Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Collection 6-10

by Laurell Hamilton

  I let the truth spill out of my mouth without concentrating on the fact that I planned to stop before I’d told all of it. I mean Nicky Baco was a necromancer, and if necromancy was involved in the killings . . . So only part of the truth until I knew whether he was a bad guy. “I’ve got a little problem that involves the dead. I wanted a second opinion.”

  She laughed then, a harsh sound like the caw of a crow. I jumped, and I swear I could feel the werewolves behind me flinch. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have said they were just a little afraid of this small woman. I know I was.

  “Nicky’ll love that. The famous Anita Blake coming to consult him. Oh, he will just fucking love this.” She motioned with her head. “Who’s he?”

  “This is Bernardo, he’s . . . a friend.”

  Her eyes hardened. “How good a friend?”

  “Close, very close,” I said.

  She leaned across the bar, putting her face next to mine, her hand still under the bar on the shotgun. “I should kill you. I can feel it. You’ll hurt Nicky.” I looked into her eyes from inches away. I expected to see anger or even hatred, but there was nothing. It was the very emptiness that clued me in. If she pulled the trigger on me, it wouldn’t be the first time.

  My pulse was suddenly thudding in my throat. Blown away by a psychotic dwarf bartender, how ironic. I kept my voice low and even the way you talk to jumpers on ledges, and people with guns pointed at you. “I don’t plan to hurt Nicky. I honestly just want to consult with him, one necromancer to another.”

  She just kept looking at me, not even blinking. She raised up slowly. “If you move, I’ll kill you. If he moves, I’ll kill you.” The way she said it promised that whatever was about to happen, was something we weren’t going to like.

  She turned her gaze to Bernardo and leaned down so that her head was sideways looking at him, her ear almost pressed to the bar. “Did you hear me, boyfriend?”

  “I heard you,” he said, and his voice was low and calm, too. He’d seen it, too. She wanted an excuse to kill me. I’d never met her before, so it couldn’t be personal. But personal or not, I’d be just as dead.

  “We don’t let outsiders bring guns into our house.”

  “No disrespect intended,” I said. “I always go armed. Nothing personal.”

  She leaned back down next to Bernardo’s face. “How ’bout you? You always go armed?”

  “Yes,” he said. He frowned, then went back to staring at the bar. My hands felt like they were becoming permanently glued to the wood.

  “Not in here you don’t,” she said.

  It was the big man in front who searched us. Somehow I’d known it would be. His power beat against my back like a nearly solid wall of power. Shit. He patted me down like he’d done it before. He found the knives at my wrist and back, as well as the guns. He also found the cell phone but placed it on the bar in front of me instead of taking it.

  You could see the effort it took for Bernardo to let the man touch him, pat him down, take his gun. He also took a knife out of one of Bernardo’s boots. Anything was an improvement over the last crime scene, but the day really wasn’t going well.

  “Can we stand up now?” I asked.

  “Not yet,” she said.

  Bernardo gave me a look that said plainly if he died, he was coming back to haunt me because it was all my fault.

  I kept my voice calm, tried to make sense. “You know I’m Anita Blake. You know why I’m here. What else do you want?”

  “Harpo, check the man’s wallet. Find out who he is,” she said.

  Harpo? The big man, the vibrating mountain of mystical energy was named Harpo. I said none of this out loud. I really am getting smarter.

  Harpo took out Bernardo’s wallet. He’d stuffed Bernardo’s ten mil down the side of his pants and my Browning on the other side. I didn’t see the Firestar or the knives. Maybe he’d stuffed them in his pockets. “The driver’s license says, Bernardo Spotted-Horse, but there ain’t no credit cards, no pictures, no nothing.”

  The woman’s eyes had gone back to pitiless. “You say he’s a close friend?”

  “Yes,” I said. I was beginning to get scared again.

  “He your lover?” she asked.

  If she hadn’t had a shotgun pointed at me, I’d have told her to go to hell, but she did, so I answered. “Yeah.” I was trusting that Ramirez knew what he was talking about, that I needed to belong to a man. I hoped the lie was the right answer.

