Guilty Pleasures - Laurell K. Hamilton [80]
Willie eased back on the gas. He grinned at me. “We made it.”
“Yeah.” I smiled back at him, but I wasn’t so sure.
Blood was dripping down Phillip’s face in a nice steady flow. He voiced my thoughts. “Safe, but for how long?” He sounded as tired as I felt.
I patted his arm. “Everything will be all right, Phillip.”
He looked at me. His face seemed older than it had, tired. “You don’t believe that any more than I do.”
What could I say? He was right.
30
I CLICKED ON the safety of my gun and struggled into a seat belt. Phillip slumped down into the seat, long legs spreadeagled on either side of the floorboard hump. His eyes were closed.
“Where to?” Willie asked.
Good question. I wanted to go home and go to sleep, but . . . “Phillip’s face needs patching up.”
“You wanna take him to a hospital?”
“I’m all right,” Phillip said. His voice was low and strange.
“You aren’t all right,” I said.
He opened his eyes and turned to look at me. The blood had run down his neck, a dark, glistening stream that shone in the flashes of the streetlights. “You were hurt a lot worse last night,” he said.
I looked away from him, out the window. I didn’t know what to say. “I’m all right now.”
“I’ll be all right, too.”
I looked back at him. He was staring at me. I couldn’t read the expression on his face, and wanted to. “What are you thinking, Phillip?”
He turned his head to stare straight ahead. His face was all silhouette and shadows. “That I stood up to the master. I did it. I did it!” His voice held a fierce warmth with the last. Fierce pride.
“You were very brave,” I said.
“I was, wasn’t I?”
I smiled and nodded. “Yes.”
“I hate ta interrupt you two, but I need ta know where to drive this thing,” Willie said.
“Drop me back at Guilty Pleasures,” Phillip said.
“You should see a doc.”
“They’ll take care of me at the club.”
“Ya sure?”
He nodded, then winced and turned to me. “You wanted to know who was giving me orders. It was Nikolaos. You were right. That first day. She wanted me to seduce you.” He smiled. It didn’t look right with the blood. “Guess I wasn’t up to the job.”
“Phillip . . .” I said.
“No, it’s all right. You were right about me. I’m sick. No wonder you didn’t want me.”
I glanced over at Willie. He was concentrating on his driving as if his life depended on it. Damn, he was smarter dead than alive.
I took a deep breath and tried to decide what to say. “Phillip . . . The kiss before you . . . bit me.” God, how did I say this? “It was nice.”
He glanced at me, quick, then away. “You mean that?”
“Yes.”
An awkward silence stretched through the car. No sound but the rush of pavement under the wheels. The night flashes of lights, and the isolating darkness.
“Standing up to Nikolaos tonight was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen anybody do. Also one of the stupidest,” I said.
He laughed, abrupt and surprised.
“Don’t ever do it again. I don’t want your death on my hands.”
“It was my choice,” he said.
“No more heroics, okay?”
He glanced at me. “Would you be sorry if I died?”
“Yes.”
“I guess that’s something.”
What did he want me to say? To confess undying love, or something silly like that? How about undying lust? Either one would be a lie. What did he want from me? I almost asked him, but I didn’t. I wasn’t that brave.
31
IT WAS NEARLY three by the time I walked up the stairs to my apartment. All the bruises were aching. My knees, feet, and lower back were a nearly burning grind of pain from the high heels. I wanted a long, hot shower and bed. Maybe if I were lucky I could actually get eight uninterrupted hours of sleep. Of course, I wouldn’t bet on it.
I got my keys in one hand and gun in the other. I held the gun at my side, just in case a neighbor should open his or her door unexpectedly. Nothing to fear, folks, just your friendly neighborhood animator. Right.
For the first time in far too long my door was just the way I left it: locked. Thank you, God. I was not in the mood to play cops and robbers this very early morning.
I kicked off my shoes just