Hit List - Laurell K. Hamilton [46]
“No,” he said.
“Then don’t,” I said.
“You know if the rest of them go in, I can’t stay behind.”
“Don’t let them bully Newman, then; protect him, damn it, and protect the rest of them even if it’s from themselves.”
“The other marshals don’t think you and Forrester being here will make that much difference. They’d rather not lose the daylight.”
“Do you believe that less than ten minutes will make that big a difference?” I asked. Edward took a curve and with the phone in one hand I had to brace my leg and hold on to the handle very tightly. I muttered “Jesus” under my breath.
“What’s wrong?” Tilford asked.
“Ted’s trying to cut down on our arrival time. We’ll be there really soon if we don’t go off the road.”
“We won’t go off the road,” Edward said, eyes still on the road as he hit the gas harder, and I tried to pretend I believed him.
“I’d rather have you both with us, but neither of you is exactly everyone’s favorite person right now.”
“Because everyone thinks we slept together?”
“I didn’t say that,” he said.
“Ted said that’s why he lost his street cred with some of the marshals. I know my rep was already trashed.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, which meant it was the truth.
“They’re just jealous,” I said. I fought not to make one of those girly squeak noises as the side of the SUV brushed tree limbs on the side of the road.
“What?” Tilford asked.
“Either they want to know why I won’t sleep with them, or they hate the fact that I fucked someone and I still kill more monsters than they do.”
“I don’t think the first, but the second, maybe.”
“It’s a guy thing, Tilford; it’s not that they really want to sleep with me, it’s just if one guy is, then why not them? It’s just a fucking stupid guy thing.”
He was quiet for a few breaths. “We’re going in.”
“We’re almost there, I swear.”
“If the thing that hurt Karlton is in there, the two of you won’t make that big a difference, Blake.”
“You’d be surprised,” I said.
“What can you do that we can’t?”
I didn’t know what to say to that, but finally settled on, “I can sense wereanimals and vampires sometimes.”
“So can the psychic,” he said.
“But can she shoot them?” I asked.
He gave a small chuckle. “Probably not. We’re going in.”
“Tilford, please wait.”
Edward half-yelled, “We’re almost there!” The SUV skittered around a corner and then Edward slammed on the brakes so hard that only my braced leg and the desperate grip on the oh-shit handle kept me from kissing the dashboard.
“What the fuck, Ed . . . Ted?”
“What’s wrong?” Tilford asked.
“There’s a truck in the middle of the road,” I said.
“A wreck?” Tilford asked.
The truck was upside down, the cab partially crushed, some of the windows broken as if it had flipped. “Yeah.”
“Any injured?”
Edward and I kept staring at the truck. “No one we can see,” I said.
“If there’s injuries we can have one of the locals call it in,” Tilford said.
Edward’s hand was on the door handle, but he wasn’t getting out. I touched his arm. “We’ll call you back,” I said, and handed Edward his phone. He put it away, and we looked at the wreck, and then we both started looking around at the trees so close to the road.
“The truck doesn’t look right,” I said.
“There isn’t room to flip a truck that size on this road,” Edward said. “It should be in the trees, maybe on its side, but there’s no way to flip it.”
“Yeah,” I said.
I undid my seatbelt. Edward’s was already undone. I moved the MP5 around on its sling so it was in my hands and ready. Edward had his FN P90 in his hands. But he dropped one hand off to sort of caress the M4 where it sat against his leg.
“Debating between guns?” I asked, as I scanned the trees on my side.
“The P90 from the car, but once we hit the woods I’ll switch to the M4.” I knew without turning around that he was scanning his side of the road.
“Mine’s still at the gun shop being modified,” I said. All I could see was trees, lots of trees.
“I