around the edges. I wondered how Bernardo had found out Morgan’s actual rank. I’d ask him later, when it wouldn’t make us look less smart.
“Just because I’m chief of detectives doesn’t mean we can’t be friends,” he said, recovering himself.
Hooper came up. “We’ve heard back. The car’s empty. Blood, but no bodies.”
“Shit,” Shaw said.
“Let us help you,” Edward said.
“You weren’t any help with Minns; in fact, you slowed the operation down.”
Edward looked at Hooper. “Is that how you see it, Sergeant?”
Hooper gave him his blank face. “No, but he outranks me.”
“Nice of you to remember that,” Shaw said.
“Which weretiger went rogue?” I asked.
“Martin Bendez,” Hooper said.
“Sergeant,” Shaw said, “we don’t need to share with the marshals anymore.”
“Is it your team going after him?” I asked Hooper.
“Henderson’s team has point.”
“Sergeant Hooper,” Shaw said, “I gave you a direct order not to share with the marshals.”
“Now it’s a direct order,” Hooper said, and he walked away to gather his men and his equipment and leave. He never looked back, but I knew that whatever he had told Shaw and his other “superiors,” it hadn’t been that we slowed them down. But he had to report that I’d gone all weird on them. They might have hired psychics for their force, but I wasn’t one of their practitioners. They might be open minded, but the fact that something had happened that their own practitioner didn’t understand would count against me. I had an idea.
“Can the other marshals go to the next scene?”
“I told you, you slowed us down,” Shaw said. He started to walk away.
“You mean I went all metaphysical on you and creeped everyone out. Fine, punish me, keep me out of it, but no one is better at tracking these guys than Marshal Forrester. Let the other marshals go on to the next scene. I’ll sit it out.”
Edward was looking at me. Not saying anything, just looking at me.
“No,” Shaw said.
Morgan said, “Why not, Sheriff? It’ll keep the Marshals Service from getting pissy, and I’ve heard nothing but good about the others.”
Shaw looked at him, and again there was that feeling that Morgan carried more weight than he should have, even as chief of detectives.
Shaw came to stand over me, trying to intimidate me, like I cared. “Why do you want the other marshals to go?”
“Because I don’t want another crime scene in Vegas like the warehouse.”
“You think we can’t handle it?” Shaw asked, already getting angry.
“I think that I’d trust Ted to lead me into hell itself and get me out the other side. Marshals Spotted Horse and Jeffries are both good men in a fight. If the shit hits the fan, you couldn’t do better. Let them help you, and I will stand down, Shaw.”
“What could it hurt?” Morgan asked.
“Fine,” Shaw said, reluctance so strong in the one word it sounded like cussing.
Edward leaned in and spoke soft and fast. “I don’t like leaving you alone.”
“I’m surrounded by uniforms, so I’m not alone,” I said.
I knew the look I was getting even behind his sunglasses. “If I help the locals but Vittorio finds a way to get to you, that won’t make either of us happy.”
“Nice way to put it, but it’s daylight, and if I keep my shields in place, then I’m vampire proof.”
“And once darkness falls?”
“One disaster at a time.” I gave him a little push. “Go find Martin Bendez. If we can get information from him, best, but just help keep our police friends alive.”
“Why?” he whispered.
I realized he meant that. Sometimes I forget that when I first met Edward, he scared me almost as much as Olaf. Then he’ll say something like this, and I’ll remember that he’s still a predator. He’s my friend, and he likes me, but most other people are just things to him. Tools to use or obstacles to overcome.
“If I said it’s the right thing to do, would you laugh at me?”
He smiled. “No.”
“You coming, Forrester, or is chatting up your girlfriend more important?” Shaw called.
We let it go, and Edward moved away with the officers still left on the scene. Most of them had vanished when the
Bernardo followed Edward, but Olaf hung back and said, “I would stay with you.”
I yelled, “Ted?”
He looked back, saw the big guy, and called, “Jeffries, catch up.”
Olaf hesitated, then turned and started at a march/trot to catch up. Training will tell, and he’d fallen back into that fast march without thinking about it.
I watched them get into the SUV. Edward never looked back. I trusted him to take care of himself and wished I were going along. There was also that small part of me that felt if I were there he’d be safer; everyone would be. God complex, me? Surely not. Paranoia? Maybe. All I knew was that more than almost anything else in the world, I did not want to explain to Donna and the kids why Edward would never come home to them.
Another uniform led Victor over to stand with me and Morgan and the handful of officers still with us.
I looked at Victor in his designer suit. He looked so much more elegant than the rest of us, but it didn’t matter. No matter what we looked like on the outside, the police had labeled us freaks, and they were done playing with us for the day. Now it was left to the humans to chase the monster down and kill it, if they could. The fact that I was standing here with Victor said, clearly, that at least some of the Vegas PD considered me one of the monsters. You don’t let monsters hunt monsters. Why? Because there’s a part of every human being that believes that the monster’s sympathy lies with its fellow freaks. Because that’s where their sympathy would lie. In the end, it’s not us they don’t trust; it’s themselves.
43
VICTOR WENT TO stand in front of Morgan. “Detective Morgan, without Marshal Blake and me, you have no hope of taking Martin alive.”
I said, “We have two officers missing, presumed injured or dead. It’s not about taking him alive anymore, Victor.”
“But if he dies, we lose the chance to find Vittorio’s daytime lair,” Victor said.
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. We could pretend that it does, but your tiger gave up his safety when he touched the officers.”
“You won’t even try to get them to bring him in alive?”
“They don’t trust me anymore, Victor. I went too weird on them.”
“Your friend Forrester, then.”
“Until they find the missing officers, it doesn’t matter.”
“What if killing Martin means you never find the officers’ bodies?”
I turned to Morgan. “What about that? That Martin Bendez may know where your officers are?”
“I’ll radio it in, but you called it, Blake. The moment he touched our officers, we’re not going to be able to contain this.”
“He is a very powerful weretiger,” Victor said. “He will not be easy to kill.”
“That a threat?” Morgan asked.
“No, honesty. If Martin has gone rogue, and you won’t allow us to try to use metaphysics to contain him, then killing him from a distance is your only hope.”
