Sucker Punch

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  “Thank you, Marshal,” Bobby said.

  “Marshal Jeffries,” Olaf said.

  “Marshal Jeffries, thank you for helping me remember.”

  “You are welcome.”

  “Now that we don’t need an ambulance,” Duke said, “what next, Marshals?” Again, I got that glimpse of the good lawman I would have seen if things had been different.

  “I’ve done everything I can until someone calls me back,” Newman said.

  “If we have all the pictures and samples we need from Bobby, I think he needs clothes and maybe a chance to clean up,” I said.

  Livingston said, “Kaitlin, have you collected everything we need?”

  “Yeah. He can clean up,” she said.

  Duke shook his head, pushing back through the doorway so the rest of us had to adjust farther down the hallway to give him room. “Clothes we can do, but if you mean a shower, I can’t sign off on that. It’s too big a security risk.”

  “Not your call,” I said.

  “It’s my jail,” he said.

  “If my vote counts, it would be awesome to wash all this blood off me, though I’m not sure about my face. That may hurt in the shower.”

  “Don’t put your face directly in the water,” I said, “because that will hurt.”

  Bobby touched his nose gingerly. “Did you really have to break it?”

  “I could have just killed you.”

  “You don’t have a mark on you, so it couldn’t have been that bad,” he said.

  I pulled my pants leg out enough that I could put a finger through some of the holes his claws had made.

  “Jesus, did I cut you?”

  “A nick here and there, nothing major.”

  Bobby closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay, I remember now.”

  Something unhappy passed across his face, and since his eyes were still closed, it was like watching someone have a bad dream. You always had to debate whether you should wake them and end the nightmare. Of course, when Bobby opened his eyes, the nightmare was real.

  “I’ve trained for years to remember what I do in animal form, but it’s always harder when it’s a memory that makes you look bad or frightening,” he said.

  “I thought the amnesia was something that shapeshifters couldn’t help,” Newman said.

  “At first, but later it’s like any traumatic memory or a memory that makes you feel bad about yourself. People edit it to make themselves look better or block it if it’s too painful. Shapeshifters aren’t any different.”

  “You have a disease. It doesn’t make you into a different person,” Kaitlin said.

  It was weird that I could hear her, but the others had moved, so I couldn’t see her. I wondered if that was how I was in a crowd, just a voice. Since I was about three inches shorter than she was, probably. Of course, everyone else in the hallway was tall enough to see her, so maybe it was just she and I who couldn’t see each other.

  Bobby looked toward her voice, but I think from the cell he couldn’t see her either. “Yes, it does, because you’re not all human anymore.”

  Kaitlin pushed her way in between the men so she could see him. “Of course you are. Don’t let anyone tell you that just because you have lycanthropy—Therianthropy—that you’re not human. That’s just prejudice.”

  Bobby shook his head, then winced and stopped the movement. I think more than just his nose hurt. At least he was alive, and he’d heal if we didn’t have to kill him first. The more we did to take care of him, the harder it was going to be if we did have to pull the trigger.

  “It’s not just prejudice,” Bobby said. “I carry a leopard inside me, and that’s not metaphorical. That’s just true. I become that leopard once a month or more, and while I’m in that form, I am that cat, just like I’m me now. I’m not a human being in a costume. I become something else that isn’t human.” He was so reasonable, with the blood, both old and new, spread across his face and into his hair. He looked like an accident victim trying to calm down a doctor.

  “But you’re still yourself,” Kaitlin said.

  Bobby looked at me. “Can I have a shower and you explain it to her?”

  I almost smiled but wasn’t sure if Kaitlin would take it wrong. She was trying so hard to be liberal and progressive; she meant well. “Therianthropy isn’t like other diseases. It’s not a virus that makes you sick once a month. It’s literally another being inside you.”

  “They change into their beast form once a month, but in between they’re still human,” Kaitlin said.

  “Yes, and no,” I said.

  Olaf said, “The beast is not separate and gone in between full moons. It is always inside waiting, watching, seeking a way out.”

  “Do you have pets?” I asked.

  “A cat,” Kaitlin said.

  “Okay. Does your cat ever try to dart through a door and get out?”

  She nodded. “Sometimes.”

  “And what do you do to stop it?”

  “I grab her. I push her away from the door.”

  “Now, think about the cat being inside you. You’re the house that it’s trying to escape from. If it gets out the door, you turn into the cat, and the cat becomes the house now, and it wants to keep you inside so it can be free.”

  “That’s a good analogy,” Bobby said.

  “I can’t take credit for it. It’s Micah’s. He has to explain this a lot.”

  “Micah Callahan, right? The head of the Coalition,” Kaitlin said.

  I nodded.

  “The analogy stops too soon,” Olaf said. “If you have the force of will to truly control your beast, then you keep your human mind in both forms.”

  “So you’re the cat and the house and you all at once,” Kaitlin said.

  “Yeah, it’s like a supernatural version of Schrödinger’s cat,” I said.

  “Sort of,” Bobby said, “but if you force your human mind on your beast all the time, then you can’t be a good cat. You can’t hunt and jump and be a leopard if you keep trying to think human.”

