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Bobby shook his head. “If my life is ruined, no sense taking Troy down with me.”
“You aren’t taking Troy down with you. He did that all on his own when he aimed at a prisoner that was already chained in a cell. If you hadn’t been able to break your chains and hide under the bed where he couldn’t get off a second shot, you might be dead now,” I said.
“Some things you just don’t do, pardner. Shootin’ someone chained up in a cell is one of ’em.”
“It is like a caged hunt,” Olaf said. “There is no sport in it.”
“No,” Wagner said, “I swear I was done with that first shot. Doing it seemed to bring me to my senses. Thank God I missed.”
“Yeah, otherwise it would be murder charges instead of attempted murder,” I said.
“That’s throwing a lot of stones for preternatural marshals,” Duke said. He’d come back to peer over Frankie’s shoulder at us. I could smell coffee brewing, which put me in a better mood, so I actually let it go, but Newman didn’t.
“What’s that supposed to mean, Duke?”
“You pound stakes through the chests of vampires chained up and covered in holy items in the morgue or in their coffins. That’s more of a canned hunt than any cell.”
We looked at him. Whatever Duke saw on our faces made him hold his hands up in a push-away gesture. “If I’m wrong, I apologize.”
“You’re not wrong,” I said, but not like I was happy about it.
“We’re busting Deputy Wagner’s chops, pardner, because the morgue stakings are part of our sworn duty as preternatural marshals. Wagner was supposed to be guarding the prisoner, not trying to kill him,” Edward said, smiling like Ted, but his eyes were starting to fade from the bright blue they had when he was happy.
“The morgue executions are the first kills they give to new marshals,” Newman said, his voice sounding about as happy as mine had.
“Then isn’t that worse than Troy trying to shoot someone in a cell, even chained up?” Duke said.
“Yeah, a vampire chained down and covered in holy items is more trapped than Bobby in the cell here,” I said.
“But like I said, pardner, those are legally sanctioned executions,” Edward said, accent still strong, but his eyes were leaving the blue range and entering gray. You didn’t want him upset with you when his eyes got to their palest gray-blue, like winter skies before a blizzard falls on top of your head and destroys your world.
“So, if Troy had been one of you marshals and killed Bobby in his cell, then it would have been legal?” Duke asked.
“Yes, it would have been legal,” I said.
“Does the legal part really make shooting someone in a cage better?” Duke asked.
“Boss,” Deputy Frankie said as if she wanted to caution him but wasn’t sure it was her place.
“I’ve never had a shapeshifter in a cage before. Everything about his case is different,” Newman said.
“Are they tied down like a vampire for you, then?” Frankie asked.
“No, and it’s always chains with supernatural prisoners. Rope is pretty much useless,” I said.
“If they’re not chained up or in a cell, how do you usually execute shapeshifters?” Frankie asked.
“Kill or be killed,” Edward said, and his Ted accent was still there, but the cadence of the words was all Edward.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“We’re usually hunting them while they hunt us,” I said.
“Don’t you kill them while they’re passed out after changing back to human form?” Duke asked.
The four of us looked at one another. “Doesn’t usually happen that way,” I said at last.
“I have,” Olaf said, “but it is not preferred.”
