Sucker Punch

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  Newman came up beside me with his gun pointed at the floor. “What did you do to her?”

  “I’m not sure,” I whispered because it was true.

  “Can you undo it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “We have to do something, Blake.”

  Newman was right. I drew my own cross out from under my T-shirt, and I prayed again. “God, please help me free her from whatever I’ve done to her.” My cross started to glow—not the hot white glow that happened when a vampire was trying to eat my face, but a soft blue-white glow. Sam’s cross started to glow with mine. We were both true believers.

  I prayed out loud. “Please, God, help me undo whatever I did to her.”

  Phoenix stopped trying to drag the bat out of Barry’s hands. She went very still, arms going to her sides. I knew without seeing her face that her eyes would be empty, face slack. I’d seen it on other vampire victims. God, I hated that I had done that to her.

  The crosses started to glow brighter, but it was blue light, and it didn’t hurt to look at it the way white heat could. I’d been in fights with vampires where my own cross had blinded them and me with its light. This was different, gentler. It felt peaceful, the way praying can when you get that soft touch, as if you can feel God listening.

  Phoenix started to fall. Barry dropped the bat, and it clattered on the floor as he caught her. She blinked in his arms, looking around the room as if she’d just woken up. Her dark makeup was smeared over her face almost like bruises, but she wouldn’t remember how that had happened. I wondered what the last thing she did remember was.

  The glow of the two crosses started to fade, and I got that sense of peace that I sometimes get when a prayer gets answered. Sam had tears on his face trailing past an almost beatific smile. I knew then that he felt it, too.

  “What’s happening?” Phoenix asked. “Did they spike my drink?” So she remembered we’d bought her a drink. Good. She hadn’t lost too much time.

  “No, Phoenix,” Barry said, “they didn’t spike your drink.” He was staring at me as if he didn’t know what to make of me. That made two of us.

  “Come on, Blake, let’s get out of here,” Newman said. He had holstered his gun.

  I grabbed my fries off the table as I went toward the door. I wanted to make sure that I had enough food in me until I went home and had real vampires around me to help me control this shit, or at least had Nicky with me or someone who was already on my approved menu for metaphysical munchies.

  62

  MY PHONE RANG just as Newman hustled us through the door and out into the sunlight. Somehow, I knew it was Nicky before I answered it. I don’t think it was metaphysics or at least not the vampire kind—more the couple kind.

  “Anita, what just happened?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “If by okay you mean whatever was happening stopped, then yeah, but what caused the ardeur to rise like that?”

  “I don’t know.” I ate another French fry while I waited for him to respond.

  Newman said, “Who is it?”

  “It’s Nicky,” I said.

  “Is Newman with you?” Nicky asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I can feel that you’re still hungry, Anita.”

  I swallowed and said, “I’m eating solid food as we speak.”

  “Did you almost feed on Newman? Is that why you were able to stop?”

  I looked at Newman and almost choked on the French fry. “No, that’s not what happened.”

  Newman leaned down and whispered, as if there was anyone in the nearly empty parking lot to hear us, “Can Nicky help you with whatever just happened in the club?”

  “If you tell me exactly what happened, maybe,” Nicky said over the phone, because of course he’d heard.

  “Maybe,” I said.

  “Then talk to him while we wait for Giselle to get here,” Newman said. “We still have to question her.”

  I nodded at Newman and walked across the parking lot to get a little privacy for the talk. Newman didn’t need to know any more of my metaphysical secrets than he’d just learned inside the club. Of course, since I wasn’t sure exactly what had just happened, secrets might not have been the right word. I told Nicky everything as I walked. I was hoping for some insight before we had to question the next witness.

  “I’m putting you on speaker so Ethan can hear,” Nicky said, and then I heard the change in the sound on his end. I could also hear other things a lot more clearly.

  “Are you in a car?” I asked.

  “We’re headed your way.”

  “You heard the sheriff, Nicky. None of you can be involved in the investigation.”

  “I know. We’re just supposed to help keep Bobby from shifting. Angel is babysitting him.”

  “Who’s with her?”

  My gut tightened at the thought of her being there without Nicky when Olaf came back. I didn’t actually believe he’d kidnap her for nefarious purposes in front of the local cops, but there was part of me that was scared for the other women. Part of it was knowing Olaf, and part of it was that Angel and Pierette were making themselves bait to take the heat off me. I didn’t want them to get hurt protecting me.

  “Everyone but Ethan and me. She’s covered, and so is Pierette.”

  I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

  Ethan’s voice: “You really are that frightened for both of them?”

  “I guess I am.”

  “They’re covered,” Nicky said.

  “We need to worry about you right now,” Ethan said.

  “I’m okay now,” I said.

  “We’ll meet you at the strip club,” Nicky said.

  “How do you know which one we’re at?”

  “You know we have an app that connects our phones’ GPS, right?” he said.

  “Oh, yeah, I keep forgetting that.”

  “And Bobby knew what club Jocelyn liked to go to,” Ethan said.

  “She’d come back and tell him about all the hot girl-on-girl action she got, and then when they were both turned on, they’d fuck,” Nicky said.

