Chapter Forty-one
I THOUGHT I'D have trouble ditching the police, but no one wanted to play with me. I got nervous glances from some of them, or ignored, or even downright hostile stares. No one questioned where I was going with Micah and Nathaniel. None of the officers were ones that I knew well, but it was still unnerving. Helpful, in that moment, but it didn't bode well for future police work.
"They think you're one of us," Micah whispered.
"And it makes that much difference to them?" I said.
"Apparently, yes," he said.
Nathaniel hugged me one-armed as we walked past the people who had come here because a cop had been hurt. They'd come because I was one of them. The looks on their faces said, clearly, that I wasn't one of them anymore. Did it hurt my feelings? Yeah, it did. But I'd worry about my reputation later; right now there was a fight to finish.
I realized I was about to walk out without the only police backup I'd be taking: Edward and, oddly, Olaf. I didn't want to be in a car with Olaf. The space was too small to share with him. As if I'd thought too hard about him, he walked through the doors of the exit. Edward was right behind him, but for a moment Olaf looked at me. For a moment I saw his eyes bare, no hiding. The look in his eyes, on his face, stopped my breath in my throat. There were so many things to be afraid of tonight, but in that instant I was afraid of Olaf, truly and completely afraid.
Micah started to step in front of me, doing that guy-protection thing. With almost anyone else, I'd have let him do it, but not for Olaf. I moved so that Micah was beside me, where he'd started. I stepped out in front of both my men, so that the only target for Olaf's eyes was me. Me, he liked; he didn't like my boyfriends. They were just in his way. Call it a hunch, but I was betting that people who were just in Olaf's way didn't last long.
His eyes changed from that look that would haunt me to something that was almost, almost, admiration. In some strange way I understood him better than most. Edward understood him, too. It should have worried both of us that we understood someone like Olaf.
Edward hurried to get ahead of the bigger man. He was talking as he walked. "I think you need to get out there and rescue your friend from the lieutenant."
"What friend?"
"Graham," he said, and Edward's eyes melted around the edges, showing me the anger that was underneath. Anger about Peter, anger about Olaf, anger about what? I couldn't ask, and when I got a chance later, he'd probably lie anyway.
Edward took my arm, something he had never done that I could remember. He took me by the elbow like I was a girl and needed to be led. I might have protested, except I caught sight of Olaf's face. He watched Edward touch me, touch me like I was a girl, which he'd never seen before, because it wasn't how Edward touched me, ever. I was a lot of things to Edward, but I was never a girl. Edward led me past the looming presence of Olaf. Micah and Nathaniel trailed us. Olaf watched us with a considering look on his face. I was through the doors and into the cold of the parking lot beyond before I realized that Edward had done what I wouldn't let Micah do: he'd protected me, put himself between me and Olaf. It hadn't been as obvious as Micah's attempt, but I didn't pull free of Edward even after I figured it out. Of all the men I knew, Edward could handle himself, even against giant-sized serial killers.
Graham was a big guy, knew it, liked it. But standing beside Dolph, he looked small. It made me wonder for a second how tiny I must look standing beside Dolph. Edward let go of my elbow as we got to the argument. It wasn't quite a fight, yet, but it had the feel of something that might turn into one. We didn't have time for this shit. Jean-Claude and his vampires were on their way to the church. We had to go.
"Since when does a federal marshal need a bodyguard?" Dolph asked, his voice deepening with anger. His big hands were already curled into fists.
The energy of Graham's beast was trailing the air like tiny, searching hands. Pats and tickles of energy touched my skin. Nathaniel shivered beside me. Micah would control it better, but he'd feel it, too. The fact that it was only small touches of power meant Graham was really fighting to control himself. I wasn't so sure the same could be said of Dolph.
Edward let me walk a little ahead of everyone so that I stood just out of reach, but close enough to be heard by Dolph and Graham.
"Hey, Dolph, I'll take Graham off your hands."
