Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Collection 6-10

by Laurell Hamilton

  “Marriage seems to agree with you,” I said, smiling.

  She smiled back. “You should try it sometime.”

  I shook my head. “Thanks a lot.”

  “I have to steal Anita away for just a moment.” At least she didn’t say she needed help in the kitchen. Richard would have known that was a lie. He was a much better cook than I was.

  Catherine led me back to the spare bedroom where the coats were piled in a heap. There was one real fur coat draped over the pile. I was betting I knew who owned it. Monica liked being close to dead things.

  As soon as the door was shut, Catherine grabbed my hands and giggled, I swear. “Richard is wonderful. My junior high science teachers never looked like that.”

  I smiled, and it was one of those big, dopey smiles. The silly kind that say you’re in horrible lust if not love, maybe both, and it feels good even if it is stupid.

  We sat down on the bed, pushing the coats to one side. “He is handsome,” I said, my voice as neutral as I could make it.

  “Anita, don’t give me that. I’ve never seen you glow around anyone.”

  “I don’t glow.”

  She grinned at me and nodded. “Yes, you do.”

  “Do not,” I said, but it was hard to be sullen when I wanted to smile. “All right, I like him, a lot. Happy?”

  “You’ve been dating him for nearly seven months. Where’s the engagement ring?”

  I did frown at her then. “Catherine, just because you’re deliriously happily married doesn’t mean everyone else has to be married, too.”

  She shrugged and laughed.

  I stared into her shining face and shook my head. There had to be more to Bob than met the eye. He was about thirty pounds heavier than he should have been, balding, with small round glasses on a rather nondescript face. He did not have a sparkling personality, either. I’d been ready to give her the thumbs down until I saw the way he looked at Catherine. He looked at her like she was the whole world, and it was a nice, safe, wonderful world. A lot of people are pretty, and clever repartee is on every television set, but dependability, that’s rare.

  “I didn’t bring Richard here to get your stamp of approval; I knew you’d like him.”

  “Then why did you keep him such a secret? I’ve tried to meet him a dozen times.”

  I shrugged. The truth was because I knew she’d get that light in her eyes. That maniacal gleam that your married friends get when you’re not married and you’re dating anyone. Or worse yet, not dating, and they’re trying to fix you up. Catherine had the look now.

  “Don’t tell me you planned this entire party just so you could meet Richard?”

  “Partly. How else was I ever going to?”

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” Catherine said.

  Bob opened the door. He still looked ordinary to me, but from the light in Catherine’s face, she saw something else. He smiled at her. The smile made his whole face glow and I could see something shining and fine. Love makes us all beautiful. “Sorry to interrupt the girl talk, but there’s a phone call for Anita.”

  “Did they say who it is?”

  “Ted Forrester; says it’s business.”

  My eyes widened. Ted Forrester was an alias for a man I knew as Edward. He was a hit man who specialized in vampires, lycanthropes, or anything else that wasn’t quite human. I was a licensed vampire hunter. Occasionally, our paths crossed. We might even on some level be friends, maybe.

  “Who’s Ted Forrester?” Catherine asked.

  “Bounty hunter,” I said. Ted, Edward’s alias, was a bounty hunter with papers to prove it, all nice and legal. I stood and went for the door.

  “Is something wrong?” Catherine asked. Not much got past her, which was one of the reasons I avoided her when I was ass deep in alligators. She was smart enough to figure out when things were off-center but she didn’t carry a gun. If you can’t defend yourself, you are cannon fodder. The only thing that kept Richard from being cannon fodder was that he was a werewolf. Although refusing to kill people made him almost cannon fodder, shapeshifter or not.

  “I was just hoping not to have to do any work tonight,” I said.

  “I thought you had the entire weekend off,” she said.

  “So did I.”

  I took the phone in the home office they’d set up. They’d divided the room down the middle. One half was decorated in country with teddy bears and miniature gingham rockers, the other half was masculine with hunting prints and a ship in a bottle on the desk. Compromise at its best.

