Anita Blake 24 - Dead Ice by Laurell K. Hamilton Read Free Book Online

come from nobility, or at least centuries when nobility flaunted it if they had it; not to drench yourself in jewels and rich clothes meant you were poor. Jean-Claude had to be the king, and that meant we needed something worthy of a king and his queen. I was incredibly uncomfortable with some of the rings we’d looked at in this category, but he’d finally convinced me that it was a necessary thing. I could never envision wearing a ring like that without being terrified I’d lose a stone, or damage it in some way. I felt like a small dog dressed up in clothes; they walk very stiffly, because they just don’t feel like themselves anymore. It may look good, but a dog would still rather be chasing squirrels. You can’t do that in little doggie booties and a tutu.
    “You are a very lucky woman,” she said, and she meant it. It made me wonder if there was a Mr. Manning back home. A lot of cops don’t wear wedding bands to work, so the fact that her finger was empty didn’t prove anything.
    “Thank you. I’m still a little amazed that Jean-Claude is my fiancé.”
    “Why?” she asked.
    “I’d sort of given up on the idea of marrying anyone, and he’s just so gorgeous. On the attractive scale I feel like a three who somehow landed a twenty bazillion.” I grinned as I said it, but I meant it.
    Manning narrowed her eyes at me. “Every beautiful woman knows just how beautiful she is, and you are not a three.”
    “Try standing next to Jean-Claude and see how high up the pretty scale you feel.”
    She laughed then. “Okay, I’ll give you that one. He just seems perfect.”
    I nodded. “He’s close, and I so don’t feel perfect.”
    “You’re only human, and he’s not.”
    I nodded again. “Well, there is that,” I said.
    I got to leave with everyone still smiling, though Zerbrowski was watching me a little too closely. He knew I’d told the truth about the jeweler, but he was also pretty certain that I’d thought of something about the case I hadn’t shared. He trusted me enough to let me get away with it tonight, but by tomorrow he’d ask. So after the jeweler appointment and the zombie I had to raise later tonight at my other job, I’d need to call Manny Rodriguez, friend and coworker at Animators Inc., and remind him of a time in his life when he’d been one of the bad guys.

6
    T HE CIRCUS OF the Damned had revitalized an older warehouse district, because one wildly successful business will attract more new businesses and customers. I sometimes wondered what would have happened to this section of St. Louis if Jean-Claude hadn’t opened the Circus here. It would probably be like some other sections of the old warehouse district, the kind of place where the police will only come in groups. The huge building towered over the area like a big brother that kept all the bullies away. The three dancing clowns on top were frozen in the fading light. If you looked closely you’d notice the clowns all had fangs, and their multicolored outfits seemed more garish without darkness to soften them, so maybe it was a weird older brother, but it still kept the neighborhood safe and had brought the whole area more upscale.
    I had no trouble finding parking right out front because it was hours from opening. An hour before dusk and I’d have had to park in the employees’ parking lot out back. I walked past the big carnival posters that covered the front of the building. Posters twenty feet high proclaimed,
The Lamia, half snake, half woman!
, showing a garish but accurate image of Melanie, her long black hair swept discreetly over her very human breasts. The image didn’t do justice to the multicolored scales of her tail, or how dangerous her venom was; I’d have deported her back to Greece, but Jean-Claude knew a moneymaker when he saw it, and he’d been right. Melanie had behaved herself since I’d freed her of the big bad vampire that had been her master.
See the Skinless, Formless Monster!
was a florid