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

asked.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHow easy is it to draw?”
    â€œEasy enough that I’ve had this sheath design redone for me three times, so I could keep carrying it this way.”
    â€œWhy do you need to have it redone?” Rocco asked.
    â€œEmergency room trips. They always cut everything off if you aren’t able-bodied enough to stop them.”
    â€œThat where you got the arm scars?” Hooper asked.
    I looked down at my arms, as if I’d just noticed the old injuries. I touched the mound of scar tissue at my left elbow. “Vampire.” I touched the thin scars that started just below it. “Shapeshifted witch.” The cross-shaped burn scar was criss-crossed by the scars, so the cross was a little crooked on one side. “Human servants of a vampire. They branded me. Thought it was funny.” I turned to my right arm. “Knife fight with a master vampire’s human servant.” I undid my belt so that I could slip the shoulder rig off, then I held the rig with the gun and knife still on it and used my other hand to lower my shirt from one shoulder. “Same vampire that did my elbow bit through my collarbone, broke it.” I pushed the shoulder of my shirt up to show the small shiny scar on it. “Bad guy’s girlfriend shot me.” Then I smiled, because what else could I do. “We’ll have to be better friends for you to see the other scars.”
    Grimes and Hooper looked a little uncomfortable, but Rocco didn’t. We’d passed the point where a little hint could embarrass us. We’d already seen too far inside each other’s private lives for that to faze either of us. It was a strange, instant kind of intimacy, what we’d done. I didn’t like it much. I couldn’t tell how Rocco felt about it. He hadn’t liked me peeking at him and his wife, that was all I knew for sure.
    I started to put on the vest.
    â€œAre you about to suit up?” Grimes asked.
    I looked at him over the collar of the vest; I hadn’t fastened the Velcro yet. “I was, why?”
    â€œUnless the vampire you’re hunting is inside with Sheriff Shaw, you’ll just have to take it off to talk to him.”
    â€œThey won’t let me wear full gear in the police station?” I made it a question.
    â€œCarrying all that, they’ll stop you at the front. You’ll never get into an interrogation room dressed for battle,” Rocco said.
    I sighed and slipped the vest back over my head. “Fine, I hate the vest and helmet, anyway. I’ll carry them in a bag.”
    â€œThe vest and helmet will save your life,” Grimes said.
    â€œIf I weren’t hunting things that could peel the vest like an onion and crush the helmet, with my head in it, like an eggshell, maybe. I love having a badge and being part of the Marshals Service, but whoever is making the rules keeps making us rig up like we’re hunting human beings. Trust me, what we’ll hunt here in Vegas isn’t human.”
    â€œWhat would you wear if you had your choice?” Grimes asked.
    â€œMaybe something that was better at stopping slashing. Nothing works good enough against a stabbing attack yet. But honestly, I’d carry the weapons and leave the protective gear at home if I were going in with just me. I move faster without the vest, and speed will usually save my life more than the vest.”
    â€œDo you have trouble moving in full gear?” Grimes asked.
    â€œThe damn thing weighs around fifty pounds.”
    â€œWhich is what, half your body weight?” he asked.
    I nodded. “About that, I weigh one-ten.”
    â€œThat would be like putting a hundred-pound vest on most of us. We wouldn’t be able to move, either.”
    Hooper was the one to ask it. “How badly do you move in the vest?”
    â€œI can’t tell what’s going on with you guys. I keep expecting you to rush me to the hospital to see your