The Killing Dance: An Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Novel by Hamilton Laurell K

Author:Hamilton, Laurell K. [Hamilton, Laurell K.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 1997-05-31T16:00:00+00:00

20

* * *

THE hospital room was soft mauve with paintings of flowers on the wall. The bed had a mauve bedspread and pink sheets. Monica lay in the bed hooked up to an IV and two different kinds of monitors. A strap across her belly monitored the contractions. Gratefully, the lines had gone flat. The other monitor was the baby’s heartbeat. The sound had scared me at first; too fast, like the heart of a small bird. When the nurses assured me the heartbeat was normal, I relaxed. After nearly two hours, the frantic beat had become a comforting sound like white noise.

Monica’s auburn hair was plastered in wet tendrils to her forehead. Her careful makeup was smeared across her face. They had been forced to give her a sedative, though it wasn’t great for the baby. She had fallen into a light, almost feverish sleep. Her head turned, eyes flicking behind her lids, mouth working, caught in some dream, a very bad dream probably, after the night she’d had. It was almost two o’clock, and I still had to go to the station and make my statement to Detective Greeley. Catherine was on her way to take my place at Monica’s bedside. I’d be glad to see her.

I had little crescent nail marks on my right hand. Monica had clung to it like it was all that was holding her together. At the worst of the contractions, when it looked like Monica would lose her baby as well as her husband, her long, painted nails had bitten into me, and only when blood trickled down my hand in fine crimson lines did a nurse say something. When Monica calmed down, they had insisted on messing with the wounds. They’d used the cartoon bandages they kept for the babies, so that my hand was covered in Mickey Mouse and Goofy.

There was a television on a shelf on the wall, but I hadn’t turned it on. The only sounds were the whirr of air circulating through the vents and the baby’s heartbeat.

A uniformed cop stood outside the door. If Robert had been killed by a hate group, then Monica and the baby were possible targets. If he’d been killed for personal reasons, Monica might know something. Either way, she was in danger. So they’d put a guard on her. Fine with me, since all I had left was a knife. I was really missing my guns.

The phone on the bedside table rang, and I flung myself out of the chair, scrambling for it, terrified that it would wake Monica. I cupped the receiver against my mouth and spoke quietly while my pulse pounded. “Yes?”

“Anita?” It was Edward.

“How did you know where I was?”

“All that matters is that if I can find you, so can someone else.”

“Is the contract still on?”

“Yes.”

“Damn. What about the time deadline?”

“Expanded to forty-eight hours.”

“Well, shit. Aren’t they determined.”

“I think you should go underground for awhile, Anita.”

“You mean hide?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you wanted me to be bait.”

“If you stay out as bait, we need more bodyguards.

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