Burnt Offerings - Laurell K. Hamilton [49]
“Then I will kill you,” Padma said.
“Fine, but that won’t bring back your son, now will it?” I let the breath out of my body and felt that stillness spill through me. “Decide, Beast Master, decide.”
“I am the Master of Beasts,” he said.
“I don’t care if you’re Santa Claus. He lets her go or he dies.”
“Jean-Claude, control your servant.”
“If you can control her, Padma, be my guest. But take great care. Anita never bluffs. She will kill your son.”
“Decide,” I said softly, “decide—decide—decide—decide.” I wanted to shoot him. I really did, because I knew as surely as I was standing there that if I didn’t shoot him now, I’d have to shoot him later. He was too arrogant to leave it alone, too blinded by his own power to leave Hannah alone, and he couldn’t have her. That was a line he could not cross and live.
“Let her go, Fernando,” Padma said.
“Father,” the man sounded shocked.
“She will pull the trigger, Fernando. She wants to pull it. Don’t you, Anita?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Silver bullets, I assume,” Padma said.
“Never leave home without them,” I said.
“Let her go, Fernando. Even I cannot save you from a silver bullet.”
“No, she’s mine. You promised.”
“I’d listen to your dad, Fernando.”
“Do you disobey me, my son?” There was a tone in Padma’s voice that sent a rush of warm air through the room. The beginnings of anger. Something was flung over my skin, a backwash of power, but it wasn’t vampiric power, not exactly. He wasn’t trying to control Jean-Claude. It had a taste of warmer blood, an electric dance that said lycanthrope. Which wasn’t really possible. A vampire can’t be a lycanthrope, and vice versa.
Fernando cringed, clutching Hannah to him like a doll, hiding his face in her yellow hair. “No, Father, I would never disobey you.”
“Then do as I say.”
Fernando flung Hannah backwards. She scrambled to Willie. He took her in his arms, touching the blood on her face, blotting at it with the silken handkerchief.
I lowered the gun.
Fernando pointed a dark hand at me. “Maybe I’ll ask for you to be my pet.”
“Tough talk, rat-boy. Let’s see if you’re man enough to back it up.” I was baiting him. I realized that I wanted him to rush me. I wanted an excuse to kill him. Not good. Not good. I had to calm down or I was going to get us killed.
The black leopard, taller at the shoulders than my waist, started creeping towards me. It was belly to the ground, muscles tensed and rippling. The gun just shifted to it. “Don’t try it.”
“Elizabeth,” Padma said.
The name startled me. I’d seen Elizabeth in human form once, sort of from a distance. She was one of the local wereleopards. I’d assumed, until that moment, that the leopards were part of the entourage that Padma had brought with him. If Elizabeth was local, the other leopard might be, too. The only thing I was sure of was that it wasn’t Zane or Nathaniel. Other than that, it could have been anybody. But Zane acknowledging me as his alpha had saved him from being here. If Zane had been alpha, then beating him would have given me all the leopards, and none of them would have been here. Or that was the theory. With me being merely human and not a lycanthrope, the Master of Beasts might still have called the kitties. But I would have tried to keep them safe. I wondered if Elizabeth had tried.
She snarled at him, at me, at everyone. Her fangs were ivory-white, and at less than ten feet, impressive as hell. This close, even a real leopard might have gotten to me before I could fire a killing shot. You aren’t supposed to hunt big game with a handgun.
The leopard took another belly crawl forward. “Elizabeth.” That one word flung outward burned along my skin and made me gasp. The leopard came up short like she’d hit the end of her leash. She rolled on the floor, struggling, slashing the air.
“She hates you, Anita,” Padma said. His voice was normal now, conversational, but whatever he was doing to the wereleopard was still happening. I could feel it like