Micah had to put his phone in his other hand because she wanted to see that the sapphires went all the way around. "Very pretty," she said at last, but not like her heart was in it. Again, I had the impression that she'd cared for Nathaniel a lot more than he'd cared for her, which surprised the hell out of me. Not because Nathaniel wasn't wonderful, because I thought he was, but because Melanie had seemed crazy and to care for no one but herself when I first met her.
Micah tried to show her the phone pictures again, but she looked past the phone to me, and she wasn't hostile this time. "You aren't wearing the ring that's in all the videos," she said.
"It's for formal occasions," I said.
"What do you wear for everyday?" she asked.
She was a lamia, her dead vampire master had said she was the last one in the world, but she still wanted to see the ring. Melanie might be more girly girl than I would ever be, even with the snake tail.
"I'll show you the ring if you'll please look at the pictures and answer our questions."
"I was going to answer Callahan's questions."
"Then it's a win-win," I said and went to show her the ring and see if we could get past the weird interpersonal shit and actually learn something. Nicky came with me, and I didn't tell him to stay back. I knew that between those red lips were retractable fangs with the type of venom that had almost killed me once. Did I think she'd try to bite me tonight? No, but with Nicky at my side, I knew if she did try, she'd die failing.
13
"WHY WOULD I know anything of this abomination?" she asked after she'd looked at the pictures.
Micah answered, "They think their family curse originated in ancient Greece, and you were alive then, and in the same area of the world."
"So you thought because my beauty reminds you of these monstrosities that I would know how they came to exist?" Her voice was rising.
"I had hoped you would know something that might help them."
"Help them? Help them how?" She stood up, if that was the right word. She was taller than both Micah and me. Given how much tail she had left lying on the floor, she could have been taller than Nicky if she'd wanted to be.
"They want a cure," Micah said.
"If it is a curse, there is no cure, only another spell."
"Do you think it's a curse?" Micah asked.
"No, curses in my time were aimed at one person, a tribe, or a city perhaps, but not a family line. If the gods wished to destroy a family, they would destroy the bloodline. There would be no descendants left."
I had to ask. "Did the gods actually curse people back then?"
"Of course they did."
"Did you ever see a god or goddess curse someone for real? I mean not just a story you heard, but with your own eyes."
She looked disdainfully at me, rising a little higher on the muscular reach of her tail so she could look even farther down her nose at me. "I was worshipped as a goddess once, Anita. I know the gods cursed mortals."
What are you supposed to say to that?
"We meant no insult," Micah said.
She raised herself higher yet, stretching up on that long, multicolored tail so that it gave the illusion she was literally growing above us like some stage giant. She hissed and I saw the fangs between those ruby red lips. Her forked tongue flicked out between them.
I felt Nicky tense at my back and said, "Silver bullets don't work on her."
"How about lead?" he asked.
"Nope."
"Would you kill me, Anita Blake? Would you finish what you tried to do years ago?"
"You threatened me first," I said.
"Anita killed your old master and freed you, Melanie," Nathaniel said, voice mild and soothing. He was trying to talk her down and maybe remind me that I didn't need to add fuel to her fire.
"She did not do it to free me. She did it to save herself and Jean-Claude."
"True, but she still freed you from someone you hated."
She lowered herself a few inches. "It is good not to be enslaved."
Micah said, "I didn't think that the snake lycanthropes in these photos were lamia, or anything close to you."
"Then why bring them to me?"
"Because there aren't that many snake shapeshifters of any kind, and I hoped you might know more than I did about them."
"Do you know every type of feline supernatural being or shapeshifter in the world?" she asked. She was calmer now. Her temper used to be a lot worse than this. Maybe she'd gone to therapy, too, or maybe just being enslaved to the Earthmover had made her crazier.
Micah smiled and shook his head. "No, no, I don't."
"Then why should I know all the snake ones?"
"Fair point, but you are from ancient Greece and the family traces itself back to there."
"Just because they are of Greek descent doesn't mean I would know the family. Callahan is an Irish last name; do you know all the people of Irish descent?"
He sighed, still smiling. "Of course not."
"Does it amuse you to waste my time?"
"No, no, I'm laughing at myself for wasting both our times and grasping at straws."
"Grasping at straws--what does that mean?"
"It means I'm desperate to help this family, and I'm willing to do almost anything to find a way to do that."
"Why do you care so much about them?" she asked.
"If you'd met them, seen the despair, then you wouldn't have to ask."
She was down to her usual height. She looked at him with her gold, slit-pupiled eyes, and I couldn't read the expression in them. They were different enough from any of the eyes that I knew how to read that she was blank to me.
"I do not think I would be as moved as you were by their plight."
"It's not like any shapeshifting I've ever seen. The snakes are separate from them. It's not them turning into the snake, but as if their body parts are being changed into individual serpents. But the human part of them continues to be separate from it. The snake part doesn't communicate with the rest of them as a normal lycanthrope's beast does."
"My tail does not talk to me either. It is part of me, not some animal trapped inside me as yours is."
"What is happening to this family is neither true lycanthropy nor the ancient magic of the lamia."
