“Hmm, I’ve never tried that.”
“Me, either,” he said.
“I wonder if the bullets will glow?”
“We’ll find out,” he said.
I sighed. “Yeah, we’ll find out.”
“You don’t sound so good,” he said.
I opened my mouth, closed it, then said the only thing I could think of. “I’m tired of being a victim to my own metaphysical powers, Edward.”
“Are you okay now?”
“I’ve fed the ardeur. I should be good for twelve hours at least, maybe twenty-four.”
“Why double up?” he asked.
“Let’s just say it was a good meal, okay.”
“Okay,” he said, “get here as soon as you can.”
“So what, I walk in and play the Fed card and piss everyone off, so that you come off as reasonable and I’m the bitch?”
“I’d play the heavy if I could, but I’ve been too reasonable. I can’t explain the change.”
“So I am the bitch.”
“Picture Shaw’s face when you do it.”
I smiled, and knew it wasn’t a pleasant smile. “Well, there is that. Fine, I’ll be the bad cop, but it’s your turn next time.”
“You don’t damage your rep by doing this.”
“And you might,” I said.
“Ted is a very nice guy,” he said.
“You know, it always creeps me when you talk about Ted in the third person.”
He laughed, and it was a good Edward laugh. “Just get here as soon as possible. Do you have a badge?”
My hands went to my belt and found that the belt, badge, and empty holster had survived the night. “Surprisingly, yes.”
“Then flash it, and come explain to everyone why we don’t have to wait on Shaw and the judge.”
“Isn’t this going to make you and the other marshals look weak?”
“They already think we’re pussy-whipped; why disappoint them?”
I shrugged, realized he couldn’t see it, and said, “Okay, but please warn Bernardo and Olaf what we’re doing so that they don’t blame me.”
“I’ll tell them. Just get here.” I heard noise on the other end of the phone, and his voice trailing away, “Hello, Detective Morgan, yes, it is Marshal Blake.” Movement, then, “Ask nicely, and maybe I will.”
Apparently, he asked nicely. “Where the hell are you, Blake?”
“Following up a lead,” I said.
“What kind of lead?”
“Vampires,” I said.
“And what kind of vampire lead would that be?”
“One that didn’t lead anywhere.”
“So you just wasted an hour and a half of our time,” and his voice was hostile.
“Most leads don’t pan out, you know that. Besides, it’s not me that’s trying to double-paper my ass.”
“Just get your ass back here.”
“You aren’t my boss, Morgan. Put Ted back on.”
“Is he your boss?”
“Closest thing Vegas has to one, yeah.”
There was more noise, and movement, and then Edward came back on. “Sorry, about that, Blake,” he said in his cheerful Ted voice. I heard him walking, cowboy boots hitting some hard surface, and then he spoke in his normal voice. “Morgan didn’t agree with Shaw going to a judge. He thought we should throw Bering to the wolves.”
“So he’s taking his mad-on at Shaw out on us?”
“Yelling at us won’t get him fired or demoted.”
“I’m getting really tired of being everyone’s whipping girl, Edward.”
“Yeah.” He stopped walking. “Get here, Anita. We need this done.”
I was left with a buzzing phone. Actually, I’d have rather tackled the demon in the daylight, but two problems with that. One, some demons didn’t show up in daylight, so if you wanted to kill it or send it back, you needed it to be dark. Two, if the vampires were in there, again, I’d rather wait until daylight, but while we waited and played it safe, they might kill someone else. Not acceptable. So much of my job, lately, was just a choice of disasters. I guess that was true of a lot of police work, though.
I turned back to the vampires. “I need to get back to Vegas and help us push our warrant for a house.”
“I thought your warrant covered any house you needed,” Wicked said.
“It does, but we’ve got a pissy undersheriff and a judge who doesn’t like the execution warrants. A lot of judges don’t.”
“Why would they not like it? It’s only a nearly perfectly legal excuse to kill anything in your path,” Wicked said.
“You sound like you don’t approve.”