Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter collection 11-15

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  “I didn’t like the way you said that if you turn into a weretiger, it’s good because you did it saving me. I don’t want you to think about me in this equation. I want you be a selfish son of a bitch, Peter. I want you to think about yourself and yourself alone. What do you want to do? What feels right to you?”

  “Honest?” he said.

  “Yeah, honest,” I said.

  “I think I’ve made up my mind, then I go back and change it. I think if I decided, and they had the shot here and ready, I’d just take it, but they won’t bring it until I say so.” He closed his eyes. “Part of me wants to call my mom and let her decide for me. Part of me wants someone to blame if it goes wrong, but a man doesn’t do that. A man makes his own decisions.”

  “In this situation, yes. But don’t imprint that whole lone gunman mentality too deep on your psyche.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  I smiled. “I know from experience that it’s hard to be part of a couple when you’re so damned independent. I’ve had to learn how to share my decisions. Balance is what you’re looking for.”

  “I don’t know how to balance anything anymore,” and his eyes were shiny.

  “Peter, I…”

  “Go, okay?” he said, in a voice that was too thick. “Just go, please.”

  I almost reached out and touched his shoulder. I wanted to comfort him. Hell, I wanted to go back in time and put his ass back on a plane home as soon as he showed up in St. Louis. I wished I had humiliated him and sent him packing. Wasn’t a bruised ego better than this?

  Hands came and touched me, drew me back from the bed. Micah and Nathaniel drew me away so Peter could cry without me watching. My throat was so tight it hurt to breathe. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  They got me outside in the hallway before the first tear slid hot and almost painful down my own face. “Damn it,” I said.

  Micah tried to hug me, but I pushed him away. “I’ll cry if you hug me.”

  “Anita, just let it out.”

  I shook my head. “No, don’t you understand. We have to kill her first. I’ll cry when Mercia’s dead.”

  “You blame her for Peter being hurt,” he said.

  “No, I blame me, and Edward, but I can’t kill us, so I’ll kill who I can.”

  “If you’re going to talk about killing people, Anita, you might not want to do it in front of a policeman.” Zerbrowski walked down the hallway with his usual smile. He looked as he always did, like he’d slept in his suit, though I knew he hadn’t. His dark curly hair had more gray in it, but it was still the careless curls. Katie, his wife, hadn’t made him cut it recently. He was cheerfully messy, and Katie was one of the neatest people I’d ever met. Opposites attract.

  I had a horrible urge to hug him. He just looked so nicely normal coming down the hallway. Which made me turn to Micah and Nathaniel. If I was thinking about falling into Zerbrowski’s arms, I was badly in need of a hug. All three of them had seen me cry before, including Zerbrowski.

  I threw an arm around Micah, then held the other one out to Nathaniel. I let them hold me, but I didn’t cry. My face felt hot, but no more tears came. I clung to them, let them hold me. I had this horrible urge to simply collapse, to just fall apart in their arms, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let myself do it.

  “I’ll give you some privacy,” Zerbrowski said.

  I shook my head and drew back from the men. “No, we have to catch this bitch.”

  “No one’s seen her, Anita. Her or the man who we assume is her human servant.”

  “He has to be her human servant to share her mind powers, Zerbrowski.” I tried to move farther away, but Nathaniel’s arm slipped around my shoulders, drawing me back. I patted his arm and said, “I’m okay now.”

  He whispered, “Liar, but maybe it’s me who needs to touch you.” He squeezed me tight, his other arm sliding around my waist. “You’ve got to stop almost dying, Anita; it’s hard on the heart.”

  Somehow I didn’t think he meant hard as in a heart attack. There were so many more ways for a heart to break. I let him press me back against his body. I stroked my hands down his arms.

  Zerbrowski shook his head, smiled. “You know, Katie feels the same way after I get hurt, but she’s too cool to do it in public.”

  I looked at him, and it wasn’t an entirely friendly look.

