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Author: Casey

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in Anita Blake, though I wouldn't mind owning everyone's favorite sociopath…(who wouldn't?)
Summary: Edward is close to death, and Anita knows it is up to her to save him.

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     I pushed the door to the hospital open, a half second before Bernardo caught up with me.  Evidently the Native American had been waiting for me in the parking lot.  My cab sped off, probably in part due to the rather skimpy tip, but I didn't care.  If needed, I could always call another taxi.

     "Where is he?" I demanded, not bothering with pleasantries.  I knew I hadn't been called back to Santa Fe to chat with Edward's bounty hunter buddies.

     "Upstairs.  I'm sorry I couldn't pick you up from the airport.  Here, follow me."
He led me to the Intensive Care section of the hospital, and paused outside of a door.  I pushed through it.

     I could barely recognize the man in the hospital bed.  Edward always had strength, always was in control, but the man in the bed was unconscious, probably from whatever they had put in his IV.  I immediately recognized it as drugs.  His skin was a sickly pale, and his eyes seemed sunken, darker in comparison to the rest of his skin.  I didn't want him to open his eyes yet-I didn't want to have to see his unmistakable blue eyes in the sick body.

     It wasn't until I saw motion that I realized Edward had a guest.  Careless me.  His fiancée sat next to the bed on an uncomfortable hospital chair.  She looked tired, but her glare showed plenty of vigor-and hostility.  Bernardo told her gently that he'd sit watch so she could get me up to date.  I realized that Bernardo wanted to give her a break from staying with Edward.  Funny, I hadn't really thought of Bernardo as being the type to care.

     We hadn't even close d the door before Donna turned to me with unfriendly brown eyes.

     "What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice a harsh whisper.

     "Bernardo called me.  What happened?"  I was willing to ignore her rude behavior for now, but my patience was not endless.

     "It was all from your little crusade last month.  How is it that the one time you accompany him, he is injured?  He's never been even scratched before, and now he's dying!"  She had tears of anger threatening to spill onto her cheeks, and her fists were clenched at her sides.

     Last month?"  Itzpapalotl's face loomed in my memory like an unbidden spirit.  Jean-Claude had warned me of the Master Vampire, but I'd rushed back to the city when I heard Edward was hurt. 

     "Yes," she snapped.  "I'm sure you remember-when you arrived to ruin my life?"

     "You act like I know what the hell you're talking about."  As her voice grew in pitch and emotion, mine was still quiet, but much cooler.  I knew my eyes were hard.

     "I want you to leave," she said, barely managing to control her anger.  "You have no right to be here."  She turned and walked back into Edward's hospital room.  Bernardo came out less than a minute later.

     Before he could say anything, I held my hand up.  "I want to know what the hell is going on," I said, no room for debate.

     "I didn't think she was going to do that, honest-"

     "Edward.  Tell me about Edward."

     "There was something on the stake that was shoved through his chest.  The doctors didn't think all that much of it at first, but then that first relapse."

     "I thought they said he'd be okay," I said.  I wouldn't have left if they'd been anything but certain.

     "He was.  Then a couple of days ago Donna called me.  Ted collapsed at her house and the ambulance brought him back to the hospital.  It doesn't look good, Anita."  He was looking at the tiled floor.  "There was something on that stake, a strong poison or something.  They don't know.  It's gone completely through his system."  Finally Bernardo brought his eyes up to meet mine.  I know my own eyes were wide.  "They gave him a week, at the most.

     "Oh," I said softly.  I couldn't think of anything intelligent to say.  After what seemed forever, I asked, "Why bring me here?"

     "The drugs kept him unconscious for a while, but…he kept calling for you."  Bernardo chuckled, but it lacked happiness.  "It pissed Donna off, in case you couldn't tell."

     I absorbed the information, and finally asked him what kind of poison it was.

     "The docs aren't sure.  It's some strange mixture.  They've brought in that witch, just to see if she could help."

     Leonora Evans, I guessed.  Then another thought came to my mind.  "I want to see him, Bernardo."

