Obsidian Butterfly - Laurell K. Hamilton [58]
It was his turn to look uncertain. He stepped back, put the sheet into as much of a cover as it could be, and bowed. It was an old-fashioned, courtly movement, as if he’d done it before and meant it. It was a nice gesture with his hair spilling all around, but I’d seen better. Not for six months, but I had seen better.
He raised up, and his face was solemn. He looked sincere. “There are two kinds of women that hang around with men like Edward, like me, that know what we are. The first are whores, no matter how many guns they own; the second is strictly business. I call them Madonnas because they never sleep with anyone. They try to be one of the guys.” The smile played along his lips again. “Forgive me if I’m disappointed that you’re one of the guys. I’ve been here for two weeks, and I’m getting lonely.”
I shook my head. “Two weeks, poor baby.” I pushed past him and grabbed my overnight case. I looked at Edward. “Next time remind me about everybody’s little foibles.”
He raised his hand in a Boy Scout oath. “I have never seen Bernardo do that with any woman at first meeting her, I swear it.”
My eyes narrowed, but I looked into his eyes, and believed him. “How did I get the honor?”
He picked up my suitcase, and did smile. “You should have seen the look on your face when he came down the steps in the sheet.” He laughed and it was very masculine. “I’ve never seen you that embarrassed.”
Bernardo came up next to us. “I really, honestly, didn’t mean to flash you. I just don’t wear anything to bed so I threw this on.”
“Where’s Olaf?” Edward asked.
“Pouting that you’re bringing her in.”
“Great,” I said. “One of you thinks he’s a Lothario, and the other one won’t talk to me. That’s just perfect.” I turned and followed Edward toward the house.
Bernardo called from behind us. “Don’t mistake Olaf, Anita. He likes women in his bed, and he’s not nearly as particular as I am about how he gets them there. I’d be more careful of him than of me.”
“Edward,” I said.
He was just inside the door. He turned back and looked at me.
“Is Bernardo right? Is Olaf dangerous to me?”
“I can tell him about you what I told him about Donna.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
We were all still in the doorway, not quite in the house. “I told him if he touched her, I’d kill him.”
“If you come to my rescue, then he’ll never work with me, never respect me,” I said.
Edward nodded. “That’s true.”
I sighed. “I’ll handle it on my own.”
Bernardo had moved up behind me, closer than I wanted him. I used the carry-on bag to accidentally move him back a step or two. “Olaf has been in prison for rape.”
I looked at Edward and let my disbelief show on my face. “Is he serious?”
Edward just nodded. His face had gone to its usual blankness. “I told you in the car that I wouldn’t have invited him if I’d known you were coming in on this.”
“But you didn’t mention the rape conviction,” I said.
He shrugged. “I should have.”
“What else should I know about good ol’ Olaf?”
“That’s it.” He looked behind me to Bernardo. “Can you think of anything else she needs to know?”
“Only that he brags about the rape and what he did to her.”
“All right,” I said, “you’ve both made your point. I only have one question.”
Edward just looked at me expectantly. Bernardo said, “Shoot.”
“If I kill another one of your backups, do I owe you another favor?”
“Not if he deserves it.”
I dumped the bag on the doorsill. “Shit, Edward, if you keep putting me together with fucking crazies and I keep having to defend myself, I’ll be owing you favors until we’re in our graves.”
Bernardo said, “You’re serious. You really killed his last backup.”
I glanced at him. “Yeah, I’m serious.