  I picked up the phone and said. “Hello?”

  “It’s Edward.”

  “How did you get this number?”

  He was quiet for a second. “Child’s play.”

  “Why did you hunt me down, Edward? What’s up?”

  “Interesting choice of words,” he said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I was just offered a contract on your life, for enough money to make it worth my while.”

  It was my turn to be quiet. “Did you take it?”

  “Would I be calling you if I had?”

  “Maybe,” I said.

  He laughed. “True, but I’m not going to take it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Friendship.”

  “Try again,” I said.

  “I figure I’ll get to kill more people guarding you. If I take the contract, I only get to kill you.”

  “Comforting. Did you say guard?”

  “I’ll be in town tomorrow.”

  “You’re that sure someone else will take the contract?”

  “I don’t even open my door for less than a hundred grand, Anita. Someone will take the hit, and it’ll be someone good. Not as good as me, but good.”

  “Any advice until you get into town?”

  “I haven’t given them my answer yet. That’ll delay them. Once I say no, it’ll take a little time to contact another hitter. You should be safe tonight. Enjoy your weekend off.”

  “How did you know I had the weekend off?”

  “Craig is a very talkative secretary. Very helpful.”

  “I’ll have to speak to him about that,” I said.

  “You do that.”

  “You’re sure that there won’t be a hitter in town tonight?”

  “Nothing in life is sure, Anita, but I wouldn’t like it if a client tried to hire me and then gave the job to someone else.”

  “You lose many clients at your own hands?” I asked.

  “No comment,” he said.

  “So one last night of safety,” I said.

  “Probably, but be careful anyway.”

  “Who put the hit out on me?”

  “I don’t know,” Edward said.

  “What do you mean, you don’t know? You have to know so you can get paid.”

  “I go through intermediaries most of the time. Keeps down the chance that the next client is a cop.”

  “How do you find wayward clients if they piss you off?”

  “I can find them, but it takes time. Anita, if you’ve got a really good hitter on your tail, time is something you won’t have.”

  “Oh, that was comforting.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to be comforting,” he said, “Can you think of anyone who hates you so badly and has this kind of money?”

  I thought about that for a minute. “No. Most of the people that would fit the bill are dead.”

  “The only good enemy is a dead enemy,” Edward said.

  “Yeah.”

  “I heard a rumor that you’re dating the master of the city. Is that true?”

  I hesitated. I realized I was embarrassed to admit the truth to Edward. “Yeah, it’s true.”

  “I had to hear you say it.” I could almost hear him shake his head over the phone. “Damn, Anita, you know better than that.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “Did you dump Richard?”

  “No.”

&
nbsp; “Which monster are you with tonight, bloodsucker or flesh-eater?”

  “None of your damn business,” I said.

  “Fine. Pick the monster of your choice tonight, Anita, have a good time. Tomorrow we start trying to keep you alive.” He hung up. If it had been anybody else, I’d have said he was angry about me dating a vampire. Or maybe disappointed would be a better word.

  I hung up the phone and sat there for a few minutes, letting it all sink in. Someone was trying to kill me. Nothing new there, but this someone was hiring expert help. That was new. I’d never had an assassin after my butt before. I waited to feel fear wash over me, but it didn’t. Oh, in a vague sort of way, I was afraid, but not like I should have been. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe it could happen. I did believe. It was more that so much else had happened in the last year that I couldn’t get too excited yet. If the assassin jumped out and started shooting, I’d deal with it. Maybe later I’d even have an attack of nerves. But I didn’t get many attacks of nerves anymore. Part of me was numbing out like a combat veteran. There was just too much to take in, so you stop taking it in. I almost wished I had been scared. Fear will keep you alive; indifference won’t.

  Somewhere out there, by tomorrow, someone would have my name on a to-do list. Pick up dry cleaning, buy groceries, kill Anita Blake.