     He glanced back at the door, as if Donna could see us.  "I don't think it is a smart idea with her still in there."

     "Can't you get her out?"

     "In maybe half an hour.  She's spent almost all her time here, and she's gonna be suspicious if I try to kick her out as soon as you come to town.  She won't leave if she thinks you'll come in while she's gone."

     "Okay.  I'll come back in an hour, okay?  Have her gone by then."


     I spent the hour at a small family-owned diner within walking-distance of the hospital.  The food wasn't spectacular, but at least it wasn't Mexican food.  And to tell the truth, it could've been four-star cuisine and I wouldn't have noticed.  My mind was on Edward.

     It was hard to try and find a solution when all I could think of was the weakened Edward, calling my name.  I didn't want to think about what Bernardo told me, that Edward would be dead in less than a week.  How could Edward, Death himself, be killed like this?  Why not in a blaze of gunshots, a grenade, something, besides poison?

     I couldn't help but feel responsible for the mess.  Yes, Edward had called in the favor, but I wondered whether Riker would have kidnapped Becca and Peter if he hadn't been sure I could protect him.  If Edward hadn't gone to save the kids, he wouldn't have gotten a stake through the chest, and wouldn't be dying from an obscure poison as I sat and tried to get through a hamburger and plate of overcooked French fries.

     Finally, I felt the sun set, and I paid for my dinner and walked back to the hospital.  Bernardo sat in the chair Donna had vacated.  He stood up when I came in.

     "It wasn't a pretty scene," he said, "but she finally left."

     "Can you give us some time alone?"

     "Yeah, I'll go get a coke or something," he said lamely, and walked towards the door.  I touched his arm.

     "Thank you."

     He nodded and left.  I took the empty chair and touched Edward's hand.  He didn't even stir.  The drugs kept him unconscious, but kept the pain away.

     "Edward," I whispered softly.  "I know you're asleep, but they always say that unconscious people can hear you." Although I began awkwardly, I gained strength and the words slipped from my mouth.  "I'm sorry I didn't come earlier, but Bernardo just called me this morning.  I got here as soon as I could.  Donna didn't tell me.  But don't blame her," I added quickly.  "She didn't like the fact that you were calling for me.  Bernardo told me.  Why, Edward?  Why me?

     "I know you won't answer.  I also know you hate the mystical shit, but it's to save your life, Edward, and frankly, I wouldn't be able to live knowing that I didn't do what I could to save you."

     I held onto his hand with both of mine, and I gently stroked the energy inside of me, the part that belonged to Raina.  In the restaurant, we'd come to an agreement.  She let me use her strengths to try and heal Edward, and I'd reward her later.  I knew I wouldn't like payback time, but she had sensed my devotion to Edward, and was willing to help, in return for later compensation.

     I wasn't sure if I could do it.  Raina said I could heal shapeshifters, yes, but Edward was human.

     I couldn't fail him.

     Raina's spirit rushed through me, and I tried not to shudder.  I had practiced controlling the werewolf bitch, but it never left like it was enough practice when I felt her fill in my body.

     "Remember the agreement," I warned her when she studied Edward's face.  She found him on the plain side.  I had no idea what she was talking about.  He was handsome.

     "Oh really?" she asked through my mouth.  "He's not as handsome as the Ulfric, or as beautiful as your Jean-Claude."  The two men in my life.  Trust her to pick a sore subject.

     "Yes, he is," I retorted.

     "Oh, right.  You're this man's soul mate, no?  It would be so easy…"

     "No.  We heal Edward."

     "He's human," she said, disdainfully.

     "You're the healer, Raina.  I'm the link from you to Edward."

     I stood up, leaned over Edward's bed.  I touched his face gently, something I'd never done.  If you looked at him like this, asleep, so defenseless, you'd never had believed that he was an assassin.

     Raina perked up at that.  "Assassin?  I like this man already."

     "He's mine, Raina," I warned her.

     "Of course," was her sugar-sweet reply.

     Through me, she touched Edward's face, trailing down his neck with her/my fingertips.  I bent down towards his face, my lips centimeters away, but I stopped it at that.