  He held up his hands. “It wasn’t a criticism, Anita, Nathaniel. It’s just, well, hell, I mean it’s interesting watching people be as open as you guys are. Is it a shapeshifter culture thing?”

  I thought about it. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

  “If we don’t have to play human,” Micah said, “we’re very touchy-feely, and we tend to wear our emotions out.”

  Zerbrowski grinned. “Damn, that must have been an adjustment for you, Anita.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you’re like most cops I know—you stuff your emotions. Does this mean if the boyfriends aren’t around at a crime scene some night, I can look forward to you hanging all over me?”

  “You wish,” I said, and smiled at him. I patted Nathaniel’s arm and took a step forward. He let me draw a little farther away from him, but kept my hand. I understood the need to touch and be touched. It wasn’t just the normal lycanthropy stuff. I wanted to hug Peter as if he were a little boy, and tell him it would all be all right, but it was a lie. Even if he’d been a little boy, it would still have been a lie. I couldn’t promise him anything.

  “That’s an awful serious face for a woman who just got a hug from her sweetie.”

  “I’m thinking about Peter.”

  “Yeah, you got cut up trying to save him.”

  I fought to keep my face neutral. If we were going to change the story for the police, then Edward should have told me. That he didn’t tell me the “official” version, and I hadn’t asked, said just how distracted the two of us were. Not good.

  “You saved his life, Anita. That’s the best you could do,” Zerbrowski said.

  I nodded, and went for a hug from Micah, partially to hide my face, because I still couldn’t quite figure out how to look. My guilt was because Peter had gotten cut up saving me. He wouldn’t even get credit for it from the cops. That seemed like insult to injury.

  Micah kissed the side of my face and whispered, “Edward didn’t tell you the official version?”

  “No,” I whispered back.

  Micah spoke with me still in his arms. “I think Anita also blames herself because she was already hunting the vampires. She thinks they might not have reacted so violently if they hadn’t known she was on their trail.”

  I turned, still half in Micah’s arms. “When a person knows that they’re being tracked by someone who can kill them on sight, Zerbrowski, what options does that leave them?”

  “Are you saying you disagree with the execution order?” he asked.

  “No, not in this case, but there are nights when I wish I had an option that was less than lethal force. I’d love someone to do a study and see if the vampires get more violent in trying to stay alive than in the crimes they were originally condemned for.”

  “Have you had that happen?” Zerbrowski asked.

  “No, no, I guess I haven’t. Most of them would have kept killing if we hadn’t stopped them. But, still, the vamp we’re hunting framed a vampire from the Church of Eternal Life. She helped frame two of them. If I had just followed the trail they mapped out for us, I’d have killed two innocent people.”

  “Isn’t this the second time you’ve had the bad vampires frame the good vampires and try to use you as a murder weapon?”

  “Yes,” I said, “it is, and if it’s happening to me, then it may be happening to other vampire executioners. But they may not be looking beyond the obvious.”

  “You mean because they aren’t up close and personal with the vampires, they just accept that a good vampire is a dead vampire.”

  “Yeah.”

  Zerbrowski frowned at me. “
Dolph isn’t the only one who thinks you living with the…”—he made a vague gesture at Nathaniel and Micah—“compromises your ability to do your job. But I don’t think it does; I think it makes you look at the vampires and shapeshifters the way the law says we’re supposed to now. They’re supposed to be legal citizens, people, and you see them that way. It’s what makes it harder and harder for you to kill them, but it makes you a better cop. You look for the truth, catch the real bad guy, punish the guilty. The other executioners kill who they’re told to kill. It makes them good killers, but I’m not sure what good cops they are.”

  It was a long speech for Zerbrowski. “You’ve put some thought into this.”

  He actually looked embarrassed. “I guess I have. I spend a lot of time defending your honor with the other cops.”

  “I can defend my own honor,” I said.

  He grinned again. “No, you can’t. You can’t explain that you see the monsters as people without implying that the bigoted bastard that just said the stupid thing doesn’t see them as people. I can get away with it. I’m Zerbrowski, I can say a lot of shit and not make people mad. I go for the funny bone, you go for the jugular. It makes people pissy.”