Dolph gave me a glance, but didn't seem to want to look away from the man in front of him. I'd seen him try to pick a fight once with Jason. It hadn't worked, because Jason didn't get upset that easily. Graham did.
Detective Smith walked up beside me. He was rubbing his arms, as if he were cold. It was December, but it wasn't that kind of cold. Smith was psychically gifted, no specific ability that I knew of, but he sensed lycanthropes and other otherworldly stuff. Standing out here with an arguing werewolf had probably not been comfy for him, but Smith was a good sport.
"Lieutenant, I think Marshal Blake is leaving. She'll take her guard with her, and that way you won't have to worry about what he's doing here." Smith made his voice light, trying to sound harmless. He was pretty good at harmless, not much taller than me, blond hair, young for his age. He was the newest detective on the squad. Where was Zerbrowski? He was the best at managing Dolph's moods.
"I want to know why a federal marshal needs a bodyguard," Dolph said through gritted teeth.
Graham looked at me. The look said, What do I say?
Unless I was willing to fess up to being Jean-Claude's human servant or Richard's lupa, I didn't know what to say. I seldom lie well if I don't see the lie coming a long way off.
Micah stepped into the charged silence. "It's my fault, Lieutenant. I love her, and she almost died. I'm sorry if my hiring Graham to be by her side upset you, but I know you're married. I'm sure you understand how frightened I was when I saw her lying in that bed." Sometimes I forgot how smoothly Micah could lie. Of course, the only real lie in the mix was that he had hired Graham personally. The rest was probably true.
"You aren't married to Anita."
"Micah's been living with me for seven months."
"Talk to me when you've made a year," he said.
"You were always onto me to find a steady boyfriend who had a pulse. I found one, so now what's your problem?"
"When did humans stop being good enough for you, Anita?"
I shook my head and made a push-away gesture. "I'm not having this fight tonight, Dolph. Come on, Graham, let's go."
We went. Dolph didn't have any reason to hold us, except his hatred of the monsters. But being hated isn't against the law. Good to know.
Chapter Forty-two
EDWARD DROVE INTO the parking lot of the Church of Eternal Life, with Olaf riding beside him. I'd opted to sit in the middle seat with Micah and Nathaniel. Graham was in the back by himself. Edward hadn't even questioned why I let Olaf ride shotgun. I think he didn't want to watch Olaf stare at me either. It takes a lot to creep out Edward, but whatever Olaf had done while I was cut open had done it.
The parking lot was so full that we had to park illegally, close to the small green area with its benches and growing trees. In the December cold it was a bleak little space, or maybe my reaction was partly that the last time I'd stepped on the church's grass I'd shot a vampire to death with a handgun. It takes longer with a handgun. They tend to squirm and cry. Not one of my best memories. I shivered in the short leather jacket that Nathaniel had brought for me. The jacket would have been warmer if I'd been willing to zip it up, but I wanted to be able to get to my weapons more than I wanted to be warm.
You could tell who was carrying weapons by whose coat was flapping open in the winter cold. Nathaniel was zipped tight, but he'd continued his matching theme with his short leather jacket, so we still looked like we were going to a Goth club prom. The disturbing part was that Olaf matched us: black on black, leather jacket, boots.
Nathaniel had zipped up, Olaf hadn't. Micah had belted his lined trench coat. Graham's leather was fastened tight, too.
The church rose above us white and bare. The lack of decoration always made the church seem unfinished to me. No holy objects allowed when most of your congregation are vampires.
