Sucker Punch

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  Angel came over to us and tried to help by touching the sheriff’s arm lightly, enough to make most men debate on if you were flirting or just a touchy-feely kind of person.

  He shook his head and patted her hand where it lay on his arm. “I appreciate the attention from a lovely young woman, Ms. Devereaux, but it’s not going to get you in to see the prisoner.”

  “What will? And a minute ago you were calling me Miss Angel. I liked it,” she said, smiling one of her smiles that wasn’t real, but I’d seen her use it to make men back in St. Louis trip over their own feet. It was like she and her twin brother had come into the world knowing how to flirt.

  Leduc patted her hand again and stepped out of reach. “Well, then, Miss Angel, I need proof that you can help and that you’re not just here to screw up the warrant of execution. I read up on your Coalition. You do as much politics for supernatural rights as you do for attack survivors and their families. I don’t want Ray’s death turned into political sound bites.”

  “Let us take them back so they can meet Bobby, and we’ll go from there,” I said.

  “Come on, Duke, what can it hurt just to introduce them?” Newman asked.

  “I promise not to flirt if you’ll just let us talk to him,” Angel said, face solemn with her eyes very wide, like she was trying to look innocent and sincere. She failed, but it was cute as hell.

  Leduc laughed, looking at the ground and shaking his head. “Damn, all right. Talking doesn’t hurt.”

  He knocked on the door, and I heard Deputy Frankie unlock it. They hadn’t locked it the entire time I’d been here, or I didn’t think they had. Apparently, this many lycanthropes in the police station required more security. Whatever made them feel better. I decided not to point out that the door wouldn’t have held against any of the Coalition shapeshifters. Hell, I wasn’t sure it would have held against me if I wanted in badly enough. If it had been locked when Newman had kicked it in to stop Troy from killing Bobby, they’d have needed a new lock or a new door.

  I’d never tried to get through a security door outside a cellblock before. I looked at the door sort of speculatively as we followed Leduc through it. I still wasn’t used to being more than human strong. I still didn’t know everything I could do without injuring myself. It was like being a new superhero. You never knew what you could do until you did it.

  51

  DEPUTY FRANKIE UNLOCKED the door for us, but we couldn’t all fit into the area in front of the cells, so I introduced everyone a couple at a time while Leduc watched from the door and Frankie tried to stay small in the corner farthest from the outer door.

  Bobby’s eyes got a little wide when he was introduced to Nicky and the SEALs. Nicky was just big, so a lot of people gave him a wide berth. Without him wearing sunglasses and having hair to hide his missing eye, some people thought he was a pirate or a villain in a movie. The fact that Bobby reacted almost the same way to Milligan and Custer said that he wasn’t judging the men on just size and scary-looking injuries, but on physical potential. That he didn’t react to Ethan that way wasn’t a mark against Bobby; it was a testament to how well Ethan could hide in plain sight. Ethan was fast, dangerous, and well trained like the other men, but his basic energy was pleasant, almost gentle. It was one of the reasons that he’d started going out on jobs with the Coalition: He didn’t throw his energy around or try to dominate anyone. It just wasn’t important to him.

  Angel didn’t play dominance games either, but when Bobby saw her, it was obvious he was thinking not if Angel could kick his ass, but how her ass looked in the pencil skirt she was wearing. It’s good to be pretty and dress up, but so many people make the mistake of seeing only that part, as if there’s no person inside the dress or behind the makeup. Maybe men don’t deal with that as much because they don’t wear makeup and pretty clothes. Who knows? Whatever. Bobby was solidly in that see-the-pretty-and-not-the-person camp. He was a good-looking guy who had been raised with money. Maybe appearance was all he ever had to see?

  He was introduced to Pierette, too, but he liked either tall women or Angel’s flashier fashion sense, because he didn’t give Pierette half the attention he gave Angel. It wasn’t just Olaf who couldn’t sense her inner leopard, though I took points away for Bobby not sensing a beastie to match his own. Most of them would sense their own flavor faster than other animals. Pierette, like most of the old queen’s bodyguard, was excellent at hiding what she was. Would her being too good at hiding her beast when she played so scared and weak give the game away to Olaf?

