Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 6-10 - Laurell K. Hamilton [602]
I was standing beside the booth, staring down at him. My gun was still in my left hand, at my side, unobtrusive against my black jeans. Most people wouldn’t even see the gun. They’d see the blood and the man on the floor.
Harold and the tall Newt were standing there, frozen, staring down at Russell. Harold shook his head sadly. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Edward was standing beside the booth, blocking their view of Donna and Becca. He spoke softly, so his voice wouldn’t carry much beyond our little circle. “Don’t ever threaten these people again, Harold. Don’t come near them for any reason. Tell Riker that they are off limits, or the next time it won’t just be a broken nose.”
“I see the guns,” Harold said, voice low. He bent down beside Russell. The big man’s eyes still weren’t focused. His blue T-shirt had turned purple with blood. Harold was shaking his head. He looked up at me. “Who the hell are you?”
“Anita Blake,” I said.
He shook his head again. “Don’t know the name.”
“I guess my reputation does not precede me,” I said.
“It will,” Harold said.
I said, “Peter, get some napkins.”
Peter didn’t ask questions. He just got a double handful of napkins from the dispenser on the table and handed them my way. I took them with my right hand and held them out to Harold. He took them, watching my face, eyes flicking to the gun still bare against my leg.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
He shoved the napkins against Russell’s nose and took one arm. “Get his other arm, Newt.”
There was a distant wail of sirens coming closer. Someone had called the cops.
Russell was still unsteady on his feet. They’d shoved napkins into his flattened nose, and he looked both silly and grotesque with the bloody napkins sticking out of his nose. He had to clear his voice twice before he could speak. His voice sounded rough, clogged, painful. “You fucking bitch! I am going to hurt you so bad for this.”
“When you can stand without help and you’ve got your nose packed at the nearest emergency room, give me a call. I’d love a rematch.”
He spat in my general direction but didn’t have the aim, so it splattered harmlessly onto the floor. Gross, but not very effective.
“Come on,” Harold said. He was trying to move the show towards the door. The sirens were very close now.
But Russell wasn’t finished. He turned, forcing the other two to turn with him. “I am going to fuck your bitch, and leave the girl and boy for the coyotes.”
“Russell is not a fast learner,” I said.
Becca was crying now, and Donna was so pale, I was worried she was going to faint. I couldn’t turn around enough to see Peter’s face without turning away from the bad guys, so I don’t know what he looked like. But it wasn’t a pretty scene.
The cops spilled in with Harold still trying to get Russell out the door. Edward and I used the confusion to put up our guns. The two uniforms were a little unsure whom to arrest, but the people actually testified to having heard Russell’s threats, and seeing him “menace” us before I hurt him. I’d never seen so much witness cooperation. Most of the time people are deaf and dumb, but having a small, pretty little girl in tears helped people’s memories. Technically, Russell could press assault charges on me, but everyone was jumping over themselves to say that he’d been threatening us. One man claimed he’d seen Russell pull a knife. Amazing how quickly details are added to a story. I could not corroborate the knife, but I had enough witnesses to the threats that I didn’t think I’d be going to jail. Edward pulled out his Ted ID, and the officers knew him by reputation if not by sight. I pulled out my executioner’s license