Other voices asked the reporter, Whos Ripley?
Jason leaned over my shoulders to say, loud enough for other mics to pick it up, Ripley is the name I strip under at Jean-Claudes club in St. Louis, Guilty Pleasures.
A shiver went through the collected press, almost as if they were one beast with a single skin that had just been touched by a giant hand.
The press let the woman who seemed to know who we were come to the forefront; she had better questions. Anita, you are Jean-Claudes girlfriend, right?
Yeah, I said, again, not really happy that all my own accomplishments had been boiled down to being someonesanyonesgirlfriend.
Then what are you doing here with Ripley, I mean Jason?
Jason told you that his father is gravely ill, thats true. Hes coming home to say good-bye, and Im with him for moral support.
Oh, my God, she said, youve come home to meet his family. Youve left Jean-Claude for one of his strippers.
Holy shit. No, I said, I mean, its not what you think, its
But it was too late. Another kind of feeding frenzy had begun. It was simply out of our control, like some force of nature.
The reporters started yelling answers to each others questions, as if they were questions for us, but the answers they were giving were actually drowning out ours. It was one of the most bizarre experiences. It was a hurricane of rumors, and there was no stopping it.
Chuck appeared with the plainclothes guards, and I was happy to see all of them, even Chuck. They got us out of the press, down the driveway, and inside the hotel. I couldnt even argue. The taxi wasnt going anywhere.
14
W E ENDED UP in a spacious room just off the main lobby that was filled with chairs and had a podium. I think this was the place where the tamer press events happened.
There was a woman in one of the chairs. She wasnt that tall, but she managed to be leggy in spike heels and a killer designer suit. Her auburn hair was in a tight bun that left her perfect makeup and overly dramatic eyes suitably noticeable.
No more talking to the press unless you clear it through me, she said.
I am not one of the Summerlands, Jason said, and he sounded tired. I didnt blame him.
He fell on his sword out there for us, Dubois, one of the other suits said. This one was older, his gray suit only a little darker than his hair. His face was lined, but it was a good face. If hed dyed the hair he wouldnt have looked his age. A different suit would have helped, too. Gray wasnt his color.
She gave one abrupt nod. He did give them something else to chew on, Ill grant that. But the little kiss in the alley was childish.
I know that, Jason said, but Chuck here had bossed me around, and Im not Keith. I dont need the babysitting.
After that kiss and the impromptu press conference, the hell you dont, she said.
Are all press agents this pleasant? I asked.
She gave me an angry look. And youpointing a long painted nail at meare not helping.
Im a federal marshal and a vampire executioner. I also raise the dead for a living. But all the press cared about was my boyfriends. But I didnt argue with the reporters. I let them ask sex questions and didnt get mad on camera. I think I behaved myself admirably.
Jason hugged me one-armed. You really did control your temper. Im very proud of you.
I gave him a look that made Ms. Duboiss look seem tame. He winced, but he didnt mean it.
Frankly, I said, I was too surprised to know what to do. Ive done some press with Jean-Claude, but nothing like this.
Dubois seemed to have gotten over her snit, because she offered me her hand. Me, not Jason. It earned her a brownie point or two. Im Phyllis Dubois, press secretary on site for the wedding week.
I took her hand. She had a good firm shake for a woman, but then so did I. Im Anita Blake, and I guess all I am today is Jasons girlfriend.
Jean-Claude is that sexy master vampire of St. Louis, right? she said.
I nodded.
Did you leave him for Jason?
I gave her an unfriendly look. Dont you start.
She smiled and it made her face younger, more in tune with the nearly club makeup. Sorry, but if it were true it might help us deflect some of the heat from our boys.
Youd blow the story up even more so theyd feed on us, I said.
She shrugged narrow but elegant shoulders. My job.
How do I get to the hospital to see my dad? Jason asked.
Well put you in a limo, and if we have to well get you a police escort, Dubois said.
Why? Jason said, unusually suspicious for him.
I answered it, Because a limo with a police escort will draw off part of the press that is hanging around for the bachelorette party tonight.
You really do think Im going to throw you to the wolves, dont you?
Oh, I like wolves, I said, its the reporters that scare me.
Gray Suit said, I dont think theres any way to get you quietly to the hospital. In fact, we should send people ahead to warn the hospital so the reporters dont get into Mr. Schuylers room.
Good thinking, Peterson, as always. Call our liaison at the hospital.
Peterson, aka Gray Suit, took out a cell phone and went toward one side of the room. Apparently for some privacy for the call.
Another phone sounded. Dubois got a slim one out of her pocket and started talking into it.
Chuck said, Youre a federal marshal, for real?
For real, I said.
He looked me up and down, not like a man will, but like he was sizing me up for other things. Things that had nothing to do with sex.
Youve got a gun at the small of your back. Its lying sideways, not up and down, so its almost invisible.
I nodded. And you missed it completely when we first met.
My bad, he said.
Sloppy, I said.
It wont happen again.
What wont happen again?
Me thinking youre just agirlfriend.
You always hesitate before you say girlfriend, Chuck; what do you actually start to say?
You wont like it.
