Guilty Pleasures   ::   Гамильтон Лорел

“Bullshit, you're not sorry.”

“About trying to give Fields's card to the woman, no. I'm not sorry. I'd do it again.”

“I don't like to be undermined in front of my clients.”

I shrugged.

“I mean it, Anita. Don't ever do that again.”

I wanted to ask him, or what, but I didn't. “You aren't qualified to counsel people about whether or not they become the undead.”

“Bert thinks I am.”

“Bert would take money for a hit on the Pope if he thought he could get away with it.”

Jamison smiled, then frowned at me, then couldn't help himself and smiled again. “You do have a way with words.”

“Thanks.”

“Don't undermine me with clients, okay?”

“I promise never to interfere when you are discussing raising the dead.”

“That isn't good enough,” he said.

“It's the best you're going to get. You are not qualified to counsel people. It's wrong.”

“Little Miss Perfect. You murder people for money. You're nothing but a damned assassin.”

I took a deep breath, and let it out. I would not fight with him today. “I execute criminals with the full blessing of the law.”

“Yeah, but you enjoy it. You get your jollies by pounding in the stakes. You can't go a fucking week without bathing in someone's blood.”

I just stared at him. “Do you really believe that?” I asked.

He wouldn't look at me but finally said, “I don't know.”

“Poor little vampires, poor misunderstood creatures. Right? The one who branded me slaughtered twenty-three people before the courts would give me the go-ahead.” I yanked my shirt down to expose the collarbone scar. “This vampire had killed ten people. He specialized in little boys, said their meat was most tender. He's not dead, Jamison. He got away. But he found me last night and threatened my life.”

“You don't understand them.”

“No!” I shoved a finger in his chest. “You don't understand them.”

He glared down at me, nostrils flaring, breath coming in warm gasps. I stepped back. I shouldn't have touched him; that was against the rules. You never touch anyone in a fight unless you want violence.

“I'm sorry, Jamison.” I don't know if he understood what I was apologizing for. He didn't say anything.

As I walked past him, he asked, “What are the files for?”

I hesitated, but he knew the files as well as I did. He'd know what was missing. “The vampire murders.