I always slept with a gun close at hand, but I didn’t normally sleep in the wrist sheaths with their slender silver-edged blades. They weren’t that comfortable for sleeping in, but if the Harlequin were faster than normal vampires and shapeshifters, then there might not be time to reach under my pillow for a gun. The knife draw from the wrist sheaths was quicker, because any gun under my pillow either had the safety on or stayed in a holster, so either way it was a few seconds slower than just drawing the knives. I put the big knife that usually rode along my spine beside the bed, on top of the backpack, so that I could reach it if I had to, though honestly if the two knives on me and the gun under my pillow didn’t take care of the problem I’d be dead before I got the third blade, or the other guns. With that cheerful thought, I turned off the light on my side of the room.

The room was suddenly very dark, only a thin line of artificial light sliding between the slightly crooked curtains that led to the balcony, which was just a sort of walkway with a railing. The door led directly out into the night. Vampires couldn’t come into the room without permission, but wereanimals could, and bespelled humans could, and . . . I was less than happy with the room, but it was cheap and I’d learned that if you were traveling on the government’s dime they pinched their dimes; pennies didn’t even figure into the equation.

Her voice came out of the less-than-perfect dark. “Is Gerald Mallory right—are women more likely to be seduced by vampires than men?”

“No.”

“Then why are you the only marshal who’s living with them?”

“Have you ever been in love?” I asked.

I couldn’t see her face, but I felt her go still, and then the sheets rustled. “Yes.”

“Did you plan on falling in love with him?”

The sheets moved again, and then she said, “You don’t plan love, it just happens.”