Obsidian Butterfly - Laurell K. Hamilton [17]
“Cicadas?” he asked.
“Yeah, cicadas. The immature form stays in the ground until every thirteen or seven or whatever their cycle is years, they climb out, molt, and become adults. They’re the insects that make all that noise in the summertime.”
“Whatever did those people wasn’t a giant cicada, Anita.”
“That’s not the point, Edward. My point is that there are types of living creatures that stay hidden, almost totally hidden, for years, then resurface. Monsters are still a part of the natural world. Preternatural biology is still biology. So maybe old myths and legends would give us a clue.”
“I didn’t bring you down here to play Nancy Drew,” he said.
“Yes, you did,” I said.
He looked at me long enough to make me want to tell him to watch the road. “What are you talking about?”
“If you just wanted someone to point and shoot, you’d have brought in someone else. You want my expertise, not just my gun. Right?”
He’d turned back to the road, much to my relief. There were small houses on either side, most of them made of adobe, or faux-adobe. I didn’t know enough about it to judge. The yards were small but well tended, running high to cacti and huge lilac bushes with surprisingly small bundles of pale lavender flowers on them. It looked like a different variety from the lilacs in the Midwest. Maybe it took less water.
Silence had filled the car and I let it, watching the scenery. I’d never been to Albuquerque, and I’d play tourist while I could. Edward finally answered me when he turned onto Lomos Street. “You’re right. I didn’t ask you down here just to shoot things. I already have backup for that.”
“Who?” I asked.
“You don’t know them, but you’ll meet them in Santa Fe.”
“We’re driving straight to Santa Fe now? I haven’t eaten yet today. I was sort of hoping to catch some lunch.”
“The latest crime scene is in Albuquerque. We’ll catch it, then lunch.”
“Will I feel like eating afterwards?”
“Maybe.”
“I don’t suppose I could talk you into lunch first then.”
“We’ve got a stop before we hit the house,” he said.
“What other stop?” I asked.
He just gave that small smile, which meant it was going to be a surprise. Edward loved to try my patience.
Maybe he’d answer a different question. “Who’s your other backup?”
“I told you, you don’t know them.”
“You keep saying them. Are you saying that you already have two people for backup, and you still needed to call me in, too?”
He didn’t say anything to that.
“Three people backing you on this. Geez, Edward, you must be desperate.” I’d meant for it to be a joke, sort of. He didn’t take it that way.
“I want this case solved, Anita, whatever it takes.” He looked grim when he said it. So much for my sense of humor.
“Do these two backups owe you a favor?”
“One does.”
“Are they assassins?”
“Sometimes.”
“Bounty hunters like Ted?”
“Bernardo is.”
At least I had a name. “Bernardo is a sometimes assassin and a bounty hunter like Ted. You mean he uses his bounty hunting identity like you use yours as a legal identity?”
“Sometimes he’s a bodyguard, too.”
“A man of many talents,” I said.
“Not really,” he said. Which was a strange thing to say.
“What about the other guy?”
“Olaf.”
“Olaf, okay. He’s sometimes an assassin, not a bounty hunter, not a bodyguard, and what else?”
Edward shook his head.
His noncommittal answers were beginning to get on my nerves. “Do either of them have any other special abilities besides being willing to kill?”
“Yes.”
He’d reached my limit on “yes, no” answers. “I didn’t come down here to play twenty questions, Edward. Just tell me about the other backups.”
“You’ll meet them soon enough.”
“Fine, then tell me where the other stop is.”
He gave a small shake of his head.
“Look, Edward, you’re getting on my nerves, and you’ve already pissed me off, so cut the mysterious crap, and talk to me.”
He glanced sideways at me, a glimpse of eyes from the edges of the dark glasses. “My, my, aren’t we touchy today.”
“This isn’t even close to touchy for me, Edward, and you know it. But keep up the noncommittal crap and you are going to truly