Blood Noir - Laurell K. Hamilton [73]
I was good. I let Chuck get on the elevator. Let the doors close, and said not a word.
Jason squeezed my hand and kissed my cheek.
“What was that for?” I asked.
“For being good. I don’t know why, but Chuck seems to make you want to pick at him.”
“You, too, Mr. Kiss-Me-in-the-Parking-Garage.”
Jason actually looked embarrassed, which I didn’t get to see often. I treasured it for the rare gift it was, and we were left facing Peterson. Him I didn’t want to mess with; he seemed sort of harassed. Or maybe he’d been nice at the hospital and it cut him more slack than Chuck.
Shadwell and Rowe were still with us like good bodyguards. Until Shadwell had gone all serious getting out of the elevator, I’d begun to suspect they were guarding us to make sure we didn’t do anything embarrassing to the Summerlands as much as they were guarding us from the press. But the exit from the elevator had been too real. I could leave Chuck alone, but I needed to know what was up from someone.
“You have about a half hour until the…entertainment arrives.” He said entertainment like it hurt.
“Are you kicking us out then?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I just assumed that Mr. Schuyler would be more comfortable leaving then, but no, I don’t have any orders for when you leave the party, or if.” Again, his voice said he didn’t like it.
Jason said, “I’m sorry if our coming to the party is a problem.”
Peterson looked surprised, but recovered himself. “I think you mean that. You may look like Keith, but you don’t sound like him.”
Shadwell and Rowe stiffened beside me, as if they weren’t used to Peterson being quite that honest.
Jason gave him a bright smile. “That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.”
Not true and I knew it, but it made Peterson smile, and I think that was what Jason wanted. Jason liked everyone to be happy if he could manage it.
The door opened behind us, and a flock of blond women who all looked like Jason’s sisters should have looked swarmed over him, squealing happy cries of “Jason, Jason!” They pulled him into the room, and he went, laughing.
I was left in the hallway with the bodyguards. Peterson looked at me. It was a wondering-what-I’d-do look. Was he worried I’d be jealous? Was that part of why he hadn’t wanted us here?
Rowe stifled a laugh that he tried to turn into a cough.
Shadwell said, in a dry voice, “You really should get something for that cough.”
I smiled at them all. “It’s okay, guys. I’m not going to go all jealous because Jason is flirting and they’re flirting back. I’m cool.”
“No woman is that cool,” Shadwell said.
I smiled and shook my head. “Jason flirts like he breathes. Both will stop only when he’s dead.”
Shadwell said, “You are not his girlfriend, or this would bother you.”
I gave him full eye contact as I said, “He’ll flirt with them, Shadwell, but he’ll be fucking me later.”
His pale eyes flinched, and his face went sort of grim. “You trying to shock me?”
“No, Shadwell, I’m trying to make you understand that if there’s a problem tonight it won’t be me.”
Peterson said, “Enough. I don’t know what is happening with the two of you, but I do not need it tonight. Is that clear, Shadwell?”
Shadwell gave one clear nod.
“Good.” Peterson looked at me. “Ms…. Marshal Blake, do you have an objection to Shadwell and Rowe being inside the room with you for at least the beginning of the party?”
“Okay, that’s it, the civvies are inside the room, with more guards, I assume?”
Peterson just nodded.
“Shadwell and Rowe stayed on our side of the hotel room door. They did a serious exit from the elevator up here. They had a shitload of uniforms downstairs when I insisted on putting my carry-on in the hotel safe. I thought that was to keep the press at bay, but something’s happened. What is it?”
“You may not be a civilian, Marshal Blake, but you aren’t one of us. We can’t—”
“Is the threat against all the Summerlands, just the kids, or is it Keith specifically?”
Rowe and Shadwell exchanged glances. Peterson fought not to look at