"It wasn't your fault, Anita. I was in Vegas. You're lucky to have lived through it, and so were the weretigers."
I shrugged. I put the rest of the food in the bag. My stomach was in a hard knot, and food just didn't sound good right then.
"Well, they're not living through it this time."
"It's not your fault that Mommie Darkest is making the bad vamps hunt weretigers."
"Maybe," I said.
"Oh, can the Catholic guilt."
"What does that mean?" I asked, glaring at him.
"It means that you do what you have to do, and you try to enjoy it along the way. It's what we all do."
"You were the one who teased me about Cynric," I said.
"That was because you were supposed to tell me to go to hell like you always do. You weren't supposed to actually let it bother you. If I'd realized you felt this bad about doing him, I'd have left it alone."
"Thanks, I guess," I said, and I stared out the window as he wove the car through the narrow streets.
"Why do you feel so bad about this one?"
"He's seventeen," I said.
"So, he'll be eighteen next year."
"He's a senior in high school, Bernardo. Jean-Claude is his legal guardian and had to enroll him in school. He comes home with homework and shit, and then he wants to cuddle and have sex. It weirds me the f**k out."
He was quiet as he wove through the progressively narrower streets. "You haven't even asked where we're going."
"To Edward," I said.
"Yeah, but we're not going to the police station, and you haven't asked why." He glanced at me. "You're a control freak. Why aren't you asking?"
I thought about the question, and finally said, "I don't know. I don't seem to care. I mean, I trust you, I trust Edward, and I even trust Olaf to do the job. I just don't trust him with me."
"You shouldn't," he said.
"Okay, are we going to a new crime scene, or what?" I asked.
"You ask, but not like you care, as if it doesn't matter at all. Things matter to you, Anita; it's one of your charms and irritations." He smiled, but I didn't feel the need to smile back.
"I think I'm homesick. I think I'm tired of chasing bad guys. Did Edward tell you his idea that Marmee Noir is killing the tigers so that I'll be away from St. Louis and all our people? The last one of her guards that talked to me said that she wants me alive. It's what saved us twice, I think. She doesn't want me dead."
"He mentioned some of it. Could she really possess your body?"
"She thinks she can."
"What do you think?" he asked.
"I think she might be able to."
"That would scare the hell out of me."
I nodded. "Trust me, Bernardo, I'm scared."
"You don't seem scared. You seem distracted."
"Maybe I don't know how to be scared. Maybe that's what the distraction is," I said.
"Whatever it is, you need to get your head in the game, Anita. We need you. Edward needs you, and you sure as hell want to bring your A-game when you meet Olaf."
"He still want me to be his serial killer girlfriend?" I asked.
"He still thinks you are his serial killer girlfriend."
"Great," I said.
"You haven't even asked if it's a new crime scene."
I looked at him, startled at last. "They've never killed twice in one city."
"No, they haven't."
I scowled at him. "Stop the games, Bernardo. Tell me where we're going and why the mystery."
"Edward called Jean-Claude."
I know my face looked as surprised as I felt. "Why?"
"Because he found a way for you to have bodyguards, and he thinks they can help us find these bastards."
That Edward approved that strongly of the guards Jean-Claude had working for us showed the best stamp of approval I could imagine. I knew they were good, but that Edward agreed with me was both cool and interesting.
"So we're going to meet them," I said.
"Yeah, but first Olaf and you get to say hi."
"Why?" I said.
"Because Olaf thinks you have a relationship with him, and if you meet him first and privately, he can keep that illusion. Edward's afraid of what Olaf will do if he realizes that you aren't ever going to be his girlfriend."
"I am not meeting privately with Serial Killer Guy."
"Edward and I will be there," he said. He'd found an empty space and was parallel parking like a pro, smooth, no hesitation.
"You live in the city," I said.
He killed the engine and turned to me. "Why, because I can parallel park?"
I nodded. "A city where that's the only parking you get to use most of the time, or you grew up where that was the only parking."
"Don't profile me, Anita."
"Sorry, can't I just be impressed with your parking skills?"
He seemed to think about that for a minute, then shrugged. "Then just say 'Good job' or something, don't speculate."
I nodded. "Okay, great job of parallel parking. I suck at it."
"Country girl," he said.
"Most of my life," I said.
"I told you more of my background the first time I met you than most people ever know. I think I thought the whole foster-care-system sob story would soften you up, but nothing makes you soft, not like that."
"I'll quote Raquel Welch: 'There aren't any hard women; only soft men.'"
"Lie," he said.
"In the normal world it's pretty true," I said.