Affliction (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter) - Laurell K. Hamilton Page 0,197

tall, dark, and handsome, and very African, which made his name jarring. Someone who looked like he should have been hunting lions with a spear shouldn’t have been named the Irish equivalent of James. He blinked rich, brown eyes at me. If hyenas hadn’t had slit pupils, more like you think a reptile would have, you could have mistaken the eyes for human, but the pupils were wrong and the color was odd. It wasn’t coppery red like the werebear Goran, but it wasn’t human brown either. I wasn’t sure I could explain the difference, but I was beginning to know it when I saw it.

I’d been informed that the vampire, Jane, that he called master had made him his animal to call hundreds of years ago and had forced him into animal form at one point until his eyes had never changed back. They, like Micah’s, were stuck. It just seemed worse that Seamus’s master had done it. I’d helped Micah escape from Chimera by killing him. There was no escape for Seamus, because if his master died, very likely he’d die, too. He wouldn’t have been my choice for rounding out our little party of crime busters. It wasn’t his fighting skills I questioned, because I’d seen him in the practice ring. He was eerily graceful for such a tall, long-limbed man. Fredo had described him as ‘dark water,’ because of how liquidly he moved. The nickname had stuck and some of the guards called him Water. He didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t seem to mind anything. He was a big, dark, graceful killing machine who seemed to have fewer emotions than all the other sociopaths.

Hatfield watched him out of the corner of her eye, her hand moving toward her duty weapon without her really thinking about it. He was just so big, so self-contained, and so neutral that it was actually unnerving. It was nice to see that I wasn’t the only one who thought it was unsettling.

If there had been more strangers with us, Nicky and I wouldn’t have kept hugging each other, but Hatfield was going to have to either get used to it or tag along with someone else. I needed the cuddles.

‘What the hell happened here?’ she asked.

‘The nice older couple got eaten alive by zombies,’ I said.

She gave a small shudder. ‘I know that, but why is the table in front of the door and the broken window covered? I mean … shouldn’t that have kept the zombies out?’

The fact that she had figured out the puzzling part made me like her even more. ‘Yes, it should have.’

‘Even if there was a reason for them to put the table and dresser back in place, that would have trapped them in the house, and they weren’t trapped in the house. They ate the victims and then they left,’ Edward said.

‘So how did they get out?’ I asked.

‘Did you see the corkboard with all the keys in a row?’ Lisandro asked.

We all nodded or said, ‘Yes.’

‘Want to see if the house key is there?’

‘They’ll have a spare,’ I said. ‘They’re just that kind of people.’

‘Okay, then let’s check and see if their keys are here. Personal keys have stuff on them, they aren’t just bare keys,’ he said.

‘Did anyone see the lady’s purse?’ I asked.

No one had.

‘Let’s find her purse,’ Edward said.

I didn’t want to go back in the house with the smell and the happy parade of pictures. Nicky didn’t want to go back in either. For once even Edward looked a little worn around the edges. The only one who seemed unmoved by it all was Seamus. I would have asked Nicky if he found the other man’s lack of emotional affect bothersome, but he’d have said no.

The other two houses that we’d seen had held the remains of dead bodies; they’d been broken into, but they hadn’t been barricaded. As attacks by killer zombies went, the other two houses had been normal. The only puzzle was this one, so we went back inside to figure it out, because that was what we did when we weren’t shooting things or setting them on fire.

60

We couldn’t find her current purse. Hatfield suggested that not every woman carried a purse, but we couldn’t find her wallet, a change purse, any form of identification. We found her husband’s wallet with his ID, money, and credit cards all intact on the bedside table, where it looked like he put it every night.

‘There are three purses