Laurell Hamilton - Hit List

“Hey, Laila,” I said, and went toward the bed.

“This is my dad and my brothers.”

“I remember you talking about them, and you vastly underestimated how damn big they all are.” That made everyone smile, which was what I’d hoped for, but I honestly did feel a little dwarfed by the three men. One at a time, fine, but all three were like a crowd of buildings that moved and held out their hands as Laila introduced us.

Her father was Wade Karlton, the older brother was Robert, and the younger was Emmet. Laila called him Em, immediately, as if his whole name were M, but Robert she always called by his full name.

“And this is Russell Jones,” I said, motioning Socrates forward from where he’d waited by the door. Russell was his real name, not the nickname he’d been given when he joined the werehyena group in St. Louis. Their Oba, or leader, gave them names, usually from Greek philosophers or mythological characters. A lot of animal groups had naming conventions for some reason.

Everyone shook hands, but Laila looked a question at me. “Russell used to be a cop,” I said.

She looked from him to me. “Used to be?”

“Until a gangbanger turned out to be a shapeshifter and cut me up.”

She gave him wide eyes, and again there was that shimmer of unshed tears. “You’re a . . .” She just stopped.

“Shapeshifter,” he finished for her.

I felt the three men around me tense, as if his saying it out loud either made it more real or made them feel insecure. They were big guys, used to being big, strong guys, but though Socrates was inches smaller in both height and shoulder width, he was suddenly someone they had to take into account. Shapeshifter meant that you couldn’t just look at him and get a good sense of his physical capabilities. Size wasn’t everything now; it was probably not a thought the Karlton men had to think very often. And then I felt something in their posture, something that made me glance up to see their faces. They looked angry, and the younger brother couldn’t hide that there was fear underneath that anger.

“Jesus, people, you act like Russell is going to shift on the spot and go on a rampage.”

The brothers looked at me and were a little embarrassed, but the father kept his anger and his cool. “It’s nothing personal to Mr. Jones, but he is contaminated with something that turns him into an animal.” I was beginning to realize where some of the problems were coming from for Laila.

I smiled at him. “Mr. Karlton, may I speak with you out in the hallway?”

He looked at Socrates. “I’m not comfortable leaving my children with Mr. Jones.”

“Mr. Jones works with me,” I said. “He’s here to help me catch the person who hurt Laila.”

“It takes a monster to catch a monster,” Wade Karlton said.

“Daddy,” Laila said, “he’s just like me. He’s a cop who got attacked on the job. Do you think I’m a monster, too?”

Wade turned and looked at her, his face stricken. “No, baby, I’d never think that about you.”

“Yes, you do, you won’t even hold my hand.”

He reached out toward her but stopped in midmotion. The pain showed on his face, but he couldn’t make himself touch his daughter. The younger brother, Em, took her hand in both of his, holding her hand up against his body. He glared at his father. His eyes were shiny now, too.

Robert, the older brother, laid his hand on her leg under the sheets, because that was what he could reach. He wouldn’t look at anyone, and I caught the shine of tears as he turned away.

“Mr. Karlton, you need to talk with me out in the hall, now. Russell will talk to Laila.”

“I can’t leave my boys with him.”

That was it, I’d been nice. “Your boys, as if Laila isn’t your girl anymore. She’s not dead, Mr. Karlton, she’s just a shapeshifter. She won’t even change until next month’s full moon. She’s still your daughter. She’s still everything she ever was.”

“But not a U.S. Marshal.” This from Laila.

I turned and looked at her. The first tear trickled down her cheek. “They’re gonna take my badge.”

“Did they say that?” I asked.

She frowned a little. “No, but you know the rules.”

“For regular cops, yes, but for the preternatural branch of the service, they’re a little more flexible.”

“You don’t change shape, Anita, that’s why they haven’t taken yours.”

“Maybe, but I know that until you shift they absolutely cannot take your badge, not without a fight.”

She looked at me. Her younger brother was looking at me now. Robert was wiping at his face with his free hand, the other still on his sister; I think he was too emotional to look at anyone just then.

“You’re a shapeshifter, too?” Em asked.

“No, but I carry lycanthropy. My blood tests come back with it, I just don’t shift.”

“You’ll shift,” Wade said, “you all do.”

“I’ve been like this for two years now. I carry it, it helps me heal, be stronger, but I don’t change shape.”

“Can Laila not change shape?” Em asked.

I shrugged. “She probably will, but until the week of her first full moon she won’t be a danger to anyone.”

“You don’t know that,” Wade said.

I looked up at him, and it was good that I’d had lots of practice staring way up at very tall people and being tough while I did it. I let him see the anger in my eyes, because I was angry with him. He was making a terrible situation even worse for his daughter. Fathers weren’t supposed to make things worse.

“I do know that,” I said. “I’ve lived with two shapeshifters for years now.”

“They gave it to you,” he said, and his tone made it sound liked the bubonic plague or AIDS.

“No, they didn’t. I actually got cut up by a bad guy and a shapeshifter who waded into a fight to save me. The bad guy didn’t mean to contaminate me, he meant to kill me.”

Socrates came up behind me, and I got to see Wade Karlton flinch a little. “My sister felt the same way you do when I got hurt. I haven’t seen my nephews, or her, in five years. Mama and the rest of us miss them.”

Wade looked at Socrates. “You mean you miss your family.”

“No, Mama invited me to the first Thanksgiving after I was hurt. When my sister saw me, she took her kids and left, said she’d never be there if I was there. Said I wasn’t safe, said I was an animal. Mama takes a dim view of anyone badmouthing her children, so I see my family every holiday. I’m the oldest of five. I’ve seen every nephew and niece as a newborn, and been at all the birthday parties, ball games, school plays that I can manage. My one sister stopped coming because she thought I’d be there. Then two years ago her oldest got involved with a gang, and I went down there and helped get him out of it, because gangbangers are just as scared of wereanimals as you are. I made sure the boy got himself straightened out. Last semester he was on the honor roll and it looks like he’s got a shot at a football scholarship to a good college.”

Wade looked at Socrates, and I couldn’t quite read the look, but apparently Socrates could, because he said, “His father was bigger than me, built more like your boys and you.” Socrates grinned, sudden and happy in his dark face. “I’ve seen defensive lines just give up, once he hits them just once.”

“You play ball in high school?”

“In high school. I wasn’t big enough or good enough for college ball, but John is; he’s what his father could have been if he’d had someone to keep him out of the gangs.”

“You knew his father?”

Socrates nodded. “Went to high school with him, but the gangs and the drugs got him.”

The two men looked at each other. I just tried to be quiet and invisible between them, because this moment wasn’t about me, it was just them.