I blinked up at him, from where I’d finally curled up on the street. I was tired and didn’t see a reason not to sit down, some of the Mobile Reserve guys were kneeling. “A little,” I said.
The two men closest to me, Killian of the white, buzz cut, and Jung, who was the only green-eyed Asian American I’d ever met, both moved away from me, as if they didn’t want to be too close when the blood started to fly. I noticed that Melbourne stayed where he was next to Hudson, as if he expected the blood flow to be one-sided.
“There’s the street, Blake, start walking.”
“You asked the question, Sergeant. If you didn’t want an honest answer, you should have warned me.”
Someone laughed, low enough that I wasn’t sure who’d done it, and neither, apparently, was Hudson, because he didn’t try to find out who’d laughed, he just used it as an excuse to be more pissed at me.
Hudson took a step toward me. I stood up.
“If we’re boring you, Blake, then go home. We don’t need your attitude, we got enough of our own.” His voice was low and even, and every word was very carefully enunciated. I knew that oh-so-careful tone. It was the voice you used instead of screaming or hitting something.
“Dawn Morgan may still be alive in there,” I said. “But every minute we wait cuts her chances of survival. You can hate that your captain let me come, you can fucking hate me, I don’t care, but let’s get this done. I’d like to get to Dawn before it’s too late, Sergeant Hudson. Just once, I’d like not to be the cleanup crew and be there early enough to have something left to rescue.”
He blinked solid brown eyes at me that matched the mustache and close-cropped hair. My own hair was back in a ponytail. They had handed me a helmet, and hair nearly to your waist just didn’t fit in helmets without being pulled back in some fashion. I’d have cut my hair months ago, but Micah said if I cut mine, he’d cut his, the threat had left me with the longest hair of my life. I looked like a short, curvy hippie among the militaryesque haircuts and very masculine figures around me. Even stuffing me into one of their vests couldn’t hide that I so didn’t match everyone else. There are moments when I suddenly feel awkward again, not a cop, not a man, not part of this great brotherhood. Just a girl, just a voodoo dabbler, who no one trusts at their back. It had been years since I’d felt this bad about it. Maybe it was the borrowed equipment, which didn’t really fit, or maybe it was Arnet and Dolph being mad at me, or maybe it was just that I believed what was in Hudson’s eyes. I didn’t belong here. I wasn’t a tactical anything. I didn’t know how they did business. I wasn’t part of their team, and part of me understood that no matter how many friends I had that were cops, and no matter that I had a badge, that there would always be more cops that thought I didn’t belong than ones who did. I would always and forever be the outsider, no matter what I did. Part of it was gender, part of it was my day job, part of it was fucking the monsters, and part of it was just simply that I didn’t belong. I didn’t follow orders, or keep my mouth shut, or play the political game. I would have never survived as a real policeperson, I just couldn’t play the game by anyone else’s rules. Police, real police, understand and live by the rules. I spent most of my life going, rules, what rules? I stood there and looked at Hudson, held his gaze, his anger, and I just wasn’t angry. Too much of me agreed with his anger for me to get angry back.
“A badge doesn’t make you a cop, Blake. You have no discipline. If you get any of my people killed because you were hotdogging it, you will not like the next talk we have.”
I wasn’t really enjoying this talk very much, but I didn’t say that out loud either. I was getting smarter, or more tired, or maybe I just didn’t care enough anymore. Who the hell knew? I stood my ground, and I felt nothing. My voice was empty of all the emotion his was carrying when I said, “What if you get your people killed because you didn’t let me do my job to the best of my ability? Do I get to have a talk with you then?”
All the men around me just moved back, in unison, as if minimum safe distance was suddenly a real concern. He spoke through his teeth, and the anger turned his brown eyes nearly black. “And what exactly is your job, Blake?”
“I’m a vampire hunter.”
He came toward me slowly, and Melbourne actually touched his shoulder, as if it was getting out of hand. Hudson just looked at the hand, and the hand went away. Everyone was treating Hudson like he was a very scary guy. He wasn’t the biggest, or the most muscled, or anything, but he wore his authority like some sort of invisible coat; it was just there. If he hadn’t hated me, I’d have respected it, but he made it impossible for me to see him as anything but an obstacle.
He spoke from inches in front of me, each word pushed into my face, careful as a blow, “You-are-a-fuck-ing-assassin.”
I looked up into his face, almost close enough to kiss, and said, “Yeah, sometimes, sometimes, I am.”
He blinked at me, puzzlement filling his eyes, chasing back the anger. “That was an insult, Blake.”
“I try never to get insulted by the truth, Sergeant.” I gave him mild eyes and willed myself to feel nothing, because if I let myself feel anything I was going to be sad, and if I teared up, or worse, cried, that would be it. They wouldn’t let me play, not if I cried.
I’d cried because Jessica Arnet thought I was corrupting Nathaniel.
I’d cried because of having to kill Jonah Cooper. What the fuck was wrong with me tonight? Usually the only thing that made me cry was Richard.
He shook his head. “You will just slow us down, Blake.”
“I’m immune to vampire powers,” I said.
“We will clear this entire structure in less than a minute. We know not to make eye contact, and we are cleared to treat all approaching vampires inside as hostiles. There won’t be time for them to do any tricks on us.”
I nodded, as if I really understood how they could possibly clear an entire condo, the size of a small house, in less than a minute.
“Fine, you don’t think you need me to help with the vampires, fine.”
He blinked again, and he couldn’t hide the fact that I’d caught him off guard a second time in almost as many minutes. “You’ll wait outside?”
“What happens to your speed record, if you have to treat the vampires like human beings?” I asked.
“They’re legal citizens, that makes them human beings.”
“Yeah, but can you clear the place in less than a minute if you have to take the time to subdue maybe upwards of seven vampires, at least one a master? If you think I’ll slow you down, Hudson, trust me, they’ll slow you down a lot more than I will.”
Melbourne spoke over Hudson’s shoulder, “We’ve been green-lighted. Everything vampire in there is target.”
I shook my head and looked at Melbourne, as if Hudson wasn’t still looming over me. “When warrants of execution first came into existence, one of the main concerns was that they would turn the police of this country into nothing more than fucking assassins, so the warrants are worded very carefully. If the legal executioner is with you and we are in danger then you may use any and all means to execute this warrant, but if the legal executioner is not with you, then the warrant is not in effect.” I turned back to look at Hudson, and I was beginning to get a little angry, at last. Good, that was better than tears. “Which means if you go in without me and shoot any damn body, that you’ll be up on review, or leave, or some motherfucking shit. Hesitate against vampires, and you risk your life and the lives of your men. Don’t hesitate against the vampires, and you may lose your job, your pension, or even see jail time. Depends on the judge, the lawyer, the political climate of the city at the time of the incident.” I was almost smiling, because I was telling the absolute truth.