Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 11-15 - Laurell K. Hamilton [143]
There’d been a movement a few years ago to make a magic-using human subject to orders of execution, but too many human right’s organizations had kicked a fit. As a magic-using human, I was happy. As someone who had executed people on orders of the court, I wasn’t sure how I would have felt about hunting a human being down and killing them. I’d killed humans before when they threatened my life, or the lives of those I held dear. But self-defense, even proactive self-defense wasn’t quite the same thing. A human witch or wizard got a trial, but if they were convicted of using magic for murder, it was an automatic death sentence. Ninety-nine percent of the time the witch or wizard was convicted. Jurors just didn’t like the idea of people who could kill by magic walking around free. One of my goals in life was to stay the hell out of a courtroom.
I knew Jason hadn’t done anything wrong, but I also knew enough about the way the system worked to know that for those of us who weren’t exactly human, sometimes innocence didn’t matter much.
“Can anyone else verify these times?” Zerbrowski asked.
“A few people, yeah,” I said.
“A few people,” Dolph said. He looked disgusted, and I didn’t understand this emotion either. “You don’t even know who the father is, do you?”
That made me give him a deer in headlights blink. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He gave me a look, as if I’d already lied to him. “Detective Reynolds told us her little secret.”
I looked at him across the table. He was still leaning over, and I was still standing, so we were almost eye-to-eye. “So?”
He gave a sound between a snort and a cough. “She wasn’t the only one who passed out at the murder scene, and she wasn’t the only one who threw up.” He looked as if he’d made a great point, driven it home with a surgeon’s precision.
I frowned and blinked at him. “I’m sorry, what are you talking about?” I let myself look as confused as I felt.
“Don’t be coy, Anita, you’re not good at it.”
“I’m not being coy, Dolph, you’re making no fucking sense.” Then an idea popped into my head, but that couldn’t be it. Dolph wouldn’t think . . .
I looked at him, and thought, maybe he would think that. “Are you implying that I’m pregnant?”
“Implying, no.”
I relaxed a little. I shouldn’t have.
“I’m asking, do you know who the father is, or have there been too many to guess?”
Zerbrowski stood, and he was close enough to Dolph that it forced him to move a little way from the table. “I think you should go now, Anita,” Zerbrowski said.
Dolph was glaring at me. I should have been angry, but I was too surprised. “I’ve thrown up at murder scenes before.”
Zerbrowski moved a little back from the table. He had a resigned look on his face, like someone who saw the train coming down the track and knew nobody was going to get off in time. I still didn’t think things were that bad.
“You’ve never passed out before,” Dolph said.
“I was sick, Dolph, too sick to drive myself.”
“You seem fine now,” he said, voice low and rumbling, filled with that anger that seemed always just below the surface lately.
I shrugged. “I guess it was just one of those viruses.”
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fang mark on your neck would it?”
My hand went up to it, then I forced myself not to touch it. Truthfully, I’d forgotten about it. “I was sick, Dolph, even I get sick.”
“Have you been tested for Vlad’s syndrome, yet?”
I took in a deep breath, let it out, then said, fuck it. Dolph wasn’t going to let this one go. He wanted to fight. I could do that. Hell, a nice uncomplicated screaming match sounded almost appealing.
“I’ll say this once, I’m not pregnant. I don’t care if you believe me, because you’re not my father, you’re not my uncle, brother, or anything. You were my friend, but even that’s up for grabs right now.”
“You’re either one of us, or you’re one of them, Anita.”
“One of what?” I asked. I was pretty sure of the answer, but I