"Drop the knife, Olaf," Edward said.
"Have her put up the gun, first." I met those hard brown eyes and saw a hatred there like what I'd seen earlier in Lieutenant Marks' face. They both hated me for being things that I could not change: one for an innate God-given talent, and the other because I was a woman. Funny, how one unreasoning hatred looks so much like another.
I kept the gun very steadily pointed at his chest. I'd let all the air go out of my body, and was waiting, waiting for Olaf to decide what we'd be doing tonight. Either we'd be fighting crime, or we'd be digging a grave, maybe two if he was good enough. I knew what my vote was, but I also knew that the final vote wasn't mine. It wasn't even Olaf's. It was his hatred's.
"You drop the knife, and Anita will put up the gun," Edward said.
"Or she will shoot me while I'm unarmed."
"She won't do that."
"She is afraid of me now," Olaf said.
"Maybe," Edward said, "but she's more afraid of me."
Olaf looked down at me, a glimmer of puzzlement rising up through the hatred and anger. "I am going to shove this blade inside her. She fears me."
"Tell him, Anita."
I hoped I knew what Edward wanted me to say. "I will shoot you twice in the chest. You may get a slice of me before you fall to the ground. If you're really good, you might even slit my throat, but you'll still be dead." I hoped he made up his mind soon because it was awkward holding a shooting stance while sitting on your butt. I was going to get a crick in my back if I didn't get to move soon. The fear was fading, leaving only a dull emptiness behind. I was tired, and the night was still young. Hours to go before I'd sleep. I was tired of Olaf. I had a feeling if I didn't shoot him tonight, I'd get another chance.
"Who are you more afraid of, Anita — Olaf or me?" Edward asked.
I kept my gaze on Olaf and said, "You, Edward."
"Tell him why."
It sounded like a teacher telling his student what to say, but from Edward I'd take it. "Because you would have never let me get the drop on you like this. You would have never let your emotions compromise your safety."
Olaf blinked at me. "You do not fear me?" He made it a question and seemed disappointed. There was something almost little-boyish about his disappointment.
"I'm not afraid of anything I can kill," I said.
"Edward can be killed," Olaf said.
"Yes, but can he be killed by anyone in this room? That's the question."
Olaf looked at me, puzzled now more than angry. He began to lower the blade, slowly.
Edward said, "Drop it," in a quiet voice.
Olaf dropped the blade to the floor. It hit with a ringing clang.
I got to my knees and then scuttled backwards along the edge of the table, lowering the gun as I moved. I got to my feet at the head of the table near Bernardo. I looked at him. "Move over around by Edward."
"I didn't do anything," he said.
"Just do it, Bernardo. I need a little space right now."
He opened his mouth as if to argue, but Edward cut him off. "Do it."
Bernardo did it.
When they were all at the other end of the room, I put the gun up.
Edward had an armful of cardboard box. It was overbrimming with files. He set it down on the tabletop.
"You didn't even have a gun," Olaf said.
"I didn't need one," Edward said.
Olaf pushed past Edward to the hallway beyond. I hoped he was going pack and leave, but doubted we'd get that lucky. I hadn't known Olaf for hour, and I already knew why he was no one's sweetie.
20
A MURDER ALWAYS BREEDS a lot of paper, but a serial murder, you can drown in the paperwork. Edward, Bernardo, and I were swimming upstream. We'd been at it for about an hour, and Olaf hadn't come back. Maybe he had decided to pack up and go home. Though I hadn't heard any doors or cars, but I wasn't sure how soundproof the house was. Edward didn't seem bothered by Olaf's absence, so I didn't give it much attention either. I had read one report through back to front. One to get an overview and see if anything jumped out at me. One thing did. There were slivers of obsidian in the cut up bodies. An obsidian blade, maybe. Though we were in the wrong part of the world for it, or were we?
"Did the Aztecs ever get up this far?" I asked.
Edward didn't treat it like a weird question. "Yes."
"So I'm not the first one to point out the obsidian clue might mean Aztec magic?"
"No," he said.
"Thanks for telling me that we're looking for some sort of Aztec monster."
"The locals cops talked to the leading expert in the area. Professor Dallas couldn't come up with any deity or folklore that would account for these murders or the mutilations."
"You sound like you're quoting. Is there a report around here somewhere?"
He looked out over the mound of papers. "Somewhere."
"Isn't there an Aztec deity that the priests skinned someone as an offering, or is that Mayan?"
He shrugged. "The good professor couldn't make a connection. That's why I didn't tell you. The police have been looking into the Aztec angle for weeks. Nothing. I brought you down here to think different thoughts, not follow old ones."
"I'd like to talk to the professor all the same. If that's okay with you." I made sure he got the sarcasm.
"Look at the reports first, try to find what we've missed, then I'll introduce you to Professor Dallas."
I looked at him, trying to read behind those baby blues and failing as usual. "When do I get to see the professor?"
"Tonight."
That raised my eyebrows. "Gee, that is quick, especially since you think I'm wasting our time."
"She spends most nights in a club near Albuquerque."
"She, being Professor Dallas," I said.
He nodded.
"What's so special about this club?"
"If your career was Aztec history and mythology, wouldn't you just love to interview a real live Aztec?"
"A live ancient Aztec in Albuquerque?" I didn't try and keep the surprise out of my voice. "How?"
"Well, maybe not live," he said.
"A vampire," I said.
He nodded again.
"Has this Aztec vamp got a name?"
"The Master of the City calls herself Itzpapalotl."
"Isn't that like an Aztec goddess?" I asked.
"Yes, it is."
"Talk about delusions of grandeur." I was watching his face, trying to catch a hint. "Did the cops talk to the vamp?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"She wasn't helpful."
"You didn't believe her, did you?"
"Neither did the cops. But she was on stage at her club during at least three of the murders."
"So she's cleared," I said.
"Which is why I want you to read the reports first, Anita. We've missed something. Maybe you'll find out what, but not if you keep looking for Aztec bogeymen. We raised that rock, and as much as the police would like it to be the Master of the City, it isn't."
"So why the offer to take me down to see her tonight?"
"Just because she's not doing the murders, doesn't mean she can't have information that could help us."
"The police questioned her." I made it a statement.
"Yeah, but funny how vampires don't like talking to the police, and how much they like talking to you."
"You know you could have just told me that we were seeing the Master Vamp of Albuquerque tonight."
"I wasn't going to take you down there tonight unless you got bitchy about it. I was actually hoping you wouldn't make the Aztec angle until you'd read everything first."