Obsidian Butterfly - Laurell K. Hamilton [28]
“Not sure about what?” I asked.
“Who’s tougher. Remember, I didn’t make it through the whole room either.”
I stared at him. “Fine, you want to go one on one, great, but not now. We are supposed to be solving a case. We are supposed to be making sure that what happened to those people doesn’t happen to anyone else. When we’re back on our own time, then you can get competitive. Until we solve this, cut it the fuck out, or you are going to seriously piss me off.”
Edward got slowly to his feet. I backed away out of reach. I’d never seen him use martial arts before, but I put nothing past him.
A sound made me back up farther until I could see Edward and Marks without looking away from Edward. Marks was making a small sniggering sound. It took me a moment to realize he was laughing, laughing so hard his face was purplish and he seemed to be having trouble breathing.
Edward and I both stared at him.
When Marks could finally talk, he said, “You kick a man in the face, and that’s not seriously pissed off.” He straightened, hand to his side like he had a stitch in it. “What the fuck do you call seriously pissed?”
I felt my face going blank, my eyes going empty. For just an instant I let Marks see the gaping hole where my conscience was supposed to be. I didn’t really mean to, but I couldn’t seem to help it. Maybe I was more shaken up from the room and its survivors than I thought. It’s the only excuse I can give.
Marks’ face went from fading laughter to something like concern. He gave me cop eyes, but underneath that was an uncertainty that was almost fear.
“Smile, Lieutenant. It’s a good day. No one died.”
I watched the thought spill through his face. He understood exactly what I meant. You should never even hint to the police that you’re willing to kill, but I was tired, and I still had to go back into the room. Fuck it.
Edward spoke in his own voice, low and empty, “And you wonder why I compete with you?”
I turned eyes that I knew were just as dead as his to meet his gaze. I shook my head. “I don’t wonder why you compete with me . . . Ted. I just told you to stop doing it until the case is solved.”
“And then?” he asked.
“Then we’ll see, won’t we?”
I didn’t see fear on Edward’s face. I saw anticipation. And that was the difference between us. He enjoyed killing. I didn’t. What really scared me was the thought that that might be the only difference between us now. It wasn’t enough of a difference for me to throw stones in Edward’s direction. I still had more rules than Edward did. There were still things that he would do that I wouldn’t, but even that list had been growing shorter of late. There was something close to panic fluttering in my stomach. Not fear of Edward or anything he could do, but wondering when I’d turned the corner and become just another monster. I’d told Doctor Evans we were the good guys, but if Edward and I were on the side of the angels, then what was left to be on the other side?
Something that could skin a person alive without using a tool of any kind. Something that would jerk the penis off a man and the breasts off a woman with its bare hands. As bad as Edward was, as bad as I’d become, there were worse things. And we were about to go hunting one of them.
8
I DID GO BACK into the room, and no, I didn’t learn a damn thing from the last three victims. All that wasted bravery for nothing. Well, not exactly for nothing. I proved to myself that I could go back into the room without throwing up or fainting. I didn’t care if it impressed Edward or Marks. It impressed me. If you can’t impress yourself, then no one else really matters.
I either impressed Doctor Evans, or he needed a restorative cup of tea because he invited me back to the doctors and nurses lounge. There’s no such thing as truly undrinkable coffee, but I hoped the tea was better for Evans’ sake. Though I doubted it. The coffee came out of a can, and the tea was from little bags with strings on them. There’s only so much you can hope for from prepackaged tea and coffee. At home I grind my own beans,