Blood Noir - Laurell K. Hamilton [35]
Jason stopped dead in the hallway. His hand clenched around mine. I realized if I could smell that, it would be a hundred times stronger to his nose. Even in human form the wereanimals could smell things humans couldn’t.
The admin stopped and turned. “Your father’s room is just down this way.” She actually motioned as if she were directing us to anywhere. I guess she worked here every day. Maybe you don’t smell it after awhile, or feel it.
Jason squeezed my hand again, gave me a watered-down version of his smile, and nodded. We moved, we followed, we went where she pointed. Jason’s hand was hot against my skin.
16
A WOMAN APPEARED in the corridor just ahead of the admin. The woman wore a soft pink suit and had short blond hair. She was about our height. She turned toward us, and the moment I saw her face I knew she had to be Jason’s mom. The same eyes and hair; the face was different, thinner; a little more pointed chin, but the eyes were like looking into Jason’s eyes. But just like the painting downstairs had filled those eyes with disapproval, her eyes were filled with worry.
She saw Jason, and her face lightened for a moment. Her eyes flicked to me, there was a moment of doubt in her face, and then she came toward us smiling, arms out, but her eyes never quite lost the thought, the clear thought, Is this a good idea? I hoped his mother never played poker, because she would have sucked at it.
He let go of my hand long enough to hug her. She wrapped her arms around him, her hand patting the back of his hair as she broke away from him. She tugged at his suit, putting it back in place as if she’d mussed him.
“You look good,” she said.
Jason nodded, and reached back for me. I came to his hand. “This is Anita Blake. Anita, this is my mom, Iris.”
I shook Iris Schuyler’s hand. It was about the same size as mine. Her handshake was a bare touch, then away, as if she didn’t shake hands much.
“I’m being silly,” she said, and she hugged me. I fought not to be stiff in the embrace. I don’t like being touched by strangers. I also wondered if she’d find the gun, but luckily she hugged like she shook hands: barely. It was a nice awkward hug on both sides. I did my best, and found the suit loose on her frame, as if she’d lost a lot of weight recently.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Schuyler,” I said, as I got to go back to Jason. Unlike his mom, I could lie with the best of them.
“Iris, please, call me Iris.”
“Then you have to call me Anita,” I said.
“Anita,” she said, and she touched me again, on the arm.
I managed to keep my smile, but it was a little strained. God, was his family one of those touchy families? Richard’s family was like that. I’d made peace with the fact that Richard’s mother would hug me, and touch me, but I never liked it. The men behaved better because of the whole sexual taboo thing. But Richard’s mother and his sister were both touchers. Eeeh.
Jason put his arm around my waist and drew me tight in against him. Either he’d picked up my discomfort or his own had gotten worse. Either way, I was okay with it. Jason had permission to touch me.
Jason’s mother took his free hand and led us toward the room she’d come out of. I didn’t like her leading him by the hand like a child. But I let it go; one, I wasn’t really his girlfriend-girlfriend, and two, her husband was dying, so maybe she’d earned the right to hold her son’s hand.
A woman whose hair was almost as black as my own came out of the room. She was tall and broad-shouldered, but still gave the impression of delicacy of bone. She wore jeans and a T-shirt with some sort of slogan on it. She saw us