  “He really does know you well,” Micah said.

  I drew away enough to look back at him. “What the hell does that mean?”

  He grinned at me. I found Nathaniel fighting not to grin. They were all grinning at me. “What?”

  My cell phone rang, and then I realized I didn’t have it on me. It rang again, and it was the ring tone that Nathaniel had picked for my phone when I said I didn’t care. It was “Wild Boys” by Duran Duran. I’d remember to care next time he asked. Micah fished the phone out of his pocket and handed it to me.

  I didn’t have time to ask when he’d picked up my phone. I just answered it. “Hello.”

  A male voice said, “I do not have much time.” The voice was familiar, but it was a strange monotone that made it sound like someone I should recognize and a stranger all at the same time. “The Harlequin are at my church.”

  I started walking down the hallway away from everyone else. It was Zerbrowski I didn’t want to overhear, not until I knew that I wanted the police to know. “Malcolm, is this you?”

  The voice continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “Columbine says she will blood-oath my congregation or she will battle me with vampire powers, for it is not illegal for a vampire to use vampire wiles on another vampire. She claims to have done nothing illegal in our country. She blames all crime on her dead partner. I cannot win against her, Anita, but I can give my congregation to Jean-Claude. Blood-oath them any way you like, but save them from the madness I sense in these two, Columbine and Giovanni. Give me permission to tell them they must duel Jean-Claude for these vampires, and not me.”

  “Malcolm, is this you?”

  The voice changed, holding fear. “What’s happening? Who is this?”

  “Avery, Avery Seabrook?” I made it a question, though I was almost a hundred percent certain it was him. I could see his gentle brown eyes, the short hair, that young, unfinished face. He was in his twenties, but tasted too innocent for comfort.

  “Anita, is that you?”

  “It’s me. What happened? What’s happening right now?”

  “Malcolm touched me and I don’t remember what happened next. I just sort of woke up on my cell phone in the back of the church.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “There are masked vampires here. I don’t know them. Malcolm seems afraid of them.”

  “You’re blood-oathed to Jean-Claude, they can’t hold you.”

  “What is going on, Anita?”

  What was I supposed to say, You’re such a weak vamp that Malcolm mind-fucked you like you were a human? He sounded scared enough without me making him feel weaker. “Malcolm sent me a message.”

  “What?” Then there was noise on the other end. I heard Avery’s voice, a little distant, as if he’d taken the phone from his mouth to talk to someone there.

  “Avery?”

  The voice that came on wasn’t Avery, or Malcolm. “Who is speaking, please?” It was male, and I didn’t know the voice.

  “I don’t answer your questions, you answer mine.”

  “Are you police?” he asked.

  “Yes.” It was the truth.

  “We are breaking none of your laws.”

  “You’re trying to take over the Church of Eternal Life here in my town. I’d say that’s illegal.”

  “We have offered no violence to anyone. This will be a contest of wills and magical power. It is not illegal to use vampire powers on other vampires in your country. We will not use our powers on the humans here. I give you my word.”

  “How about the vampires? They’re legal citizens of this country, too.”

  “We will offer them no weapon, no hand of violence. Your laws protect only humans from vampire powers. In fact, the law could be interpreted to exclude all supernatural citizens from the protection the law gives against vampire manipulation.”

  “Lycanthropes are still considered human under the letter of the law.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I say so. Give me your name,” I said.

  “I am known as Giovanni. I would like to know who I am speaking with.”

  Frankly, I wasn’t sure that he’d treat me like a cop, or like Jean-Claude’s human servant. I wasn’t even sure which role would work best here. “I’m Federal Marshal Anita Blake.”

  “Ah, the Master of the City’s human servant.”

  “Yeah, that, too.”

  “We have done nothing, my mistress and I, to anger you in either of your roles.”

  That was a little too close for comfort to what I’d just been thinking. Had he read my mind, and me not know it? Shit.

