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Taxi?"
He looked at me, the look was eloquent. "In Myerton, I don't think so."
"Damn," I said. "Drive us to the cabins then. I'll take the van back into town."
"With Jason?" Jamil said.
I nodded. "With Jason." I looked at him. "Why is everyone so solicitous of me? I mean, I know there may be problems, but you guys are being awful cautious." I sat up straighter in the seat and stared at the side of Jamil's face. He was watching the road like his life depended on it.
"What aren't you guys telling me?"
He hit his turn signal and waited for a pickup truck to go past, then turned left between yet more trees. "It'll take longer to get to the cabins."
"Jamil, what is going on?"
Cherry tried her best to sink into the seat, but when you're model tall and in the middle, it's hard to play invisible. That one body movement told me she knew, too. That they both knew something I didn't.
I looked at her. "Cherry, tell me what's going on."
She sighed and sat up a little straighter. "If anything happens to you, Jean-Claude's going to kill us."
I frowned at her. "I don't understand."
"Jean-Claude couldn't come here himself," Jamil said. "It would be seen as an act of war. But he's worried about you. He told us all that if we let you get killed, and he survives your death, he'll kill us, all of us." He watched the road as he talked, turning onto a gravel road that was so narrow that trees brushed the sides of the van.
"Define all ," I said.
"All of us," Jamil said. "We're your bodyguards."
"I thought you were Richard's bodyguard?" I said.
"And you're his lupa, his mate."
"If you're a real bodyguard, you can't guard two people. You can only guard one at a time."
"Why?" Cherry asked.
I looked at Jamil. He didn't answer, so I did.
"Because you can't take a bullet for more than one person, and that's what a bodyguard does."
Jamil nodded. "Yeah, that's what a bodyguard does."
"You really think anyone's going to be shooting at Anita?"
"The bullet's a metaphor," Jamil said. "But it doesn't matter. Bullet, knife, claws, whatever it is, I take it." He pulled into a wide gravel turnaround and a huge clearing. There were small, white, boxy cabins scattered around the clearing like a Motel 6 that had been cut into pieces. There was a neon sign, pale in the sunlight, that said Blue Moon Cabins.
"Anita is our Nimir-ra. She's supposed to protect us, not the other way around."
I agreed with her.
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