“I need to go rescue Pride and move him to a different desk, then let’s talk to the human servant.” I made air quotes around the last two words, a little hampered by the phone in one hand.
“Go save your bodyguard, then I’ll walk you in to our businessman.”
I didn’t even argue that I didn’t need Dolph at my back. There were people who would jump me, even with my reputation, who would hesitate at attacking with someone male and Dolph’s size beside me. I could hate that it was true, but it was still true.
I went to rescue my tiger. Pride’s face was darkening under his pale gold tan. His shoulders, arms, and hands were tight with tension, bordering on anger. Tammy had tried to recruit me to the order of holy witches when she first joined RPIT, and I’d been Episcopalian, so Christian. Pride wasn’t, none of the golden tigers were; they all followed a pantheistic religion that had originated in China centuries before Jesus Christ had been a glimmer in the Creator’s eye. Their religion had evolved from centuries of being in other countries and having to hide that they hadn’t all been slain during the reign of the First Emperor of China in the early two hundreds BC, yeah, as in 259 BC to 210 BC. But the golden tigers were very devout to their faith; they didn’t see it as inferior to the upstart religion that had started as a Jewish rebel sect.
I was almost to him when Arnet blocked my path. She spoke low. “Is he another boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend, or my lover, just a guard.”
“You swear,” she said, arms crossed across her small, neat breasts. I could never do that; my breasts were too big, I had to go under them and sort of lift.
“I swear,” I said.
She smiled. “I’ll rescue him from the Minister then.”
It took me a moment to realize that “the Minister” was Tammy’s nickname. Arnet swayed toward them; her skirt suit was cut to show off her ass, and though she was thin, she had a figure. She was also wearing makeup, understated, but Arnet made an effort. She used all that effort as she touched Pride’s shoulder and then smiled down at him, and at Tammy. She got him up and moving to her desk. Pride looked at me across the room, and I gave a small nod; he nodded back and let Arnet pull him up a chair. He was safe from Tammy’s recruitment drive, and he knew my background with Arnet, so he was as prepared as I could make him.
Zerbrowski was pretending to be scandalizing Claudia, but as I walked by to check on them, I saw that he was actually showing her pictures of his kids on his iPhone, not naughty pictures. He pretended to be a terrible lech, but in reality he was one of the happiest and most devoted family men I’d ever met. Katie, his petite and lovely wife, had told me once at a barbecue at their house that she thought his outrageous flirting was an outlet he needed. Apparently, he’d flirted like that when they first met, and she’d thought he didn’t like her because she was the only girl he didn’t flirt with; go figure.
Dolph sent two uniforms into the room ahead of us. They took up posts at corners of the room. Dolph said, “Mr. Weiskopf, this is Marshal Blake.”
Weiskopf smiled, and it seemed genuine, as if he were really glad to see me. “Marshal Blake, Anita, I didn’t expect to see you like this in an interrogation room. My master and I are very disappointed that it’s come to this.”
I offered him a hand across the table before I sat down. He hesitated, and then took it sort of automatically; most people will, even vampires, but he wasn’t a vampire. His hand was just a hand in mine, warm, alive… human. I could have put some power into the touch, but he might take that as an insult so I minded my manners.
“What exactly has it come to, Mr. Weiskopf?” I said, as I sat down. Dolph actually pushed my chair in for me, which I’d have preferred he not do, because I still hadn’t figured out the timing on that. I sat down too early, as usual, and got the chair shoved into the back of my knees, which sort of hurt. At least Dolph, like most of the men who insisted on the chair thing in my life, was strong enough to push me into place at the table.
Dolph stayed standing at my side, looming over both me and the man at the table. He was trying to be intimidating, and if you weren’t used to someone his height, it usually worked.
Weiskopf rolled his eyes upward as if looking all the way to the top of Dolph’s head, then back to me. He smiled, hands still clasped on top of the table. “My master does not approve of the violence done in the name of our cause.”
“And what cause is that?” I asked. I couldn’t think how a crackpot human could have gotten the name Benjamin from our interrogation of Barney the vampire, but I’d learned to never underestimate the crazy. Crazy didn’t mean dumb; some insane people were incredibly smart. Sometimes I wondered if you had to be a certain level of intelligent just to go crazy in style.
He smiled at me, his brown eyes filled with a gentle chiding. “Now, Anita, may I call you Anita?”
“If I have a first name to call you?” I smiled back at him. I even made it fill my eyes. The days when I couldn’t lie with the best of them were long past.
His smile broadened. “I’ve been Mr. Weiskopf, or just Weiskopf, for so long that it will do.”
“Weiskopf, just that?” I asked.
He nodded, smiling.
“Then you can call me Blake. Last name for last name.”
“You think if I give you a first name that you will be able to trace it, and by finding me, you may find my master.”
I shrugged. “It’s my job to figure things out.”
“No,” he said, and the smile slipped, “it’s your job to kill vampires.”
“If they’ve broken the law, yes.”
He shook his head, and he wasn’t smiling now. “No, Anita, I mean, Blake, you’ve killed vampires for petty crimes. Things that humans would never have been executed for.”
I nodded. “Three-strikes rules for vampires were very harsh.”
He gave a bitter laugh. “Harsh, is that the best you can say?”
“Unfair, inhuman, monstrous, barbaric; stop when you like one of them.”
“All of those, and more, but monstrous, I like that one. The human laws against vampires were monstrous; they made the humans into monsters. You became the bogeyman of all little vampires everywhere, Ms. Blake.”
“Marshal Blake,” I said.
He nodded. “Then I am Mr. Weiskopf.”
“I didn’t use your name, or title, Mr. Weiskopf.”
“No, I suppose you didn’t.” He seemed to get a handle on himself, smoothing the lapels of his black suit; I could see that it was black, not navy, now. He tried to go back to smiling at me, but it didn’t quite fill his eyes now. He was angry, and he didn’t like me, or my job.
“My master and I do not believe in an eye for an eye. We advocated nonviolence, though you offered only violence.”
“I helped get the three-strikes rule for vamps changed. Petty crimes don’t add to the three strikes anymore. A vampire has to harm people to get a warrant of execution now.”
“We do appreciate that your testimony in Washington was instrumental in getting the law modified, Marshal Blake. It gave us hope that Jean-Claude would be different from all the ones that have come before him.”
Dolph interrupted, “All the what that have gone before Jean-Claude?”
Weiskopf looked up at Dolph, all the way up. “Leaders of the Vampire Council, of course. It’s been in the news, Captain Storr; surely you don’t want me to believe you are ignorant that there is talk of the first American head of our council.”
“I’ve heard the rumors,” Dolph said.
“They are not rumors. They are fact.”
I sat there, trying to be very still, trying not to show in any movement, or lack of it, or facial expression that Weiskopf might know things that weren’t in the news and that I might not want my fellow police officers to know.
“The fact that Jean-Claude tolerated the Church of Eternal Life, and did not insist they all take oath to him, gave us great hope.”
I fought not to relax, because he could have said