     "Later, Raina," I told her mentally.  She laughed.

     "That wasn't me, Anita."  She drew my name out, pronouncing each syllable distinctly.  "That was you."

     I hadn't moved away from his lips, but as my fingers trailed to the swollen wound where the stake had been removed.  I used what control I had left to not kiss him.

     Raina massaged the wound, measuring it, and I think a little for the pain, and Edward groaned.  His eyes fluttered, as if he hadn't the strength the keep them open.

     "Shh," I told him, almost touching him.  Raina had sized up the wound, and she was ready to try.

     Energy pushed through my body into Edward.  His back arched off the bed, his mouth opened in a soundless scream before his mouth touched mine.  The energy pulsed through us in waves until, after what seemed an endless span of time, she backed off.  I would have collapsed on the floor had the strong pair of arms not helped me into the chair.  I looked up at Bernardo, and couldn't read the expressions running past his face.

     He checked Edward before turning to me.  Edward was panting, same as me, and his skin was flushed, beads of sweat covering his forehead and the expanse of chest that Raina had revealed.  I could hear the steady ping of the heart monitor.

     "Come on, we've got to get you out of here."  He helped me to my feet, somehow aware that I wasn't steady enough.  I wasn't aware of much else, and not sure when I blacked out.



     Sun.  Sunlight warming the house.  Dark curtains prevented it from assaulting my body, but I found myself waking anyways.  I groaned and opened my eyes to the sweet sight of a mug of
coffee.  And its bearer.

     Edward smiled at me.  He wore blue jeans and a black tee shirt, no socks or shoes.  I didn't even see a weapon, though that didn't necessarily mean he wasn't armed.

     I was able to sit up, and Edward handed me the steaming mug.  "You're all right," I managed to say.

     "Yeah.  What did you do?"

     "It wasn't really me.  You know about Raina, right?  How she decided to inhabit my body?  She's also a healer."

     "A lycanthrope healer.  But I'm human."  He sat on the edge of the bed.

     "How are you?" I asked.

     He shrugged and pulled the black shirt over his head.

     "Holy shit," was all I could think of to say.  What had once been bleeding and black and purple mottled skin was now unmarked flesh.  I couldn't even tell he'd been injured.

     "Now you answer something for me.  How did Raina bridge you to me?"

     The answer seemed so simple.  I was lost in his eyes.  "Because you're my soul mate," I said, before he kissed me.

Relapse
Author: Casey

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Chapter Two

As soon as his lips touched mine the dream shattered.  I sat up in bed and tried to catch my breath.

It was just a dream.  Edward hadn’t relapsed, I hadn’t rushed to New Mexico, I hadn’t healed him, and I did not kiss him.  I just had a very strange dream, one that would never happen in real life.

I glanced around the room I was in, and grew cold when I realized it was not mine.  In fact, I didn’t even recognize the room I was in.  The curtains were thick, and kept the room dark with the exception of one streak of dying sunlight on the floor.  The longer I looked around, the better my eyes adjusted to the low light.  There was a rug on the floor, and I saw that the room I was in was one in Edward’s house.  The door was open a crack and I could smell coffee.  My heart began to speed again.

I had to get out of here.  I didn’t know exactly why I was panicking, but the feeling remained the same.  I had to leave.

I got out of the bed and tripped over something, landing hard on the floor.  I reached out blindly and shoved the bag away.  After a moment, I saw that it was my duffel bag.  I had forgotten about my carry-on bag.  When Bernardo called me this morning—was it this morning?  How long had I been out? —I had thrown some clothes into a duffel bag and headed for the airport.  Oh, God, it wasn’t all a dream.

I pulled a rumpled green tee shirt and blue jeans out of the bag.  I had just changed into the clean shirt when the door opened and I froze.

The light came on, and I blinked a couple of times before I could see.

“You’re awake,” Bernardo said, in surprise.  He held a coffee mug in his left hand.  He looked at the discarded shirt on the bed and then turned his attention back to me.   “You’ll probably want to take a shower.  There’s a bathroom across the hall, in case you forgot.”  The tone he used made it obvious that he knew I had not forgotten.

