Skin Trade

other marshals what we’re doing.”

They walked toward the back room and the ex-hostages and Edward. Olaf said what I was thinking. “Edward won’t like what you’re doing.”

“He doesn’t have to like it.”

“Most women value their boyfriend’s opinion.”

“Fuck you,” I said, and walked away from him.

He called after me. “I thought you didn’t want to.”

I kept walking. The vampires on the floor stared at me as if I were Vittorio, or something else equally scary. There was hatred in a few eyes, but underneath it all was their fear. I could taste it on the back of my tongue, like something sweet that held a bitterness to it, like dark chocolate that’s a little too dark.

The far door opened and Cannibal was helping Sarah the vampire walk through the door. She caught sight of me and started screaming all over again, “She’s going to kill us! She’s going to kill us all!”

Usually she’d be right, but maybe, just maybe, we really could save everyone tonight.

65

IT WAS LESS than two hours before dawn. I was so tired I ached, but the vampires were all still alive. They were chained to gurneys in the morgue, and since the morgue had a room designed for only one vamp at a time, the coroner and all of his people hadn’t been too happy to see ten of them, but Grimes had used his own men to act as extra guards. The guard duty was volunteer only, but his men had looked at him like he was crazy; if he said it was a good thing, it was. Besides, he’d explained it like this: “No one died tonight; if we do this, no one dies tomorrow either.”

Edward hadn’t been happy with me. Bernardo had been amused. Olaf had left me alone, caught in his own thoughts that I wanted no part of. I’d actually let Sergeant Rocco drop me at my hotel because Edward didn’t offer. Normally, it would have hurt my feelings, but not over this.

“I’ve never tried my talent on a real vampire before,” he said in the quiet of the car.

“How different was it?” I asked, still gazing out at darkened buildings on the street. Like most streets in most cities, everything was closed on this street. Just before dawn, even the strippers get to go home.

“They’re still people, but it’s as if their thoughts are slower. No,” he said, and something about how he said it made me look at him. His profile in the light and shadow of the streetlights was very serious. “It was like those insects frozen in amber, as if the memories that were clearest to them were old, and what happened tonight with our killer was mistier for them.”

“I’ll bet that was only true of Henry Jefferson and Sarah,” I said.

He glanced away from the road to me. “Yeah, how did you know?”

“They were the oldest. You know how with some people, when they get old, the past is more clear than the present to them?”

He nodded.

“I think for some vampires, it’s like that, too. The ones who haven’t succeeded but just survived. I think they look back on their glory days.”

“Does your vampire boyfriend do that?”

I resisted the urge to ask, Which one? and played nice. “No, but then he’s the master of his city.”

“You’re saying he’s happy now.”

“Yeah.”

“Henry was wearing a watch that cost more than this truck. He’s not doing bad, so why was his most vivid memory of a time when women wore long dresses and curls, and he was in vest and suit with a pocket watch and a top hat?”

“Did he love the woman?” I asked.

Rocco thought about that, then said, “Yes.” He looked at me again. “I’ve never been able to pick up love images before, Anita. I’m good at violence, hate, the dark stuff, but tonight I got soft images and had to work at the harsh. Did you do something to me when I read you?”

“Not on purpose,” I said, “but I tend to have an effect on vampire powers.”

“I’m not a vampire,” he said.

“We’re alone, Rocco, and you wanted to talk to me alone, so no more lies. You know, and I know, and your men know, that you feed on the memories you gather.”

“They don’t know.”

“Cannibal is your call sign. They know; at some level, they know.” I settled back into the seat, and we turned onto the Strip, and I suddenly knew where everyone was; they were here. The street looked the same at hours before dawn as it had closer to midnight. “I thought New York was the city that never slept,” I said.

Rocco laughed. “I’ve never been there, but the Strip doesn’t sleep much.” He glanced at me again, then back to the bright lights and the animated billboards. “You fed on my memory, too.”

“You showed me how.”

“By me feeding on one memory, you learned how to turn it on me, just like that?”

“Apparently,” I said.

“Where are you staying?”

“The New Taj,” I said.

“Max’s place.” He said it like it was a bad thing.

“Max knows if he lets anything happen to us, it might be a bad thing. He’ll keep us safe to keep the peace.”

“Your boyfriend that big in the vampire world?”

“We do okay,” I said.

“That didn’t answer the question.”

“Nope, it didn’t.”

“Fine.” We were at the light in front of the Bellagio, with the fake skyline of New York close by and the Eiffel Tower in sight. It was like the world had been pared down and squished into one street.

“Ask the question you wanted to ask, Rocco.”

I half-expected him to protest, but he didn’t; he finally asked, “You’re like me. You feed from your power.”

“From raising the dead? I don’t think so.”

“It’s something to do with sex or love. I feed on violence, the memory of it, but you feed on softer emotions, don’t you?”

I debated on how to answer; maybe I was just tired because I told the truth. “Yeah.”

“Am I going to keep seeing softer things?”

“I don’t know. It’s like we traded a little power.” I looked at the pirate ship, the fire, and it was surreal, unreal, like some dream where nothing makes sense.

“Have you ever shared power like that before?”

“I can act as a focus for psychic ability for raising the dead.”

“What does that mean?”

“I can share power with other animators, and combined we can raise more, or older, dead.”

“Really,” he said.

“Yeah, I wrote it up for the magazine The Animator a few years back.”

“Email me the back issue, and I’ll read up on it. Maybe practitioners here can do something similar.”

“Your abilities aren’t very similar.”

“Ours weren’t either.”

“We’re both living vampires, Cannibal; that’s similar enough.”

He glanced at me, and it was a longer look. “The law hasn’t expanded to psychic vampires yet.”

“They don’t want to understand it enough to regulate it.”