[Anita Blake 17] - Skin Trade (51 page)

“Wait, you said you're in charge of the muscle. What else is there to be in charge of?”

“Well,” he said, “technically, I'm chief bodyguard on this operation, but Requiem is third in the power structure in St. Louis, so he's the boss.”

“That makes sense, I guess.” I wasn't sure how I felt about Requiem being in charge, or even in Vegas. He was a master vamp, but he was also moody as hell, and he and I weren't getting along exceptionally well lately. I'd tried to take him off the feeding list, and now here he was in Vegas when I was far from home and my usual men.

“You're thinking too hard, Anita,” Wicked said. “Why aren't you happy that Requiem is here?”

I didn't owe Wicked the explanation about Requiem and me, so I said, “I told Jean-Claude not to send anyone who couldn't handle themselves in a fight. I've never seen Requiem fight.”

“He does okay, but honestly, Jean-Claude didn't want to send us into another vamp's territory without someone who could be more diplomatic than the rest of us. Requiem's here just in case we need to negotiate with Max and his people.”

“Like I said, Wicked, it makes sense.”

“Now, ask me how Requiem likes his cover for this assignment.”

“Cover, he's here to represent Jean-Claude's interests, right?”

“He is, but that's only if things go wrong with Max. He saw it as an insult to send this many people for him, but Jean-Claude explained we were worried about your safety with the serial killer.”

“Makes sense,” I said, not like I was happy.

“Max wanted to put his guards around you, Anita.”

“No,” I said.

“This is the compromise.”

“What is?” I asked, and couldn't keep the impatience out of my voice.

“Requiem is being loaned out as a dancer to Max's revue.”

“He hates stripping.”

“Yeah, and I hate torturing people, but I'm really, really good at it.”

I didn't know what to say to that, so I ignored it. “Couldn't we just tell Max that everyone's food for me?”

“We can explain bodyguards for you. We can explain a
pomme de sang
for you, that's London. But we can't tell Max that you need this much food, Anita. It would be too close to admitting you don't have control of the
ardeur
. Requiem is going to look over Max's club for a possible guest role, and if it works out for him, then Jean-Claude has agreed to the possibility of loaning other dancers occasionally.”

“Max has been wanting that for a while,” I said.

“Which is how we explained Requiem.”

“Why are you telling me all this and not Requiem?”

“He's soothing hurt feelings among our little group.”

“How pissy is everyone being?” I asked.

“You told Jean-Claude to pick people who could handle themselves in a fight, Anita. That means you've got a lot of big dogs in one room, fighting for the same bone. Requiem and I can handle it, but I thought you should know before you walk into it.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Now, where are you?”

“On the way to the outskirts of town. We're going to interview a witness.”

“Have you fed?”

“Solid food just a few minutes ago.”

“But no wet food?”
Wet food
was slang among the vamps for blood, and lately I'd noticed some of them referring to my feeding on sex, or emotion, the same way. I couldn't argue with it, I guess, though part of me wanted to.

“No,” I said.

“You're approaching fourteen hours between feeds, Anita. You got anyone with you, in case?”

I licked my lips. “I've got absolute-emergency volunteers, but no, not really.”

“How far out are you, and what road?” he asked.

I asked Edward, who told me. I repeated it to Wicked. “This time of night, it will be quicker if one of us flies to you.”

“Which of you can fly that well? And if it's Requiem, he can't come by himself. He may be okay in a fight, but okay isn't enough. I don't want any of our people alone until we get this bastard.”

“You really think Vittorio will make a grab for your people?”

“Humor me. Who can fly well enough to come to me?”

“I can; Truth can. I'll ask the others.” He put the phone on mute while I waited. Knowing Wicked, he'd simply ask London and Requiem which of them flew the best. I had no idea.

“We can't have Jean-Claude's men meet us at a witness's house, Anita. That'll just confirm what the PD thinks,” Edward said.

“I know that, Edward. I'm hoping he'll catch up to us afterward.”

“Are you planning on feeding before we drive back?” Olaf asked.

“No, but it's been fourteen hours, and I had to heal a lot of damage. That takes energy. He'll meet us, but it's just a precaution.”

“I said I would feed you,” Olaf said.

“Thanks, Olaf, I mean that, but . . .” I thought about what to say next. “I don't think we want our first time together to be in the back of a truck.”

He seemed to think about it for a minute or two, then said, “More time and room would be welcome.”

I had not agreed to have sex with Olaf, but I had managed not to crush his good intentions of sex that didn't involve killing his partner. Edward had asked me to try, and I was trying.

The phone came back to life in my hand. “I'll meet you.”

“Wicked, I just finished saying, nobody travels alone.”

“If they can take me on my own, then they're going to kill us all, so if I don't make it, you get out of town, and take our people with you.”

“Are you setting yourself up as bait?”

“No; are you sure you're worried about my safety, or about the fact that you might have to have sex with me?”

“That's not fair, Wicked. You know why I'm trying to cut down.”

“I know, I'm not on the meal plan. Turns out neither of the other two vamps are really that good at flying. And you scare my brother.”

“I don't scare him; he just doesn't want to be food.”

“You're right, he doesn't, but I'm right, too. You scare him, and Truth isn't scared by much.”

“And you're not afraid I'll possess you, or something?”

“I'll take my chances. Besides, you said it yourself, you're in control right now. I'm just in case.” He sounded bitter.

“Wicked.”

“Yes.”

“I don't need attitude from you, too.”

“You can order me around, and I have to take it, but you can't dictate how I feel.”