“Is Edward okay?” I asked.

“Yeah.  They still have him in the hospital for observation, but he’s fine.”

Bernardo studied my face.  “Now that you’re awake, maybe you can tell me what happened.”

My panic faded when it dawned on me that Edward was not at the house.  He was miles away.  I sat on the edge of the bed.  “I healed him.”

“No shit, Sherlock.  Even I could figure that out.  What I mean is, how did you heal him?   I thought you were an animator, a zombie-queen.  I didn’t know that healer came with that territory.”

“It’s a fairly recent development.”

“You could make a lot of money off it.”

“It doesn’t work with humans,” I explained.  “It doesn’t always work, anyways.”

“Edward’s human,” Bernardo pointed out.  “The docs have run God-only-knows-how-many tests on him, and he’s pure human.  So how did it work with him?”

“What’s with all the questions, Bernardo?” I asked.  It didn’t take much to make my voice tired.  “Edward’s all right; that’s all that matters.  Now, how long was I out?”
“About two days.  You slept all yesterday.  If you hadn’t woken up by tomorrow morning, I was going to take you to the hospital.  How are you feeling?”

“Tired.  Very tired.”  That prompted a question in my mind.  I had healed lycanthropes before, but I didn’t black out afterwards, like with Edward.  Maybe it was because he was human.  Maybe it was because he had just been that close to the Great Beyond.  I suppressed a shudder.   “I think I’ll go take a shower.”

I grabbed my duffel bag and pushed past a confused Bernardo.

The shower made me feel much better, although I had felt paranoid because I didn’t have my Firestar with me.  It had become habit to leave my back-up gun on the toilet cover when I was in the shower.
I used an extra towel to wipe off the mirror so I could see my reflection.  I looked like I always did: small, delicate, pale.  I didn’t know what I was expecting—maybe some external sign of the internal battle?

I had figured out what had caused me to panic earlier, but I still wanted to deny it.  My dream had pointed it out rather obnoxiously.  I wanted him to kiss me.  I wouldn’t have stopped him; I would have welcomed it.  I wouldn’t have stopped him.

I wouldn’t have stopped him.

Why did my life have to be so difficult?

I already had two guys back home.  I did not need to add another to the list.  I couldn’t believe it.  I couldn’t be in love with Edward.  I couldn’t be.

How can you love Death?


I wanted to stay in the bathroom forever, anything to avoid another living human being—or not-so-living being.  Hell, I wanted to avoid everyone.  But even though I wanted to sink into the Earth, I knew I couldn’t avoid Bernardo.  He had done nothing wrong; in fact, he had saved Edward’s life.  Donna never would have called me, and I never would have known.  I wouldn’t have come to Santa Fe to heal him.  So here I sat at the kitchen table. 

Bernardo had poured me a cup of coffee in a plain black mug.  Really, Edward needed to get some personalized coffee mugs.  Maybe I’d buy him one.  No, I wouldn’t.  Oh, God, how was I going to handle this?

“I don’t think the coffee’s going to change, Anita.”

I glanced up, startled.  “Excuse me?”

“You were staring so intently into your coffee, I maybe thought you were expecting it to change color or something.”  He smiled.  What was wrong with him?  He was never this nice.  The short time that I’d been around him, he’d shown himself to be an asshole.  So what was with this new attitude?

“No, not change color.”  Just transport me to another state.

“What’s bothering you?” he finally asked.

I pushed away from the table.  “Sorry, Bernardo, but I just don’t feel like talking.”

“Just tell me.  You’ll feel better if you just say whatever is wrong.”

“No thanks.”  I stood up and put my mug into the sink.  For probably the first time in my life, I didn’t want any coffee.  Maybe something was wrong with me, I thought to myself.  If I could make weak jokes, then maybe I wasn’t in as deep trouble as I thought.

“Edward should be back in two days,” Bernardo commented.

