Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 6-10 - Laurell K. Hamilton [391]
Jamil was standing in front of the cabins. He’d changed into black jeans and a T-shirt with a smiley face on it. The T-shirt was cut across the middle so his abs showed. Though my dance card was full of attractive men, Jamil did have one of the nicest stomachs I’d ever seen. The muscles stood out under the tight smoothness of his skin like shingles on a roof. It didn’t even look real. Somehow, I didn’t think you needed cobblestone abs to be a good bodyguard. But hey, everyone needs a hobby.
“I’m sorry I missed the fun,” he said. He touched my bruised lip gently. It still made me wince. “I’m surprised you let anyone mark you.”
“She did it on purpose,” Shang-Da said.
Jamil looked at him.
“Anita pretended to faint,” Jason said. “She looked really pitiful.”
Jamil looked back at me.
I shrugged. “I didn’t let someone kick me in the face on purpose. But once I was down, I did play up how hurt I was. This way, we could press our own assault charges.”
“I didn’t think you lied that well,” Jamil said.
“Live and learn,” I said. “Where’s Richard? I need to talk to him.”
Jamil glanced behind him at one of the cabins, then back to me. There was a look on his face that I couldn’t read. “He’s cleaning up. He’s been in the same clothes for two days.”
I stared at his so-careful face, trying to figure out what he wasn’t telling me. “What’s going on, Jamil?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Don’t give me grief, Jamil. I need to talk to Richard—now.”
“He’s in the shower.”
I shook my head, and it made my head hurt. “Screw this. What cabin is he in?”
Jamil shook his head. “Give him a few minutes.”
“Longer,” Shang-Da said, his voice very bland.
Jason looked from one to the other of them, eyes just a touch wide.
“What is going on?” I asked.
The cabin door behind Jamil opened. A woman appeared in the doorway. Richard had her arms and seemed to be trying to push her, gently but firmly, out the door.
The woman turned and saw me. She had pale brown hair in one of those hairdos that seem artless and simple yet actually take hours to do. She pulled away from Richard and stalked towards us. No, towards me. Her dark eyes were all for me.
“Lucy, don’t,” Richard said.
“I just want to smell her,” Lucy said.
It was the kind of comment a dog might make if it could speak. Smell me, not see me. We primates tend to forget that a lot of other mammals consider smell more important than vision.
Lucy and I had time to study each other as she walked towards me. She was only a little taller than me, maybe five foot six. Her walk was an exaggerated sway so that the short, plum-colored skirt bloused around her and you got glimpses of the hose and garters she was wearing underneath. She was carrying a pair of black heels but walked towards us in a graceful, almost tiptoe movement. Her blouse was a paler purple, unbuttoned so that you glimpsed enough of the bra to know it was black and matched the rest of the undies that you could see. And either the bra was a wonderbra or she was, well, stacked. She was wearing more makeup than I ever wore, but it was well-applied and made her skin look smooth and perfect. Her dark lipstick was smeared.
I glanced behind her at Richard. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and nothing else. Water still beaded on his naked chest. His thick hair clung to his face and shoulders in wet strands. He had her dark lipstick smeared across his mouth like a plum-colored bruise.
We looked at each other, and I don’t think either of us knew what to say.
The woman knew exactly what to say. “So you’re Richard’s human bitch.”
It was so hostile, it made me smile.
She didn’t like the smile. She stepped into me so close, I’d have to step back to keep the edge of her skirt from brushing my legs. If I’d had any doubt what she was, this close, her power danced over my skin like insects swarming over my body. She