Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter #16 - Blood Noir (22 page)

“All of them: Jen, Jenna, and J. J.” She grabbed his arm with both hands. “And Ashley, and Kris. Oh, they’ll kill me if you don’t at least come say hi.”

He nodded, as I’d feared he would. “We’ll get dressed and I’m sure someone here will be happy to take us to your bachelorette party.” That last was almost mean for Jason, because he knew damned well that none of the men wanted him at that party. Hell,
I
didn’t want him at that party, though not for the same reasons. I just didn’t want to go.

She let go of his arm with one hand and grabbed my hand. “Please, Anita, I know I’ve been horrible. I guess it’s wedding nerves, but please let Jason come. Please, come with him. Give me a chance to prove to you that I’m not some crazy woman, please.”

I looked down into her face. She had to be under five feet tall. I didn’t get to look down at many people. But it wasn’t the height that made it hard to say no. It was the look in her eyes. But I could have withstood that, too. It was the look in Jason’s eyes. He wanted to go. He wanted to talk to his old friends. Well, I’d already met his family, what were a few old girlfriends compared to that? I tried to believe that as I agreed that we’d get dressed and join them at the party. file://L:\Azures L_Disc Shared Dowloads\EBooks\Anita Blake Series 1-17\(Book16] - Bl... 10/18/2009

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30

THE FIRST THING
we did after we got the crowd out was shower. The sex had been good enough that you needed a shower the way you do after a good workout. We tried to get Shadwell and Rowe to step out of the room while we cleaned up, but they wouldn’t do it. So two strange, armed men whom I’d just met got to sit out in the room while Jason and I took turns in the shower. Why turns? Because I didn’t want two strange, armed men whom I’d just met alone in our hotel room. Paranoid, who, me?

What do you wear to a bachelorette party for the future daughter-in-law of one of the richest men in a given state, who is also a presidential hopeful? I’d brought nice businessy clothes and comfortable clothes, and a lot of weapons. The choices were limited in everything except armament. They were Jason’s friends, so I let him choose. I know, if the girl union ever hears that I asked my straight male friend to dress me for a party I’ll get my union card yanked, but hey, left to my own devices I’d have grabbed jeans, a T-shirt, my jogging shoes, and an extra gun. Maybe a couple of knives for added comfort.

Jason didn’t think the bachelorette party would get that out of hand, but I remembered the last bachelorette party I’d gone to. It had been my friend Catherine’s, and it had gotten so out of hand that what started that night almost got me killed.

Jason had said, “There won’t be vampire strippers at this party, Anita. I think you and I together can handle the normal humans.”

He had a point, but…we compromised. I switched the Browning from its more hidden location at the small of my back to its normal shoulder holster rig. I put a nice black suit jacket over a perfectly red T-shirt and nice blue jeans. My badge went in the jacket pocket. The Nikes gave way to a pair of short boots. I added knife sheaths in two wrist sheaths under the jacket. Jason had protested, but I’d told him the truth. “I won’t be able to take off the jacket or I’ll flash the gun, so I might as well have my knives.”

“You’re not wearing the big-ass knife that sits at your spine, are you?”

“No,” I said, “I left it at home, thank you. I didn’t think your family was that dangerous.”

We’d tried again to get Shadwell and Rowe to step out of the room, but they had said they couldn’t disobey a direct order, and if they left their posts, they would lose their jobs. Fine, they had watched the negotiations. It had strained their professional bodyguard blankness to its limit, I think. At least Rowe had given me wide eyes a few times. Jason and I had to take turns changing clothes in the bathroom.

I was finally dressed, and armed, and sitting in one of the room’s many purple chairs waiting for Jason to finish changing. I’d gotten my cross out of the bedside table, and it was pretty visible against file://L:\Azures L_Disc Shared Dowloads\EBooks\Anita Blake Series 1-17\(Book16] - Bl... 10/18/2009

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the shirt. What wasn’t visible was the charm under my shirt. I wore it almost all the time, too. But the cross was a religious symbol and protection against bad vampires. The ancient charm was protection against only one vampire—the Mother of All Vampires, who’d taken an unhealthy interest in me a few months ago. The charm was made of metal so ancient it bent if I pressed against a hard surface. It bore magical symbols so old that I had found no human able to read it. But there were vampires who could, because that was who had given it to me. They’d given it to me to keep Marmee Noir from using my necromancy to wake herself up and become their queen again. Shad and Rowe tried to not look at me. It was sort of a very mild version of what the guards do outside Buckingham Palace. Duty first and foremost, nothing else exists. Once I would have left them alone, but first, I was a girl, and that meant I felt damn near compelled to talk to anyone in a silent room, and second, I just wanted to yank their chain. Maybe I’d been hanging around with Jason too long.