  Of course, Bobby wasn’t the only one who saw the pretty. Frankie stared at Angel like a teenage boy seeing the crush of his dreams. In this case, they were her dreams. I didn’t usually see cops—or women, especially lesbians in small Midwestern towns who happened to be cops—on the job act that obvious. It was like Angel had gotten through all Frankie’s defenses and left her gobsmacked. I had to turn my face so I didn’t look too amused. I wasn’t sure that Frankie realized how much of herself she’d given away in that one look.

  Angel noticed, because she always noticed that sort of thing. She flashed Frankie a smile that made the woman blush even through her darker skin tone. Anyone can make a redhead blush, but making a dark-skinned brunette blush takes talent.

  Leduc was scowling from Angel to Frankie as if this was all news to him, and he wasn’t very happy about it. I hoped that Frankie hadn’t hurt her chances of having a police career here in Hanuman.

  “Well, now we’re all nice and friendly,” Leduc said, “but what the hell good are you to me and this investigation?”

  “Bobby,” I said, “if you’ll give Angel your hand through the bars, she can demonstrate.”

  He frowned at me. “What will she do to my hand?”

  “It won’t hurt. Promise,” Angel said.

  “You know how you lost control earlier and I had to hurt you to calm things down?” I asked.

  He made a face. “How could I forget? I haven’t been hit that hard since I stopped playing football.”

  I smiled at the compliment, because from an athletic guy, it was a compliment. “Angel and Ethan here can help you control your beast without resorting to violence.”

  “How?” Bobby asked, and sounded suspicious.

  “She’ll use energy instead of fists.”

  “Will it hurt?”

  “Not as much as me breaking your nose again.”

  That made him smile, almost embarrassed. He walked up to the bars and held out his hand. Angel turned it palm up and rested it in her slightly smaller hand. Her energy breathed along the side of my body like a warm spring wind. It was as gentle as that sounds. Since, in full-blown golden-tiger mode, her energy could feel like you were putting your hand into live fire, it was always impressive to feel her be so delicate.

  Bobby smiled. Apparently Angel’s energy felt as good to him as it did to me. “It’s like you’re petting my leopard. I mean, that’s not exactly it, but that’s how it feels.”

  “That’s a good analogy,” Angel said, smiling at him like he’d said something smart, which he had.

  Bobby smiled back. In the corner, Frankie frowned as if she thought Bobby was cutting into her time. It was too early for that kind of crankiness, at least in my opinion, but then I’m a poly. We share better than most.

  “I can help you control your beast, but not as well as Angel and Ethan can, and Petra is another wereleopard,” I said.

  Bobby looked at her more seriously then. “I can’t sense it.”

  “Thank you for the compliment, Bobby,” Pierette said, and there was that touch of humbleness and just a hint of gentle flirting.

  If I hadn’t been standing right next to her, I might not have noticed the slight turn of her head, the smile coupled with the shy glance quickly turned to the floor. It was part her own body language, but not all of it. It matched the fear she kept letting Olaf
glimpse. She was masterful at playing her part, a mix of truth and lie that was far more subtle than Edward and his Ted persona.

  Bobby took the shy-flirting bait and wasted a nice smile on her. Sometimes it’s not the big showy rose that wins the day. Sometimes it’s the violet underfoot or the daffodil nodding in the breeze. The moment I thought of the analogy, I wondered what kind of flower I was and decided a thistle. A big prickly purple thistle, definitely not a flower to pick for a bouquet.

  “Are you going to show me your energy?” Bobby asked.

  Pierette did that shy eye flick and smiled a little bit more as she shook her head. “I’ll only step in if I feel your leopard rising. Angel and Ethan will do the energy work until then.”

  Bobby looked at Ethan. “Is your energy as gentle as Angel’s?”

  Angel answered, “Gentler.”

