Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 6-10 - Laurell K. Hamilton [962]
The other wereleopards glided out of the trees, trailed down the road. Merle’s hair gleamed white in the darkness, his beard and mustache silvered. He was wearing straight-legged jeans and cowboy boots with silver-tipped toes. An open leather jacket did more to frame his chest than cover it. He had a woman with him.
She was tall—six feet or maybe a little over. She was wearing jogging shoes, jeans, and a baggy T-shirt that hung to mid-thigh. The baggy T-shirt couldn’t hide the fact that she was leggy and well built. Her hair was almost black, straight, thick, cut just above her shoulders. She wore no makeup, and the bones of her face made her look sculpted—almost harsh. Her eyes were pale, her lips, thin. She had one of those faces that would have been beautiful with a little makeup, but was still striking. It was a face you wouldn’t forget or grow tired of. Merle was holding her hand, but not like they were a couple, more like a father holds a daughter’s hand—a comforting gesture.
She vibrated with that otherworldly energy that all the leopards had to some degree. But this one made my skin dance from yards away. When they got close enough for me to see that her eyes were pale, I could also see that she was afraid. Her eyes had that wincing look of a person who’s been abused once too often.
Merle introduced her, “This is Gina.”
“Hi, Gina,” I said.
She looked at me, and the fear in her eyes was replaced by disdain. “She’s a little short for a Nimir-Ra.”
“Micah and I are the same height,” I said.
She shrugged. “Like I said.” But her bravado didn’t ring true. It was more like someone whistling in the dark. But I let it go. Gina wasn’t my problem tonight.
Vivian was the last of my leopards, and she came alone down the street. She was one of the few women who made me feel protective and made me think of adjectives like doll-like and delicate. She was simply one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen, and the casual shorts and striped tank top with sandals couldn’t hide that. She was African-American by way of Ireland, and her skin was that flawless pale cocoa shade that you only get with that particular mixture. She looked sort of lost, and I realized why. I hadn’t seen her without Stephen at her side in over a year. Stephen was Gregory’s identical twin, also a stripper at Guilty Pleasures. Stephen and Vivian were living together and seemed very happy doing it. But Stephen was at the lupanar tonight like all good werewolves, and she was here with the leopards. Poor Vivian. Poor Stephen. I hadn’t really thought until that moment that Stephen might lose a brother tonight. Shit.
Vivian dropped to her knees in front of me, and I offered her my hands. She took them in her hands, then rubbed her face against them, as Cherry and Zane had done. Elizabeth hadn’t offered a greeting, and it was an insult. The others weren’t my leopards, but she was. And she’d deliberately snubbed me. It was the first time in front of company. I didn’t usually insist on it, because I didn’t like Elizabeth touching me, but I watched Caleb’s face as Vivian rose from her greeting. He’d noticed the oversight.
“How you doing, Vivian?”
“A real Nimir-Ra wouldn’t have to ask,” Elizabeth said.
I squeezed Vivian’s hands and helped her stand. “Are you going to help us rescue Gregory, or just be a big pain in the ass?” I asked Elizabeth.
“I want Gregory safe,” she said.
“Then shut the fuck up.”
She started to say something, and Cherry gripped her arm. “That’s enough, Elizabeth.”
“You’re not dominant to me,” Elizabeth said.
“I’m trying to be your friend,” Cherry said.
“You want me to leave her alone?”
“Please,” Cherry said.
“Fine,” Elizabeth said.