  “That isn’t how Bobby told the story,” Ethan said.

  “It’s what he meant,” Nicky said.

  “Guys, why are you headed my way?” I asked.

  “We’ve got some protein bars and sports drinks for you to keep with you so you won’t miss any more meals,” Ethan said.

  “I just ate lunch.”

  “That would have been dinner, Anita,” Nicky said.

  “Did you guys have lunch?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Look, I’m sorry I was too busy crime busting to eat.”

  “Anita, it’s not just the ardeur rising early. You risk the lives of everyone that is tied to you metaphysically. You start by draining Nathaniel and Damian. I’m not close enough to Damian to really care, but Nathaniel is like my brother. I know how much you love him, because I can feel it. I didn’t know anyone could love as much as you love him, so how can you keep risking his life like this?”

  I couldn’t even argue with Nicky, and God, I wanted to, but . . . “Jean-Claude and Micah both promised to contact me if I started to drain anybody. Besides, Nathaniel is getting better at managing the energy among the three of us.”

  “You’re just making excuses, Anita.” Nicky sounded genuinely angry. He never got mad at me.

  “You’re my Bride, Nicky. I thought it caused you pain if I was unhappy.”

  “Sometimes it does, but if Nathaniel dies because you were careless, you’d never forgive yourself, and neither would I. Neither would Micah or Sin or Dev or—”

  “I get it, Nicky.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yeah, I do.” I was angry now, which was better than feeling guilty.


  “Good. Then you’ll let us shadow you while you keep crime busting.”

  “No, you heard Leduc. None of you can be part of the investigation.”

  “We’ll stay out of the way, but you need us with you, Anita.”

  “What do you mean, shadowing me?”

  “We’ll follow you in our car. We’ll be nearby in case you lose control again.”

  “Leduc can’t see you following us. He’ll lose his shit, and he has enough clout around here to kick the Coalition out of the area. Hell, he’s got so many friends in the good-ol’-boy network, he might be able to keep the Coalition out of most of Michigan.”

  “Anita, you almost fed the ardeur on a woman you’d just met. What if you’d lost control in the strip club?” Ethan said.

  I paced around the empty parking spaces at the edge of the lot. My pulse was too fast; the anger had gone onto the edge of fear. “I handled it,” I said finally.

  “Anita, do you really want to risk the ardeur rising when you’re surrounded by cops without any of us nearby?” Nicky asked.

  “No, of course I don’t. That would be a nightmare, and you know it.”

  “So we’ll shadow you, just in case.”

  A compact car turned into the parking lot; there was a dark-haired woman driving it.

  “I think the dancer we need to talk to just drove up.”

  “We’ll park and wait for you to let us know you’re done talking police business,” Nicky said.

  “You’d be even less happy if you lost control of the ardeur and fed on Newman or Deputy Rico or one of the state cops,” Ethan said.

  “You’ve made your point,” I said.

  “Will you let us follow you?” Ethan asked.

  “I’ll take the snacks for later,” I said.

  “If you won’t let us shadow you, then feed the ardeur off of one of us before you meet back up with Leduc,” Nicky said.

  “Absolutely not,” I said.

  “It would make the ardeur safe for at least four hours guaranteed.”

  “I cannot do quickies in the parking lot while I’m out with other cops.”

  “Newman is the only one with you, right?” Nicky asked.

  “Yes, but—”

  “He saw what happened in the strip club, Anita. I think he’ll be okay with it.”

  “He won’t be okay with me grabbing a quickie in the parking lot while we’re fighting the clock for Bobby Marchand’s life.”

  “Then we follow you,” Nicky said as if the matter was settled.

  “I haven’t agreed to that, but the dancer that was with Jocelyn is here. Got to go question her.”

  “Try not to touch this one as much,” Ethan said.

  “You’re afraid I’ll lose control again?” I said.

  “Aren’t you?”

  I didn’t know what to say because I was worried. I didn’t understand why the ardeur had risen in the club. I didn’t know how I’d captured the dancer with my gaze like I was a real vampire and not one who fed off of energy, sexual or otherwise.

  “Yeah, I’m worried, but I still have to go question the dancer. She’s wearing street clothes and no makeup. She won’t be sitting in my lap like the last one.”

  “You let a strange stripper sit in your lap? Wow, you are off your game,” Ethan said with an incredulous tone in his voice.

  Nicky would have sounded angrier, and he would have pissed me off. Ethan’s amazement scared me a little.

  I waved to get Newman’s attention and pointed at the woman, who was still sitting in her car. He nodded and started walking toward the car.

  “I won’t let this one sit on my lap. Promise. But I’ve got to go help Newman question her.” I started walking toward the car so I’d meet him partway.

  “Feed on one of us when we get there,” Nicky said.

  “I have to question a witness, not take a booty call.”

  “Feed on one of us when you’re done questioning the witness.”

  “I am not going to make Newman twiddle his thumbs while I have sex in the parking lot.”

  “I’ll ask Newman if he’s okay with it.”

  “Nicky, no, and if I tell you not to do it, you won’t be able to.”