He had a point, but . . . What I wanted to say was that I didn't understand why all the men wanted to be on the feeding list. I had a mirror; I knew what I was seeing, and though I was pretty, and maybe even beautiful given the right outfit, it wasn't the same level of gorgeous of the men that were chasing me. But every time I tired to say it out loud, they accused me of being humble, or lying. I didn't think it was humility, just honesty.

“I will not apologize for trying to keep my list of feeds from growing, Wicked. Jean-Claude made noises that he didn't want to share me with any new men, and now he sends me nothing but, almost. What's with that?”

“He'd rather see you and all his people back home in St. Louis, alive, then save his ego.”

“What's that mean?”

“It means that he agreed with your assessment of Vittorio. If he sent anyone who could be used as a hostage and couldn't handle themselves in a fight, it might be too tempting. Especially considering that his choice of victims is mostly strippers, and most of your closest lovers are also strippers.”

That made my stomach clench tight.

“I feel your fear, Anita. He thought you'd reasoned that out.”

“I had, just not that bluntly.”

“I'm surprised; usually you're the more blunt of the two of you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, “but I don't feel like I'm about to lose control right now.”

“Then I will ride back with you and the nice executioners. But when you get back to a hotel, you are going to have to feed on someone.” His careful vampire voice held self-mockery, and I knew that wasn't how he felt. It was his tone when he was hiding what he felt. “But if you feed on vampire tonight, then in the morning you are going to have to pick one of the wereanimals, because vampire only works after dark when we're above ground.”

“I know that.”

“I'm just saying, be thinking about your menu choices, because I do not want you losing control of the
ardeur
because you've gone squeamish.”

“I am not squeamish.”

“If you weren't, then you'd have already slept with Haven.”

I let that go because he was probably more right than I wanted to admit. “How many other people with you are ones I've never slept with?”

“Most of the wereanimals.”

I made an exasperated sound.

“Anita, you said not to send anyone that you'd care about too much, and only to send peole that could fight. That cuts out most of your regulars. Either they mean too much to you, or they can't fight worth a farthing.” For a moment there was an echo of an accent, mostly lost long ago. “Fight off the
ardeur
, and you don't have to touch us.”

“It's not that, damn it. It's just that I'm trying to trim down the list of men, not add to it.”

“I understand that, too, but that you not only can resist my charms, but are actively disturbed by the thought of sex with me, now that does hurt an old vampire's heart.”

“Damn it, Wicked, don't make this about hurt feelings.”

“I'll do my best.”

“Wicked . . .”

“I will wait by the car, outside the house, so I don't compromise your investigation.” He hung up.

“I didn't know Wicked was on the menu for you,” Edward said.

“He's not.”

Edward gave me a look, one pale eyebrow raised.

“Don't you start, too.” I curled into the corner of my seat, crossed my arms, and let myself pout. Yes, it was childish, but every time I thought I was getting control of my powers, I was wrong. I did not want to add to the men I was sleeping with, honest. Why didn't I want to sleep with gorgeous men who were usually pretty good in bed? Because though I'd found I could have sex with this many men, I couldn't “date” them. I couldn't be their emotional rock. I was trying, and failing, but I seemed incapable of just fucking and feeding. Jean-Claude was right; I had to either stop needing so much, or stop trying for emotion with my sex. I just didn't have a clue how to do that. If it didn't matter emotionally, why have sex at all? Oh, because you are a succubus, and would die and drain the life out of people you loved, so they died first. Yeah, that was reason enough. I guess Wicked was right; I was still trying to pretend that it wasn't my reality.

“So a vampire is going to meet us at the witness's house?” Bernardo asked.

“Yes. He'll be waiting by the car when we get out.”

“Won't his car be there, too?” Bernardo asked.

“He's going to fly,” I said.

“Fly . . . oh, you mean
fly
.” Bernardo actually flapped his arms a little.

“Yeah, but they don't actually flap their arms. It's more levitation than actually flying.”

“Like Superman,” Olaf said.

I glanced back at him in the darkened car. “Yeah, I guess so, like Superman.”

“Are you feeling shaky enough to need them to meet us out here?” Edward asked.

“No, but he's right, it's going on fourteen hours. Let's just say I love you like a brother; I'd rather not have to explain that whole incest taboo to Donna and the kids.”

“So, if you lose control . . .” He didn't finish the sentence.

“It could go badly,” I said. I made myself sit up straighter. I would not pout in the corner, damn it.

“You mean, you could just lose control of this
ardeur
?” Bernardo asked.

“Yes,” I said, and let the first hint of anger into that word.

“How much loss of control?” Olaf asked.

“Let's hope none of you find out.”

“We're at the house,” Edward said.

“Let's put on our cop faces,” I said brightly, “and pretend that one of us isn't a living vampire that feeds on sex.”

“Don't let the other cops make you feel bad about it, Anita.”

“Edward, it
is
bad.”

“Everything that has happened to you happened because you were trying to save someone else. The vampire powers are the same as a gunshot wound, Anita. You got both in the line of duty.”

I looked into his face, studied it. “Do you really believe that?”

“I don't say things I don't mean, Anita.”

“You lie like butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, Edward.”

He smiled. “I don't lie to you.”

“Really,” I said.

The smile became a grin. “Okay, not most of the time, anymore.” His face sobered. “I'm not lying now.”

I nodded. “I'll take that.”

“I feel like a voyeur,” Bernardo said.

We both frowned at him, together. He raised his hands. “Sorry to ruin the touching moment, but honestly, if you want to have the heart-to-heart talks, let us get out of the car first. I'm not kidding on the voyeur part.”

“Get out,” Edward said.

He opened the door and did, without asking another thing. Olaf's face showed clearly in the sudden overhead light. He was studying us both, as if he'd never seen us before.