  3

  * * *

  I STEPPED back into the living room and caught Richard’s eye. I was sort of ready to go home. Somehow, knowing an assassin was out there, or would be soon, had put a damper on the evening.

  “What’s wrong?” Richard asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. I know, I know, I had to tell him, but how do you tell your sweetie that people are trying to kill you? Not in a room full of people. Maybe in the car.

  “Yes, there is. You’ve got that tension between your eyebrows that means you’re trying not to frown.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  He smoothed his finger between my eyes. “Yes, you are.”

  I glared at him. “Am not.”

  He smiled. “Now you are frowning.” His face sobered. “What’s wrong?”

  I sighed. I stepped closer to him, not for romance but for privacy. Vampires had incredibly good hearing, and I didn’t want Robert to know. He’d tattle to Jean-Claude. If I wanted Jean-Claude to know, I’d tell him myself.

  “It was Edward on the phone.”

  “What does he want?” Richard was frowning now, too.

  “Someone tried to hire him to kill me.”

  A look of total astonishment blossomed on his face, and I was glad his back was to the room. He closed his mouth, opened it, and finally said, “I would say you’re kidding, but I know you’re not. Why would anyone want to kill you?”

  “There are plenty of people who would like to see me dead, Richard. But none of them have the kind of money that’s being put out for the hit.”

  “How can you be so calm about this?”

  “Would it solve anything if I had hysterics?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not that.” He seemed to think for a second. “It’s that you’re not outraged that someone’s trying to kill you. You just accept it, almost like it’s normal. It isn’t normal.”

  “Assassins aren’t normal, even for me, Richard,” I said.

  “Just vampires, zombies, and werewolves,” he said.

  I smiled. “Yeah.”

  He hugged me tightly and whispered, “Loving you can be very scary sometimes.”

  I wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning my face against his chest. I closed my eyes, and for just a moment I breathed in the smell of him. It was more than his aftershave; it was the smell of his skin, his warmth. Him. For just a moment, I sank against him and let it all go. I let his arms be my shelter. I knew that a well-placed bullet would destroy it all, but for a few seconds, I felt safe. Illusion is sometimes all that keeps us sane.

  I pushed away from him with a sigh. “Let’s give our regrets to Catherine and get out of here.”

  He touched my cheek gently, looking into my eyes. “We can stay if you want.”

  I nestled my cheek against his hand and shook my head. “If the shit hits the fan tomorrow, I don’t want to spend tonight at a party. I’d rather go back to my apartment and cuddle.”

  He flashed me that smile that warmed me down to my toes. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  I smiled back because I couldn’t not smile back. “I’ll go tell Catherine.”

  “I’ll get the coats,” he said.

  We did our various tasks and left early. Catherine gave me a very knowing smile. I wished she was right. Leaving early to jump Richard’s bones beat the heck out of the truth. Monica watched us leave. I knew that she and Robert would report back to Jean-Claude. Fine. He knew I was dating Richard. I hadn’t lied to anybody. Monica was a lawyer at Catherine’s firm—frightening thought all on its own—so she had a legitimate reason to be invited. Jean-Claude hadn’t arranged it, but I didn’t like being spied on, no matter how it came about.

  The walk to the car was nerve-racking. Every shadow was suddenly a potential hiding place. Every noise a footstep. I didn’t draw my gun, but my hand ached to do it. “Dammit,” I said, softly. The numbness was wearing off. I wasn’t sure it was an improvement.

  “What is it?” Richard asked. He was suddenly scanning the darkness, not looking at me while he talked. His nostrils flared just a little, and I realized he was scenting the wind.

  “Just jumpy. I don’t see anyone out here, but I’m suddenly looking too damn hard.”

  “I don’t smell anyone close to us, but they could be downwind. The only gun I smell is yours.”

  “You can smell my gun?”

  He nodded. “You’ve cleaned it recently. I can smell the oil.”