We walked up those wide, white steps to the double doors. Graham insisted on opening the doors for us. I didn't have patience to argue, and I was pretty certain Edward didn't argue because he knew cannon fodder when he saw it. He was hard-to-kill cannon fodder, but Graham wasn't armed, and I wasn't in love with him. From Edward's point of view it changed how he would treat him. Truthfully, me, too. I wanted everyone to come out alive tonight, but if it came to choices, who you loved counted. If you're not willing to admit that out loud inside your own head, then you should stay out of firefights and keep your family at home. Be honest, who would you save? Who would you sacrifice? We let Graham swing wide those double doors. He didn't even try to take cover. He stood framed in the light, his body dark with that nimbus of brightness around it. He turned back to me with a smile, as if he'd done a good thing. I said a prayer that Graham didn't get himself killed tonight. Yeah, we were supposed to be doing metaphysical battle, no weapons, but there were ways to kill with metaphysics. I'd seen it done. Hell, I'd done it a time or two. Illegal, that, if it's a human that dies. I won't tell if you won't.
Nathaniel reached for my left hand. He was warm, warmer than he should have been, fever warm, but there was no sweat on his palm. It wasn't nerves. It was power. It climbed up my arm, across my body in a wave of heat that made my skin dance in goose bumps. I made a small stumble on the steps. Micah grabbed my arm. He meant it to be helpful, but the power leapt from me to him. And it wasn't a power meant for him. Damian was meant to be on the other side of me for this. He was meant to cool this fire, but Micah's was never a magic that cooled me down. The power found the only thing it could recognize. It found his beast. I could actually see his leopard roaring up inside him like a black flame, roaring to life, spilling upward inside him. Micah could control it, but the velvet pouring of his beast brought mine. I was caught between two wereleopards. There was no other animal to distract my beasts.
I almost screamed it. "Not now!"
Olaf's deep voice said, "What is that?"
I didn't have time to look around and see if there was something else coming. Edward would take care of it. I believed that.
Micah managed to tear himself away from my arm. He went to his knees on the steps, as if he were having more trouble than normal controlling his own beast. It wasn't close to full moon. It shouldn't have been such an effort.
Graham was coming toward us. He was coming in a blur of speed, but my leopard was rising faster. It was tearing its way up through my body. I needed to cool this heat. I almost reached for Jean-Claude. He was vampire. He was the chill of the grave, but he never affected me that way. He was always passion to me. I needed to think. I reached for my other vampire. I reached out to Damian. I reached out with desperation. I screamed in my head, Save me, save us, kill this heat.
I felt him stagger when my call hit him. I knew someone grabbed his arm to keep him from falling. But my power hit him, and he gave me what I demanded. He gave me that coolness. That utter control that he had learned in years of servitude to the master that created him. He gave me the control that had helped him survive, and betray nothing by thought, word, deed, or glance. He gave me that control in a sweep of cold, steely willpower.
The visual in my head was of my leopard finding a metal wall in her path. She snarled at it and reacted like any self-respecting leopard would if a giant wall suddenly appeared in the forest path. She ran. The leopard ran back the way she had come, to hide in that empty, full, dark place where all the beasts seemed to wait inside me. It was like the blackness of space before the light found it, except it was inside me somewhere. I don't explain the show, sometimes I just watch it.
A woman's voice, half singing, beautiful and pure and strangely joyous, spoke from inside the open doors. "Let it begin at last, our contest, Jean-Claude. Your servant has struck the first blow."
I yelled, "It was an accident." But it was too late. I had done metaphysics. Either she didn't realize how little control I had over some of my powers, or she was using it as an excuse to start the fight. Either way, shit.
Graham offered me his hand, and I took it. He dragged me and Nathaniel up off the steps. His hand in mine was just a hand, just warmth. Maybe he wasn't armed, and maybe he didn't understand how to take cover, but in that moment no one else with us could have dragged me to my feet without complicating things. I looked up and found Edward with his hand on Olaf's stomach, or lower chest. Olaf would have helped me off the steps, and Edward had stopped it. He looked at me, and the look was enough. They weren't psychic enough to tell the difference between beasts rising and the ardeur rising, not in its early stages. Edward didn't want to have it spread to him, and he was going to make certain it didn't spread to Olaf. I pushed the thought away, into that crowded cage that all the other thoughts had gone into for the last few days and hours. Think about it later. We were running up the steps. Graham had my right hand, but we weren't supposed to be pulling guns tonight, right?