  “You must find a balance between beast and man,” Olaf said.

  “Yes. Now can I have a shower, please?”

  Duke said no and the debate or negotiations or argument began. We ended with Bobby getting to shower. Livingston suggested that Duke could go home and have breakfast with his family, and that seemed to be a deciding factor. Duke called one of his deputies who was still at the crime scene to bring clothes for Bobby, and then refused to leave until after they arrived.

  “This is my place. That means one of my people needs to be here.” Duke was being so reasonable that none of us argued with him.

  Newman escorted Bobby into the shower and took off the cuffs, but Olaf stayed in the room with him. I’d already beaten Bobby senseless with my bare hands. If I could do it, Olaf wouldn’t have a problem handling the prisoner. Duke insisted that the door to the bathroom stay open the whole time in case Olaf yelled for help. I think everyone but Duke was aware that Olaf wouldn’t need help, but it was Duke’s jail and Newman had to live here after I flew back home. It didn’t hurt us to concede enough to keep everyone happyish.

  In all the moving around, I found a quiet moment to give Newman the name of the lawyer Micah had recommended for helping Bobby. “It’s your warrant, so I can’t invite Micah and the Coalition into this, but you can.”

  “Duke is going to be pissed enough if I give Bobby a phone call to a lawyer. If I invite the Coalition in, he’ll never forgive me.”

  “Do you care?” I asked.

  He nodded. “I want to live here with Haley for the rest of my life, so yeah, I care.”

  “Do you care about that more than Bobby’s life?”

  “That’s not fair, Blake.”

  “It’s not, but I’m stating that I need help if Bobby goes ap
eshit again.”

  “You’ve got backup with Jeffries.”

  “If we want to kill Bobby, sure. I want help keeping him in human form, keeping him calm. Otto doesn’t know how to do that.”

  “And your fiancé does?”

  “Micah does, yes.”

  “If it was almost anyone else, I’d think they were trying to find a reason to get their lover into town.”

  “I actually don’t want any of my lovers near this case.”

  In my head, I thought, I don’t want them near Olaf without Edward here. I sure as hell didn’t want Micah near him. I loved him to pieces, but he was my height, within, like, a couple of inches or less. He was in good shape and trained to fight, but so was Olaf. If skills are equal, the bigger person will win a fight unless the smaller person gets lucky. Olaf wasn’t the kind of fighter who would leave room for luck. I realized I really didn’t want Micah here with Olaf.

  “That case in Washington State where I met you for the first time makes this one look safe, Blake. You invited some of your people in for that one—maybe not Micah Callahan, but still people you cared about. So what makes this one scarier? What aren’t you telling me?”

  I couldn’t tell him the whole truth about Olaf, so I was left not knowing what to say. I could have lied. I was even pretty good at it now, but I wasn’t good at complicated lies, and even the truth about Olaf was complicated.

  I finally settled for a half-truth. “I know how to kill the monsters, but keeping them alive is harder, Newman. More things can go wrong.”

  He shook his head. “No, Blake, killing them is harder. If I can help save Bobby, then maybe it will wash away some of the blood on my hands.”

  “Newman, you knew what this job was before you took it.”

  “I knew the facts, but nothing prepares you for killing people, Anita, for just killing them.”

  “We save future victims by killing the predators,” I said.

  “That’s a great thought. I even believed it once.”

  “It’s the truth, Newman.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t get to see the future victims we save. All I get to see is the people I kill now.”

  “When a shapeshifter tries to kill you like they did in Washington State, do you think of them as people?” I asked.

  “No, that’s survival, just like hunting vampires after dark. If they turn into monsters, it’s easier to pull the trigger, but when they’re like Bobby, it feels like murder.”

  “You’re too close to Bobby to be on this warrant, Newman.”

  “I know, but since so many of the newer marshals have refused warrants or quit, you need a good reason to pass on a warrant.”

  “Being friends with the name on the warrant is a valid reason to pass on it,” I said.

  “And if I had passed, then it turns out that Jeffries was next closest. Do you really think he would have waited to figure out that Bobby had been framed?”

  I answered truthfully, “No, he’d have just executed him.”

  “I took the warrant because I thought it was the right thing to do. I figured if Bobby was guilty, I could make sure his death was as quick and painless as possible. If there’d been a mistake and he was innocent, I figured that if I was the marshal in charge, I could help him.”

  “It was good thinking as far as it went,” I said.

  “I forgot the third option, didn’t I?” he said, face so sad.

  “Yeah,” I said, “you did.”

  “That he could be innocent, and I’d still have to execute him.”

  “Yeah, that would be what you forgot.”

  “What am I going to do, Blake?”

  I started to say he should sign the warrant over to me, but I didn’t want to kill Bobby either now. He was too real to me. I’d put my body in harm’s way to protect him. I’d risked my life for him. Executing him now would seem wrong, like a violation of the natural order of things. There are three types of people in this world: those you protect, those who fight with you, and those who fight against you. You killed to save those under your protection and to defend your own life and the lives of the people who fought beside you. It was simple math until the monsters became your friends and the people who were fighting beside you still wanted to kill them. Then it all went to hell.