  I smiled and shook my head. “You are so blasted normal, sometimes I forget you turn furry once a month.”

  “Knowing how good you are at spotting lycanthropes, that’s quite a compliment.” He smiled. “Do you think assassins would fall from the trees if I held your hand right now?”

  I smiled. “I think we’re safe for the moment.”

  He curved his fingers around my hand, and a tingle went up my arm like he’d touched a nerve. He rubbed his thumb in small circles on the back of my hand and took a deep breath. “It’s almost nice to know that this assassin business has unnerved you, too. I don’t want you afraid, but sometimes it’s hard to be your guy when I think you may be braver than I am. That sounds like macho crap, doesn’t it?”

  I stared up at him. “There’s a lot of macho crap out there, Richard. At least you know it’s crap.”

  “Can this male chauvinist wolf kiss you?”

  “Always.”

  He leaned his face downward, and I rose on tiptoe to meet his mouth with mine, my free hand against his chest for balance. We could kiss without me going on tiptoe, but Richard tended to get a crick in his neck.

  It was a quicker kiss than normal because I had this itching in the middle of my back, right between the shoulder blades. I knew it was my imagination, but I felt too exposed out in the open.

  Richard sensed it and pulled away. He went around to the driver’s side of his car and opened his door, leaning across to unlock mine. He didn’t open the door for me. He knew better than that. I could open my own bloody door.

  Richard’s car was an old Mustang, sixty something, a Mach One. I knew all this because he had told me. It was orange with a black racing stripe. The bucket seats were black leather, but the front seat was small enough that we could hold hands when he wasn’t using the gear shift.

  Richard pulled out onto 270 South. Friday night traffic spilled around us in a bright sparkle of lights. Everybody out trying to enjoy the weekend. I wondered how many of them had assassins after them. I was betting I was one of the few.

  “You’re quiet,” Richard said.

  “Yeah.”

  “I won’t ask what you’re thinking about. I can guess.”

  I look
ed at him. The darkness of the car wrapped around us. Cars at night are like your own private world, hushed and dark, intimate. The lights of oncoming traffic swept over his face, highlighting it, then leaving us in darkness.

  “How do you know I’m not thinking about what you’d look like without your clothes on?”

  He flashed me a grin. “Tease.”

  I smiled. “Sorry. No sexual innuendo unless I’m willing to jump your bones.”

  “That’s your rule, not mine,” Richard said. “I’m a big boy. Give me all the sexual innuendo you want, I can take it.”

  “If I’m not going to sleep with you, it doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Let me worry about that,” he said.

  “Why, Mr. Zeeman, are you inviting me to make sexual overtures to you?”

  His smile widened, a whiteness in the dark. “Oh, please.”

  I leaned toward him as far as the seat belt would allow, putting a hand on the back of his seat, putting my face inches from the smooth expanse of his neck. I took a deep breath in and let it out, slowly, so close to his skin that my own breath came back to me like a warm cloud. I kissed the bend of his neck, running my lips lightly up and down the skin.

  Richard made a small, contented sound.

  I curled my knees into my seat, straining against the seat belt so I could kiss the big pulse in his neck, the curve of his jaw. He turned his face into me. We kissed, but my nerves weren’t that good. I turned his face away. “You watch the road.”

  He shifted gears, his upper arm brushing against my breasts. I sighed against him, putting my hand over his, holding it on the gear shift, keeping his arm pressed against me.

  We stayed frozen for a second, then he moved against me, rubbing. I scooted out from under his arm, settling back into my seat. I couldn’t breathe past the pulse in my throat. I shivered, hugging myself. The feel of his body against mine made places all over my body tighten.

  “What’s wrong?” he said, his voice low and soft.

  I shook my head. “We can’t keep doing this.”

  “If you stopped because of me, I was enjoying myself.”

  “So was I. That’s the problem,” I said.

  Richard took in a deep breath and let it out, sighing. “It’s only a problem because you make it one, Anita.”