  “Prove it,” she said.

  I raised eyebrows at her. “Excuse me?”

  “Excuse me,” she mimicked, and that brought low rumbling laughter from the rest of the room.

  “Is he circumcised?” she asked.

  I hesitated. I couldn’t help it. The question caught me too far off guard. I swallowed, and said, “Yes.” I had a fifty-fifty chance, and being American and under forty I had a better than even chance.

  She smiled, but it left her eyes like empty glass. “You can stand up now.”

  I fought the urge to wipe my hands on my pants. Didn’t want to insult her cleanliness, but I also wanted desperately to wash my hands. I moved closer to Bernardo, as if I wanted a hug. I even put my left arm around his waist, though I wondered if I was getting his nice white shirt dirty. His arm slid over my shoulders, but I’d really just wanted out of the line of fire of the damned shotgun. I was betting it was on a stationary mount and not a swiveling one. I hoped I was right.

  Her hands were back in plain sight. A good sign. “Drop your pants, Bernardo,” she said.

  I felt him tense beside me. We both looked at her. I started to say excuse me again, but Bernardo said, “Why?”

  I’d have asked her to repeat it, just to make sure I’d understood her. He just asked why, as if this had happened to him before.

  “So we can see if you’re circumcised.”

  I moved my hand out from behind Bernardo’s back, standing close together but not entangled in each other’s arms. We might be in for a fight after all. “I said he was. Isn’t that enough?”

  “No. You see, you’re right. You do work with the cops a lot. You alone might have been okay to see Nicky, but him, we don’t know anything about him. If he’s your lover, then fine, but if he’s not, then maybe he’s a cop.”

  Bernardo laughed, and the sound startled all of us, I think. “Now that is a new one. Me being mistaken for a cop.”

  “What are you, if you’re not a cop?” she asked.

  “Sometimes I’m a bodyguard. Sometimes I’m someone you need to guard the body against. Depends on who’s paying better.” His voice sounded very sure of itself, very matter of fact.

  “Maybe you are, and maybe you’re not. Drop the pants, and we’ll see.”

  He started unbuckling his belt. I moved away from him, though not too far. Didn’t want to get back in front of the shotgun again.

  “What’s wrong? You’ve seen him without his pants before,” she said. I was beginning to think she didn’t believe me.

  “Not in a crowd, I haven’t,” I said. I let the righteous indignation blaze in my voice. It got more laughter from the crowd.

  The women were starting to chant, “Take it off, take it all off,” and worse. The girl that had been hanging on Harpo was just behind him, watching the show with glittering excited eyes.

  Bernardo didn’t complain or blush. He just undid his pants and pushed them to about mid thigh, and stood there. My look away was automatic. The women screamed and whistled. One voice yelled, “Big daddy, yes!” The men joined in. The men were congratulating him and speculating on how we did it without hurting me.

  I had to look. I just couldn’t help myself. I had to know if I’d guessed right, and frankly I just had to look. Embarrassing but true. It took me a few seconds to register that he was circumcised because what I saw first was sheer size. He was well, well endowed.

  I was blushing, and I couldn’t help that. But I knew if I just stood there and gaped that the lies would all be for not
hing. I tried to act as if it were Richard or Jean-Claude standing there. What would I have done? I’d have covered them up.

  I moved to stand in front of him, though was careful not to touch. I admit though that I couldn’t seem to look anywhere else. Richard was impressive. Bernardo had passed impressive and gone over to scary. I shielded him from view with my body, putting my hands on either side of his waist to steady myself. I was blushing so hard, I was dizzy.

  I looked at her, still shielding him from the room. “Good enough?” I asked. Even my voice sounded strangled with discomfort.

  “Give him a kiss,” she said.

  I looked at her. “Let him put his pants up and I will.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t say kiss his lips.”

  If I blushed any harder, my head was going to explode. I turned around so I couldn’t see him anymore. “We are so not doing this.”

  “I think you’ll do anything we want,” she said.

  I don’t know what I would have said to that because a man’s voice sounded. “Enough games, Paulina. Give them back their weapons, and let them go.”

