Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 6-10 - Laurell K. Hamilton [364]
“You want me to volunteer some of the wereleopards as walking provisions?”
“I am going to supply some werewolves as well,” he said.
“I’m lupa for the pack as well as Nimir-ra for the leopards. You need to run the wolves by me, too.” Richard had made me lupa of the werewolves when we were dating. Lupa is often just another word for the head wolf’s girlfriend, though usually it’s another werewolf, not a human. The wereleopards came to me by default. I killed their last leader and found out that everyone else was pretty much beating the hell out of them. Weak shapeshifters without a dominant to protect them end up as anyone’s meat. It was my fault, sort of, that they were being hurt, so I extended my protection over them. My protection, since I wasn’t a wereleopard, consisted of my threat. My threat was that I’d kill anyone who messed with them. The monsters in town must have believed it, because they left the leopards alone. Use enough silver bullets on enough monsters, and you get a reputation.
Jean-Claude put the receiver up to his ear. “It is getting so that a person cannot insult a monster in Saint Louis without answering to you, ma petite.” If I hadn’t known better, I’d say Jean-Claude was angry with me.
I guess, this once, I couldn’t blame him.
3
THE PRIVATE JET was like a long white egg with fins. Okay, it was longer than an egg and more pointy at the ends, but it seemed just as fragile. Have I mentioned I have this little phobia about flying? I sat in my comfy, fully swivel, fully reclinable chair very upright, seat-belted in, fingernails digging into the cushioned arms. I had purposefully turned the seat away from one of the many round windows so I couldn’t see out the side nearest me. Unfortunately, the plane was so narrow that I caught glimpses on the opposite side windows of fluffy clouds and clear blue sky. Hard to forget you’re thousands of feet above the ground with only a thin sheet of metal between you and eternity when clouds keep floating past the window.
Jason plopped down in the seat next to me, and I let out a little yip. He laughed. “I can’t believe you’re this scared of flying.” He pushed his chair with his feet, making it spin around, slowly, like a kid with Daddy’s office chair. His thin blond hair was cut just above his shoulders, no bangs. His eyes were the same pale blue as the sky we were flying through. He was exactly my height, five three, which made him short, especially for a man. He never seemed to mind. He wore an oversized T-shirt and a pair of jeans so faded they were almost white. He wore two hundred dollar jogging shoes, though I knew for a fact he never jogged.
He’d turned twenty-one this summer. He’d informed me that he was a Gemini, and he was now legal for everything. Everything could cover a lot of ground for Jason. He was a werewolf, but he currently lived with Jean-Claude and played morning appetizer or evening snack for the vampire. Shapeshifter blood has a bigger kick to it, more power. You can drink less of it than human blood and feel a hell of a lot better, or so I’ve observed.
He flung himself up from the chair and fell to his knees in front of me. “Come on, Anita. What’s to worry?”
“Leave me alone, Jason. It’s a phobia. It has no logic. You can’t talk me out of it, so just go away.”
He sprang to his feet so fast it was almost magical. “We’re perfectly safe.” He started jumping up and down on the floor of the plane. “See, solid.”
I yelled, “Zane!”
Zane appeared beside me. He was about six feet tall, stretched long and thin as if there wasn’t enough flesh to cover his bones. His hair had been dyed a shocking yellow, like neon buttercups, shaved on the sides and gelled into small, stiff spikes on top. He wore black vinyl pants, like a slick second skin, and a matching vest, no shirt. Shiny black boots completed the outfit.
“You rang?” he asked in a voice that was almost painfully deep.