"Yes," I said.
"Yes," he said.
"You're one of my closest friends, but I totally don't understand that."
"I know." He pulled into the parking lot with all the other police cars.
I finished the last bite of my breakfast and took another sip of Coke, because coffee tasted bad with Egg McMuffin. I wiped my hands on napkins.
He turned off the engine but didn't get out. I waited.
"You're not as ruthless as I am, but you kill as easily as I do."
"Thanks," I said, because I knew it was a compliment.
He gave me a small smile, I think to acknowledge that I was one of the few people on the planet who would have known it was a compliment.
"But if anything goes wrong, I know you'll see Donna and the kids right."
"You know I will, but it's not like you to be this morbid, Edward. You have a premonition?" I asked, and I was serious, because cops get those sometimes. A lot of them are a little bit psychic; it's one of the ways they stay alive.
"It's Peter. He needs me or someone like me to finish training him."
"You know I still don't approve of you training him to follow in the family business," I said.
"Being a marshal, you mean?"
"No games, Edward, not between us," I said.
He nodded. "He wants me to take him out of the country on a job when he turns eighteen, if I think he's ready."
"Will he be ready?" I asked.
He pursed his lips and then nodded. "I think so."
"You sound sad about that."
He nodded again. "You know how it is on hunts like that, Anita. Being good isn't enough."
"You have to be lucky, too," I said.
"I'm afraid that I'll be so worried about him I won't be careful enough."
"You're afraid if you take him that you'll get yourself killed protecting him and once you die, he'll die, too," I said.
"Yes," he said, and turned in the seat to look at me. His face was very serious, not blank, not angry, not threatening, just serious.
"Don't take him," I said.
"I can't back out on him now, Anita. It would destroy him."
I frowned at him, sipped my Coke, and tried to think. "What do you want me to say?"
"I'm about to ask a favor, one that I don't have the right to ask."
That surprised me, and it must have shown on my face. "What could you possibly ask that you don't have the right to ask?"
"Come with me on Peter's first hunt."
I blinked at him. I thought about a lot of things, but finally said, "When?"
"Next year, probably fall."
I nodded. "Just like deer season," I said.
"Yeah."
I nodded again. "I'll probably have to bring some of the bodyguards for me, and you know that I don't approve of what you're doing with Peter."
"But you'll still come," he said.
"Yes, I'll still come."
"I know that if you die, you risk pulling everyone you're metaphysically tied to down to the grave with you, everyone you love, and you'll still come."
I sighed. "I should talk to them first, to be honest, and I will, but we can't keep each other from living our lives; then we become prisoners, and none of us want that." I started putting all the trash in the little bag. "Besides, I think Jean-Claude is powerful enough to keep everyone alive. But if I'm going to risk all that out of the country, then we have to defeat the Mother of All Darkness and the Harlequin before next fall. I can't risk dying and letting her win."
He nodded. "Okay, I help you solve your problem first and then you help me with mine."
"Agreed."
He smiled, and it was a mixture of Edward's fierceness and Ted's good ol' boy. "I get to help you kill the oldest vampire on the planet who is just spirit, so we'll need magic to kill her."
"She may not be killable. We may only be able to trap her magically, but honestly no one's come up with anything that will work."
"So I help you do the impossible, and then you come on a much more mundane kill with me and Peter."
"I know you'll pick something tame for Peter's first hunt, so yeah, that about sums it up. You help me kill the unkillable, hunt and slaughter the most fearsome warriors and assassins known to either vampire or shapeshifter, and then I'll help you do something much easier." I smiled, I couldn't help it.
He shook his head. "It isn't the killing that will be hard with Peter, it's the emotional stuff."
"How's he doing?" I asked.
"He's my son," he said, but he didn't sound happy about it.
"You mean he's a ruthless, cold-blooded killer?"
"No, I mean he wants to be."
"Worse," I said.
"Much worse," he said.
"He's killed before when he needed to. He's saved my life and risked his own. He's a good man."
"He's a boy."
"Anyone who can stand shoulder to shoulder with me when the monsters are trying to kill us, and not flinch, isn't a boy, Edward. He's just young, and time will fix that."
"I hope so," Edward said.
I realized then what the real problem was. "You don't want to see him die."
"I don't want to get him killed."
"You won't get him killed, Edward."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I know that you won't take him unless you think his skills are up to the job. I know how good you are at training people for this; you helped train me. He's got good instincts and he's a shooter. He doesn't hesitate. He's brave as hell."