I froze.  “Oh?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.  “So the hospital isn’t planning to run tests on him for the rest of his life.”

“Nope.  I talked to him about a half-hour ago.  They’re allowing him visitors.”  The entire time he spoke he watched my face.  “I can drive you over there, if you want.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve really got to be going.  Bert’s going to be pissed enough as it is.  I didn’t bother calling to cancel the raisings, and I have a rather heavy workload.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to talk to him before you leave.”

Oh, yes it would.  I didn’t think I’d be able to look at Edward without imagining—feeling—his lips on mine again.  I knew he didn’t feel the same way for me.  I didn’t want to have to see that in his eyes.

Why hadn’t I felt this way with Jean-Claude or Richard?  I don’t remember this pain, this fear of rejection.  Maybe it was because both men had already fallen in love with me before I allowed myself to love them.  Turnabout is fair play.  Turnabout is a bitch.

But there was a major difference between my boys and Edward.  Jean-Claude and Richard could love or come damn close to it (the vampire.)  Although I’d seen the way Edward looked at Donna and the kids, I knew that it was not really, completely Edward.  I’d see Edward change from being a cold-blooded killer to acting like Good Ol’ Boy Forrester.  I’d seen how well he acted.  And I simply didn’t know if Edward could really love.

My eyes met Bernardo’s again, and without another word, I stood up and walked away.


That evening I stayed in my room.  I had a lot to think about and didn’t want Bernardo to try prying into my thoughts again.  After my talk with the bounty hunter, I got on the phone and reserved a seat on the first open flight to St. Louis.  It wasn’t until five-thirty the next evening, which was cutting it a little close in my opinion, but as long as I was gone from Santa Fe before he came home, it would be fine.

I had tried sleeping, but my body had apparently gotten enough rest and wouldn’t obey me.  After two hours of tossing and turning, I left my room to wander around the house.  I ended up in a bedroom that Edward had converted into an office.  I was careful not to touch anything.

The desk was almost completely bare, except for a laptop and phone.  There were a couple of random items—a framed picture of Donna, Peter, and Becca, taken before the Riker episode, a box of silver bullets, a vial of Holy water.  I wasn’t quite sure what I expected—a calendar stating “Kill so-and-so today?”

He had a bookshelf running along one wall, and I glanced curiously through the books.  Some looked like school textbooks, like the ones I had worked from when getting my preternatural biology degree.  Somehow I figured Edward wasn’t learning about these creatures for the same reason I had.  I used to have dreams of becoming a preternatural Jane Goodall.  I doubted his dream was anything was anything like that.  Just thinking about that made me want to laugh.

“And here we have the Greater Mountain Troll.  I’ve killed several of these in my former career, and as long as you carry a shotgun or mini-Uzi with you, they are no trouble.”

There was a dartboard on the back of the door.  No darts, though, although it was obvious that the board had been used a lot.  Looking closer, I realized that the center of the board was falling apart.  Definitely used a lot.  Maybe I’d buy him a new dartboard.

Wait.  Did I really want to give Death a new dartboard when he’d admitted many times that he fantasizes hunting me?

Maybe not.

The longer I was in Edward’s office, the bolder I felt.  I cautiously opened one of the drawers in his desk.  After all, I knew he had done the same to my own desk at home.  Bullets, a Beretta, some of his homemade ammo, a Glock…ah, the darts.  Gun-cleaning kit, a knife (silver, I guessed).  I found a couple of unlabeled CDs, and in the back of the top drawer I found a velvet jewelry box.  I was tempted to open it (hey, if I was being a snoop, might as well go all the way, right?) but I heard a creak from the hallway boards and quickly shoved the box back into the drawer and quietly shut drawer.  I nonchalantly sat back in Edward’s chair.  Sure enough, the office door opened.

“There you are.  I wondered whether you’d skipped town already,” Bernardo said.  He was wearing only jeans, no shirt, no shoes, and I was painfully reminded of my dream with Edward.

“Not yet,” I said, ever eloquent.

“Why are you awake?”

