Hit List(101)

“You’re the only wolf,” I whispered.

“We had one other, but he left us.” The regret in his voice was like weeping without the tears.

“I know where he is,” I said. Jake was one of the Harlequin on our side.

“He’s with you, we know that,” and this time his voice was a snarl, “but he left us long before that. He betrayed us.”

“He did what wolves do,” I said. “He took care of the pack, not just one wolf.”

“Tigers are not wolves!” He grabbed my arms, sat me up, shook me just a little; let me feel the strength in his hands.

“No,” I said, “but he has wolves in St. Louis. He has our pack. He’s not alone.”

His fingers dug into my arms. The strength in them vibrated against my skin, as if he were fighting not to dig in farther, or maybe he was fighting not to send claws slicing through my flesh. Some people are grateful when you offer them what they want most, but some people are terrified of it. Because to gain your heart’s desire you have to lose some part of your old life, your old self. To do that you have to have courage; without it, you can’t make the leap. And if you don’t make the leap, you have only three choices: You can hate yourself for not taking the chance, you can hate the person for whom you’ve sacrificed your happiness, or you can hate the one who offered you happiness, and blame them for your lack of courage, convince yourself it wasn’t real. That way, you don’t have to hate yourself. It’s always easier to blame someone else.

I looked into his green wolf eyes and watched the fight. He growled, “They said all you offered was sex.”

“They lied,” I said, softly. I let it be implied that maybe they’d lied about other things, too.

He let go of me as if I’d burned him, stood up, and went for the door in a swirl of black cape. He stopped at the door, and spoke without turning around. “You have defeated me twice, Anita Blake. There is more magic to you than just being a succubus.”

“I never said otherwise.”

He opened the door, went out, and I heard a bolt shoot behind him. I was locked in, and still tied up, but I was sitting up, drug free, and alone. Alone wasn’t bad.





36




THE ROOM WAS about the size of an average bedroom, but the walls were all stone, and the floor was concrete that looked like it had been poured too thick and never smoothed, so it had dried in odd shapes. Water stains discolored the wall nearest to where I’d come to, and in one corner the water stains had become a shallow standing puddle. No wonder I’d woken up cold. Were we underground? There was only one dim, bare bulb in the center of the room. The only furniture in the room was a large wooden table that looked solid and heavy, which was probably why it was still in the room; too heavy to take out. I actually looked back at the door and realized that the table must have been put together inside the room; otherwise how had it fit? I stopped trying to do the math of furniture moving, and looked at the only other things in the room: a pile of wooden boxes against the far wall with a stained tarp thrown carelessly over them, as if someone had started to cover them, but never quite finished. There might be something else under the tarp, but I’d have to inchworm my way over there, and I had no way of knowing if it was worth it. Besides, they were watching me. I doubted they would let me get close to anything that could cut through the ropes. I still might try to get closer to the boxes. They were the only thing I could see in the room that had any promise to them. Everything else was useless for cutting through the ropes, as far as I could see. I realized that once I’d have thought the room was dark, but I’d spent the last year and change living in the underground at the Circus of the Damned. The rooms were actually part of the cave system that ran under St. Louis, so my idea of dim lighting had changed. My night vision had always been good, but I’d begun to wonder if all the animals I carried inside me had given me more than just superhuman strength and speed. My night vision was getting better.

I heard someone at the door. I hadn’t moved anything but my head and body to look around the room, so I just sat there and waited for the door to open. I actually didn’t have to scramble to hide anything, which was kind of disappointing.

It was another Harlequin in the black hooded cloak and white mask. He was taller than the werewolf, so someone new, or someone I’d seen briefly in the woods earlier with Edward. I wouldn’t let myself hope that he’d save me; I would save myself, but it made me feel better that he was out there. I knew he’d move heaven and earth to find me, because I’d have done the same for him.