“What if they find out? The cops already think you’re one of us.”
I thought about it, then shrugged. “Honestly, the way most warrants are worded, I’m sort of encouraged to use any metaphysical abilities in pursuit of the bad guys.”
“I don’t think feeding off them is what the warrant means,” he said.
“No”-I smiled-“but it’s the way it’s written. The law is all about how it’s written and how you can interpret it.”
“What happened to the girl I met a few years back who believed in truth, justice, and the American way?”
“She grew up,” I said.
His face softened. “Why do I feel like I should apologize on behalf of all the men in your life for that?”
“Don’t flatter yourselves; the police helped toughen me up, too.”
“You’ve only fed on anger a few times, and it’s not usually as good a feeding as the ardeur.”
“Jean-Claude can divide my ardeur up among all of you while I’m gone. He’s done it before when I’ve worked with the police.”
“Yeah, but that’s only a temporary measure, and it works better if you’ve had a really good feeding before he tries it.”
“You offering?” I asked.
He gave me a wide grin. “And if I say yes, what then?”
“This is a trick to delay me until Jean-Claude wakes up, because you think with him awake I won’t be able to just fly away.”
“I think you have a hard enough time saying no to just little old me; if our master wakes and says, ‘Don’t go,’ could you defy him?”
I was suddenly afraid. Because Jason was right; whatever was happening with me and the men, Jean-Claude was the hardest to resist. It was almost as if it hadn’t been my necromancy that kept me safe from him controlling me but my lack of proximity. It was almost as if simply being too close to him too much of the time was wearing my resistance and my independence away.
“Thanks, Jason,” I said.
He frowned. “For what?”
“Now I am going, because I don’t know if I could go if he woke up and told me to stay. That’s not cool. I’m a U.S. Marshal and a vampire executioner. I have to be able to do my job, or what am I?”
“You’re Anita Blake, Jean-Claude’s human servant, and the first true necromancer in a thousand years.”
“Yeah, his pet necromancer.” I went for the door to tell the guards to send more guards to help tote and fetch.
Jason called after me, “You’re one of my best friends, and I’m afraid for you in Vegas.”
I nodded, but didn’t turn around just in case seeing one of my best friends nude made me change my mind. “I’m afraid, too, Jason-of Vegas, and Vittorio, but I’m beginning to be afraid to stay here.” I wrapped my hand around the door handle and said, “When he’s awake, when he looks at me, I’m having more and more trouble saying no. I’m losing myself, Jason.”
“I’m your animal to call, Anita; touch me and you gain strength to resist other vampires.”
“Problem is, Jason, that you’re one of the people I’m losing myself to. It’s not just Jean-Claude, it’s all of you. I can fight one or two of you, but I can’t fight six of you. I’m outnumbered.”
I opened the door and told the black-shirted guards that I needed bellmen. I didn’t go back into the bedroom. I didn’t want to talk to Jason anymore, and I didn’t want to gaze down at the bed with the two beautiful vampires in it. If I hadn’t been convinced that Vittorio wanted to kill me and mail my head somewhere, I’d have looked forward to the trip to Vegas. I needed some distance between me and the men in my life.
5
THE PLANE LANDED in Vegas without me having hysterics. Brownie point for me. The really sad thing was that I flew better now if I had someone next to me, so while I was happy for some privacy, I also missed a boyfriend’s hand to hold. I couldn’t want to run away from them all and miss them, could I? I mean, that made no sense even to me.
St. Louis is hot, but Vegas is hotter. They can say it’s a dry heat, but so is an oven. It was so hot that it took my breath away for a second. It was like my body just went, You’re joking, right? No, unfortunately, we were not only serious, but we’d be hunting vampires in this heat. Great.
I slipped on sunglasses, as if that would make any difference to the heat, but it did help with the brightness.
The pilot was helping me unload my luggage when I spotted a big man in uniform coming our way. He had a few other uniforms at his back. They kept a respectful distance, and I didn’t need to see the nameplate that said Undersheriff to make me guess it was Sheriff Shaw.
Shaw was a big guy, with a hand that swallowed mine when we shook. His eyes were lost to me behind mirrored sunglasses, but then my eyes were lost to him, too. Sunglasses may look cool, but they hide one of the best ways to decipher another person. People can lie with a lot of themselves, but eyes can give a lot away-sometimes not by what they show you but when they go their most hidden. You can judge a lot by what a person wants to hide. Of course, we were all standing in the middle of a desert, so maybe the glasses weren’t for hiding anything, just for comfort.
“Fry and Reddick will get your bags,” Shaw said. “You can drive ahead with me.”
“Sorry, Sheriff, but once a warrant of execution is in effect and the hunt begins, I’m legally bound to keep my kit in sight, or secured by me, or with me watching, in an area out of sight of the general public.”
“When did that change?” he asked.
It was Grimes who answered, “About a month ago.”
I nodded at the lieutenant. “I’m impressed you know that.”
He actually smiled. “We’ve been going in with our local executioner for a year. It’s our job to know if the law has changed.”
I nodded again. I didn’t say out loud that a lot of police still treated the preternatural branch of the marshal service as a lesser unit, or maybe an embarrassment. I couldn’t really blame the attitude; some of us were little better than assassins with badges, but the rest of us did our best.
“What caused the change?” Shaw asked.
I liked that he asked. Most wouldn’t. I answered this time. “A vampire hunter in Colorado left his bag of tricks on the backseat of his car, where some teenage joyriders stole it. They probably had no idea what was in it, but they did sell the guns, and one of them was used in a holdup where there was a death.”
Shaw looked at the heavy equipment bags. “You can’t carry all that on a hunt. Some of those bags must weigh more than you do.”
“I’ll store them, then take what I need for the hunt. I’ll get it down to a backpack and some weapons.”
Grimes said, “We can store them at our place. We’ll be with you when you serve the warrant, so you can come back and load up with us.”
I nodded. “Sounds good.”
Grimes gave me that smile again; I still wasn’t sure if it was a real smile or his version of cop face. Some give a blank face, some give smiles, but all police have a face you cannot read. I might not even learn which it was on this visit, because the lieutenant would not be going in to help serve the warrant. He’d be back at the command center, commanding.
“Sonny will drive us back, then you can stow your gear.” I wasn’t sure who Sonny was, but I’d figure it out when someone got behind the wheel.
“I’ll need to be taking Marshal Blake for debriefing,” Shaw said.
“You want to ride with us, Sheriff?” Grimes asked.
Shaw seemed to think about it for a second or two. He took his hat off and wiped some of the sweat, showing that his haircut was shorter than the SWAT. He had what the marines call a high and tight, nearly shaved on the sides, and not much longer on top, as if he’d never left the service, or at least not its barbers.