“Because I’m not asleep,” I answered.  “Like you said earlier, I slept a while.  I’m not tired anymore.”

“Were you looking through Edward’s desk?”

“No,” I said quickly.  I doubted he believed me.

“Find anything interesting?”

“I didn’t look in there.”

“Are you going to see Edward before you leave?”

“I wouldn’t want to bother him.”

Bernardo raised an eyebrow.  “You saved his life.  I don’t think you could bother him right now.  Unless, of course, you bring up your, uh, boyfriends.  Edward’s touchy about that.”

Touchy? Edward?  Not exactly the word I would use to describe anything Edward, at all.  “He doesn’t approve of my choice of men.”   Most certainly he wouldn’t approve of my latest interest.  For all I knew, my choice of partners lit me as a monster in his eyes.  And you never slept with the monsters.

“Maybe you just need a new guy.”

I deliberately misinterpreted his statement.  “Two is one too many; three is unthinkable.”

“I meant, dump the lord of the undead and wolfman.”

I stood up.  “I’m not interested in discussing this with you.”

“I’m going to go see Edward tomorrow morning.  You interested in coming?  Donna’s probably overwhelming poor Ted.”

“I’ll think about it.”  When Hell freezes over.  I walked past him and headed for my room.

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Chapter Three

It wasn’t even nine o’clock the next morning, and I was already damning Bernardo to Hell.  Not a good way to start the day.
Bernardo hadn’t bothered me the next morning about going to see Edward and I foolishly thought that he’d leave me alone.  Instead little Becca and Peter ended up at the house.  Someone needed to watch over them, and Donna didn’t want them spending a lot of their time at a place with so much “negative energy” as the hospital.  I wondered whether Donna knew what had happened, how Edward had healed.  I wondered whether Donna knew that I was the one who was watching over her kids.
Becca was glad to see me, and she clung to me with the hand not in the cast.  I still felt extremely sad when I looked at her injured hand.  I was glad Russell was dead.  I was glad I’d seen him die.
Peter was quiet at first, but during my second attempt at cooking pancakes—I burned the first batch—he laughed a little and took the spatula from me.
So I wasn’t much of a cook.  So sue me.
When Becca began rambling on about something that happened the day before, I watched Peter out of the corner of my eye.  He looked much the same as he did when I first met him, unless you could see his eyes.  His eyes told everything, but I had met only a few people who could read eyes.  Usually people just look at your facial expression: smile, happy.  Frown, sad.  Sneer, angry.  I had learned to read eyes out of necessity because of the company I hung out with.  Although Peter acted depressed most people wouldn’t guess what had happened to him.
He glanced away from his sister and turned his gaze to me, as if he’d felt me studying him.  I gave him a brief, sad smile, and then looked back to Becca.
“Can we go see Ted?” Peter asked, leaning towards me.
“Well, uh, if your mother doesn’t want you to, I shouldn’t go against her rules.”
“That’s because she thought he was dying.  She didn’t want us to see that,” Peter said.  “He’s okay now.”
“Still, your mother hasn’t changed her mind on that yet.  You should ask her when she picks you up.”
“Why are you suddenly obeying my Mom?  You don’t even like her.”  We kept our conversation quiet, and Becca didn’t seem to care.
“Your mother’s a good woman, Peter.  I’m not going to undermine her rules for you two.”
“You don’t want to see Ted.”
“What?”
“You don’t want to see Ted,” he repeated.  “You don’t really care about what my Mom says, you just don’t want to go see Ted.”
“That’s not true.”
He sat back.  “Why don’t you want to see him?  He’s dong a lot better.”
“I know he is, and I do want to see him, but I’m watching you two and your mother doesn’t want you at the hospital.”
He shrugged, and I knew he didn’t believe me.  Damn it, was I really that transparent?
Then a thought occurred to me.  Bernardo had been asking me all last night about what I was thinking, and it seemed to me like he already knew what I was thinking.  Like he had some idea why I was trying to run away from New Mexico before Edward got out of the hospital.
But that was impossible.  He couldn’t know—I wasn’t even sure of it until just yesterday!  And I doubt Bernardo was that perceptive.  It was probably just my mind playing tricks on me.  I was worried that someone would find out, so every gesture, every phrase, was being overanalyzed by my mind until it sounded suspicious.
“Aunt Anita, you’re not listening,” Becca complained.
“Yes, I am, sweetie,” I told her.
“What did I say?” she challenged.
Oh great.  Now I was being questioned by a six-year old.
“Aunt Anita was listening to your story about Peeka and Boo, Becca,” Peter said.
“Yes, I was.”  I noticed her glass was empty.  “Do you want some more orange juice?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, please,” she grinned.  I filled her glass up, and after a sip, she continued her story.

