Cerulean Sins - Laurell K. Hamilton [215]
He moved in one of those blurs of speed and grabbed my arm. “Part of me thinks they’re horrifying, just like I’m supposed to, but part of me likes the pictures.” His fingers dug into my arm, bruising. “Part of me just sees fresh meat.” He let a growl trickle out from between his even white teeth.
“I’m sorry you hate what you are, Richard.”
He let go of me so fast, I almost fell. “Take the wolves you need, and get out.”
“If I could wave a magic wand over you and make you human, purely human, I’d do it, Richard.”
He looked at me; his eyes had bled to wolf amber. “I believe you, but there isn’t a magic wand. I am what I am, and nothing will ever change that.”
“I’m sorry, Richard.”
“I’ve decided to live, Anita.”
I looked at him. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“I’ve been trying to die. I’m not going to die anymore. I’m going to live, whatever that means.”
“I’m glad, but I wish you sounded happier about the choice.”
“Go, Anita, you’ve got a murderer to catch.”
I did, and time was not on our side. But I still hated leaving him like this. “I’ll do what I can to help you, Richard, you know that.”
“Like you help all your friends.”
I shook my head, gathered up the folder, and went for the door. “When you want to talk, and not to fight, give me a call, Richard.”
“And when you want to talk, and not catch murderers, you give me a call.”
We left it at that. But I didn’t have time to hold his hand, even if he would have let me. Van Anders was out there, and there were so many people he could hurt. What was a little emotional desolation between friends compared to getting Van Anders off the streets?
60
JASON AND JAMIL stayed in human form, while Norman and Patricia stayed in wolf form. I’d seen Norman in human form before, but I couldn’t put a face on Patricia. She was just a big shaggy wolf, pale, almost white. We had to put the two pony-sized wolves on leashes. Today of all days I did not want the police seeing a giant wolf running loose on the streets. I was thinking they’d be in a shoot-first-ask-questions-later sort of mood.
I’d unzipped the two bags that I’d collected from Van Anders’s rented apartment. The wolves sniffed it, growled, and on the end of leashes, they tracked him from the sidewalk around his apartment building, and all through the city, and finally to a mall.
The police had been watching the airports, the bus stations, the highways. Van Anders was sitting in the freaking food court of Eastfield mall. He’d piled his hair up under a billed cap and added a cheap pair of sunglasses. As disguises went it was okay. Besides, I couldn’t complain, much. I was wearing a billed cap with my hair up under it, and sunglasses. I hate it when the bad guys copy. I was also wearing a baggy T-shirt, and baggy jeans with my Nikes. Short as I was, I looked like a thousand teenagers wandering any mall in America.
I’d deputized Jamil and Jason. They stayed out of sight, but warned me that he’d smell them sooner or later. I’d already flashed my badge at mall security. I’d made the decision that we wouldn’t call the police, and we wouldn’t try to evacuate. I had a court order of execution. I didn’t have to give him a warning. I didn’t have to do anything but kill him.
It was mid-afternoon, so the food court wasn’t too busy. That was good. There was a group of teenagers at the table nearest Van Anders. Why weren’t they in school? At the table next-closest to him was a mother with a baby in a stroller and two toddlers. Two toddlers, neither of them in baby seats, but running free, while she tried to help the baby eat soft-serve yogurt.
Van Anders was still more than fifteen feet from the rampaging toddlers. The teenagers were frightfully close, but I couldn’t figure out how to get them to move. I was working up my nerve to wind my way through the daytime moms and kids, when the teenagers got up, left their trash on the table, and walked away.
Van Anders was as isolated as I was going to get him here in the mall. I wasn’t willing to let him escape again.