Hit List - Laurell K. Hamilton [118]
Thaddeus led the way with the male lion beside him. Lisandro insisted on going next and putting me between him and the female lion. I didn’t waste time arguing. We just needed to get the others and get the fuck out of Dodge.
The door we wanted was nearly at the bend of the corridor, so the lion, whom I was still calling Thing One in my head, drew a gun and glanced around that blind curve. He didn’t startle or wave us off, so apparently no nasty surprises were up ahead. Good.
Thaddeus unbolted the door. It opened almost noiselessly. He said something harsh in a language I didn’t speak, and in English said, “They are not here.”
I tried to peer around the broad shoulders and cloak, but Lisandro was actually taller and looked over his head. “Shit,” he said.
I realized I’d never asked who they had. I understood in that moment that I’d been afraid to ask, because part of me didn’t want to know who they had as hostages. I was pretty sure it was Bernardo, because he’d had the coffee just like Lisandro and me, but Nicky and Olaf hadn’t. I hadn’t asked if they were captured, or dead. Having Olaf die in the line of duty would solve so many problems, but he was a good man in a fight and he was a fellow marshal. I couldn’t wish him dead. I admitted to myself that it was Nicky that bothered me most. Bernardo was a friend, but more a work friend. I’d be sorry, but my life would go on. Nicky dead would seriously change my day-to-day life. If he’d been my lion to call his death would have hurt me, and I’d have known, but Brides of vampires are often cannon fodder, the vampires that are left behind to delay the hunters while the masters get away. If you have the vampire ability to make brides, you can always make more. Most masters knew better than to fall in love with the cannon fodder.
“Who got captured with you?” I asked Lisandro.
“I came to with just Bernardo and a guy I didn’t recognize.”
“What about Nicky and Olaf?” I asked, and I forgot to use Olaf’s “marshal” name. In that moment, I didn’t try to correct it. I’d learned when accidentally giving away someone’s alias that just ignoring the mistake attracts less attention than repeating and correcting. Most people edit what they hear to match what they expect to hear anyway.
“I passed out when you did, Anita.”
“Shit,” I said. “Thaddeus.”
He turned and gave me those serious green eyes in their mask. “While I fetched weapons they moved your friends. I have failed you.”
“Who’s the man that Lisandro didn’t know, and what happened to the other two men with us?”
“The red tiger mongrel that you made your lover,” he said.
“Ethan?”
“I believe that is his name.”
“I’ve only slept with Ethan once.”
“You have a reputation for bonding very closely with your lovers after very little contact.”
“How did you get him out of the red tiger’s lair?”
“Our spy knew a way to get him to come to us.”
“Good ol’ George,” I said.
“That is one of his aliases.”
I wanted to argue, but wasn’t sure I could, so I pushed the thought away. I’d look at it later. I didn’t ask again about Nicky and Olaf either. If they were dead, there was nothing I could do, and there’d be plenty of time for mourning. Right now, I needed to get us out alive without being possessed by Marmee Noir; until those two goals were reached nothing else really mattered. I told myself that and almost believed it.
“Fine, where would they take them?” I asked.
Then a voice called from ahead, “Anita, we have your lovers; if you do not throw down your weapons and surrender we will begin cutting pieces off them.” It was Harley; great.
I didn’t answer him. I believed he’d do it, but I also believed he just wanted to hold us here in this corridor until nightfall. All he had to do