Read Online Anita Blake 20 - Hit List by Laurell K. Hamilton - Free Book Online
Authors: Laurell K. Hamilton
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small-town girl who isn’t sure she should be doing all this.”
I scowled at him. “Should I be insulted?”
“No, it’s part of your charm that no matter how many men you have in your life, you never quite get comfortable with it.”
I scowled harder. “Why is it charming?”
He shrugged. “Not sure, but it’s very you.”
I frowned at him. “And being all mysterious and vague is very you.”
The grin faded a little, to almost his normal smile. It was a colder smile.
I had a thought. “What would you have done if I’d said that I’d need to feed theardeur when I woke up?”
He lay down, spilling the sheet over him. I already had the sheet over me. He turned and looked at me with the lamp still on. “Dealt with it.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we would have dealt with it.”
“Edward . . .”
“Let it go, Anita,” he said, and then he reached up and turned off the light. And just as he was one of the few people in the world that I would let back me up, he was one of the few that I would let drop this particular topic. He was right; we’d deal with it, the way we dealt with everything else.
I lay on my back in the dark. He was doing the same. “Edward,” I asked.
“Hmm,” he said.
“Are you a side sleeper, or a back sleeper?”
“Back.”
“I’m a side sleeper, so no spooning, I guess.”
“What?”
I laughed and turned over on my side. “Good night, Edward.”
“Good night, Anita.”
We slept.
7
I WOKE TO country music and my arm flung over someone’s stomach. That someone was wearing a T-shirt; no one I slept with wore clothes to bed. I felt that someone move as he rose up and said, “Yes, morning.”
The moment I heard his voice I knew it was Edward, and the night came flooding back. Without rising up, I said, “Who is it? Is it another murder?”
“It’s Donna,” he said.
That made me lift my head and blink at him. It also made me take my arm off his stomach and scootch a little back from him so we weren’t touching, as if his fiancée could see as well as hear us.
“It’s Anita,” he said.
Donna’s voice was suddenly loud enough for me to hear it. “What’s she doing waking up beside you?”
“There was only one bed.”
I buried my face in the pillow. That was so not the answer he should have given.
“Hold on,” he said, and he used his phone to take a picture of the mattress and box springs against the window. “I’m sending you a picture that shows what happened to the other bed.”
“This better be good,” she said, voice still loud with anger.
I glanced at Edward’s calm face as he listened to her angry breathing. A few minutes later she asked, “Why is the bed in front of the window?”
“So that if the vampires and wereanimals we’re hunting tried to break in, the bed would slow them down enough for us to start shooting.”
“What happened?” she asked, but her voice was already calmer.
“Anita and another marshal were attacked last night. The other woman is in the hospital. I didn’t trust anyone else to guard Anita but me.”
“Of course not, you’re the best at what you do.” Her voice got soft enough I couldn’t hear her side of the conversation.
Edward handed the phone toward me, saying, “Donna wants to talk to you.”
I shook my head vigorously,No .
He gave me the hard look, which let me know I wasn’t going to win this fight. I took the phone carefully and tried for cheerful, or at least not nervous, as I said, “Hey, Donna.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“How badly was the other marshal hurt?”
“She’ll live. She’ll heal, but we’re still waiting to find out if she’s got lycanthropy.”
“It was a shapeshifter?” And I could hear the fear in her voice.
I cursed myself for being careless. Donna’s first husband had been murdered in front of her by a werewolf. Peter, who was then only eight, had picked up his father’s dropped gun and killed the werewolf,
I scowled at him. “Should I be insulted?”
“No, it’s part of your charm that no matter how many men you have in your life, you never quite get comfortable with it.”
I scowled harder. “Why is it charming?”
He shrugged. “Not sure, but it’s very you.”
I frowned at him. “And being all mysterious and vague is very you.”
The grin faded a little, to almost his normal smile. It was a colder smile.
I had a thought. “What would you have done if I’d said that I’d need to feed theardeur when I woke up?”
He lay down, spilling the sheet over him. I already had the sheet over me. He turned and looked at me with the lamp still on. “Dealt with it.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we would have dealt with it.”
“Edward . . .”
“Let it go, Anita,” he said, and then he reached up and turned off the light. And just as he was one of the few people in the world that I would let back me up, he was one of the few that I would let drop this particular topic. He was right; we’d deal with it, the way we dealt with everything else.
I lay on my back in the dark. He was doing the same. “Edward,” I asked.
“Hmm,” he said.
“Are you a side sleeper, or a back sleeper?”
“Back.”
“I’m a side sleeper, so no spooning, I guess.”
“What?”
I laughed and turned over on my side. “Good night, Edward.”
“Good night, Anita.”
We slept.
7
I WOKE TO country music and my arm flung over someone’s stomach. That someone was wearing a T-shirt; no one I slept with wore clothes to bed. I felt that someone move as he rose up and said, “Yes, morning.”
The moment I heard his voice I knew it was Edward, and the night came flooding back. Without rising up, I said, “Who is it? Is it another murder?”
“It’s Donna,” he said.
That made me lift my head and blink at him. It also made me take my arm off his stomach and scootch a little back from him so we weren’t touching, as if his fiancée could see as well as hear us.
“It’s Anita,” he said.
Donna’s voice was suddenly loud enough for me to hear it. “What’s she doing waking up beside you?”
“There was only one bed.”
I buried my face in the pillow. That was so not the answer he should have given.
“Hold on,” he said, and he used his phone to take a picture of the mattress and box springs against the window. “I’m sending you a picture that shows what happened to the other bed.”
“This better be good,” she said, voice still loud with anger.
I glanced at Edward’s calm face as he listened to her angry breathing. A few minutes later she asked, “Why is the bed in front of the window?”
“So that if the vampires and wereanimals we’re hunting tried to break in, the bed would slow them down enough for us to start shooting.”
“What happened?” she asked, but her voice was already calmer.
“Anita and another marshal were attacked last night. The other woman is in the hospital. I didn’t trust anyone else to guard Anita but me.”
“Of course not, you’re the best at what you do.” Her voice got soft enough I couldn’t hear her side of the conversation.
Edward handed the phone toward me, saying, “Donna wants to talk to you.”
I shook my head vigorously,No .
He gave me the hard look, which let me know I wasn’t going to win this fight. I took the phone carefully and tried for cheerful, or at least not nervous, as I said, “Hey, Donna.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“How badly was the other marshal hurt?”
“She’ll live. She’ll heal, but we’re still waiting to find out if she’s got lycanthropy.”
“It was a shapeshifter?” And I could hear the fear in her voice.
I cursed myself for being careless. Donna’s first husband had been murdered in front of her by a werewolf. Peter, who was then only eight, had picked up his father’s dropped gun and killed the werewolf,
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