He looked at me, and it was a look that I wasn't used to getting. The look said, I was being naive. "Anita, you can raise the dead."
"So?"
"I can think of a half a dozen uses for that one talent alone."
"Like what?"
"Prisoner dies in interrogation. Doesn't matter. Raise him up again. A world leader is assassinated. We need a few days to get our troops ready, raise the leader for a few days. Give us time to control the panic, or stop the revolution."
"Zombies are not alive, Bradley. They couldn't pass for a country's leader."
"From a distance, for two or three days, don't even try and say you couldn't pull that off."
"I wouldn't do it," I said.
"Even if it meant that hundreds of lives could be saved, or hundreds of Americans could be evacuated in safety."
I looked at him. "I … I don't know."
"No matter how good the cause seems at the beginning, Anita, eventually it won't be. Eventually, when you're so far in you can't see daylight, they'll ask things of you that you won't want to do."
I was hugging myself again, which irritated me. No one had approached me to do anything on an international level. Olaf thought I was good for only one thing and that did not include helping the government. But it did make me wonder how Edward had met him. Edward was spooky, but was he a spook?
I looked up at Bradley's so serious face. "I'll be careful." Then I had a thought. "Did someone approach you about me?"
"I was thinking about offering you a job with us." I raised eyebrows at him.
He laughed. "Yeah, after looking through your file, it was decided that you're too independent, too much a wild card. It was decided that you not thrive in a bureaucratic setting."
"You got that right, but I am flattered you thought of me."
His face went back to serious, and there were lines in his face that I hadn't seen before. It made him look forty plus. Most of the time he didn't. "Your file got flagged, Anita. It got moved up the line. I don't know where to or who asked for it, but there is government work out there for the independent wild card if they have specialized enough skills."
I opened my mouth, closed it, and finally said, "I'd say you were joking but you're not, are you?"
He shook his head. "I wish I was."
Edward had said that he wouldn't have brought Olaf in if he'd known I was coming. It made it sound like Olaf had been invited in, not volunteered, but I'd ask Edward. I'd make sure.
"Thank you for telling me, Bradley. I don't know much about this stuff but I know you're taking a chance telling me at all."
"I had to tell you, Anita. You see it was me that pulled your file in the first place. I was the one that pushed to get you invited in. I brought you to someone's attention. For that I am heartily sorry."
"It's okay, Bradley. You didn't know."
He gave a small shake of his head, and the look on his face was bitter. "But I should have."
I didn't know what to say to that. It turned out I didn't have to say anything. Bradley walked out of the room. I waited a second or two, then followed him out. But I couldn't shake the unease. He'd meant to scare me, and he'd succeeded. It was all Big Brother watching and paranoia. He already had me wondering if Olaf had invited himself, or even if Edward could have been asked to recruit me. It wouldn't surprise me that Edward worked for the government, at least part time. He took money from anyone.
It would have seemed silly if I hadn't seen the look on Bradley's face. If he hadn't told me about my file. He said file, like everyone had a file. Maybe they did. But someone had requested my file. I had a sudden image of my life, my crimes, all printed in neat type crossing one shadowy desk after another until it reached, where? Or would the question be who?
Blake, Anita Blake. It even sounded funny. Of course, the federal government has never been known for its sense of humor.
35
EDWARD LET ME drive his Hummer to the hospital. He stayed behind to wait for the witch. She was Donna's friend so he'd play Ted and hold her hand through the crime scene. It would be her very first crime scene. Talk about being thrown in at the deep end to sink or swim. Even I'd had a gentler introduction to police work than this.
Olaf stayed to commune with the bodies. Fine with me. I did not want to be in a car, or any small confined space with Olaf without Edward along to chaperone. I think the police and the Feds would have gladly given him to me for the ride, though. All he'd really done was confirm my supposition that the killer would not have willingly left his trophies behind, though Olaf knew less about magic than I did. He didn't know why the killer left. I was the only one with a scenario for that, and even I would be relieved if the wicca practitioner seconded my opinion. If she didn't, then we were truly out of guesses.
In fact, almost no one wanted to go with me. Franklin thought I was nuts. What did I mean, the survivors weren't survivors, but the living dead? Bradley wasn't willing to leave Franklin as the ranking agent on site. The geology maps were on the way, and I don't think he wanted Franklin in charge of the search. Marks wouldn't leave the scene to the Feds, and he also thought I was nuts. Ramirez and one uniform followed me in an unmarked car.
I didn't really think they'd find the monster. There had been no track. No tracks meant either it could fly or it dematerialized. Either way they weren't going to find it, not on foot, not with maps. So I felt free to go to the hospital.
Another reason to go into Albuquerque was that Edward had found me a name. A man who was known as a brujo, a witch. Donna had only given «Ted» the name on the condition it would not be used to harm the man. She'd only been given the name on the strict understanding that no harm would come to him. The one who gave up the name didn't want the brujo to come back and hurt her. He would work evil spells for money, as well as personal vengeance. If you could prove in court that he performed real magic for nefarious purpose, it was an automatic death sentence. His name was Nicandro Baco, and he was supposed to be a necromancer. If he were, he'd be the first one, other than me, that I'd ever met. The name came with one other warning. Be careful of him. He was much more dangerous than he looked. Just what I needed — a necromancer with an attitude. Oh, wait, I was a necromancer with an attitude. If he got shitty with me, we'd see who was the bigger fish. Was that a chip on my shoulder or overconfidence? We'd see.
Oh, and Bernardo went with me. He sat in the passenger seat slumped down until the seatbelt I'd insisted he wear cut across his neck. His handsome face was set in a scowl, arms crossed over his chest. I think he'd have crossed his legs if he'd had room. Words like closed-off, brooding, came to mind.
Shadows stretched across the road, though there were no trees or buildings to cast them. It was like the shadows just spilled out of the earth itself to lie across the road like a promise of the night to come. If you went by the watch on my wrist, it was early evening. If you went by the level of daylight, it was late afternoon. We had about three hours of daylight left. I drove through the gathering shadows with a feeling of urgency pressing against me. I wanted to be at the hospital before dark. I didn't know why, and I didn't question it. We were being followed by a police car. Surely, they could fix the ticket.
It was frightening how quickly and smoothly the car went over eighty without me noticing it. There was something about the roads and the way they spilled out and out across the empty landscape that made lower speeds seem like crawling. I kept it at a solid eighty, and Ramirez kept up with me. He seemed to be the only one who believed me. Maybe he felt the urgency, too. The silence in the car wasn't exactly companionable, but it wasn't uncomfortable either. Besides, I had enough problems without playing crying shoulder for one of Edward's sociopathic friends.