[Anita Blake 17] - Skin Trade by Laurell K. Hamilton Page A

clothes.
    Hooper aka Sonny got in the driver’s seat. Grimes rode shotgun. Highest rank usually rode in front, or in back. Depended on the officer. Sergeant Rocco got in beside me. The mound of weapons and bags seemed to sort of press in from behind, as if the potential for destruction could leak out of the bags, or maybe it was nerves? I knew I had grenades in the bags. Yes, Mr. Grenade is your friend until you press, pull, or otherwise activate it, but still, boomy and fiery things were fairly new for me to carry. Part of me didn’t exactly trust it; no logic, just nervous. I didn’t like explosives.
    We pulled out, and Shaw was still standing there in his ring of uniformed officers. He’d been the one to suggest we get out of the heat, but he was still standing in it, watching me from behind his mirrored shades. I realized I’d never seen his eyes, not once. I guess, to be fair, he’d never seen mine.
    â€œHe does know we can still see him, right?” I said as we drove past.
    â€œYes,” Grimes said, “why?”
    â€œBecause suddenly he looks unhappy.”
    â€œWe lost men,” Grimes said.
    I looked at him and found that the pleasant face had slipped a little. Some of the pain that had to be in there showed around the edges. Pain, and that thin edge of anger that we all carry around with us.
    â€œNothing I can do will bring them back, but I will do everything I can to kill the vampire that did it.”
    â€œWe’re about saving lives, Marshal, not taking them,” Grimes said.
    I opened my mouth, closed it, and tried to say something that wouldn’t upset him more. “I don’t save lives, Lieutenant, I take them.”
    Rocco said, “Don’t you believe that killing the vampires saves their future victims?”
    I thought about it, then shook my head. “I used to, and it may even be true, but it just feels like I kill people.”
    â€œPeople,” he said, “not monsters.”
    â€œOnce I believed they were monsters.”
    â€œAnd now?” Rocco asked.
    I shrugged and looked away. I was seeing a lot of empty land and the beginnings of strip malls. It might have been Vegas, but the landscape was more Anywhere, USA.
    â€œDon’t tell me the infamous Anita Blake is going soft?” This from Hooper.
    Grimes said, “Hooper,” in a voice that clearly meant he was in trouble with the boss.
    Hooper didn’t apologize. “You’ve told me my team is her go. I need to know, Lieutenant. We all need to know.”
    Rocco didn’t so much as move or even wince; he went very still, as if he wasn’t sure what was about to happen. Just that reaction from him let me know that they didn’t question their looie much, if ever. That Hooper did it now showed just how upset they all were about the men they’d lost and the men in the hospital. That moment was Hooper’s way of grieving.
    I sat beside Rocco and let the weighted silence stretch in the truck. I was going to follow the sergeant’s lead.
    Grimes finally said, “You don’t learn if you can trust someone from asking questions, Sonny.”
    â€œI know that, Lieutenant, but it’s all we have time for.”
    I felt tension slide out of Rocco as he sat beside me. I took that as a good sign, and waited.
    Grimes looked at me. “We can’t ask if you’ve gone soft, Marshal. That would be rude, and I think you’d answer it the way any of us would: no.”
    I smiled and shook my head. “I’ll kill your vampire for you, Grimes. I’ll kill anyone who helps him. I’ll kill everyone the warrant lets me kill. I’ll get revenge for your men.”
    â€œWe aren’t about vengeance,” Grimes said.
    â€œI am,” I said.
    Grimes looked down at his one big hand where it lay on the seat. He raised brown eyes up to me then, face solemn. “We can’t be about vengeance, Marshal Blake. We’re