  Bobby looked like he didn’t believe her. She shook her head and said, “I’ve learned to be gentle, but Ethan seemed to come that way. Didn’t you, dearie?”

  She put her hand through his arm, which compromised his gun hand, but in the narrow confines of the hallway, if things went sideways it would be empty hands or blades, not guns. I knew Ethan had blades that he could reach with either hand, just like I did. We all practiced shooting with both hands, but most people carried for their dominant hand.

  “Are you a gentle man, Flynn?” Olaf asked from near the door. He broke the one word into two—not gentleman, but a gentle man—and he made sure they sounded like an insult. I knew Ethan wouldn’t rise to the verbal bait.

  “I try to be,” Ethan said with a smile.

  Olaf made a sound that wasn’t complimentary. I felt strangely like I needed to come to Ethan’s defense. I actually opened my mouth to say something about how good Ethan was with weapons and hand-to-hand, but Angel put her hand through my arm and drew us together, almost close enough to be PDA again. Was it just the casual touch of most of the wereanimals, or was she trying to tell me something? Until I could ask her in private, I let it go. Besides, I didn’t need to defend my people to Olaf. They were good in a fight, or they wouldn’t have been working as bodyguards for us. Angel was an exception. She could fight if she had to, because she was gold tiger clan and they insisted that, male or female, you had to know the basics, but she had other skills that made her good with the Coalition. A background in social work and psychology just to name two.

  “That’s it? That’s all you can do?” Leduc asked.

  Angel looked up at him, smiling, and Ethan and I both pulled away to stand on our own. “I’m sorry, Sheriff. I didn’t realize you couldn’t feel the energy.”

  “It wasn’t much energy to feel,” Olaf said, and sounded almost sullen. Did he really resent me calling in other shapeshifters that much?

  “You’re too new to understand how impressive it is,” Nicky said.

  “My control is not that of a newcomer.”

  “Your control isn’t what I’m questioning, Otto, old buddy. It’s your lack of experience I’m questioning.”

  Olaf scowled at Nicky, and there was a flare of energy like the swat of a lion’s paw. It didn’t actually hurt, but it didn’t feel good either.

  “Now I’m questioning your control,” Nicky said.

  Olaf made a sound low in his throat that was almost a growl.

  “Enough, Nicky,” I said.

  “So, what was your last name again?” Leduc asked.

  Nicky answered, “Murdock, Nicky Murdock.”

  The sheriff turned to me. “So, Murdock, is your energy all gentle, too, like Mr. Flynn’s over there?”

  “No,” he said.

  Leduc looked at me. “Is Murdock another ‘fiancé’ like Jean-Claude or Callahan?” He gestured to make little quote marks when he said the word fiancé.

  “No,” I said.

  I thought, Nicky is my Bride, as in Brides of Dracula. Brides of Anita just didn’t have the same ring to it, and Nicky would be more a groom, but even Dracula couldn’t make groom as cool sounding. If I’d been a real blood-sucking vampire, Nicky would have been a vampire, too, but a weak one who obeyed my every whim. I didn’t want blind obedience, lucky for him, and somehow we’d ended up falling in love, which is something you’re never supposed to do with vampire Brides. They’re supposed to be cannon fodder you sacrifice to save yourself as needed. You can always make more.

  Leduc said, “So if he’s not what Callahan and Jean-Claude are to you, what is he to you?”

  “He’s my lover,” I said, though I still fought not to squirm.

  I really hated introducing people like that, because it implied just sex to most strangers. Nicky and others in our poly group thought lover meant love as well as sex, so that was what we’d settled on. Nicky would have been fine without a specific label, but most of the rest of our group had started to get weird as the weddings approached since we weren’t putting rings on most of their fingers. If they couldn’t be my husband, or my fiancé, then they wanted to be something.

  “And what are you, Petra?” Olaf asked.

  The woman seemed to shrink in on herself from just that much attention. I’d seen her pound the hell out of people in fight practice back home, but now she played the meek mouse to perfection. I sort of hated how good she was at it. It made me doubt her more and more, but it also felt like manipulating Olaf when he’d been behaving himself admirably.

