Blood Noir - Laurell K. Hamilton [136]
I smelled jasmine.
Jason grabbed my arm. “I smell perfume.”
The moment he touched me the scent of jasmine faded, like perfume when you come into a room, and the woman who wore it has just left. Some women are like that; just their scent can make you walk from room to room until you put a face and body with that perfume. I shook my head, and tried to shake the thought with it. That didn’t sound like my thought.
I looked at Jason, with his hand still on my arm. “Who wore perfume that you liked so much that you followed her from room to room?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, and then a look came over his face. He seemed to be staring at something in the room, but his eyes said he was seeing a memory. That look of staring at far, far away things filled his blue gaze.
“There was a woman when I was in high school. She was the first crush I had who wore expensive perfume. It lingered on the air, delicate, just a hint, so you could follow her through the school.”
I touched his arm. “I thought just now about that very thing. About how a woman’s perfume could lead you from room to room. It had to be some crush for me to get that image so clearly from you.”
He looked at me then, rather than the memory in his head. “You know that night that my sister Bobbi swears she saw me having sex with a man?”
“I remember the argument.”
“I was with that crush. She was married, and my teacher. I promised her I’d never tell, and I never have.”
“How old were you?”
He smiled, somewhere between his grin and something wistful. “Legal, but barely. She waited until I was legal.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. When I was in high school it would never have occurred to me to approach a teacher. They simply did not exist for me as sexual objects. The taboo was too great. I was in college before I found a teacher who made me, even fleetingly, think of crossing that line.
“So you can prove it wasn’t you that your sister saw, but not without ruining the life and reputation of this woman.”
He nodded.
Ironic, I thought.
“Ironic is one word for it,” he said.
I stared at him. “You do know that I didn’t say ironic out loud, right?”
Jason looked startled. “I heard it.”
“I only thought it, Jason.”
We looked at each other. “Do I apologize?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, let’s just finish getting dressed and see if the hospital will let us see your dad.”
He stood, and we both kept holding on to each other’s arms as we stood, so it was anyone’s guess who helped who stand.
“I guess it is past visiting hours, but Anita, we need to go home. We need St. Louis, and Jean-Claude, while we do this new metaphysical stuff, but I can’t go until we see my dad again.”
“Agreed.” I let go of him, and we stepped apart. I stood still, I think waiting to see if I smelled jasmine again.
“Okay?” he asked.
I nodded and reached up to the gold chain around my neck. I slid the charm onto the chain so that the cross and the charm both touched my skin. There, that was better. It was like I could breathe a little easier. I reached for the T-shirt I’d put on the bed and slipped it on. I was in the process of putting it on when there was a knock at the door.
We looked at each other. He shrugged. I picked my gun up off the bed and walked to the door. I looked through the peephole and found yet another pair of the suited guards with the addition of two of the hotel security guys in their blazers.
“Security,” I said, and looked back at Jason.
A man’s voice called, “Mr. Schuyler, there’s been a problem.”
I opened the door. The suited guard was Rowe. “What’s up, Rowe?” I asked.
He looked way too serious for comfort. “The room has been compromised. We need to move you.”
“Compromised how?”
“The vampires who are looking for Keith Summerland have been given this room number. We need to make sure neither of you is here when the vampires arrive.”
I wanted to argue, but there was something about how serious he was, and how serious all the security had been, that made me decide to argue later. There was always time