Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 6-10 - Laurell K. Hamilton [795]
Mickey’s hands tightened on me; the one on my thigh began to massage my leg. I didn’t tell him not to. It’s been my experience that if a man is interested in having sex with you, they hesitate to kill you before they’ve had the sex. This rule is not always true, but more often than not. The trick is to get the man thinking more about sex than violence, so he’s a little confused. We needed a little confusion among our enemies right now.
We were in a wide white hallway that ran the length of the top of the house. There were white doors with silver knobs. Nothing differentiated one door from the other. Simon went to the farthest door, and Mickey followed with me in tow. I could see Deuce following, and Edward just topping the last stairs with Rooster behind him, walking well back out of arm’s or leg’s length. These guys were good. I’d gotten to where I counted on the bad guys not being this good. Even if they were vampires and werewolves they’d be unprofessional. But I’d never been around professional bad guys that were this professional. It cut our options from bad to worse.
Simon opened the door. We were here. We were still alive. The night still had possibilities.
56
MICKEY sat me down near the middle of a very nice Persian rug. He kept an arm around my shoulder, as if it had been his idea to carry me. I gave his arm a squeeze before I stepped away from him. Didn’t want to be slutty, but wanted him hopeful in case it was useful. The room looked like the study of a prosperous academic. There were antique maps framed on the walls. Shelves lined almost every extra space of wall, a lot of books that looked well read and well used. There were books open on the big leather-topped desk with bookmarks in them and sticky notes covered in writing, as if we’d interrupted someone’s research.
A man sat behind the desk. He was a big man, both tall and wide. Not fat exactly but headed that way. He rose from his chair with a smile and walked towards us, hand outstretched. He moved with a confident, easy stride, like an ex-athlete going soft with normal living. His dark hair was cut very short and mostly bald on top. His hands were big, and the new weight showed in the hands where a college ring was beginning to cut into his flesh. He had calluses on his hands like he wasn’t afraid to do the real work himself, but the calluses were losing that hard edge, softening, smoothing back into his skin. He’d probably done some of his dirty work once, but no more.
He gripped my hand with both of his, when one of his hands could have swallowed both of mine. “So glad you’re here, Ms. Blake.” He said it like I’d been invited instead of blackmailed.
“I’m glad one of us is glad I’m here,” I said.
The smile widened, and he let my hand go. “I am sorry for our little theatrics. Simon called up and said he thought Mickey had broken your neck. So happy that he exaggerated.”
“Not by much, Mr. Riker.”
“Are you feeling well enough to do the spell? We could have some tea first, let you rest.”
I managed a smile. “I am grateful that we’re being all civilized, and coffee would be great, but where are the children?”
His eyes flicked past me to Edward. He still had his hands clasped on top of his hat, but at least they hadn’t made him kneel again. “Ah, yes, the children.”
I didn’t like the way he said it, like it was going to be bad news.
“Where are they?” Edward asked, and Rooster hit him in the back with the gun again. It staggered him, and he had to wait for it to pass before he straightened up. His hands never left his head, as if he knew they were looking for an excuse to hurt him again.
“You promised us that they wouldn’t be harmed,” I said.
“You were late,” Riker said.
“No,” Edward said.
“Don’t,” I said, as Rooster raised his arm back for another blow. He did it anyway. Fuck. I turned back to Riker. “Every cruel thing you do helps convince me that you have