“How long have you been out of the military, Shadwell?”

His body reacted, but not his face, a stiffening of the shoulders, the spine. “Haircut?” he said.

“That and you just don’t taste like a civilian.”

He turned those pale eyes to me behind their wire frames. It was not a friendly look, or an unfriendly one, more neutral. “Two years.”

Rowe looked at me.

I fought not to smile. God, he was still so bright and shiny. “I can’t peg you, Rowe. You don’t taste like military, or cop, but you taste like something that isn’t civvie.”

He grinned at me, eyes sparkling with pleasure. “Yeah, I kicked ass at undercover.”

“So cop, or fed?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he said.

Shad gave him a look, and a brief “Don’t.”

Rowe stopped smiling, but his eyes still gleamed with some inner happiness. So Shadwell was senior man.

“Don’t what?” I asked.

“We are supposed to guard you, not fraternize.”

“Fraternize,” I said, and laughed. “Fraternize, haven’t heard that word in a while.”

Shadwell frowned at me. “It’s an accurate word.”

I nodded, and fought not to look more serious. It didn’t help when I caught Rowe’s gaze. His eyes were practically shining with suppressed mirth. The edge of his mouth twitched and I had to look away, or I’d have lost it.

Shadwell seemed to sense it, because he gave Rowe a hard look. Rowe had to have a coughing fit to cover the laughter that was almost spilling over.

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“What got you off undercover work, Rowe?” I asked.

Still recovering from his “coughing fit,” he said, “My sense of humor.”

I looked at him, tried to see if he was serious. He was implying that he’d been fired, or at least reassigned, because his sense of humor had gotten him in trouble.

“Rowe,” Shadwell said, “she does not need to know your background.”

“Yes, sir.” Rowe went back to attention by the door, but his eyes and a certain set to the mouth said he didn’t really mean it. I was beginning to see how Rowe might have gotten in trouble with his superiors.

Shadwell gave us both a hard look, and it was a good look, a real look. Bad guys must have flinched under his gaze, but I wasn’t a bad guy. I was just someone wondering why the guards were on our side of the door. It seemed a little excessive.

“Fine, Shadwell, are you and Rowe here going to stand inside our room all night?”

“No.”

“Then why are you standing here now?”

“Because we were told to,” he said.

Rowe’s mouth twitched again. Someone with a sense of humor had partnered them with each other.

“Isn’t it kind of weird to be on this side of the door? I mean the danger is out there, not in here.”

Shadwell frowned, then smoothed it out. “I’m following orders, Ms. Blake.”

“Marshal Blake,” I said, because it just seemed good to remind rule-and-order Shadwell that I wasn’t really a civvie either.

His eyes flickered to me, then back to staring into space. “If you’re a federal marshal, then you’ll appreciate that I’m following orders.”

That made me laugh. “Nicely done, Shadwell.
If
I’m a federal marshal. I assure you I am, badge and all, but I’m not really real, am I? I mean I got grandfathered in, and didn’t go through the training, so I’m not really a marshal, right?”

“I did not say that.”

“You implied it,” I said, and my voice was no longer pleasant.

“Are you trying to pick a fight with Shadwell?” Rowe asked, his face curious. I shrugged, slumping back in the chair as much as the shoulder rig would comfortably let me.

“Maybe, and if I am, I’m sorry. I’m just a little bored, a little tense, and I really, really, don’t want to go to this party.”

“It’s a bad idea,” Shadwell said.

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“The worst,” I said.

He looked at me. “Then why are you going?”

“Because Jason is going, and he wants me with him.”

