[Anita Blake 17] - Skin Trade by Laurell K. Hamilton Read Free Book Online Page B

of my best friends nude made me change my mind. “I’m afraid, too, Jason—of Vegas, and Vittorio, but I’m beginning to be afraid to stay here.” I wrapped my hand around the door handle and said, “When he’s awake, when he looks at me, I’m having more and more trouble saying no. I’m losing myself, Jason.”
    â€œI’m your animal to call, Anita; touch me and you gain strength to resist other vampires.”
    â€œProblem is, Jason, that you’re one of the people I’m losing myself to. It’s not just Jean-Claude, it’s all of you. I can fight one or two of you, but I can’t fight six of you. I’m outnumbered.”
    I opened the door and told the black-shirted guards that I needed bellmen. I didn’t go back into the bedroom. I didn’t want to talk to Jason anymore, and I didn’t want to gaze down at the bed with the two beautiful vampires in it. If I hadn’t been convinced that Vittorio wanted to kill me and mail my head somewhere, I’d have looked forward to the trip to Vegas. I needed some distance between me and the men in my life.

5
    Â 
    Â 
    THE PLANE LANDED in Vegas without me having hysterics. Brownie point for me. The really sad thing was that I flew better now if I had someone next to me, so while I was happy for some privacy, I also missed a boyfriend’s hand to hold. I couldn’t want to run away from them all and miss them, could I? I mean, that made no sense even to me.
    St. Louis is hot, but Vegas is hotter. They can say it’s a dry heat, but so is an oven. It was so hot that it took my breath away for a second. It was like my body just went, You’re joking, right? No, unfortunately, we were not only serious, but we’d be hunting vampires in this heat. Great.
    I slipped on sunglasses, as if that would make any difference to the heat, but it did help with the brightness.
    The pilot was helping me unload my luggage when I spotted a big man in uniform coming our way. He had a few other uniforms at his back. They kept a respectful distance, and I didn’t need to see the nameplate that said Undersheriff to make me guess it was Sheriff Shaw.
    Shaw was a big guy, with a hand that swallowed mine when we shook. His eyes were lost to me behind mirrored sunglasses, but then my eyes were lost to him, too. Sunglasses may look cool, but they hide one of the best ways to decipher another person. People can lie with a lot of themselves, but eyes can give a lot away—sometimes not by what they show you but when they go their most hidden. You can judge a lot by what a person wants to hide. Of course, we were all standing in the middle of a desert, so maybe the glasses weren’t for hiding anything, just for comfort.
    â€œFry and Reddick will get your bags,” Shaw said. “You can drive ahead with me.”
    â€œSorry, Sheriff, but once a warrant of execution is in effect and the hunt begins, I’m legally bound to keep my kit in sight, or secured by me, or with me watching, in an area out of sight of the general public.”
    â€œWhen did that change?” he asked.
    It was Grimes who answered, “About a month ago.”
    I nodded at the lieutenant. “I’m impressed you know that.”
    He actually smiled. “We’ve been going in with our local executioner for a year. It’s our job to know if the law has changed.”
    I nodded again. I didn’t say out loud that a lot of police still treated the preternatural branch of the marshal service as a lesser unit, or maybe an embarrassment. I couldn’t really blame the attitude; some of us were little better than assassins with badges, but the rest of us did our best.
    â€œWhat caused the change?” Shaw asked.
    I liked that he asked. Most wouldn’t. I answered this time. “A vampire hunter in Colorado left his bag of tricks on the backseat of his car, where some teenage joyriders stole it. They