Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 11-15 - Laurell K. Hamilton [1008]
“That sounds like Donovan,” I said.
“He’s offering to let you feed on every swanmane in the United States. There’s maybe one to six in most major cities.”
“I had no idea there were that many of them.”
“I don’t think anyone did but Donovan. He gave up a lot of intelligence, Anita. He didn’t make me promise not to use it against him if I got a contract from someone who wanted me to go swan hunting.”
“Edward…”
He held up a hand, stopping me. “I’ll promise you, if you ask.”
We looked at each other a second, and then I said, “Promise me you won’t use anything you’ve learned against any of the animal groups.”
“I won’t hunt any more swans,” He said.
“No, Edward, I mean it. You’re going to have to learn things about vampires and the shapeshifters that you could use against them. I need your word of honor that what you learn won’t come back to haunt them, or me.”
His face went to that cold, empty look. It was almost the look he used when he killed, except for a hint of anger in his eyes. “Even the lions?” he asked.
“They’re members of our coalition.”
“That mean they’re off limits?”
“No, it means we have to kick them out of the coalition before we do anything to them.”
He smiled then. “So honorable.”
“A girl’s got to have standards,” I said.
He nodded. “As long as the lions answer for it, I’m cool.”
“One crisis at a time, but yeah, they’ll answer for it.”
He gave that cold, pleased smile. It was Edward’s usual smile, the real one. The smile that said the monster was home, and happy to be there. I didn’t need a mirror to know that the smile I gave back was almost a match for it. I used to worry about becoming like Edward. Lately, I counted on it.
26
WHATEVER WE WERE going to do with the local lion pride had to wait. One emergency at a time. Funny how when Edward comes into my life, or I come into his, we’re almost always running from one emergency to the other. The difference this time was that the emergency couldn’t be handled at the point of a knife or gun barrel. A flamethrower wouldn’t even help, though Edward had probably brought one. How would he get it through airport security? It’s Edward; if he wanted to, he’d manage to get a Sherman tank through security.
I had less than two hours to feed. Less than two hours to keep Willie McCoy, with his loud suits and louder ties, alive. The love of his life, Candy, tall and blond and gorgeous, and so in love with the small, not-so-handsome vampire. I thought of Avery Seabrook, who I’d stolen away from the Church of Eternal Life. Avery with his gentle eyes, so newly dead that even to me he still felt alive sometimes. I thought of so many of the lesser vamps who had jumped ship from Malcolm’s church to us in the last few months. I couldn’t let them die, not if I could save them. But I so didn’t want to have sex with Donovan Reece.
There was nothing wrong with him. He was tall, pale, and handsome in a preppy, clean-cut sort of way. He was an inch shy of six feet, broad shoulders tucked into a baby-blue sweater that complemented a milk-and-cream complexion so perfect it looked artificial, but it wasn’t. The faint pink blush on his cheeks was just his own blood flowing under that white, white skin. He was as pale as a Caucasian vampire before they’d fed. But there was nothing dead about Donovan. No, there was something incredibly alive about him, as if at a glance you could tell that his blood ran hotter. Not hot as in passion, but hot as in hot to the touch, as though if you spilled it into your mouth it would be hot, like sweet, metallic cocoa.
I had to close my eyes and hold up a hand before he got right beside the bed. I spoke with my eyes still closed. “I’m sorry, Donovan, but you hit the radar as food.”
“I’m supposed to be food.”
I shook my head. “Not food for the ardeur, but food-food. I’m wondering what your blood would taste like going down.”
“I was afraid of this.” A female voice. I opened my eyes to see Sylvie, Richard