Smolder (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, #29)(24)

6

I DEBATED ON WHOM to call but finally called Claudia. She was head of the overall security for us, but she was hands-on in charge of security at the Circus of the Damned where Jean-Claude lived and daytime-slept most of the time. It was the most secure location we had, but it was also the biggest target, because too many people knew it was Jean-Claude’s daytime lair. You can’t keep a secret hideout hidden if anyone but you knows about it, and a lot more than just Jean-Claude and I knew about the rooms under the Circus.

I found a relatively empty piece of hotel hallway and hit her number in my favorites. Claudia was fast becoming the best female friend I had who wasn’t also a girlfriend.

“Anita, how’s the best man fitting going?” Her voice was half laughing, because there was a betting pool among the guards who knew Edward. Money on him hating it and refusing to wear it, hating and wearing it for me, loving the clothes (not the safe bet), and hating them and wearing them anyway and looking good in them. That last was where I’d put my money.

“I’m just glad we didn’t choose orange and black like some people thought, as if marrying a vampire has to be Halloween themed,” I said. Orange was the code word for communications, and me saying it in a sentence that meant nothing, really, meant that I believed the communications might be compromised. It wasn’t just my code word; if anyone else had called me and used orange in a sentence it would have meant the same thing. If it had been someone talking about groceries or ordering orange chicken from a Chinese restaurant they would have used the word orange twice to let me know it wasn’t accidental.

Claudia’s voice was a lot less happy when she said, “Someone even suggested purple and orange, remember?” Purple was code for physical safety, her way of asking if it was just communications or was our safety compromised, too.

“I remember, but so not happening. If you know Jean-Claude you know it has to be black and white. I thought it would look like a damn zebra crossing, but it’s actually looking awesome.” Zebra was code for Safety is fucked, too.

“Awesome is good, glad you talked Jean-Claude out of you both in gold at the altar,” she said.

Gold was code for her asking if someone was in immediate danger.

A couple of uniformed officers trailed past me with a glance; there was more than one reason to use codes. More and more people, mostly police, were clustering around the murder room. I eased farther down the hallway away from it all as I answered Claudia. “No way on the gold, we’d have

looked like shiny Christmas ornaments under the lights.” Christmas was code for I’m okay currently, or not under duress and I don’t need rescuing. I even managed a chuckle about the thought of us all shiny for the wedding.

“Thanks for not making me be in the wedding; I’d have towered over everyone else like a giraffe.”

The last word was the important part; she was asking if the danger was immediate somewhere else, as in did I know where the attack was coming or was it happening like now? How high was the threat level? Was it giraffe high?

I managed to laugh again. “Trust me, Claudia, I don’t want to play delicate gazelle in the damn dress.” Gazelle meant the threat wasn’t happening immediately. “We’re still arguing over the last details of my dress and the flowers. He wants all white flowers, but with us in white I want more color.” Color was code for chaos, or I don’t know, or I’m not a hundred percent sure that my gazelle isn’t a giraffe.

A door opened farther down the hall. I heard a woman’s voice that sounded like she was crying. A second woman’s voice, more soothing, said, “You saved lives today.”

“You could have gone for just greenery, fewer choices,” Claudia said, trying to ask me if I knew what the threat level was when it did happen. Since the wedding clothes really were black and white neither color could be a code word; we used them too often, which was why zebra came into the sequence. Green was the lowest threat level since white was off the board. Green, yellow, orange, red was the sequence of escalating badness.

The door to the room with the women in it was still open; I realized there was a uniformed officer propping the door open by standing in it. She was looking down the hallway like she was expecting someone. I avoided her gaze just in case she thought I was who she was expecting. I had my badge on a lanyard around my neck and was wearing my U.S. Marshal windbreaker over everything, so it wasn’t like I could pretend to be a civilian.

“Orange flowers would have looked great with the black side of things, but only okay with the white and it’s hard to find orange flowers that either of us likes.” Claudia knew I thought the threat level was going to be bad when it happened, but not the worst. Then I realized that I didn’t have enough information from McKinnon to be certain of that, so I added, “Though there are so many colors to choose from and flowers have to be fresh, so we have more time to decide on that than anything else.” I’d said color, or colors, again, which meant I wasn’t certain on the threat level being orange; it could be red, or yellow.

“How about yellow or red flowers?” she asked.

“Yellow would look good with the black, but not so great with the white, but red is the leading contender for the flowers in my bouquet.”

“I think red roses against a white dress with your coloring would look very Snow White.” Color again; how sure was I that it was going to be red? If I repeated red again she’d know to take maximum security measures. Snow White was her way of asking if the danger was aimed at only one person.