  29

  I FOUND ANOTHER quiet moment, but this time I needed more privacy than anything the local police station could offer, because the person I most wanted to avoid eavesdropping had super-duper hearing. I could have asked Newman for the use of his car again, but the woods were right there, and I was feeling strangely claustrophobic. I needed a breath of fresh air, literally. I took the time to put on the tac vest. It was technically a plate carrier, but since I was police and not military, I’d probably never put a plate in it, so I just called it a tac vest. I didn’t like the feel of the vest, and I’d spent some time in the gym trying to fight in it, because it restricted my movement, but it would stop most bullets and the MOLLE straps all over it were awesome for carrying extra gear. I had the 9mm on the chest holster, which was great for drawing if I was sitting in a car, but it was my secondary handgun once the full battle rattle went on. The .45 in its drop thigh holster was the main handgun now, sitting snug to my leg and out of the way of the tightness of the vest. My AR-15 hung on a tactical sling strap so that I could push it behind me to get it out of the way, or let it swing forward to be snugged to my shoulder and used. I’d carried the AR in my hands as I walked through the woods so it wouldn’t get caught on anything, but once I stopped moving, I slid it behind me. I had extra ammo in the pockets of my tac pants, like cargo pants but tougher and better designed for carrying dangerous, helpful things. I had the wrist sheath blades on under the windbreaker; they’d saved my life more than once. Guns ran out of ammo, while knives stayed sharp and ready. I could admit to myself that I wasn’t just armed for an active warrant; I was armed for Olaf. I guess I was armed for bear, too, but I wasn’t really worried about them. If I wasn’t armed enough for a quick walk in the woods, then I needed to give up my tough-ass nicknames. I was the Executioner. I was War. I either deserved my rep, or I didn’t. Damn Olaf for making me doubt myself.

  I expected the air to smell like evergreens because there were so many more of them here than back home, and there was more of that Christmas tree scent, with the sweeter undertones of cedar, but over it all was an earthier smell. It was somewhere between fresh-turned earth and slow water, like a marsh that I remembered from childhood. I’d always known spring was really here when the frogs started to sing in that little marsh. It had smelled like a pond, but also like land. Even by smell I knew that the water was in transition between pond and soil. What I was smelling now let me know that there was something similar close by, except it was even earthier, like peat. I wondered if I just started walking through the trees and underbrush, I’d find a bog somewhere nearby that would be even less water and more land than that long-ago marsh. Was that marsh even still there, or had some housing developer buried it under fresh construction? I hoped not. I hoped the frogs still went there every spring, and the red-winged blackbirds were still singing and nesting in the cattails there. I wanted Micah here with me so much, but the comfort of him and even the help he could give Bobby weren’t worth the risk.

  Micah’s voice was wide-awake this time when he answered the phone. “Hello, my love. Newman just asked us to come help on the case.”

  “That’s great, Micah, really.”

  “Your tone says it’s not so great. What’s wrong?”

  I sighed and let myself lean my back against the thick trunk of the tree beside me. It felt solid and real and good, though with all the weapons and body armor, it wasn’t as cozy as it might have been, but you can’t have it all. I had a moment’s peace by myself out of sight of everyone but the birds and the wind. “I want and need the Coalition’s help with keeping Bobby March
and in human form and alive so we can find out if he was framed and who framed him, but I don’t want you to come.”

  “I’m confused. Do you or don’t you want the Coalition to help you?”

  “I do.”

  “That usually means me, Anita.”

  “You’ve been delegating more out-of-town assignments since Nathaniel requested we both try to cut down.”

  “I have, but you’re there and if I come, we’ll be there together. You usually like that.”

  “Olaf is here, Micah.”

  “Did you call him for backup?”

  “No.”

  “Is he there officially as a marshal?” His voice held a note of urgency now.

  “Yes.”

  “You scared me for a minute, Anita.” I could hear the relief and the puzzlement in his voice.

  “I’m sorry, Micah, that . . . I didn’t mean to.”

  “Okay, apology accepted. If he’s there as Marshal Otto Jeffries, then why are you spooked? Because that’s how you sound.”

  “Can’t you just accept that I don’t want you near him?”

  “We were near him in Florida at Edward’s wedding, and nothing bad happened.”

  “We were all there for the wedding. Then Olaf crashed the party. This time he’s here first, and now that he’s a werelion, I want you to be able to make an informed decision. You’re a grown-up and one of the most competent people I know, so I’ll let you make the final call.”

  “I can understand you calling and telling me he was there, because it would change the security I’d bring, but telling me not to come personally, that surprises me.”

  I tried to put what I was thinking into words and finally gave up. “I don’t know what to say, other than he’s different this time. He’s more insistent about the relationship stuff. The last macho, super-violent werelion that had me as his first-ever true love was Haven, and you know how that turned out.”

  “I agree that werelion society is one of the most violent cultures we have, but Haven lived all his life as a criminal, Anita. He was a mob enforcer starting in his teens and moved up to being a bodyguard for the mob boss and head vampire for Chicago.”