"Then they are damned like Sisyphus in Tartarus with no possibility of rescue."
Jamie said, "Sorry, Melanie, but the crowd is getting restless."
"I'll be ready in a moment, Jamie. Callahan and Anita were just leaving." She leaned down to get her bottle of sparkling water and sip from it again. She kissed Nathaniel on the cheek, but the rest of us didn't even get offered a handshake. We were dismissed.
14
THE NEXT GROUP of fans was already being ushered through the door as we went out the exit. The noise of the midway seemed louder for some reason. Maybe I was just tired. Yeah, I was suddenly exhausted. Nathaniel squeezed my hand and got me to look at him. "Are you okay, Anita?" He had to almost yell over the music from the nearest gaming booth, or maybe it was the Ferris wheel, which towered over everything.
"Tired. I think the time-zone change and all the issues with the flights are finally catching up with me," I said, leaning in toward him so I didn't have to yell.
"I know I'm tired," Micah added from the other side of Nathaniel.
Nicky added, "The interview with the lamia was hard on Anita."
We all looked back at him, because he'd let Bram take lead on the return trip. "Why?" Nathaniel asked, looking at me.
"I associate Melanie with a lot of stressful events, Nathaniel."
"Anita almost died twice thanks to the lamia's old master," Rodina added from beside me.
"So Melanie is sort of a trigger for you," he said, studying my face.
I nodded and looked away, because I didn't want him to accidently read my thoughts in that moment, because they weren't fair to him.
"Did you know how close Anita came to dying before you dated the lamia?" Rodina a
sked.
He shook his head. "The last one, because that was in public so everyone in the preternatural community here in St. Louis knew, but I didn't know about the other attack until I'd been in Anita's life for a while."
"He didn't betray you with her, Anita," Rodina said.
I frowned at her. "I never said he did."
"You feel it, though, and I am forced to feel it with you."
Nathaniel stopped walking so suddenly that Nicky almost ran into us.
"You don't normally share out loud the emotions Anita is feeling, in front of the people she's feeling it about," Nicky said.
"Oh, sorry," Rodina said, and she closed her eyes, looking almost pained. "Well, if that burst of emotions is any indication, I have fucked up royally."
"Yeah," I said, "thanks."
"Do you actually think I betrayed you with Melanie?" Nathaniel asked.
"Let's get out of the crowd before we do this," Bram said from in front of us.
I looked at the person running the pellet-gun booth. I'd thought he was human, but a moment of concentration and he was a shapeshifter of some kind. A lot of our employees weren't human anymore, which meant they could hear above the crowd noise. Great, just great.
"Thanks, Bram, yeah, get us some privacy."
The three of us kept holding hands, but we were quiet. Bram opened the door in the back wall but went through first rather than hold it for us, because bodyguards always go through the doors first if there are enough of them for it. Ru caught the door and held it for the three of us and Nicky, so that he and his sister brought up the rear. The guards in the little entry room had changed shift, and I knew these two.
Peppy--Pepita--was a little taller than me, darkly Hispanic, with her straight black hair cut even shorter than when she'd come to us, so that it was shaved on the sides and only a little longer on top. She was built like a square, with a pair of shoulders that would be the envy of any man. In the black on black of the behind-the-scenes bodyguards, she looked very masculine. The body-armor vest hid her chest and made it look more like nice chest muscles than breasts. She was partnered with Roger Parks, who was bigger than anyone in the room but Nicky, and taller than anyone but Bram. Roger was a nice guy who looked like he'd take your head off and shit down the hole. He played to the menacing looks, but in a fight Peppy was the more dangerous of the two, partly because she couldn't count on people backing down from just her appearance. I had to work harder, too.
She grinned at me. "Hola, gatita negra." She used the nickname that the wererats had given me; I was their black kitten. I didn't like being called just Kitten, but somehow being their black kitten wasn't the same.
"Hola, Peppy," I said, and I turned to the other guard. "Hey, Roger, Roger Parks."
Roger smiled and shook his head. "Hey, Anita. Are you always going to greet me like that, with both my names?"
"It's how you introduced yourself to me the first time," I said, smiling.
He rolled his eyes. "I remember."
"It makes me remember you."
The far door opened, and Claudia came through it with Pride at her back. "If we keep hiring new people, even I won't remember everyone's names."
Peppy and Roger did the civilian equivalent of coming to attention. I'd seen some of our ex-military types salute Claudia before they could catch themselves. She was head of security at the Circus, which meant she was in charge of the main security for Jean-Claude and the rest of us principal clients. Though I wasn't sure client was the right word when we were their bosses and paid their salaries.
Claudia was also six feet, six inches tall and built so that she could have walked onto most fit-model or Ms. Olympia contests and won by sheer intimidation. Her straight black hair was back in a tight ponytail like usual. It left her face clean and very unadorned. She had strong features, very Hispanic, and since she never wore makeup, her face and the rest of her were so damned intimidating it took a while to realize that she was actually beautiful. She was guapa, which is a Spanish word for a woman who is handsome rather than pretty, like the difference between Nathaniel and Nicky in attractiveness.
