[Anita Blake 17] - Skin Trade Read Free

what else to say, but there was that electric jolt that got through the shock for a second. I knew that jolt; it was fear.
    â€œ ‘Creepy,’ that’s the best you can do? This vampire sent you a human head. Will it mean more to you if I tell you it’s the head of our local vampire executioner?”
    I thought about that for a few breaths, felt that jolt again—somewhere between an electric shock and the sensation of champagne in your veins. “What word would make you happy, Shaw? Did he take any souvenirs from any of the other officers?”
    â€œYou mean, did he decapitate anyone else?”
    â€œYeah, that’s what I mean.”
    â€œNo. He and his monsters killed three operators, but the bodies were not used for souvenir hunting.”
    â€œOperators . . . so the vamp executioner was with your SWAT?”
    â€œAll warrants of execution are considered high risk, so SWAT helps deliver the message.”
    â€œYeah, they’re talking about that in St. Louis, too.” I was still unsure how I felt about them forcing me to take SWAT on vampire hunts. Part of me was happy for the backup, and another part was totally against it. The last time SWAT had backed me, some of them died. I didn’t like being responsible for more people. Also, it was always a chore to convince them I was worthy to put my shoulder beside theirs and hit that door.
    â€œIf our men killed any of the monsters, we don’t have any evidence to prove it. It looks like our people dropped where they stood.”
    I didn’t know what to say to that, so I ignored it. “How long ago did all this happen?”
    â€œYesterday, no, night before last, yeah. I’ve been up for a while; it starts to make you lose track.”
    â€œI know,” I said.
    â€œWhat the hell did you do to this vampire to make him like you this much?”
    â€œI have no idea. Maybe let him get away and not chase him. Oh, hell, Shaw, you know there’s no logic to these nut-bunnies.”
    â€œNut-bunnies,” he said.
    â€œFine, serial killers. Dead or alive they operate on a logic all their own. It doesn’t make sense to the rest of us because we’re not nut-bunnies.”
    He made a sound that I think was a laugh. “No, we’re not nut-bunnies, yet. The papers and television say you killed a bunch of his people.”
    â€œI had help. Our SWAT was with me. They lost men.”
    â€œI’ve looked up the articles, but frankly, I thought you’d take credit and not mention the police.”
    â€œThey went in with me. They risked their lives. Some of them died. It was bad. I don’t think I’d forget that.”
    â€œRumor has it that you’re a publicity sl—hound,” he said, changing the word he was going to use to something less offensive.
    I actually laughed, which was a good sign. I wasn’t completely in shock, yea! “I’m not a publicity hound, or a publicity slut, Sheriff Shaw. Trust me, I get way more media attention than I want.”
    â€œFor someone who doesn’t want the attention, you get a hell of a lot of it.”
    I shrugged, realized he couldn’t see it, and said, “I’m involved with some pretty gruesome cases, Sheriff; it attracts the media.”
    â€œYou’re also a beautiful young woman and are dating the master of your city.”
    â€œDo I thank you for the beautiful comment before or after I tell you that my personal life is none of your concern?”
    â€œIt is if it interferes with your job.”
    â€œCheck the record, Sheriff Shaw. I’ve killed more vampires since I’ve been dating Jean-Claude than I did before.”
    â€œI heard you’ve refused to do stakings in the morgue.”
    â€œI’ve lost my taste for putting a stake through the heart of someone chained and helpless on a gurney.”
    â€œThey’re asleep, or whatever, right?”
    â€œNot always, and trust me,