By noon, Bernardo picked up the kids.  Edward was going through another series of tests, and so Donna decided to stay home for a while and spend some quality time with her children.  Afterwards, Bernardo searched through the kitchen cabinets.
“Doesn’t Edward have anything good in here?” he complained.  Finally he turned to me. “Want to go out for lunch?”
I stopped, my coffee mug halfway to my lips.  “Why?” I asked, feeling suspicious.  I studied his handsome features, but couldn’t see any sign that he was lying.  Why was everyone else a better liar than me?
“To eat some food.  That’s generally what lunch is for, and a restaurant is a good place to do that.”  A smile grew on his face.  “Don’t worry, I don’t have any ulterior motives, like your undead boy-toy.”
“How do you know that?   I’ve never told you anything about him.”
“He’s a 300-plus years dead vampire.  They always have ulterior motives.”
“And how would you know that?”
“Same way I learned the words ‘ulterior motives.’  I watch TV.”
I laughed.  “What TV shows are about vampires?  Surely you aren’t talking about that Vampire Slayer show.”
“I plead the fifth,” he said.  “You want to come or not?”
“Sure.  I can’t believe you watch that crap.”  I put down the coffee mug and followed him outside, after double-checking to be sure I had the essentials: my wallet with IDs, and my Browning.
“There’s a nice Italian restaurant in the city.  Edward said you didn’t like Mexican food and he recommended this place.”  Bernardo climbed into the front seat and started up the rental car.  I immediately strapped myself into the passenger seat.
“Edward told you that?  Why is it I am wondering whether the Edward you’re talking about isn’t the same one I’m thinking about?”  After I said that, I went back and thought about what I had said.  “Same one I’m thinking about?”  That sounded like I always thought about him.
No, calm down.  It was an innocent statement.
Sometimes being paranoid is extremely helpful.  Other times it tries to push you into the line of fire.
“He’s been talkative lately.  Well, at least when they had him drugged.”  He looked away from the road to glance at me.  “Very talkative,” he emphasized.
“Oh?” I asked, curious.  “What did he talk about?”
“Just various things.  Random stuff,” Bernardo responded vaguely.  “He asked about you this morning.  I told him you finally woke up.  He was worried about you, Anita.”
“Whatever.”  The only thing Death worried about was…well, I couldn’t think of anything Death would worry about.  Certainly not me.

Going out to lunch and driving back killed a substantial amount of the afternoon, since we had gotten lost trying to find the Italian Kitchen.  After looking for almost an hour, we gave up and parked at a Pizza Hut that happened to be next door to the Italian Kitchen.  Next time, I’ll drive.  I’m better with directions.
The Italian food was actually very good.  And Bernardo wasn’t all that bad to talk to, at least when he wasn’t trying to be an ass.  Which comprised about fifteen percent of the entire time, but at least it was an improvement over my last visit to Santa Fe.
I kept an eye on my watch the entire time, and I made my flight with time to spare.  Although I’m not used to running from things I am afraid of, this time I have no choice.  I will not risk my friendship with him.  I looked out of the window of the plane before we took off, and the fear I felt was not the knowledge that only a sheet of metal would keep me from plummeting to the ground and surely my death.  It wasn’t fear of death, or of losing someone close, like I’d felt multiple times with the boys, but of losing Edward, the one person I never really considered losing until recently.
I wouldn’t let that happen.

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