Laurell Hamilton - Hit List

He was quiet for a few breaths. “We’re going in.”

“We’re almost there, I swear.”

“If the thing that hurt Karlton is in there, the two of you won’t make that big a difference, Blake.”

“You’d be surprised,” I said.

“What can you do that we can’t?”

I didn’t know what to say to that, but finally settled on, “I can sense wereanimals and vampires sometimes.”

“So can the psychic,” he said.

“But can she shoot them?” I asked.

He gave a small chuckle. “Probably not. We’re going in.”

“Tilford, please wait.”

Edward half-yelled, “We’re almost there!” The SUV skittered around a corner and then Edward slammed on the brakes so hard that only my braced leg and the desperate grip on the oh-shit handle kept me from kissing the dashboard.

“What the fuck, Ed . . . Ted?”

“What’s wrong?” Tilford asked.

“There’s a truck in the middle of the road,” I said.

“A wreck?” Tilford asked.

The truck was upside down, the cab partially crushed, some of the windows broken as if it had flipped. “Yeah.”

“Any injured?”

Edward and I kept staring at the truck. “No one we can see,” I said.

“If there’s injuries we can have one of the locals call it in,” Tilford said.

Edward’s hand was on the door handle, but he wasn’t getting out. I touched his arm. “We’ll call you back,” I said, and handed Edward his phone. He put it away, and we looked at the wreck, and then we both started looking around at the trees so close to the road.

“The truck doesn’t look right,” I said.

“There isn’t room to flip a truck that size on this road,” Edward said. “It should be in the trees, maybe on its side, but there’s no way to flip it.”

“Yeah,” I said.

I undid my seatbelt. Edward’s was already undone. I moved the MP5 around on its sling so it was in my hands and ready. Edward had his FN P90 in his hands. But he dropped one hand off to sort of caress the M4 where it sat against his leg.

“Debating between guns?” I asked, as I scanned the trees on my side.

“The P90 from the car, but once we hit the woods I’ll switch to the M4.” I knew without turning around that he was scanning his side of the road.

“Mine’s still at the gun shop being modified,” I said. All I could see was trees, lots of trees.

“I’d have done it for you,” he said.

“You’re in New Mexico; it’s a little far to go for gun repair,” I said.

“I thought you said it was being modified, not repaired.”

“Yeah.”

“You getting the specs I suggested?” he asked; his voice had gone very quiet.

“Yeah,” I said, and my voice was doing the same thing. We were talking, but we were also listening. You always did that, even though with wereanimals our most likely bad guy we’d probably never hear them coming. You still strain for it, and try to listen; all the while your eyes are almost hurting because you’re looking so hard. I tried to let my gaze relax and just look for movement, just look for anything that didn’t look like trees. I needed a shape that was out of place.

“I don’t see anything,” Edward said, finally.

“Me either,” I said.

“Did they do this to keep us from going in with the other marshals, or is this an ambush just for us?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Three choices,” he said.

I kept scanning the trees. The shadows were thick in them. We were maybe an hour and a half from full dark. I said, “We get out and hike to join the hunt, or we stay put, or we back up and get out of here.”

“Yep,” he said, and I didn’t have to turn around to know he was scanning his section as hard as I was scanning mine.

“Can’t just stay put,” I said.

“No,” he said.

“Either they’re going to jump us the minute we get away from our truck, or they’ll wait until we start hiking through the woods toward the other marshals.”

“That’s what I’d do,” he said.

“Shit,” I said.

“There are moments when I hate the fact we carry badges,” he said.

“Because otherwise we could just back up and try to leave,” I said.

“Something like that,” he said.

I had a thought. “What if we back up like we are leaving?”

“You mean that if they think we’re running, it will force them to show themselves.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Good idea.” I felt him turn in the seat, but he said, “I’d rather you drive and I shoot, actually.”

“I would have had us in the ditch two or three times, Edward. I can shoot, but you’re a better driver. The question is, are we actually driving, or is it all about shooting?”

“Are you admitting I’m a better shot?”

“From a distance, with a rifle, you are.”

“Belt yourself in; this isn’t about distance, and we may need to drive.”

I did what he said, and was now trying to keep my attention on the entire area. Which wasn’t possible, but Edward had to drive, so I’d do my best. I actually put one knee in the seat, raising myself up and trying to steady myself as I scanned the road, the woods on either side.

“Behind us, Anita, make sure they don’t cut us off.”

I did what he said, but I said, “We’re not really leaving, right?”

“We have to make it look good,” he said.

I couldn’t argue with that, but I didn’t want to leave our fellow police on their own in the shadow-filled woods. I did my best to keep an eye on everything as he backed up, at a speed that I wouldn’t have even attempted on this road, especially going backward. I put a hand on the headrest to steady myself and the MP5, because it would be a bitch to fall and accidentally shoot Edward. I’d never tried to aim and keep watch on this much area, while the vehicle I was in was speeding backward down a narrow road. My pulse was in my throat, and a little voice screamed in my head, There’s too much. I can’t keep an eye on it all . I shoved the doubts away and held on, and just had to believe that if the time came I’d be able to shoot the bad guys.

I saw movement to the right, but to aim I had to come to my knees in the seat. The seatbelt was around my legs and officially useless. I prayed that Edward wouldn’t have to slam on the brakes, and wrapped one arm around the headrest to help steady me and the gun. Whatever I’d seen was gone. There was nothing but trees, and the road, and a fallen tree in the middle of the road. It took me a blink to realize what I’d seen, and then I yelled, “Tree in the road!”

Edward slammed on the brakes. I clung to the seat desperately, no longer worried about shooting, just about not going through the windshield. The car skidded to a stop and we had that second of breathless silence while the blood roared in our ears, and the body feels too full of blood, as if the adrenaline makes everything feel like more.

Edward said, “That wasn’t there five minutes ago.”

“I know,” I said. I was back to aiming the gun again, trying to find something to shoot. “We’re boxed in, now what?” I asked, cheek snugged up against the MP5.

“It’s an ambush,” Edward said. “The best cover we have is the car, so we stay put. We make them force us out into the open.”

I undid my seatbelt so it didn’t tangle my legs as I sat back down. “They’ve used swords up to this point; let’s hope they don’t go all modern on our asses.”

“Agreed.” He got his phone out as he continued to scan the area. He answered my look. “I’m calling Tilford, because if this is a trap for you then it’s a trap for all of us, and you’re the only one they want alive.”

I realized he was right; they wanted me alive, and that was that. “Shit, Edward.”