Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 6-10 - Laurell K. Hamilton [305]
“Feed them?” I asked.
“Says that they each take a small drink from the guardian to start the night. Without it, she says the hunger grows too strong, and they may be dangerous.”
“Isn’t she a font of information.”
“She’s scared, Anita. She’s got two freaking vampire bites on her neck, and she’s scared.”
“Shit,” I said. “I’m on my way, but frankly, Dolph, I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“You’re the vampire expert, you tell me.” A little hostility there.
“I’ll think about it on the way. Maybe I’ll have come up with a plan by the time I get there.”
“Before they became legal, we’d have just burned them out ourselves.”
“Yeah,” I said, “the good old days.”
“Yeah,” he said. I don’t think he got the sarcasm. But with Dolph it was always hard to tell.
I dialed the third number. Larry answered, “Anita.” His voice sounded strained, pain-filled.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, my throat suddenly tight.
“I’m all right.”
“You don’t sound all right,” I said.
“I’ve just been moving around too much with the stitches and stuff. I need to take a pain pill, but I won’t be able to drive.”
“You need a lift?”
He was quiet for a second or two, then, “Yes.”
I knew how much it had cost him to call me. This was one of his first times in the field on a police job without me. The fact that he needed my help for anything must have griped his ass. It would have bugged the hell out of me. In fact, I wouldn’t have called. I’d have toughed it out, until I passed out. This wasn’t a criticism of Larry, it was a criticism of me. He was just smarter than I was sometimes. This was one of those times.
“Where are you?”
He gave me the address, and it was close. Lucky us. “I’m less than five minutes away, but I can’t take you home. I’m on my way to another crime scene.”
“As long as I don’t have to drive, I’ll be okay. It’s starting to take all my attention just to stay on the road. Time to stop driving when it’s this hard.”
“You really do have a higher wisdom score than I do.”
“Which means you wouldn’t have asked for help yet,” he said.
“Well…yeah.”
“When would you have asked for help?”
“When I drove off the road and had to call a tow truck.”
He laughed and took a sharp breath as if it hurt. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
“I’ll be there.”
“I know,” he said. “Thanks for not saying you told me so.”
“I wasn’t even thinking it, Larry.”
“Honest?”
“Cross my heart and…”
“Don’t say it.”
“You getting superstitious on me, Larry?”
He was quiet for a space of heartbeats. “Maybe, or maybe it’s just been a long day.”
“It’ll be a longer night,” I said.
“Thanks,” he said. “Just what I wanted to hear.” He hung up then without saying goodbye.
Maybe I’d trained Dolph never to say goodbye. Maybe I was always the bearer of bad tidings, and everyone wanted to get off the phone with me as soon as possible. Naw.
40
I EXPECTED LARRY to be sitting in his car. He wasn’t. He was leaning against it. Even from a distance I could tell he was in pain, back stiff, trying not to move any more than necessary. I pulled in beside him. Up close he looked worse. His white dress shirt was smeared with black soot. His summer-weight dress pants were brown, so they’d survived a little better. A black smudge ran across his forehead to his chin. The blackness outlined one of his blue eyes so that it seemed darker, like a sapphire surrounded by onyx. The look in his eyes was dull, as if the pain had drained him.
“Jesus, you look like shit,” I said.
He almost smiled. “Thanks, I needed that.”
“Take a pill, get in the Jeep.”
He started to shake his head, stopped in mid-motion and said, “No, if you can drive, I can go to the next disaster.”
“You smell like someone set your clothes on fire.”
“You look pristine,” he said, and he sounded resentful.
“What’s wrong, Larry?”
“Other than my back feels