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Chapter Thirty
OUTSIDE RICHARD'S ROOM I had a fight with my guards. The other guard was Cisco, who was all of eighteen. I felt like a chaperone at a prom. But the fact that they were both still teenagers didn't make them less stubborn. Hell, maybe it made them more stubborn.
"Standing orders," Cisco said, "are that you are not to go anywhere without at least one guard with you at all times." He ran his hand through his carefully blond-tipped hair and frowned. He wasn't happy.
"I don't need an audience to see my boyfriend."
"Orders are orders," he said.
I looked up at Peter. I still wasn't used to having to look up at him. I'd visualized him over the phone as my size, with that brown hair cut in a standard short cut. But the brunette do was cut short but longer on top, not exactly a skater's cut but close. It was more modern, more teenager, less little boy. I didn't like it. "I need a little privacy, Peter, you understand that."
He smiled and shook his head. "I'm not fourteen now, Anita."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I'm sympathetic, but not stupid. Edward gave the orders, and Claudia and Remus backed them up."
They were both young enough that I thought I might be able to embarrass them into letting me talk to Richard alone. "Fine, which of you wants to see me get all emotional with Richard?"
They exchanged looks.
"How emotional?" Cisco asked.
"I don't know, maybe I'll cry, maybe we'll have a fight. You never know with Richard and me."
Cisco spoke to Peter like I wasn't there. "They are pretty weird around each other."
"Weird how?" Peter asked.
"I am standing right here," I said.
Cisco looked at me with those big dark eyes. "You and Richard are like scary weird together as a couple; come on, it's true."
I had to smile. "Scary weird, huh?"
Cisco nodded.
I sighed. "Fine, I guess so, but I would like privacy, come on. He almost died, and so did I."
"I'm sorry, Anita," Cisco said. "I can't do it. One of us has to be in the room with you."
"Don't I have any seniority here?"
"Claudia and Remus both made it really clear that if I fuck up again, I'm gone, like fired gone. I'm not going to fuck up again."
"What'd you do?" Peter asked, then actually blushed. "Sorry, sorry, not my business. Later."
Cisco nodded. "Later."
Cisco sniffed the air and turned toward the far end of the hallway. Soledad came around the corner. She saw us, and her face looked suddenly stricken. She dropped to all fours and started to crawl toward us. Not in that almost sexual way the lycanthropes could, but broken, as if it hurt her to move.
"What's up?" I asked.
Her voice came, as broken as her movements. "I shot Richard. I'm sorry."
"You shot Richard," I said. I looked at Cisco.
He shrugged and gave me a look as if to say, Yeah. "I think if she hadn't shot him, he might have just torn Jean-Claude's heart out."
"I'm sorry," Soledad said. "I didn't know what else to do." She had stopped a few feet from us, her hand held out in the air, her head down. I'd seen a similar gesture among the lions. It was a way of asking to come closer when you were pretty sure the dominant in question didn't like you.
I'd been told that a guard shot Richard, and that it had saved Jean-Claude's life, but no one had told me who had done it. I stared at the woman holding out that hand, asking for forgiveness. She'd done her job, sort of. What would I have done in her place? Frozen. I wouldn't have been able to shoot Richard to save Jean-Claude. I'd have frozen and Jean-Claude would have died. Which would have probably killed both Richard and me. Shit.
"They took her weapons," Cisco said, "until they review it all."
"Like when a cop is involved in a shooting," I said.
"A lot of us are ex-police now," Cisco said, and he gave me a look, as if to say, Well, what are you going to do?
What was I going to do? I sighed, hung my head, and started forward. Why was it that in the middle of every crisis I always seemed to be babysitting someone's emotions? Usually someone who was dangerous, armed, or should have been some kind of tough guy, or girl. The monsters were a lot softer than they seemed.
I went to her and gave her my left hand. Most people did it like they were shaking hands, but I kept my gun hand free; just habit. Soledad made a sound like a sob as she gripped my hand. I had a moment to feel how terribly strong she was as she crawled close enough to put her face against my hand. She rubbed her cheeks against my hand and lower arm, and murmured, "Thank you, thank you, Anita. I'm so sorry, so sorry." Her tears were cool against my skin. Funny, tears were always colder than blood; shouldn't they both feel the same? Her power flared across my skin like a giant's breath, so hot, and so everywhere. Any strong emotion can undo a shapeshifter's control.
She drew a shuddering sob and threw herself around my waist, her long arms clutching me. She was practically wailing. "I didn't know what else to do with Richard..."
"It's okay, Soledad, it's okay." I patted her hair and started to turn in her arms. I didn't know her well enough to be this up close and personal, and the emotional content was a little much for near strangers. Hell, I wouldn't have wanted this much emotional content from close friends. I had actually turned around, with her hands only lightly on me, when she moved. She grabbed me around the waist, lifted me in front of her face and chest, and I blocked the clawed hand that had gone for my throat with my arm. Claws dug into my side just below the ribs. The pain was sharp and immediate, and I suddenly had two goals. I strained to keep her hand from my throat and gripped her wrist at my waist to keep her from slicing open my belly.
Her voice growled from behind me, "I'm sorry you have to die, Anita."
