Free [Anita Blake 17] - Skin Trade by Laurell K. Hamilton

danger, Marshal Blake.”
    â€œIf I do pass?” I asked.
    â€œThen we’ll help you serve your warrant,” Grimes said.
    â€œIf you don’t pass, there are other vampire hunters in town,” Cannibal said, “ones that aren’t psychic enough to be a problem.”
    â€œThey also won’t be psychic enough to be a help, either,” I said.
    â€œWe can help ourselves,” Cannibal said.
    â€œCan any of you sense the living dead?” I asked.
    â€œNone of us has a talent with vampires in particular, no.”
    I stared into Cannibal’s dark eyes as I said, “The dead come in lots of flavors, not just vampires, Cannibal.” I took that small step closer to him, not quite invading his personal space. I spoke low. “Just as vampires come in different flavors, too.”
    Cannibal smiled, and again I got that flash of anticipation from him. “Let’s do this, then.”
    â€œLet’s.”
    Louder, for the room—his lieutenant and his men—he said, “Are you ready, Anita?”
    â€œHow ready do you want me to be?”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œDo you want me to try to keep you out, or do you want me to cooperate with your little mind-reading act?”
    â€œI’d love to try to breach your shields sometime, but we don’t have time, and the last psychic who played that game with me had to be taken out in an ambulance.”
    â€œAre you that good, or that bad?” I asked.
    One of the men made a noise, like ooh . We ignored him. “I’m good,” Cannibal said, “unless you fight me; then it’s bad for you.”
    â€œIf we had time I’d make you prove that, but we don’t, so I’ll drop my shields enough to let you in, but I won’t drop them completely. Please, don’t try to force them all the way down.”
    â€œWhy not?” he asked.
    â€œBecause not only can I sense the dead, but sometimes they can sense me. If you breach all my shields, I’ll shine like a beacon, and all the vampires in the area will know something supernatural is in town. I’d rather not advertise quite that loudly yet.”
    â€œI don’t think you’re lying about that, which means you’re not exaggerating.”
    â€œI try not to exaggerate, Sergeant; the truth is strange enough without that.”
    â€œI’ll be careful of your shields, Anita.”
    â€œOkay, how do we do this?”
    â€œSitting down,” he said.
    â€œIn case one of us falls down,” I said.
    â€œSomething like that.”
    â€œYou really do believe you’re the strongest psychic in this room, don’t you?” I asked.
    â€œYes.”
    I shrugged. “Fine, let’s get chairs.”
    The men handed us up a chair apiece. We sat down facing each other. I lowered my shields a little, like partially opening a door. Not only could I feel Cannibal’s energy humming along my skin now, but there were buzzes and flashes and heat from some of the other men. I fought not to concentrate on them, just to ignore it the way I did ghosts. Ignore it and it will go away.
    â€œIt works better if I can touch you,” he said.
    I gave him a look.
    He smiled. “So young to be so cynical.”
    I held out my hands, still frowning. “Fine.”
    He took my hands in his, and only then did he lower his own shields, only then did he reach out to me with that humming energy of his. Only then did I realize that touch makes all vampire powers worse, more, even if the vampire in question wears a uniform and has a heartbeat.

7
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    HIS POWER FLOWED through the hole in my shields like something warm and alive. Shapeshifter energy was warm, but it held an edge of electricity, like your skin couldn’t decide if it felt good or hurt. Shapeshifters rode that edge of pain and pleasure, but this power was just warm, almost comforting. What the hell?
    His hands felt warmer in mine