Anita Blake 15 - The Harlequin by Laurell K. Hamilton Page A
Authors: Laurell K. Hamilton
Tags: Fantasy
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when the council is divided. They are divided about us, about me."
"What do they do, exactly?" Nathaniel asked.
"Disguise and subterfuge are their meat and drink. They are assassins, spies of the highest order. No one knows who they are. No one has ever seen their faces and lived. They come to us masked if they mean us no harm. Masked in the manner of Venice when the rich and powerful wore masks, caps, and hats, so all looked alike, and none could be distinguished from the other. If they appear before us in those costumes, then they are merely here to observe. If they appear in the masks of their namesakes, then it could go either way. They could be merely observing, or they could mean to kill us. They would wear their namesakes, both to hide their faces and to let us know that if we do not cooperate they could turn deadly."
"What do you mean, namesakes?" I asked.
"There is only one Harlequin at a time, but there are other Harlequin as a group name. Whatever names they had once, they have adopted the names and masks of the commedia dell'arte."
"I don't know the term," I said.
"It was a type of theatre that flourished before I was born, but it gave rise to many characters. The women were not originally masked on stage, but there are those among Harlequin's band that have taken female personas; whether they are actually women or only seek to confuse the matter is open for debate, but does not truly matter. As for namesakes, there are dozens, but some names have been known for centuries: Harlequin, of course; Punchinello; Scaramouche; Pierrot or Pierrette; Columbine; Hanswurst; Il Dottore. There could be dozens more, or a hundred. No one knows how many are in the Harlequin's raid. Most of the time they will only appear in nearly featureless masks of black and white. They will simply say, 'We are the Harlequin.' The best possible scenario is that we never learn who individually has come to our city."
"How serious a breach of vampy etiquette is it that we get a white mask but they're acting like it's red?" I asked.
Jean-Claude and Requiem exchanged a look that I couldn't read exactly, but it wasn't good.
"Talk to me, damn it," I said.
"It should not be happening,
ma petite
. Either this is an attack by some other vampire powerful enough to fool us all, or the Harlequin are breaking their own rules. They are deadly within their rules; if the rule of law were to break down…" He closed his eyes and hugged me, hugged me tight.
Nathaniel came to stand beside us, his face uncertain. "What can we do about it?"
Jean-Claude looked at him, and smiled. "Very practical,
mon minet
, as practical as our Micah." He turned to look at Requiem, whose smile had vanished. "Is this how it began in London?"
"Yes, one of the Harlequin could increase our emotions of desire. But only emotions we already owned. It was very subtle at first, then worsened. Truthfully, what has happened tonight to Anita went unnoticed among us. It simply seemed to be couples finally deciding to consummate their friendships."
"How did it worsen?" Nathaniel asked.
"I don't know if it was the same vampire, but they began to interfere when we used the powers of Belle's line. Making the lust go terribly wrong."
"How terribly?" I asked.
"The
ardeur
at its worst," he said.
"Shit," I said.
Nathaniel touched my shoulders and Jean-Claude opened his arms to pull the other man into our embrace, so that he hugged us both, and I was firmly in the middle of them. It was as if I could finally catch my breath. "Better and better," I said.
"The more you touch your power base, the more surety you have against them, at first," Requiem said.
"What do you mean, 'at first'?" I asked.
"Eventually, our master was tormented by them no matter who he touched. Whatever he touched turned ill, and whatever touched his skin was poisoned."
"Poisoned with what?" I asked.
"They turned our own powers against us, Anita. We were a kiss made up almost entirely of Belle Morte's line. They
"What do they do, exactly?" Nathaniel asked.
"Disguise and subterfuge are their meat and drink. They are assassins, spies of the highest order. No one knows who they are. No one has ever seen their faces and lived. They come to us masked if they mean us no harm. Masked in the manner of Venice when the rich and powerful wore masks, caps, and hats, so all looked alike, and none could be distinguished from the other. If they appear before us in those costumes, then they are merely here to observe. If they appear in the masks of their namesakes, then it could go either way. They could be merely observing, or they could mean to kill us. They would wear their namesakes, both to hide their faces and to let us know that if we do not cooperate they could turn deadly."
"What do you mean, namesakes?" I asked.
"There is only one Harlequin at a time, but there are other Harlequin as a group name. Whatever names they had once, they have adopted the names and masks of the commedia dell'arte."
"I don't know the term," I said.
"It was a type of theatre that flourished before I was born, but it gave rise to many characters. The women were not originally masked on stage, but there are those among Harlequin's band that have taken female personas; whether they are actually women or only seek to confuse the matter is open for debate, but does not truly matter. As for namesakes, there are dozens, but some names have been known for centuries: Harlequin, of course; Punchinello; Scaramouche; Pierrot or Pierrette; Columbine; Hanswurst; Il Dottore. There could be dozens more, or a hundred. No one knows how many are in the Harlequin's raid. Most of the time they will only appear in nearly featureless masks of black and white. They will simply say, 'We are the Harlequin.' The best possible scenario is that we never learn who individually has come to our city."
"How serious a breach of vampy etiquette is it that we get a white mask but they're acting like it's red?" I asked.
Jean-Claude and Requiem exchanged a look that I couldn't read exactly, but it wasn't good.
"Talk to me, damn it," I said.
"It should not be happening,
ma petite
. Either this is an attack by some other vampire powerful enough to fool us all, or the Harlequin are breaking their own rules. They are deadly within their rules; if the rule of law were to break down…" He closed his eyes and hugged me, hugged me tight.
Nathaniel came to stand beside us, his face uncertain. "What can we do about it?"
Jean-Claude looked at him, and smiled. "Very practical,
mon minet
, as practical as our Micah." He turned to look at Requiem, whose smile had vanished. "Is this how it began in London?"
"Yes, one of the Harlequin could increase our emotions of desire. But only emotions we already owned. It was very subtle at first, then worsened. Truthfully, what has happened tonight to Anita went unnoticed among us. It simply seemed to be couples finally deciding to consummate their friendships."
"How did it worsen?" Nathaniel asked.
"I don't know if it was the same vampire, but they began to interfere when we used the powers of Belle's line. Making the lust go terribly wrong."
"How terribly?" I asked.
"The
ardeur
at its worst," he said.
"Shit," I said.
Nathaniel touched my shoulders and Jean-Claude opened his arms to pull the other man into our embrace, so that he hugged us both, and I was firmly in the middle of them. It was as if I could finally catch my breath. "Better and better," I said.
"The more you touch your power base, the more surety you have against them, at first," Requiem said.
"What do you mean, 'at first'?" I asked.
"Eventually, our master was tormented by them no matter who he touched. Whatever he touched turned ill, and whatever touched his skin was poisoned."
"Poisoned with what?" I asked.
"They turned our own powers against us, Anita. We were a kiss made up almost entirely of Belle Morte's line. They
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