  “That’s true.”

  “I’ll ask Newman,” Ethan said.

  “Ethan!”

  “I’ll be embarrassed to ask him, but if you forbid Nicky to do it, then I’ll do it.”

  “I can’t—”

  “If Newman is weirded out, we’ll try to shadow you,” Nicky said.

  “You’ll really ask Newman if he’s okay with me screwing one of you in the parking lot?”

  “If there’s a motel nearby, would that make it better?” Nicky asked.

  “Yes, I guess, but that takes more time, and Bobby is running out of that.”

  “Then we’re back to a quickie,” Nicky said.

  “No.”

  “Then eat more regularly in the next four hours, and we’ll follow you,” he said.

  “I said I’d take the snacks.”

  “Quickie or we play escort for the rest of this trip, Anita.”

  “I have to go do my job now.” I was angry and let it show in my voice.

  “We’ll be there as soon as we can,” Ethan said.

  “I haven’t agreed to any of this.”

  “We know,” Nicky said.

  I hung up on him. No I love you, nothing, because I was pissed. I was angry at Nicky for forcing me to think so far outside my comfort zone. I was angry with Ethan for helping him. I was pissed that my metaphysics had gotten out of control, especially in the middle of a police investigation. I hated all my choices, but the thought I hated most was losing control of the ardeur, because feeding on Newman, or one of the other cops, was the worst choice of all.

  63

  THE WOMAN GOT out of the car, and I asked, “Giselle, right?”

  The woman nodded. Newman stared at her, frowned, then looked at me. I knew the expression by now. It meant he believed me, but only because I said so. Strippers in street clothes with no makeup on don’t look much like their stage personas. You have to pay attention to the bone structure. That’s about the only thing that doesn’t change and can’t be faked by normal makeup.

  I suggested we talk out in the parking lot in the sunshine, and Newman played along to open her car door and get her outside. I was pretty sure that if Barry saw us with her, he’d raise the alarm or even call the cops. After what had just happened, I couldn’t really blame him, but we still had a murder to solve and another murder to prevent. It’s all about priorities even if you’ve just had a major metaphysical oops.

  Newman helped me walk her toward the Jeep. I started eating the now cold French fries not because they were good, but because they were food, and I didn’t want Giselle or any other strangers to be on the menu. We asked her to get inside the Jeep to talk.

  “I’m not under arrest, am I?” she said.

  When we said no, she wouldn’t get in with us. Her choice. So we leaned against Newman’s vehicle.

  Giselle’s face was pale in sunlight. She blinked wide brown eyes almost owlishly. Her eyebrows arched dark and perfect, which made the rest of her naked face look even paler and more unfinished without some extra color. She put her hand above her eyes to shield them from the light. “Couldn’t find my sunglasses this morning,” she explained as if we’d asked.

  I thought about offering mine, but I didn’t know if my eyes had stopped glowing. We didn’t want to spook her. Newman wasn’t wearing his, but he didn’t offer them to her. Maybe it was that awkward moment of asking for them back that he wanted to avoid.

  Giselle, in her jeans, Nikes made for fashion not exercise, and a T-shirt tied in a side knot at her waist, squinted up at Newman. She also wore a checked flannel shirt that looked
big enough to belong to one of the men in her life. It could have been a boyfriend or even her father. Not all strippers live wild lives offstage. She looked like a college student named Becky or Jennifer who had rolled out of bed and thrown clothes on to make an early-morning class. There was almost no trace of the exotic Giselle from the promotional photos on the strip club’s website, but then, how many performers actually look like their head shots?

  Even after we’d both introduced ourselves as marshals, Giselle still kept her attention on Newman, as if I didn’t count as much. She wasn’t the first person to discount the woman in the group of badges, but it answered one question for me: She preferred men to women offstage. If she’d been more bisexual except as part of her act, she would have looked at me more. She played it like the college-age woman she appeared to be: Newman was the cute guy, and I was something to be ignored like an obstacle to his attention or maybe less. Welcome to girl world, where there are no friends and all that matters are who’s more attractive and who gets the man. I was glad for the umpteen-millionth time that I hadn’t been indoctrinated into typical girl culture.

  “I felt so bad for Jocelyn when I realized she was here, maybe even onstage with me, when her father was killed.” Giselle gave a little shiver and hugged herself through the flannel. I debated whether her reaction was real or acting, and decided it was real. I didn’t think she had the acting chops to fake her skin going even paler in the light.

  “It’s a terrible thing,” Newman agreed.

  Giselle shivered again. “It was such a good night, and then to go home to . . .” She looked up at Newman. “Is it true that she found the body?” Her voice lowered on the last part as if she was afraid to say the words too loudly.

  “It was a shock for her, as you can imagine,” Newman said.

  Giselle nodded and hugged herself again.

  “Did you have to clear it with Barry that you were going to take a customer or customers up onstage with you?” I asked.

  She rolled her eyes, her pretty face looking sour and unhappy. “I cleared it with him.”

  “Why did you have to clear it with Barry?” Newman asked.

  I answered, “Customers can get more unruly when you drag other women onstage.”