Laurell Hamilton - Hit List

I had to say, “Enough.”

He let go of my lip, drawing back so he could see my face. He laughed when he looked down at me. “We forgot your lipstick.”

I blinked at him, and realized he had red lipstick across his lips, and his smile showed lipstick on his teeth. I shook my head smiling, and reached up to touch his lips, trying to rub the scarlet off his mouth.

He laughed a low chuckle. “Yours is worse.” He put his thumb under my lower lip and rubbed at the lipstick I couldn’t see.

“I don’t usually forget the lipstick,” I said, but I was laughing.

“You did miss me,” he said, and he looked entirely too pleased. Lisandro called out, “We can’t keep him back forever.”

Nicky and I looked back at the other men. Lisandro and Bernardo were both in front of Olaf. Bernardo had his hands on Olaf’s upper body, literally holding him back. Olaf wasn’t trying to get past him very hard, but Bernardo’s hands were definitely reminding Olaf to stay where he was, and Lisandro stood there like a sort of secondary defense in case Olaf really did try to get past Bernardo.

But it was the look on Olaf’s face that was frightening. Rage was plain on his face, so much rage. “He’s jealous,” Nicky said.

“Yeah,” I said.

“He’s more jealous of me.” I moved away from him, wondering if that would soften some of the emotion on Olaf’s face. Nicky reached out, took my hand. “Don’t let him bully you, Anita. He’ll take as much control of your life as you let him.”

I let Nicky keep my hand in his now, because he was right. I couldn’t let Olaf’s weird jealousy control me. What I didn’t understand was why he was reacting so badly to Nicky, or had Olaf just reached another level of obsession with me, so that any interaction I had with other men was going to drive him nuts? That would be bad, but if it was just Nicky, then that was a different kind of bad.

I had no idea how to talk Olaf down from what I saw as an insane and undeserved jealousy. He wasn’t my lover, wasn’t a boyfriend, wasn’t even my friend. He had no right to the anger on his face, no right to feel possessive of me, but how do you convince a seven-foot-tall psychopath serial killer that you’re not his love bunny without him trying to kill you, or you having to kill him? I had no idea.

BERNARDO SPLIT US up; he took Olaf, leaving Lisandro to drive Nicky and me. We managed to get into the cars and head to the motel without Olaf losing what was left of his control. In fact, he just suddenly went icily and completely calm. The total change in affect was more chilling than anything else he could have done, because the change of heart couldn’t be real. It was like he’d taken all that rage and just locked it away, but I knew it was still in there. It was still in there and it would find a way out, and that way would be frightening.

Lisandro drove. I started to get in back with Nicky, but Lisandro said, “Anita, sit up front with me.”

“Why?” I asked.

“You and Nicky got pretty distracted back there. It’s part of what got the big guy so upset. He wanted to break you guys up.”

“Stop us from kissing, or hurt us?” I asked.

“I don’t think Bernardo was sure which he meant to do; that’s why he stopped him.”

“I appreciate you and Bernardo interceding for us,” I said.

“It was my job, and Bernardo is more afraid of Edward than he is of Olaf.”

“Thanks all the same,” I said.

“Just ride up front, that’s thanks enough,” he said.

“Anita can sit in back with me,” Nicky said.

“I’m not driving around while the two of you make out,” he said.

“We’re not getting in the back to make out, Lisandro.”

He just looked at me. “So why does it matter if you ride up front?”

I opened my mouth, and then closed it. Why did it matter? Nicky brushed his fingers against mine, and it just seemed natural to fold my hand around his. I felt better, steadier. Ah, that was why it mattered. Could I promise that we wouldn’t make out in the back seat? I thought I could. Could I promise we wouldn’t touch each other? No, and why would it matter? What was so wrong with us touching each other? I shook my head. “I’ll sit up front.”

Nicky squeezed my hand. “You’re the boss, not him.”

“Yeah, but I can’t promise him we won’t let the touching get out of hand, Nicky. He’s right about that.” I searched his face, and the only thing I saw there was need, almost hunger. This was the longest I’d ever been away from Nicky since he came to St. Louis. I thought about it; was this the longest I’d ever been away from home since Jean-Claude and I had been dating? I stood there holding Nicky’s hand and feeling it like an anchor in all this mess. If it had been Jean-Claude, or Micah, holding my hand, how much worse would the draw have been? Was I more than homesick? Was it more than just not feeding the ardeur that had caused the tree limb to hurt me so badly, and caused me to need sex to heal? Was it literally not being home with Jean-Claude and the other men that was affecting how well I healed?

I stood there holding Nicky’s hand and feeling better than I’d felt in days, or was that just my imagination? I wasn’t sure, and the fact that I couldn’t tell said something, too. Shit.

“I’ll sit in front because I want to touch you. It’s like I’m more than just hungry for the ardeur , it’s like the metaphysical tie is making you more touchable than normal.”

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but just let me sit up front and get to the hotel. We’ll go from there.”

“I don’t understand, Anita.”

“Neither do I,” I said, and we left it at that. But I sat up front with Lisandro, though when Nicky touched my shoulder, I put my hand up to his and we held hands all the way there.

LISANDRO DROVE INTO the parking lot. I said, “Park in front of the office. I’ve got to see if they have enough rooms for everyone.”

He didn’t argue, just turned in the opposite direction from the rooms. Nicky leaned against the back of my seat, his hand still in mine, but now he could lean his face around the headrest and nuzzle the side of my face. I leaned in against that touch, as if I couldn’t help myself, but I said, “Car’s still moving. You need your seatbelt on.”

He spoke low, mouth buried in my hair. “We’re going ten miles an hour, Anita. I’ll be fine.”

I fought the urge to tell him to put it on anyway, because I was sort of fanatical about seatbelts staying on until a car came to a complete stop, but Nicky was right. Hell, as a shapeshifter he could go through the windshield full speed and survive. I had a moment to think, if my mother had been a shapeshifter she wouldn’t have died when I was eight. I had one of those moments of clarity, and wondered if I dated only preternatural men because they would survive.

Lisandro found a parking space in front of the banked windows of the office area. I had to pull away from Nicky to get out of the car, but the moment we were both free of the car, he took my hand in his. It was my right hand and my main gun hand, but since he was right-handed, too, one of us was going to have to compromise their gun hand. I had to force myself to do what I normally did automatically, which was to pull my hand out of his, and play a few minutes of who was going to complicate their ability to draw their weapon. I just knew it wasn’t going to be me. It was one of the reasons that Nicky and I didn’t hold hands much in public, because he was my bodyguard, among other things. The fact that we were both willing to have his right hand occupied, when we were out hunting dangerous things, was another clue that something was wrong with my need to touch and be near my metaphysical men. I promised myself to call Jean-Claude after he woke for the day and see if he had a clue.