Skin Trade(144)
I didn’t owe Wicked the explanation about Requiem and me, so I said, “I told Jean-Claude not to send anyone who couldn’t handle themselves in a fight. I’ve never seen Requiem fight.”
“He does okay, but honestly, Jean-Claude didn’t want to send us into another vamp’s territory without someone who could be more diplomatic than the rest of us. Requiem’s here just in case we need to negotiate with Max and his people.”
“Like I said, Wicked, it makes sense.”
“Now, ask me how Requiem likes his cover for this assignment.”
“Cover, he’s here to represent Jean-Claude’s interests, right?”
“He is, but that’s only if things go wrong with Max. He saw it as an insult to send this many people for him, but Jean-Claude explained we were worried about your safety with the serial killer.”
“Makes sense,” I said, not like I was happy.
“Max wanted to put his guards around you, Anita.”
“No,” I said.
“This is the compromise.”
“What is?” I asked, and couldn’t keep the impatience out of my voice.
“Requiem is being loaned out as a dancer to Max’s revue.”
“He hates stripping.”
“Yeah, and I hate torturing people, but I’m really, really good at it.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I ignored it. “Couldn’t we just tell Max that everyone’s food for me?”
“We can explain bodyguards for you. We can explain a pomme de sang for you, that’s London. But we can’t tell Max that you need this much food, Anita. It would be too close to admitting you don’t have control of the ardeur. Requiem is going to look over Max’s club for a possible guest role, and if it works out for him, then Jean-Claude has agreed to the possibility of loaning other dancers occasionally.”
“Max has been wanting that for a while,” I said.
“Which is how we explained Requiem.”
“Why are you telling me all this and not Requiem?”
“He’s soothing hurt feelings among our little group.”
“How pissy is everyone being?” I asked.
“You told Jean-Claude to pick people who could handle themselves in a fight, Anita. That means you’ve got a lot of big dogs in one room, fighting for the same bone. Requiem and I can handle it, but I thought you should know before you walk into it.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Now, where are you?”
“On the way to the outskirts of town. We’re going to interview a witness.”
“Have you fed?”
“Solid food just a few minutes ago.”
“But no wet food?” Wet food was slang among the vamps for blood, and lately I’d noticed some of them referring to my feeding on sex, or emotion, the same way. I couldn’t argue with it, I guess, though part of me wanted to.
“No,” I said.
“You’re approaching fourteen hours between feeds, Anita. You got anyone with you, in case?”
I licked my lips. “I’ve got absolute-emergency volunteers, but no, not really.”
“How far out are you, and what road?” he asked.
I asked Edward, who told me. I repeated it to Wicked. “This time of night, it will be quicker if one of us flies to you.”
“Which of you can fly that well? And if it’s Requiem, he can’t come by himself. He may be okay in a fight, but okay isn’t enough. I don’t want any of our people alone until we get this bastard.”
“You really think Vittorio will make a grab for your people?”
“Humor me. Who can fly well enough to come to me?”
“I can; Truth can. I’ll ask the others.” He put the phone on mute while I waited. Knowing Wicked, he’d simply ask London and Requiem which of them flew the best. I had no idea.
“We can’t have Jean-Claude’s men meet us at a witness’s house, Anita. That’ll just confirm what the PD thinks,” Edward said.
“I know that, Edward. I’m hoping he’ll catch up to us afterward.”
“Are you planning on feeding before we drive back?” Olaf asked.
“No, but it’s been fourteen hours, and I had to heal a lot of damage. That takes energy. He’ll meet us, but it’s just a precaution.”
“I said I would feed you,” Olaf said.
“Thanks, Olaf, I mean that, but…” I thought about what to say next. “I don’t think we want our first time together to be in the back of a truck.”
He seemed to think about it for a minute or two, then said, “More time and room would be welcome.”
I had not agreed to have sex with Olaf, but I had managed not to crush his good intentions of sex that didn’t involve killing his partner. Edward had asked me to try, and I was trying.