Page 85 of Vampire's Choice
“The incubus has to have room to be, too,” he said, rather than answering.
Marcellus lifted a shoulder. “As it should. That side of you will always be there, making those sensitive to those energies wary, but as they get to know you, they will realize how much control you have over it. Much as Mina has proven. You respect it, but refuse to let it dictate to you. It is a battle that has been won. You desire the full freedom to choose your path. That is what you wanted to say to me today. Correct?”
Because Merc had to be contrary when Marcellus was being a know-it-all, he scowled. “You know how to spoil the punch line of a joke.”
Marcellus didn’t smile. “You are not a joke, Merc.”
He sat back down, and Merc sat next to him. For a while they didn’t speak. Their wings were adjusted so they didn’t touch, but they were close enough Merc felt the heat and energy in Marcellus’s. Merc put his bare feet in the water and watched the fish jump over them.
“You had things to say to me, too.”
“It seems we covered them. There is no need to discuss the matter about Ruth. I have my concerns, but I will ponder it. Along with what we have discussed here. There is something else, though. Yes?”
It was more personal. Yet Marcellus’s encouragement made the desire to talk about it unsettlingly strong. Merc didn’t confide in others.
But he thought of the angel’s gentleness with Clara, his fierce protectiveness. Marcellus was more than an angel. He was a male who loved a female.
“I saw Ruth watching the acrobats.” In brief terms, Merc described the exchange between Nikolai, Karl and Sarita, particularly the way that the two men called an emotional response from Sarita as part of their Mastery. A vital enhancement for it.
“Ruth was as drawn into and aroused by that, as she was the physical part. My experience in controlling a woman, her pleasure, is with the sexual side."
When he’d imposed compulsion upon his prey, the physical had flooded the emotional, keeping it at a distance, where he didn’t have to deal with it. “I have no experience in that. I don’t know what it feels like.”
“Bullshit.” Marcellus arched a brow at Merc’s surprised look. “Yes, I do know how to curse. Selectively, for maximum impact. Asking about her emotional wellbeing suggests you do. It is just new terrain. You want to give her something, and not because it provides measurable benefit to you. How she feels, what she wants, matters."
Merc pressed his lips together. "Is that how you feel about Clara?"
Marcellus didn't talk about that with anyone, though those closest to him, like Jonah, his Commander, knew. But he could see Merc struggling with this, and Marcellus wouldn’t deny him the knowledge he needed. Particularly after stating he believed Merc was more angel than anything else. And an angel was a brother.
Even one still trying to figure out what being an angel meant to him.
“There is nothing I would not do to see her happy. And protect her. I am proud of her strength, her will, to help us identify threats against this world and others.”
“Even as you see it killing her,” Merc said bluntly. “Maddock has a solution. Why don’t you make her do it?"
Marcellus wanted more than anything to follow that path, and that impulse had overcome him several times. Fortunately, Jonah had talked him off that perilous ledge. Still, hearing Merc say it aloud, evidence of how new the younger male was to the relationship quagmire, had Marcellus biting back a grim smile. “You do not like it when choices are taken from you, when we control your path.”
“I do not.” Merc’s eyes flashed, but he added, “Though I acknowledge I have more justification for that reaction now, than when you first found me.”
Marcellus nodded. “Taking choice away from anyone, just because you have the power to do so, is as serious a decision, and as much a potential crime, as taking a life. It should always be considered carefully, particularly your motives. To take that choice from Clara, overriding her desire to help, would destroy her spirit. I would be taking away her right to be who she is.”
Marcellus met Merc’s gaze, the odd mix of dark red and black, those always intriguing hints of silver. “Protecting who she is might require the sacrifice of her physical wellbeing.”
“That’s a shit choice.”
“Yes. It is. I do not always succeed at it, and I make her angry when I fail.” His lips twitched. “So if I am going to incur her wrath, I make sure it is for good reason. If you care about Ruth, make sure whatever you demand of her is what you both wish. What brings you both pleasure.”
Marcellus met Merc’s gaze. “Clara and I have what is between us and have not given it names. However, with vampires, it manifests itself more as it does in the Circus world, so I’ll use those terms.
“A Master can be demanding, strict. He can impose pain and punishment. But he does so knowing that is what his submissive truly desires and needs from him. And he watches her carefully to be sure it doesn't cross a line where it no longer is good for her or what she needs.”
"So if a male is acting as he should, he is serving her, as much as she is serving him. Even if he is Master.”
Marcellus had given Merc as much stroking as he felt was wise for one day, but pride surged in him at the younger male’s intelligent conclusion. "Yes. Moreover, that is one of the definitions of love.”
Merc’s startled expression, bordering on terror, made throwing the comment out entirely worth it. Marcellus hid his grin, swiftly changing the subject.
“I would go to Machanon for a few minutes to speak to some friends. I want you to accompany me.”