Im betting I already know the phrase thats on the tip of your tongue, Chuck.
Jason was watching us, the way he did sometimes when people were doing something that interested him or puzzled him. Hed watch, file it away, and talk to me about it later. Sometimes much later.
Chuck glanced around, and when he realized that both Dubois and Peterson werent in earshot, he said low, Piece of ass, I wont make the mistake of thinking youre just a piece of ass.
I nodded. Yeah, thats what I thought you were thinking.
15
W E ARRIVED AT the hospital in a style that even Jean-Claude couldnt have managed. The city wouldnt have given him a police escort unless he was being arrested. But we got one to St. Josephs Hospital, with its nearly brand-new trauma unit. The trauma unit was in the Summerland wing of the hospital. I smelled an amazingly large donation.
It took us awhile to get past the upper brass of the hospital, who had spilled out to the sound of sirens and the limo. Hell, we had some of the suits with us. Peterson was in charge instead of Chuck, which was a step up, but it was still an understandable mistake on the hospital administrations part. If someone had given me enough money to put a wing on my hospital Id be nice to them, too.
In the lobby, while we were trying to explain that Jason was neither of the Summerland twins, I saw a portrait. It was an old-fashioned painting of a man in a black cloth suit, white shirt, stiff collar, and dark yellow mustache. But underneath the strange clothes and facial hair, it was Jasons face.
I actually walked toward the portrait without meaning to. Jasons blue eyes stared down at me from this stern-faced stranger.
Jason came to stand beside me. I looked from him to the painting. Creepy, isnt it? he said.
It could be you in a few years, if you did the mustache.
Meet Jedediah Summerland. He was the head of the religious community that came her
e to get away from the worldly temptations. He was a very self-righteous guy, but strangely a lot of families that trace their ancestors back to when he was alive have a lot of kids that look eerily like him.
A lot of cult leaders seem to have a weakness for women, I said.
He nodded, then smiled, though it left his eyes empty. Jedediah was actually killed by vampires. Apparently he tried to convert them to the Lord, and they didnt like it. Frankly, I think he tried to seduce the wrong undead lady and paid the price.
He turned to me, not with a smile, but with something in his eyes that I couldnt quite read.
What? I asked.
I guess getting hooked up with vampires runs in the family. He turned away, keeping his face to himself so that whatever he was thinking, I couldnt see it.
I looked at the face on the wall. It was Jasons face, but if the artist had captured Jedediah correctly, then there was no humor in the eyes, no smile always tugging at the corner of that mouth. Same face, but a very different person.
Peterson came up beside us. He gazed up at the portrait, too. The family resemblance is almost disturbing, if you dont mind my saying so.
I dont mind, Jason said.
Ive cleared the way for you to see your father, Mr. Schuyler. Ill accompany you up with a second man. The hospital staff have already caught two reporters trying to sneak upstairs. Ive asked them to treat your fathers privacy as they would the governors. I think that should keep the press away.
Thank you, Jason said. He was still looking at the painting when he said it. He turned and gave Peterson a grin. It filled his eyes with laughter, and changed the face toJasons face.
Peterson looked almost startled, then smiled back. Jason had that effect on people.
Jason reached for my hand, and I helped him find it. The smile faded around the edges, and his eyes looked almost as stern as the ones in the portrait. Lets get this over with.
We went for the elevator, but there was already a suit holding the door, and the admin for the hospital. Apparently, she was going to ride up with us. The rich and powerful really are different, or at least theyre treated better.
Jasons hand was a little warm to the touch, not sweat, just nerves. He was a lycanthrope, which meant that nerves could bring on the change. He had control, really good control, but his body temperature was rising with his anxiety. That wasnt good.
For the first time I wondered what would happen if Jason shifted in front of his family. Surely they knew he was a werewolf. Didnt they?
The media would know once they checked the website for Guilty Pleasures. It listed not just the usual stats for strippers but if they were vampires, or wereanimals, and what animal you could watch them shift into. If the media stayed interested enough in the story, theyd out him.
The nice admin was talking to Jason, who was making small noises at her and not hearing a thing. I actually looked across him to her and said, Its very nice of you to help his father like this.
Any friend of the governors is a very special guest of ours, she said, smiling.
Jason said in a voice bitter enough to hurt, My father isnt a friend of the governors.
The woman looked at me, then at Peterson. I thought
The governor felt that since Mr. Schuylers resemblance to his own sons was the problem with the media, the least we could do was make certain his fathers last days werent hounded by the press.
The resemblance is uncanny, she said. Even standing this close to you Id swear you were one of the governors sons.
Jedediah was a busy boy, Jason said, softly.
Excuse me? she said.
Jason shook his head. Nothing.
I tried small talk, never my best thing. How long could the elevator ride be? Jason didnt know the twins would be in town, so the press caught us off guard. With the wedding and everything, it got wild. I dont envy the real Summerlands if this is typical for the way theyre treated by the press.
Its gotten worse since the presidential bid, the other, younger suit said.
Peterson gave him a look. The look said clearly, Dont talk. The younger suit stopped talking and did his best to both stand very straight and ready and vanish into the corner. Not easy to do at the same time, but he tried.
