Smolder (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, #29)(19)

“Not just the two of you, they want to take down your whole power structure, before the wedding.”

“Define power structure,” I said.

“All Jean-Claude’s businesses, Micah Callahan and his Coalition for Better Understanding between the Human and Lycanthrope Communities, Rafael and all the wererats, any shapeshifter seen as your ally or romantic partner.”

“They can’t kill shapeshifters by letting in some sunlight,” I said.

“No, and they know that, Blake.”

“Do you know specifics?” Dolph asked for me.

“They’re being cautious even online, but they keep talking about the one thing that kills all monsters. They keep saying that sunlight isn’t the only thing that burns.”

“Fire kills everything,” I said, and lifted my phone again.

“If you could contact everyone without using a phone or computer, that would be appreciated,”

McKinnon said.

“Are your analysts monitoring my phone calls?” I asked.

“That would be illegal to spy on American citizens,” McKinnon said.

“But if I make this phone call your bosses will know you told me without their permission.”

“Not just our people, but potentially the bad guys will know you know. They’re too computer-and tech-savvy to not be trying to hack into their targets’ electronic devices.”

“How do you think I can contact everyone without a phone?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as I studied his face.

He spread his hands a little like, I’m not a threat. “Ease down, Blake, I’m on your side.”

“Then stop pussyfooting around and just say shit, patience is never my best virtue, and subtle is not my skill set, talk like you know that.”

He almost smiled. “I wasn’t sure Dolph knew about all of your skills.”

Dolph said, “It’s okay, Pete, Anita and I worked out our differences about the supernatural stuff.

She and Jean-Claude had dinner with Lucille and me explaining things and then another meal at the house with Darren and his wife. It’s why he’s still alive to donate sperm for in vitro.”

“I thought vampires couldn’t carry a pregnancy,” McKinnon said.

I said, “They can’t, but we’ve got a surrogate lined up. If it works it will be the first surrogate for a vampire couple in the world.”

“And you’re good with all this?” he asked Dolph.

He nodded. “I am. Erica is only twenty years dead, she can talk all the same memories that Lucille and I have. Would I have chosen differently, yes, but I’ve never seen my son happier, and that’s gotta count for something.”

“That’s great, but last we talked in detail you said that you suspected that damn vampire had more of a hold on Anita than she let on, and if you learned he could see through her eyes at a crime scene you’d yank her badge if you could.”

I stared up at Dolph. “Really?” I said.

He looked embarrassed. “I wasn’t rational about vampires and shapeshifters back then, you know that. I’ll never be able to apologize enough for some of what I did while I was working through my grief about what I thought my son’s life would be versus the reality. You could have had my badge for some of what I did to you and your werewolf friend.”

“We worked it out,” I said.

“We did.” He looked at the other man. “I know she can contact her people mind to mind. She did it in front of me, Zerbrowski, and the SWAT people she works with most often. Not sure any of us shared that information with the other cops.”

“You’re all that loyal to her?”

“She’s earned it.”

“Even from the SWAT officers?”

“Apparently so, or more of the other cops would have talked by now,” Dolph said.

“How do you know?” I asked.

McKinnon looked away from me again, hiding his eyes. He did worry I could use Jean-Claude’s powers to read him or maybe even bespell him. I filed it away for another day.

“Does it matter?”

“It does, but right this second nothing matters as much as contacting my people, but put a pin in it, McKinnon, because I will ask again.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

I didn’t have to reach out to Jean-Claude, just focus on him more. He breathed through me, letting me know he’d heard most of it. He was incredibly careful when I was with the police, because there were a surprising number of them that had at least low-level psychic ability. It was their gut instinct that kept them from going down that dark alley, though they didn’t know why, and later they’d find the bad guy waiting for them. “Magic” could make their skin creep, or it spiked through them in a rush of adrenaline like an attack. Either way, Jean-Claude had learned to work around it more than anyone else I was metaphysically connected to, but then he’d had centuries more practice except for Damian.

The redheaded vampire was over five hundred years older than Jean-Claude, but he’d never be a master vampire like Jean-Claude or even like Asher. Damian had no animal to call and had never even tried to make a human servant like I was for Jean-Claude. Who’s best at something isn’t always about age and experience, sometimes it’s about ability. Jean-Claude had it, Damian didn’t.