Obsidian Butterfly - Laurell K. Hamilton [243]
57
IT WAS ONE of those bathrooms with a double sink separate from the rest of the bathroom. Deuce led me into the little bathroom area, complete with shower. I managed to do some dry heaving, but that was the best I could do, and even that made my head ache. It hurt so much I closed my eyes trying to keep my brains from leaking out through them. If it wasn’t a concussion, it was a hell of an imitation.
Deuce wet a washcloth and gave it to me.
“Thanks.” I put it over my face and tried to think. So far, Deuce hadn’t touched me. Blade was trying to clean up in the sink area, but he’d want the shower soon.
“I loved the look on Blade’s face when you puked on him. It was priceless.”
I put the wash rag to the back of my neck. I was thinking furiously about what was in the purse and what options I had. But my voice was calm, point for me. “Blade? As in the comic book character?”
He nodded. “Yeah, the vampire killer. They both carry knives.”
“And they’re both African American,” I said.
“Yeah.”
I looked into his face, wash cloth that he’d so kindly given me still on my neck. I tried to read behind those pleasant, slightly dreamy, brown eyes, but it was like trying to read Edward. I just couldn’t read between the lines.
“I think that Blade actually used wooden knives and like a cross-bow in the comic books,” I said.
Deuce shrugged. “You’re either very brave, or you don’t think I’ll hurt you.”
“I believe you’ll hurt me, if you want to.”
“Then you’re brave,” he said. He was leaning against the wall, fingers playing lightly with the gun on its sling at his shoulder.
It was my turn to shrug. “Yeah, but it’s not really bravery that’s keeping me calm.”
He looked interested for the first time. “What is?”
“After what I saw being done to Becca and Peter, I just can’t get too excited about myself.”
Blade banged on the door. “We don’t have all night, and I want a shower.”
Deuce and I both jumped when he banged on the door. We shared one of those embarrassed smiles, then he opened the door and ushered me through.
Blade had tried to scrub at his clothes in the sink, but it hadn’t helped. He tried to go through the door, and Deuce stepped in his way. “Riker won’t like you taking a shower.”
“He told me to get cleaned up.”
“Simon told us to keep two people on her. We can’t do that if you’re in the shower.”
Blade looked at me. “I think Simon overestimated her. Anyone that throws up after seeing mild torture like that, I’m not afraid of. Now get out of my way, Deuce.”
Deuce moved to one side, moving just ahead and to one side of him. Blade brushed past us without a word, his anger trailing behind him like a loose coat. He slammed the door behind him.
I went to the sink and rewet the wash cloth. He was watching me in the mirror now. His eyes were still pleasant, but something else had crept in. Something that promised pain, the way the wind can bring the smell of rain against your skin just before it starts to pour.
I started fishing in the purse. “I’ve got some breath stuff in here somewhere.”
“I could lock you in the room with Blade. He strips real pretty, and he’s not very happy with you right now.”
My hand closed on the pen with its hidden blade.
“You really think he could control himself enough to just rape me and not do other damage? Like you said, he’s not very happy with me.”
“You never asked about my nickname,” he said.
The conversation was moving too fast for me. “I assumed it was some kind of card-playing thing.”
He shook his head while I watched him in the mirror. Then he started unzipping his pants. He was too far away to touch me, or for me to fight back. All I could do was wait for him to come to me.
He slipped inside his open fly and lifted himself out in a smooth practiced