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Standing there in my three-inch heels on the slightly uneven road was making me feel light-headed again. I did not have the patience, or the strength, to debate.

“Officer Jenkins, I am a federal marshal, do you know what that means?”

“Nope,” he said, making the word longer than it was.

“It means that I don’t need your permission to enter this crime scene. I don’t need anybody’s permission. So it doesn’t matter if the lieutenant is here or not. I told you who alerted me to this crime out of courtesy, but if you don’t want to be courteous, officer, then we don’t have to be.”

I turned and looked at Jason. Normally, I would have left him at the car, but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure I could make it up the rest of the hill without falling over. I genuinely didn’t feel well enough to be here. But here I was, and I was going to see this crime scene.

I motioned Jason to me. He came around the Jeep, his smile fading around the edges. Maybe I looked as pale as I felt.

“Let’s go.”

“He’s not a fed,” Jenkins said.

I’d had enough of Jenkins. If I’d been feeling better I would have bullied our way through, but . . . there were other ways to bully.

I waited until Jason was there to steady me, then I moved my hair to one side showing the white gauze and tape on my own neck. I pulled on one side of the tape until it peeled down, and I could flash the bite at Jenkins. It wasn’t a neat puncture wound. Asher had gotten carried away, because the edges of the wounds were torn.

“Shiiit,” Jenkins said.

I let Jason tape the wound back up, while I talked to the other man. “I have had a hard night, Officer Jenkins, and I have the authority to go into any preternaturally related crime scene that I see fit to enter.”

The tape was smoothed back into place, and Jason was standing very close to my left arm, as if he knew how unsteady I was feeling. Jenkins didn’t seem to notice.

“It isn’t a vampire attack,” Jenkins said.

“Am I not speaking English here, Jenkins? Did I say it had anything to do with vampires?”

“No, sir, I mean . . . no.”

“Then either escort us to the crime scene, officer, or step aside and we’ll find our own way.”

Flashing the vampire bite had thrown him, but he still didn’t want a fed messing with his crime. Probably his boss wouldn’t like it, but that wasn’t my problem. I had a federal badge. In theory, I had the right to the crime scene. In actuality, if the local police barred my way there wasn’t much I could do. I could go get a court order and force the issue, but that would take time, and I didn’t have that kind of time. Dolph was already pissed at me. I didn’t want to keep him waiting that long.

Jenkins finally stepped aside. We started walking up the hill. I had to take Jason’s arm about halfway up. My goal in life for that moment was not to fall down, throw up, or faint, while Jenkins was still puzzling over whether he’d done the right thing letting us get past him.

17

MY BADGE ON its little cord around my neck got us past most of the cops. The few that questioned us recognized my name, or had worked with me before. Always good to be known. They questioned Jason’s presence. I finally told them that I’d deputized him.

A big statie, with shoulders wider than either of us was tall, said, “I’ve heard it called a lot of things, but deputy isn’t one of ’em.”

I turned on him, slowly, because I couldn’t move fast, and the very slowness of the turn helped the menace. It’s hard to be menacing to someone when you barely reach their waist, but I have had lots of practice.

Jason must have been afraid of what I’d say, because he said, “You’re just jealous.”

The big man shook his head in his Smokey the bear hat. “I like my women bigger.”

“Funny,” I said, “that’s what your wife says.”

It took him a minute to get it, then he unfolded those beefy arms and took a step towards us. “Why you . . .”

“Trooper Kennedy,” a voice said from behind us, “don’t you have some speeders to go catch?”

I turned to see Zerbrowski walking