  We all turned. Coming from the dim back of the room was another dwarf, little person. He was maybe half a head taller than the bartender, Paulina, and he was more obviously Hispanic and younger. His hair was a rich black, his skin tanned and unlined. He looked twenty-something, but the aura of power that spread outward from him like an overwhelming perfume felt older.

  “I am Nicandro Baco, Nicky to my friends.” The crowd parted for him like a curtain being drawn back. He held his hand out to me, and I took it, but he didn’t shake hands. He raised my hand to his lips and kissed it. But he kept his eyes rolled up to see my face as he did it, and something about the way his eyes looked, his mouth on my skin, reminded me of much more intimate places for a man’s mouth to be. I took my hand back as soon as I could and still be polite.

  “Mr. Baco, thank you for seeing me.” It sounded so businesslike, as if Bernardo wasn’t standing behind us with his pants around his thighs.

  “Get dressed,” he said. He barely glanced at Bernardo. But I heard him pulling up his pants, struggling to get everything back in place, though frankly I was surprised his jeans could fit over everything.

  “Why are you here, Ms. Blake?”

  “I really did want to talk to another necromancer.”

  “It sounds like you’ve changed your mind,” he said. He watched me minutely, studying my face. When I moved a hand to touch my hair, his eyes tracked it.

  “The grandstanding has taken up all my time. I’ve got an appointment with the police that I can’t really miss.” I’d added the police part on purpose because I had a feeling that Baco had known exactly what was happening out here. They hadn’t really hurt us, just embarrassed us or me. He came in just in the nick of time. Yeah, right.

  “Like the two policemen that are waiting outside for you.”

  I felt the knowledge flinch across my face, not much of a reaction, but it was enough. “Do you blame us for backup?”

  “Are you saying you are afraid of us?” That brought a low rumble through the room, as if they had all drawn a breath together.

  “I would be a fool if I wasn’t,” I said.

  He cocked his head to one side in an almost bird-like movement. “And you are not a fool, are you, Anita?”

  “I try not to be.”

  He motioned to the woman still standing behind the bar. “Paulina does not like you. Do you know why?”

  It was my turn to shake my head. “Nope.”

  “She’s my wife.”

  I must have still looked blank. “Sorry, I don’t understand.”

  “She knows I have a weakness for women with power.”

  I frowned at him. “She doesn’t have to worry. I’m sort of taken.”

  He smiled. “No more lies, Anita. You and he are not lovers.” He took my hand again and gazed up at me with those black eyes. I realized for the first time that he considered himself a ladies’ man. And that his wife had reason to worry, not about me, but about other women. It was there in his eyes, the way he stroked my hand.

  I drew my hand away from him and moved back to stand with Bernardo. I actually reached out my hand, and he took it. Both our hands were sticky from the bar, but I clutched at him.

  Baco was half a body-length shorter than I was, but he made me nervous. Part of it was the push of his magic like a thick curtain filling the room. But part of it was the way any man can make you nervous. I didn’t like how blatant he was, with us unarmed. I glanced at Paulina, and her harsh face was stricken. Was it a game he played with her? Tormenting her? Who knew, but I wanted out of here.

  “I need to be somewhere before dark. If you don’t want to talk to me, fine. We’ll go.” I started moving backwards, using my body to push Bernardo behind me towards the door.

  “Without your weapons?” Baco made it a question, his voice lifting upward.

  Bernardo and I froze. We were close enough to the door that we could have made a rush for it, probably made it, but . . . “Our weapons would be nice,” I said.

  “All you had to do was ask,” Baco said.

  I said, “May we have our weapons back?”

  He nodded. “Harpo, give them back.”

  Harpo never questioned it, just gave us back the guns, the knives. Then he stepped back to join the rest of the silent watchers. The guns and wrist knives were easy to slide into place. The knife in its spine sheath was another matter. I had to use my left hand to feel for the sheath, then feel the blade’s tip at the mouth of the sheath. I’d gotten in the habit of closing my eyes so that all I concentrated on was touch. It actually took only a few seconds now to put it away. The real trick was not chopping off a hunk of my hair as the blade slid home.

