Innara said, "We hope she lives long enough to fulfill her contract." She dropped our hands and slithered down the hallway and out of sight. Leaving us alone.
Suddenly reticent, I adjusted my dress, watching Bruiser from the corner of my eye. He leaned against the brick, still clearly happy to see me, amusement playing across his features, the expression saying that he knew what I was looking at. His hair had fallen forward and a quick glance showed me red lipstick on his mouth. I wondered if he'd smeared it on Innara's hand. "Wipe your mouth?" I suggested.
One handed, he pulled a hanky and wiped his lips, passing it to me. "Yours too."
"Oh." I took the handkerchief. It was the same one with Leo's blood on it, but it was a little late to worry about scent-marking. I dabbed my mouth on a clean corner and held out the soiled cloth. Bruiser took my hand instead of the handkerchief. Slowly, he pulled me to him. I felt stupid jerking away or holding back, seeing a mental image of me stretched across the hallway, balanced on one foot. I smiled at it and when my chest once again touched his, he wrapped a steely arm around me and said, "We are going to do this. Soon."
I gulped. Beast purred. And Bruiser leaned in. Paused with his lips only a fraction of an inch from mine. "We are." His smile was teasing, a flash of very white teeth. He whispered, "Say it. We are."
"Oh. Um. Well. I may be dead tomorrow, you know?" When his arm loosened in surprise, I ducked away with a little dance step and said, "What's an anamchara?"
Bruiser held his position a moment longer. When he stood straight, the amused smile was still in place, reminding me a bit of Beast when she played with her dinner. While it was still alive. I thought for a moment that Bruiser would push the issue, but he didn't. Instead, he took my arm and curled it through his, leading me down the hallway toward the party.
"Anamchara has had many meanings throughout history, but for Mithrans, anamchara are soul bonded. Or mind bonded, if you prefer. It's a state sometimes entered into by vampires, an everlasting joining, an eternal mating. They share thoughts, emotions, everything in their lives, from moment to moment. It is a difficult arrangement, and one not sought by most, even after long years together." He tilted his eyes at me, his amusement growing, his words dropping lower, provocative. "They share . . . everything. The relationship is said to be best experienced by them in sexual and feeding encounters. At the same time if possible."
I couldn't help looking down at the proof of his interest in me, and blushed furiously. Well, hell. Bruiser laughed again, a low sound that had Beast rolling over, her pelt rubbing against my skin. But we stepped into the open area and it took his attention as it did mine, our security training automatic. We had worked our way back to the front of the warehouse, the area with pillows and rugs. There were groups of vamps and groups of humans, but separate groups, with almost no intermixing. Soft music played from hidden speakers.
"It does have drawbacks, of course," he said, and I brought my attention back to the subject. "There can be no lies between anamchara. And it is said that if one dies, the other goes insane."
"That would suck," I said, succinctly.
Laughter spluttered from him, untouched by the sexual teasing, and I took the moment to ask, "What is Dolore? I thought it was a name, but it isn't."
He stilled. Softly he said, "It is the state that Mithrans enter when they grieve. It can make them go rogue if their blood-family and their intimate, human blood-servants are not most careful with them."
I put a hand on his arm, urging him to quiet for a moment. I tensed, smelling the maker of the young rogues. This was why I had come. My lips parted slightly and I slowly drew a breath over my tongue and through my nose, tasting and scenting all at once. I closed my eyes to concentrate. The scent marker was faint, buried beneath the aromas of cooked meat, old warehouse, and vamps galore. But it was here. He had been here.
Most of the time Beast could help me tell by scent the carriers' gender, race, mating readiness, general health, age, what they had to eat recently, others who had been in close contact--a whole host of things. But I wasn't getting much from the traces of the rogue maker I'd found. I had yet to be in Beast's form when I scent-checked him--it. I still wasn't certain of the gender. I needed to shift and prowl. I grinned and dropped Bruiser's arm. Bet that would go over well, a mountain lion come a-calling. "Go call Leo. Tell him that the maker of the young rogues has been here. I smell it. The perfume it wore," I corrected. "It's faint but it's been here. I need to mingle."