Pride was a few inches over six feet tall, but beside Claudia he looked shorter. Only his shoulder spread was wider than hers; he didn't hit the weights as hard as she did, but then few of the guard did except Nicky. Except for him and Roger, even the other men in the room looked delicate beside her. Though as Claudia walked farther into the room, I realized that Peppy's shoulder spread was wider. It wasn't that the girl was lifting heavier than Claudia; it was just natural body shape. Peppy had fabulous shoulders and arms if you were wanting to lift or box.
Pride followed Claudia like a blond, golden-skinned shadow. His short hair curled too much to avoid it unless he wanted to shave it down, so it spilled artfully or messily around his handsome face. He was model handsome, like most of the golden-clan weretigers, with blue-on-blue tiger eyes adding to the exoticness of his skin tone. He wasn't a blond who had tanned to a light gold; his natural skin color was golden, like most of his clan.
"Are you saying that you're having trouble keeping the new security hires straight, too?" I asked Claudia.
"I remember their faces, but names are starting to be a problem."
"Then we need to put a hiring freeze on," I said, "if you agree?"
"I agree, but it's not up to me. I'm only in charge of the security at the Circus and the main security around Jean-Claude and the rest of you. Hiring for other clubs and the overall hiring isn't up to me."
"Fredo would agree with you," I said.
"Fredo is still out of town on that special assignment," she said. Fredo, like a lot of the wererats, did contract work overseas, though I'd thought he was past the age for it. Wereanimals age slower than humans do, but he looked well over fifty, and that's old for contract--read mercenary--work. Fredo had two specialties, knives and driving, so wherever he was, either he was driving someone who needed protection, or he was doing something with knives that I probably didn't want to know about.
"I thought you were in charge until Fredo got back from his assignment," I said.
"So did I."
"Okay, who's hiring all these people, then?"
"Each animal group gets to bring in people of their choice," she said.
"Yeah," I said.
"After the last few years they're trying to recruit people that can help them fight, if it's needed."
"Logical," I said.
"People who are good in a fight aren't always good at working in anything else, Anita."
I looked at her, trying to think my way through it. "Are you saying that the animal groups in town are bringing in fighters and then expecting us to find places for them to work in our security without asking first?"
Micah said, "Claudia, you should have said something to us."
"You're busy helping other cities with bigger issues than this," she said.
"Then you should have brought it to me," I said.
She gave me a look, one hand on her hip, and I realized that though her nails were trimmed as short as possible for fighting and weapons practice, they were painted red. I'd never seen her use polish before.
"You're traveling out of town for the Marshals Service and to raise the dead almost as much as Micah is lately. Besides, Anita, this is my job."
"And you're great at it," I said.
"But it's not your job to talk to animal groups outside of the wererats about their new people," Micah said.
"No, it's not. Our king tried to speak with some of the other leaders, but they accused him of trying to serve the interests of the wererats over the rest of the groups in town."
"It shouldn't have fallen to Rafael to try to fix this," Micah said.
"Then just stop saying yes to employing them as part of our security force," I said.
She closed her arms over her chest and scowled. Her arms tensed and all that muscle stood to attention. It was sort of eye-catching, but I made myself raise my eyes to look at
her face in case she thought I was staring at her chest instead of her arms. I think she was grinding her teeth.
"Wow, you're pissed. What happened, or what else happened?"
"They were recruited to the various animal groups and invited to move to St. Louis with the understanding that they would be guaranteed employment."
"It's not our job to guarantee them employment," Micah said.
"That needs to come from you or Anita."
"Why hasn't Jean-Claude stepped in and stopped it?" I asked.
She shook her head. "He told me to talk to his accountant. He sees it as a money issue, and there's money to pay them. What there isn't, is work for them, and too many idle fighters are bad news."
"Agreed," I said.
"I'll talk to Sylvie about the payroll and then to Jean-Claude about what I learn," Micah said.
"You leave again on Friday," Claudia said.
"I'll talk to them before we leave for the wedding on Friday. I promise."
"And I'll explain to Jean-Claude that it's more a security issue than a money issue," I said.
"We can always use really good people," Claudia said.
"I'm confused," I said.
"I don't want to pass up people like the SEAL team, Anita, but we don't need more people whose only experience has been as college bouncers, or college athletes that didn't quite make the cut to professional."
"May I add one?" Pride asked.
Claudia nodded, once down, once up.
"We don't need more martial artists that have never had a fight outside of a tournament."
"Sorry, Claudia," Roger said, "but I was a bouncer at a college bar and I'd been in martial arts and wrestling all the way through college myself."
"Yeah, but you don't suck like most of them do."
Roger grinned at her. "Thanks, boss."
Peppy added, "A lot of the new wereanimals aren't very good with violence."
"They're wereanimals," I said. "They hunt animals; that's violence."
"Hunting for food isn't the same thing as when the food has fangs, claws, and fists of its own," Claudia said.
"Fair enough," I said, "but we don't need people that can't fight for real on our payroll."
"I couldn't agree more," she said.
"And you say you brought this to Jean-Claude's attention?" Micah said.
"I did, but as I said, he saw it as a payroll issue, not of the new hires being below the standards that the wererats had set for your bodyguards."
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