular　face　than　I　was。　The　makeup　was　well　done；　but　he　wasn't　trying　to　look　like　a　woman。　His　black　hair　was　cut　very　short；　though　you　could　tell　that　it　would　be　curly　if　it　was　long。　He　was　wearing　a　black　lace　dress；　long…sleeved；　fitted　at　the　waist；　showing　a　slender　but　muscular　chest。　The　skirt　spilled　out　around　him；　almost　June　Cleaverish；　and　his　stockings　were　black；　with　a　very　delicate　spiderweb　pattern。　He　wore　open…toed　sandals　with　spike　heels；　and　both　his　toenails　and　his　fingernails　were　painted　black。　He　looked　。。。　lovely。　But　what　made　the　outfit　was　the　sense　of　power　in　him。　It　hung　around　him　like　an　expensive　perfume；　and　I　knew　he　was　an　alpha　something。
　Jean…Claude　spoke　first。　〃This　is　Narcissus；　owner　of　this　establishment。〃
　Narcissus　held　out　his　hand。　I　was　momentarily　confused　about　whether　I　was　supposed　to　shake　the　hand　or　kiss　it。　If　he'd　been　trying　to　pass　for　a　woman；　I'd　have　known　the　kiss　would　have　been　appropriate；　but　he　wasn't。　He　wasn't　so　much　cross…dressing　as　just　dressing　the　way　he　wanted。　I　shook　his　hand。　The　grip　was　strong；　but　not　too　strong。　He　didn't　try　and　test　my　strength；　which　some　lycanthropes　will　do。　He　was　secure；　was　Narcissus。
　The　two　men　behind　him　loomed　over　all　of　us；　each　well　over　six　feet。　One　had　a　wide；　muscular　chest　that　was　left　mostly　bare　through　a　plicated　crisscross　of　black　leather　straps。　He　had　blond　hair；　cut　very　short　on　the　sides　and　gelled　into　short　spikes　on　top。　His　eyes　were　pale；　and　the　look　in　them　was　not　friendly。　The　second　man　was　slimmer；　built　more　like　a　professional　basketball　player　than　a　weightlifter。　But　the　arms　that　showed　from　the　leather　vest　were　corded　with　muscle　all　the　same。　His　skin　was　almost　as　dark　as　the　leather　he　was　wearing。　All　these　two　needed　were　a　couple　of　tattoos　apiece；　and　they　would　have　screamed　badass。
　Narcissus　said；　〃This　is　Ulysses　and　Ajax。〃　Ajax　was　the　blond；　and　Ulysses　was　the　oh…so　brunette。
　〃Greek　myths；　nice　naming　convention；〃　I　said。
　Narcissus　blinked　large　dark　eyes　at　me。　Either　he　didn't　think　I　was　funny；　or　he　simply　didn't　care。　The　music　stopped　abruptly。　We　were　suddenly　standing　in　a　great　roaring　silence；　and　it　was　shocking。　Narcissus　spoke　at　a　level　where　I　could　hear　him；　but　people　nearby　couldn't。　He'd　known　the　music　would　stop。　〃I　know　your　reputation；　Ms。　Blake。　I　must　have　the　gun。〃
　I　glanced　at　Jean…Claude。
　〃I　did　not　tell　him。〃
　〃e；　Ms。　Blake；　I　can　smell　the　gun；　even　over　。。。　〃　He　sniffed　the　air；　head　tilted　back　just　a　little；　〃your　Oscar　de　la　Renta。〃
　〃I　went　to　a　different　oil　for　cleaning；　one　with　less　odor；〃　I　said。
　〃It's　not　the　oil。　The　gun　is　new；　I　can　smell　the　。。。　metal；　like　you　would　smell　a　new　car。〃
　Oh。　〃Did　Jean…Claude　explain　the　situation　to　you？〃
　Narcissus　nodded。　〃Yes；　but　we　do　not　play　favorites　in　dominance　struggles　between　different　groups。　We　are　neutral　territory；　and　if　we　are　to　remain　so；　then　no　guns。　If　it　is　any　fort；　we　didn't　let　the　ones　who　have　your　cats　bring　guns　into　the　club　either。〃
　I　widened　my　eyes　at　that。　〃Most　shapeshifters　don't　carry　guns。〃
　〃No；　they　do　not。〃　Narcissus's　handsome　face　told　me　nothing。　He　was　neither　upset　nor　concerned。　It　was　all　just　business　to　him　　like　Marco's　voice　on　the　phone。
　I　turned　back　to　Jean…Claude。　〃I'm　not　getting　into　the　club　with　my　gun；　am　I？〃
　〃I　fear　not；　ma　petite。〃
　I　sighed　and　turned　back　to　the　waiting　　what　had　Jean…Claude　called　them　　werehye