  “I am a friend with benefits,” she said as if it was just true with no emotion attached. Pierette was content with being on the edges of our poly group. She and her master had been partners both in battle and in bed for so long, she didn’t really want to be dating anyone else. I was good with that; I was dating enough people.

  “And what are you, Angel?” Olaf asked, and managed to make her name seem like either a romantic nickname or a naughty one.

  She gave him that mischievous smile that held a touch of evil in it, because she thought he had started it. I knew that Olaf didn’t see what he’d done as starting anything.

  “I’m fabulous. How are you?”

  Custer laughed, and I sighed. I did not want Olaf to think we were making fun of him, but he surprised me, because he got the joke and upped the ante.

  “I’m very good,” he said, and his voice was even a little lower as if he could make his testosterone rise at will. I wouldn’t have put it past him.

  The corner of Angel’s mouth dropped, and she suddenly had a look I’d seen before as she worked her way through the dating pool in St. Louis, both male and female, because she was as bisexual as her brother. It was a considering look, a can-you-back-up-the-brag? look. She knew who and what Olaf was, so she should have known better, but the look seemed genuine.

  If we’d been alone, I’d have asked her what the fuck she was thinking, but we weren’t alone, so I concentrated on business. “Otto, are you coming with me to question the witnesses?”

  “Perhaps Angel would want to come with us?”

  “She’s needed here,” I said.

  “What about Petra?”

  “What about her?”

  “She could come with us.”

  “No, she can’t,” I said.

  Olaf smiled at me, and something about the look made me want to say, I’m not jealous of you and other women. I’m scared for them. But Leduc was there, and Newman. I couldn’t talk in front of the sheriff, so I didn’t try. I just went for the door with Nicky at my heels.

  We were almost to the SUV that Nicky had driven up in when Olaf called to us, “This is official marshal business. One of us should drive.”

  “I don’t have a rental car, so you mean you should drive,” I said, turning around.

  He just stood there in the sunshine with his glasses hiding his eyes and looked at me. I don’t know how long we would have waited for someone to blink first, because Nicky moved between us and literally broke the eye
contact.

  “The clock is ticking for the life you want to save, Anita.” He was right, so very right.

  “Fine, you can drive.”

  “Anita gets shotgun,” Olaf said, the way Edward usually said it.

  Maybe because of that, I didn’t argue with him. I just got in the passenger door when he held it for me. Nicky opened his own door and sat behind Olaf.

  “You will have more leg room if you sit behind Anita.”

  “I don’t need as much leg room as you do. I’ll be fine.”

  “No,” Olaf said.

  Nicky smiled, but this time it was a baring of teeth like a dog snarling.

  “Stop it, both of you,” I said.

  “Not precise enough for me to have to stop,” Nicky said.

  “Do you want me to make it so you have to obey me?”

  “Not really,” he said.

  “Then please just stop for now. Okay?”

  “I’m your Bride. Your wish really is my command.”

  “Is it that complete, the control she has over you?” Olaf asked.

  “It can be,” Nicky said.

  “Can be, but isn’t?” Olaf asked.

  “I’m not into slaves, Olaf,” I said, “and my power with Nicky seems to recognize that. Now, are you driving, or do we need to get in the other car so Nicky can drive?”

  “I am driving.”

  “Fine. Then drive.”

  “He sits behind you, not me.”

  Nicky drew breath to protest and I said, “Nicky, please just sit behind me.”

  He did it then because I’d told him to, or because of the “please.” I wasn’t sure which, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I also wasn’t sure why Nicky was needling Olaf more than normal, or why Pierette had made herself look as close as she could to his victim preference. What the hell was going on, and why didn’t I know about it? So much for me being anyone’s master.

  52

  WE’D PLUGGED THE address into my phone, so the tinny voice was giving us directions. Except for that, we drove in silence. Normally Nicky and I are fine riding in silence, and Olaf was, too.