  “If Columbine is your mistress, then yeah, she did piss me off.”

  “We read your laws, Marshal. Columbine used her powers on you, your master, and his wolf. She did not use her powers on humans.”

  “She and her friend Nivia framed two legal citizen vampires for murder, and two humans died to do that.”

  “Nivia did that on her own. My mistress was most upset when she found that Nivia had done these horrible things.” He didn’t even try to keep his voice from sounding fake.

  He knew I couldn’t prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that it hadn’t been just Nivia, who was conveniently dead. It was her weretiger that had tried to kill Peter, a human. Again, conveniently dead.

  “Son of a bitch,” I said, softly.

  “Excuse me, Marshal.”

  “I have a warrant of execution and it works just fine for you and your mistress.”

  “But if you use it knowing that we did not do these crimes, then you are a murderer. Perhaps you will never be tried as such, but you will know that you have abused your powers and simply killed to protect your master like a good human servant, but not a very good federal marshal.”

  “You’ve done your homework,” I said.

  Micah was beside me now. I held up a hand so he wouldn’t try to talk to me. I glanced back and found Nathaniel still talking to Zerbrowski. Whatever he was saying had the sergeant’s full attention.

  “We know you are honorable, and your master is honorable. We will not harm Malcolm or his people. We will simply challenge him for them, and use only legal means to win the challenge.”

  “Avery Seabrook is already blood-oathed to Jean-Claude. He’s off limits.”

  “Very well, but the others are no one’s flock.”

  “Malcolm gave them to Jean-Claude. We haven’t blood-oathed them yet, but they are ours.”

  “Lies do not become you, Marshal Blake.”

  “Can you taste a lie in my voice?”

  “I have that ability.”

  “Fine, then listen carefully, Giovanni. Malcolm gave his entire congregation to Jean-Claude and me. They belong to the Master of the City of St. Louis now. You can defeat Malcolm with your vampire wiles, but it won’t win you shit. B
y vampire law you have to defeat the master that owns them before you can oath them to you.”

  He was quiet for a second. I heard him breathing, which isn’t a vampire thing. He was human, somehow; he was her human servant. He had more powers than most human servants, but then so did I.

  “I hear truth in your words. But I heard truth in Malcolm’s speech to my mistress only moments ago. She forced him to tell truthfully if Jean-Claude had a claim to his congregation. He said Jean-Claude did not.”

  “You underestimated Malcolm’s powers, Giovanni. He got a message to us, and you have a church full of legal American citizens with rights. You have a church full of vampires who belong to the Master of the City of St. Louis, and they have rights under vampire law, too. You’ve been very careful that my status as a police officer isn’t invoked here. I’ll hold you to vampire law just as tight as human law. You break either of them, and I will rain all over your parade.”

  “But as the laws constrain us, they also constrain you, Anita Blake.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you and the horse you rode in on.”

  “I don’t understand. We have no horses.”

  “Sorry, it’s slang. I mean that I understand what you said, and I’m not impressed.”

  “Malcolm used your young vampire here to somehow give you this message, didn’t he?”

  “I don’t have to give you information, not by either set of laws.”

  “True,” he said, “but if my mistress blood-oaths enough of these vampires, then she will have enough power to defeat Jean-Claude.”

  “You’re Harlequin. You can’t kill anyone without giving them a black mask first.”

  “We are not attacking as Harlequin. My mistress has grown weary of being a tool for the council. She wishes to have her own lands in this new country of yours. Jean-Claude was harder to destroy with vampire powers than she anticipated.”

  “You’re supposed to give a formal challenge before you start battling to take over.”

  “Did Jean-Claude give a formal challenge to Nikolaos, the old Master of the City, before you slew her for him?”

  I took a breath, then didn’t try to say anything. Truthfully, I hadn’t realized that killing Nikolaos would make him master. I’d just been trying to stay alive and keep her from killing other people. But it had opened the way for Jean-Claude to own the city. Saying it had been an accident would make us sound weak. So I shut my mouth and tried to think.