Shadwell nodded. “My wife’s the social one. I hate parties, too.”

I tried to pretend that Shadwell hadn’t just done exactly what he’d yelled at Rowe for, which was overshare. “Yeah, but I bet your wife doesn’t drag you to parties where strange men will be taking off their clothes.”

“You don’t think your friend in there will want to stay for that part of the party?” Shadwell asked.

I shrugged, and sat up straighter. “He may.”

The two men exchanged glances. Even Rowe didn’t seem to think it was funny. Then Rowe grinned as if he couldn’t help it. “The last time I saw male strippers I was getting a lap dance.”

We both looked at him. He shrugged, and actually blushed, which you don’t see in an ex-cop much. “We’d had a rash of gay bashing that turned into serial murder. All the vics had frequented this one club.” Then he grinned again. “I was the only one on the undercover unit who was secure enough in my manhood to do the job.”

With that revelation the door to the bathroom opened. Jason came out in a blue T-shirt that matched his eyes to perfection, so that his eyes were incredibly blue. The T-shirt also fit very well, so that all that muscle work showed. The blue jeans were date jeans, which meant they were tight and fit well. He’d added his own short boots and had a black suit jacket to throw over it all, so it looked somewhere between semiprofessional and club wear. But he looked good, and he knew it. He’d dressed to be yummy. He might not be planning to date anyone at the party, but he wanted them to see him. Sigh. He was so going to flirt his ass off.

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31

I HAD LEFT
the big-ass knife at home and the special leather rig that let me carry it along with a handgun. But one of the reasons I had an entire carry-on of weapons was that I had to bring my vampire hunting kit. Why? Because the regulations for the preternatural branch of the federal marshal program had changed. Now, if we traveled, even on personal business, we had to have all our gear with us so that if an emergency call came up near us, and we were the closest body, we could take it. This new regulation had come up when one of my colleagues had been on a family vacation that turned into a vampire hunt for the local cops. The hunt had gone badly, and the report that he’d had to submit had listed the major problem as that his kit was at home. He needed his stuff. Didn’t we all. So that meant I had some really dangerous stuff with me. Stuff that if I’d had to get on a commercial airline, they’d have never let me get on the plane. Not even with a badge. I had the usual: extra guns, extra ammo, stakes, holy water, holy wafers, extra crosses. I’d even thrown in some holy items from other faiths because I’d had occasion to work with local law enforcement that were not Christian, and having everybody armed with a holy item was a good thing. If you got a few atheists, pray that they are well armed, but don’t tell them you’re praying for them. Some of them have about as much a sense of humor as the right-wingers.

What would have gotten me kicked off the plane, or in an interrogation room with Homeland Defense, was the Heckler and Koch MP5 and the phosphorous grenades. I’d never actually used the grenades, but my friend Edward, alias Ted Forrester, also a federal marshal for the preternatural branch, had said they worked wonders. Frankly, all grenades scared me, but something that burned even in water would be truly bad news to the undead of any kind. It would even work on zombies and ghouls, which are both so much harder to kill than vamps. The government said I needed all my toys, so I brought them—well, not all of them. I have resisted Edward’s desire to teach me how to use a flamethrower. They scare me.

All this to say that we had to make a stop at the main desk with my little carry-on. Shad and Rowe had not liked that I had to do this, but when they realized I was dead serious, they ordered up enough uniformed guards to form a phalanx around us and escorted us to the lobby. I thought it was excessive until we caught the full barrage of the cameras in the lobby. I actually slipped my sunglasses on to keep the glare down. No wonder movie stars wear them. The guards formed a wall around us so I could flash my badge to the nice lady behind the desk and explain that I had some sensitive items in this case and didn’t want to leave it in the room unattended. Before everything got weird, I might have, but I had this horrible image of reporters breaking into our room when we weren’t there. If I didn’t want the uninitiated playing with my guns, I sure as hell didn’t want them playing with phosphorous grenades. The lady, whose name tag read
Bethann
, was more than happy to help us. She even let Jason and me walk the case back to this huge-ass safe. The fact that she never blinked or asked a single question showed that I wasn’t the only guest with “sensitive” materials. Though I was willing to bet I was the only one with this much firepower in one little case.