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peed on.
Billy, cautiously, said, "Joanie, maybe you should just get out of the way," which for some reason pissed me off
beyond belief. What was I, the fragile female who needed protecting?
It was a good enough question that I repeated it out loud: "What the hell is wrong with you two? Do you think I
need a big strong guy to take care of me, or something?"
"I said this isn't about you, Wal "
I said, "Oh for Christ's sake," and made like Moses and the Red Sea.
A shimmering silvery-blue wash of magic flared on either side of me, right in Morrison's and Coyote's faces. I
expected Coyote to see it. I was more surprised when Morrison's eyes widened, but I straight-armed both of
them before he had a chance to speak. Sheets of magic pushed Coyote up against the door and Morrison all the
way back to his desk, which hit him in the ass and stopped his backward slide. "Have I got your attention now,
gentlemen?"
I pretty clearly had everybody's attention. Gratifyingly, both objects of my pique nodded obediently. So did
Billy, for that matter. I felt a nudge of resistance against my magic from Coyote's quarters, and glared at him.
The probe faded away and he looked genuinely contrite.
"Good. Let me make something clear. I don't require rescuing. I don't require protecting. I frequently require
help, which this pissing-match behavior in no way qualifies as. Now understand something else. I found out the
hard way that this power of mine doesn't cotton to being used as a weapon." Cotton to. Get my dander up and I
fell just a smidge toward the Southern in my choice of dialect and dialogue. It wasn't my fault. Four years in
North Carolina will do that to a girl.
Morrison was looking slightly relieved around the eyes, which wasn't what I was after. I stopped dissecting my
own verbal tics and finished my explanation: "I'm pretty sure bashing the two of you up against the walls a few
times wouldn't actually trigger a super-psychic alarm saying oh my God, Joanne's using her powers for evil, but
I'd kind of like to see if I'm right. Anybody else interested?"
For some reason they all three shook their heads rapidly. I thought they weren't any fun at all. Still pissed off, I
let the magic go. Morrison, whose posture had been extremely erect while I'd held him in place, sagged a little,
then scowled at Coyote. "Couldn't you stop her?"
"Couldn't you?"
I'd become the common enemy. It wasn't exactly what I'd been going for, but it was better than the two of them
at each other's throats. Billy just gaped at me like I'd sprouted another arm, or a second head. Apparently
ostentatious displays of power were not what he'd come to expect from his partner in crime. Anti-crime.
Whatever.
I turned to Morrison and said, "Sorry," with about as much emotional integrity as he could expect after
behaving like a hormone-ridden teenager. "Boss, this hunting party is the best shot we've got at stopping this
thing. I'm your best shot at it. We know I'm going anyway, so may I please have permission?"
Morrison suddenly looked older than his thirty-eight years. I probably would, too, if I had me to deal with on a
regular basis. "How often are we going to do this, Walker? How many times are you going to walk into my
office and tell me how it is, even if it's against every rule and regulation we stand by?"
"I don't know." I wasn't angry anymore. I wasn't bubbling over with goofy happies, either. I was almost sad,
really, like I was losing something I barely recognized. "Until neither of us can take it anymore, I guess."
The captain looked between me and Coyote, and when he looked back at me again I wasn't sure we were still
talking about the same thing, even though nothing more had been said to change the slant of what I'd just
offered.
More, and worse, something subtle happened in Coyote's face, as if he'd heard and understood the change in
subtext, too. My heart spasmed and I glanced away from both of them.
That might have been okay, except there was somebody else in the room, and he'd followed the unspoken
conversation just as clearly as the rest of us had. Billy met my gaze with the deepest, most tempered expression
of compassion I'd ever seen, and the small sadness inside me burgeoned into something so big I had a hard time
swallowing around it.
Billy was the one who broke the silence, which hadn't dragged out for long, but a lot had been said inside it, and
none of it had been easy to hear. "You want me along on this, Joanne?"
His timing was perfect. Half a second earlier I wouldn't have trusted my voice. Half a second later I'd have
fallen over into a sniffle that would've belied my tough-girl antics. "I think it'll be just me and Cyrano on this
one. Thanks, though." I looked in Morrison's general direction without actually going so far as to meet his eyes.
"We'll rent a car, or something. Keep it off the department books entirely."
"Something happen to Petite?"
I hadn't fully realized Morrison knew my car's name. I mean, yes, her license plate said PETITE in big block
letters, but given he felt my relationship with her was pathological, I wouldn't have expected to hear him call
her by name. A pinprick hole released some of the ache inside me, and I crooked a smile. "She's in the garage.
The insurance paid up after that Doherty guy came by in October, so I've got enough money to switch out her
transmission to a manual. It's my winter project."
There was no way on earth Morrison cared about any of that. I'd never met an American male with less interest
in cars than my boss. But he nodded like it meant something to him, then nodded a second time, this time at the
door. Not at Coyote. At the door. And said, "Take care of yourself, Walker."
"Yes, sir." I left his office with Coyote on my trail, confusingly aware that last time I'd walked away from
Morrison with another man, he'd told the guy to take care of me. I had the uncomfortable sensation that last [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]