  When I opened my eyes, Baco was looking at me. “So nice to see a woman who doesn’t rely exclusively on sight. Touch is such an important sense for intimate occasions.”

  Maybe being armed again made me brave, or maybe I was just tired of the tension level. “Men who turn everything into a sexual come-on are such bores.”

  Distaste, anger filled his face, turning his charming eyes to black mirrors, like the eyes of a doll. “Too good to fuck a dwarf?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not your height that’s the problem, Baco. Where I come from, you don’t do shit like this in front of your wife.”

  He laughed then, and it sparkled through his eyes, his face. “The sacrament of marriage? You’re offended for my wife’s sake? You are a funny girl.”

  “Yeah, me and Barbra Streisand.”

  The humor faded a little from his face. I don’t think he got the joke. Strangely, it was the young girl in her short-shorts who met my eyes. I think she got the joke. If she liked early Streisand movies, maybe she wasn’t a completely lost soul.

  Bernardo touched my shoulder, and I jumped. “We’re leaving now, Anita.”

  I nodded. “I’m with you.”

  “You never asked your questions,” Baco said.

  “Have you felt it?” I asked.

  His face was suddenly serious. “There is something new here. It is like us. It deals in death. I have felt it.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  “Between Santa Fe and Albuquerque, though it began closer to Santa Fe.”

  “It’s moving closer to Albuquerque, to you,” I said.

  For the first time he looked uncertain, not quite afraid, but not happy either. “It knows that I am here. I have felt that, too.” He stared up at me, and now there was no teasing in his eyes. “It knows that you are here, too, Anita. It knows you are here, too.”

  I nodded. “We might be able to help each other, Nicky. I’ve seen the bodies. I’ve seen what this thing does. Trust me, Nicky. You don’t want to go out that way.”

  “What do you propose?” he asked.

  “That we pool our resources and see if we can stop this thing before it gets here, to you. And that we stop playing games. No more te
asing. No more power plays.”

  “Just business between us?” he said.

  I nodded. “We don’t have time for anything else, Baco.”

  “Come back later tonight, and I will do what I can to help you. Though the police will not want you to share information with me. I am a very bad man, you know.”

  I smiled. “You’re a bad man, Nicky, but not a stupid one. You need me.”

  “As you need me, Anita,” he said.

  “Two necromancers are better than one,” I said.

  He nodded, face solemn. “Come back tonight when you are finished with your police business. I will be waiting.”

  “It may be late,” I said.

  “It is already later than you think, Anita. Pray, if you are the praying sort, that it is not too late.”

  “Anita?” Bernardo said.

  “We’re going.” I let Bernardo back us out the door, his hand on my shoulder guiding me backwards. I got to watch the room, trusting him to make sure nothing was coming up behind us through the door. The werewolves just watched us, not happy, but willing to take orders. Baco had to be their vargamor, their resident witch. I’d just never met a pack that feared its vargamor before.

  It was Paulina’s face that stayed with me. She was staring at Baco, and the hatred on her face was raw. I knew in that instant that once she had loved him, really loved him, because only true love could twist to such hatred. I’d looked into Paulina’s eyes across the barrel of a gun. I think Nicky Baco had more problems than just monsters in the desert. If I were him, I’d be sleeping with a gun.

  38

  WE ARRIVED AT THE hospital with the world wrapped in a heavy blue dusk. A twilight so solid it was like cloth, something you could wrap around your hands or wear like a dress. I’d called ahead using Ramirez’ cell phone. How do you prove that someone is really dead? I’d seen the “survivors.” They drew breath. I assumed they had a heartbeat or the doctors would have mentioned it. Their eyes looked at you and seemed to be aware. They reacted to pain. They were alive.

  But what if they weren’t? What if they were only vessels for a power that made Nicky Baco and I look like backstreet charlatans? There might have been a spell to prove it, but you couldn’t take the results of a spell to court and get permission to burn the bodies. And that was what I wanted.