writing death poetry. I'm not real happy with the nickname either. But what is it about Cynric that bothers Olaf?"
"I think it's the age."
"Because he's a teenager, or the age difference between him and me?" Edward said, "Your guess is as good as mine. He wouldn't talk about it, but he asked more questions about Cynric. He wanted to know if the rumor that you'd moved a teenage boy in with you as a lover was true."
"He asked it like that?" I asked.
Edward seemed to think about it, and then nodded. "He asked, 'Is it true Anita has a teenage boy living with her?' I said it was, and then he asked, 'Is he truly her lover?' Again, I said yes."
"Has he ever asked about any other specific lovers before?" I asked.
"No, just if you had as many lovers as the rumors say you do; to that, I said, no one could be fucking that many men."
"You didn't want to tell him how many men I was sleeping with," I said.
"Part of Olaf's hatred of women comes from thinking they're all manipulative whores. You weren't having sex with anyone when he met you, so that helped him not have issues with you. I thought it was probably good to leave numbers of lovers vague."
I couldn't really argue with his reasoning, but... "Do you think I've gone over some magic line in Olaf's mind? Am I not his girlfriend anymore, but just another whore that he'll want to kidnap, torture, rape, and kill?"
Edward took off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes with finger and thumb. He shook his head. "I don't know, Anita, honestly I just don't know."
"Well, crap, that could complicate things," I said.
"And you broke his wrist, so he's going to be trying to prove that you're not better at this job than he is; almost any man would."
"I didn't mean to make it worse, Edward."
"I know." He looked at me, his blue eyes pale and tired under the shade of his cowboy hat. I still couldn't get used to the fact that "Ted" wore a cowboy hat and Edward didn't. Edward didn't like hats. He put his sunglasses at the back of his shirt, rather than the front. They were less in the way for shooting back there.
"What do you want me to do about him?"
"Hell, Anita, I don't know. If he's decided you're just another whore, then you can never, ever work with him again. And he may try to go after you for real."
"You mean make me one of his victims," I said.
"Yes."
We looked at each other. "So I don't check on him at the hospital when I talk to Karlton?"
He shook his head, took off his hat, and ran his hands through his hair. He put the hat back on and moved it until it was back at the same comfortable angle it started at. He was being Ted more than himself the last few years; maybe Edward liked hats, too, now?
"I don't like you being at the hospital at all with Olaf there, Anita."
"You're not asking me to skip the talk with Karlton, are you?"
He shook his head. "I know better."
"Because I can't let fear of Olaf prevent me from doing my job."
"Holding Karlton's hand isn't your job, Anita."
"No, but I don't want Micah in this city with the Harle . . . shit, them here. He'd be a hostage, or a target."
"Agreed," Edward said.
"Then that leaves me to do it."
"I know you'll be careful."
"Like a virgin on her wedding night," I said.
He smiled, but it left his blue eyes untouched. He reached back and unhooked his sunglasses from the back of his shirt. He slid the glasses over his eyes so I couldn't see how cold and unhappy they were. "I don't want to kill Olaf until after he's helped us catch these bastards."
It was perfectly him to say he didn't want to kill him until after, not that he didn't want to kill Olaf, but just not now, not before the big man had been useful on the case.
"You do your bleeding-heart routine for Karlton. I'll try to send Newman with you, and you try to leave both of them at the hospital."
"He wasn't useless in the woods, Edward."
"No, but he's new, fresh out of training, which means he won't bend the rules like we do."