Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 6-10 - Laurell K. Hamilton [213]
Liv scooted out of the car to stand near me. She’d lifted a few too many weights to cross her arms comfortably but she was trying. Trying for that nonchalant bodyguard look. She was six feet tall and built like a brick outhouse; she didn’t have to try hard to look intimidating.
Jean-Claude got out of the car on my side, putting himself between the two of us. I wasn’t sure who he was protecting; her or me.
He had Asher’s long coat in his arms. “I suggest, ma petite, that you wear this to cover the weapons.”
“I’ll tell them about the knives,” Liv said.
“If the weapons are in plain sight, it is more of a challenge,” Jean-Claude said. “Someone might feel compelled to take them from you.”
“They can try,” I said.
Jean-Claude handed me the coat, draped across his arms. “Please, ma petite.”
I took it from him. He didn’t say “please” often.
I slipped the black coat on. I was reminded of two things. One, it was too damn hot to wear a coat. Two, Asher was six foot or more, the coat was huge. I started rolling up the sleeves.
“Anita,” Liv said.
I glanced at her.
She looked serious now, her strong Nordic face blank and unreadable. “Look into my eyes.”
I shook my head. “What do you guys do, sit around watching old Dracula movies and stealing the dialogue?”
Liv took a threatening step forward. I just stared up at her. “Save the big-bad-vampire routine, Liv. We’ve done this and you can’t roll me with your eyes.”
“Ma petite,” Jean-Claude said, “do as she asks.”
I frowned at him. “Why?” Suspicious, who me?
“Because if the Traveler’s extra power can bespell you through Liv’s eyes, it would be better to know here in relative safety than inside among our greater foes.”
He had a point, but I didn’t like it. I shrugged. “Fine.” I stared at her face, into her blue eyes, though the color was a little washed out from the streetlight.
Liv turned; a spill of yellow light from the open car door hit her eyes and made them that amazing violet-blue, almost purple. Her eyes were her best feature and I’d never had any trouble meeting that flower-petal gaze.
I still could. Not even a twinge.
Liv’s hands balled into fists. She spoke, but I didn’t think she was talking to either of us, “You promised me. Promised me enough power to roll her mind.”
There was a rush of wind, cold enough to make me shiver and huddle into the long coat.
Liv laughed, a loud bray of sound. She raised her arms to the cold wind as if it were wrapping her around like drapes in the breeze.
The cold wind raised the hairs on the back of my neck, but it wasn’t the temperature, it was the power in it.
“Now,” Liv said, “look into my eyes, if you dare.”
“Little better on the dialogue,” I said.
“Are you afraid to meet my gaze, Executioner?”
The cold wind that had come from nowhere died, then faded, a last icy caress. I waited until the summer heat slid over me like plastic wrap, waited until sweat trailed down my spine; then I looked up.
Once upon a time I’d avoided looking any vamp in the eyes. I’d had some natural immunity, but even the lesser vamps were dangerous. Their gaze was one trick that almost all of them had to a lesser, or greater, extent. My powers had grown, and the vampire marks had cinched it. I was pretty much immune to vampire gaze. So why was I afraid now?
I met Liv’s violet gaze solid, no flinching. At first there was nothing but their extraordinary color. A tension went out of me, my shoulders loosened. They were just eyes. Then it was as if the violet of her eyes was water, and I was something that skated over the surface tension, until something rose from her eyes and pulled me down. Always before it had been like falling, but now something had me, something dark, and strong. It sucked me under like water under ice. I screamed, and lashed