Of course, of course, the admin said.
The doors opened, and we got to step out into a hospital corridor. No matter how nice the hospital, it is still a hospital. Theyd chosen nice paint, a color that was actually cheerful, but the smells hit youthat antiseptic smell they use to try to hide the smell of sickness, the smell of death. The only corridors that dont smell like this are maternity wards. Its almost as if death truly has a smell, and so does life. You cant fool the difference with cleaning solution. The nose knows, and so does the part of the brain that doesnt understand elevators and presidential bids. That part of the brain thats been hopping around with us humans since we werent sure walking upright wasnt just another fad.
Jason stopped dead in the hallway. His hand clenched around mine. I realized if I could smell that, it would be a hundred times stronger to his nose. Even in human form the wereanimals could smell things humans couldnt.
The admin stopped and turned. Your fathers room is just down this way. She actually motioned as if she were directing us to anywhere. I guess she worked here every day. Maybe you dont smell it after awhile, or feel it.
Jason squeezed my hand again, gave me a watered-down version of his smile, and nodded. We moved, we followed, we went where she pointed. Jasons hand was hot against my skin.
16
A WOMAN APPEARED in the corridor just ahead of the admin. The woman wore a soft pink suit and had short blond hair. She was about our height. She turned toward us, and the moment I saw her face I knew she had to be Jasons mom. The same eyes and hair; the face was different, thinner; a little more pointed chin, but the eyes were like looking into Jasons eyes. But just like the painting downstairs had filled those eyes with disapproval, her eyes were filled with worry.
She saw Jason, and her face lightened for a moment. Her eyes flicked to me, there was a moment of doubt in her face, and then she came toward us smiling, arms out, but her eyes never quite lost the thought, the clear thought, Is this a good idea? I hoped his mother never played poker, because she would have sucked at it.
He let go of my hand long enough to hug her. She wrapped her arms around him, her hand patting the back of his hair as she broke away from him. She tugged at his suit, putting it back in place as if shed mussed him.
You look good, she said.
Jason nodded, and reached back for me. I came to his hand. This is Anita Blake. Anita, this is my mom, Iris.
I shook Iris Schuylers hand. It was about the same size as mine. Her handshake was a bare touch, then away, as if she didnt shake hands much.
Im being silly, she said, and she hugged me. I fought not to be stiff in the embrace. I dont like being touched by strangers. I also wondered if shed find the gun, but luckily she hugged like she shook hands: barely. It was a nice awkward hug on both sides. I did my best, and found the suit loose on her frame, as if shed lost a lot of weight recently.
Its nice to meet you, Mrs. Schuyler, I said, as I got to go back to Jason. Unlike his mom, I could lie with the best of them.
Iris, please, call me Iris.
Then you have to call me Anita, I said.
Anita, she said, and she touched me again, on the arm.
I managed to keep my smile, but it was a little strained. God, was his family one of those touchy families? Richards family was like that. Id made peace with the fact that Richards mother would hug me, and touch me, but I never liked it. The men behaved better because of the whole sexual taboo thing. But Richards mother and his sister were both touchers. Eeeh.
Jason put his arm around my waist and drew me tight in against him. Either hed picked up my discomfort or his own had gotten worse. Either way, I was okay with it. Jason had permission to touch me.
Jasons mother took his free hand and led us
toward the room shed come out of. I didnt like her leading him by the hand like a child. But I let it go; one, I wasnt really his girlfriend-girlfriend, and two, her husband was dying, so maybe shed earned the right to hold her sons hand.
A woman whose hair was almost as black as my own came out of the room. She was tall and broad-shouldered, but still gave the impression of delicacy of bone. She wore jeans and a T-shirt with some sort of slogan on it. She saw us and gave a glad cry of Jason!
The next thing I knew, she and Jason were hugging. She damn near smothered him in a nice chest. The height difference was considerable, with her on the tall end.
Jason drew back enough to say, Anita, this is my sister Julia.
Sister? No one in my family hugged their brother like that. Then I got a Julia hug, and realized it wasnt the least bit sexual. She was just one of those enthusiastic huggers. I was the same height as Jason, so I had more proof than I wanted that she was about as well-endowed as I was. Dear God, even Richards family wasnt this touchy-feely.
Jason laughed and rescued me. Let her breathe, sis.
Julia backed off, but kept an arm around my shoulders. Its just so good to see you, little brother. And I dont think youd have brought a girl home if it wasnt serious. She hugged me again, a little less furiously, but still I was really wondering how to get away from her.
Her shirt said Browning and Schuyler Gardening Center with a few plants done in line art. The shirt was a shade of yellow that most people couldnt have worn, but it looked fine with her coloring, and great with her summer tan. It looked like shed tan almost as dark as Richards family, and they had American Indian in their background.
I wondered if Julia was a half-sister.
You run the gardening center? I asked, hoping to distract her from the hugging.
Me and my hubby, Brian. Hes minding the store so I could come visit Dad. The sunshine faded a little from her big brown eyes. It was like watching a flower sag from lack of water; you just knew if some good news came soon shed perk back up.
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