Cerulean Sins - By Laurell K. Hamilton Page 0,2

little silly, and yet . . . looking into his dead eyes that humor never completely filled, it didn't seem all that silly.

"There are people all over the world who would love to see me dead, Ms. Blake. There are people who have spent considerable money and effort to see that such a thing would happen, but no one has come close, until today."

I shook my head. "This wasn't close."

"Normally, I'd agree with you, but I knew something of your reputation, so I didn't wear a gun in my usual manner. You noticed the weight of it when I bent forward that last time, didn't you?"

I nodded.

"If we'd had to draw down on each other, your holster is a few seconds faster than this inner jacket shit that I'm wearing."

"Then why wear it?" I asked.

"I didn't want to make you nervous by coming in here armed, but I don't go anywhere unarmed, so I thought I'd be slick, and you wouldn't notice."

"I almost didn't."

"Thanks for that, but we both know better."

I wasn't sure about that, but I let it go; no need to argue when I seemed to be winning.

"What do you really want, Mr. Harlan, if that is your real name?"

He smiled at that. "As I've said, I really do want my ancestor raised from the dead. I didn't lie about that." He seemed to think for a second. "Strange, but I haven't lied about anything." He looked puzzled. "It's been a long time since that was true."

"My condolences," I said.

He frowned at me. "What?"

"It must be difficult never being able to tell the truth. I know I'd find it exhausting."

He smiled, and again it was that slight flexing of lips that seemed to be his genuine smile. "I haven't thought about it in a long time." He shrugged. "I guess you get used to it."

It was my turn to shrug. "Maybe. What ancestor do you want raised, and why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to raise this particular ancestor?"

"Does it matter?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I don't believe the dead should be disturbed without a good reason."

That small smile flexed again. "You've got animators in this town that raise zombies every night for entertainment."

I nodded. "Then by all means go to one of them. They'll do anything you want, pretty much, if the price is right."

"Can they raise a corpse that's almost two hundred years old?"

I shook my head. "Out of their league."

"I heard an animator could raise almost anything, if they were willing to do a human sacrifice." His voice was quiet.

I shook my head, again. "Don't believe everything you hear, Mr. Harlan. Someanimators could raise a few hundred years worth of corpse with the help of a human sacrifice. Of course, that would be murder and thus illegal."

"Rumor has it that you've done it."

"Rumor can say anything it damn well pleases, I don't do human sacrifice."

"So you can't raise my ancestor." He made it a flat statement.

"I didn't say that."

His eyes widened, the closest to surprise that he'd shown. "You can raise a nearly two-hundred-year-old corpse without a human sacrifice?" I nodded. "Rumor said that, too, but I didn't believe it."

"So you believed that I did human sacrifice, but not that I could raise a few hundred years worth of dead people on my own."

He shrugged. "I'm used to people killing other people, I've never seen anyone raised from the dead."

"Lucky you."

He smiled, and his eyes thawed just a little. "So you'll raise my ancestor?"

"If you tell me a good enough reason for doing it."

"You don't get distracted much, do you, Ms. Blake."

"Tenacious, that's me," I said, and smiled. Maybe I'd spent too much time around really bad people, but now that I knew that Leo Harlan wasn't here to kill me, or anyone else in town, I had no problem with him. Why did I believe him? For the same reason I hadn't believed him the first time. Instinct.

"I've followed the records of my family in this country back as far as I can, but my original ancestor is on no official documents. I believe he gave a false name from the beginning. Until I get his true name, I can't track my family through Europe. I very much wish to do that."

"Raise him, ask his real name, his real reason for coming to this country, and put him back?" I made it a question.

Harlan nodded. "Exactly."

"It sounds reasonable enough."

"So you'll do it," he said.

"Yes, but it ain't cheap. I'm probably the only animator in this country that