“I can’t come down, Teddy.”
“Someone must. The lawyer is not here, and you know there is that little law on the books that they can sign an unconscious shapeshifter into a safe house if they deem him a danger. I do not understand why everyone is panicking this badly, but if I leave Gil alone, I think we will be trying to get him out of a place that has no bail.”
“I know, I know.” I was really happy that Richard had allowed the wolves to join the coalition. They were the largest shifter population in town, so the wolves came in handy to help man the phones and the emergencies. The downside was that Richard felt that if the pack were going to help, then the pack could take advantage of the emergency service. It sounded fair, but since there were nearly six hundred werewolves in the area, it had quadrupled our emergencies. The wolves gave us enough person power to meet the demands. It was a blessing and a problem all in one.
“Did the wolf call his brother?”Brother was slang for the older more experienced werewolf that all the new wolves got. They carried their number for emergencies.
“He says he did and got no answer. He sounded very fragile, Anita.
I fear that if he changes in the bar, they’ll call the police…”
“And they’ll shoot him,” I finished it for him.
“Yes.”
I sighed into the phone.
“I take it you can’t make this one, either,” Teddy said.
“I can’t, but Micah can.”
Micah came into the kitchen about that time. He looked a question at me. He’d already changed out of the suit, and knowing him, hung it up. He was wearing a pair of sweat pants and nothing else. Just the sight of him shirtless and padding barefoot across the floor made my heart go pit-a-pat. He’d tied his hair back in a loose ponytail, but I could forgive that, when I could see the fine muscle of his chest and stomach. His arms and shoulders looked like some weight lifting had gone into them, but truthfully, most of it was natural. Not all, but most. He was just shaped nicely.
“Anita, are you still there?” I realized that Teddy had been saying something and I hadn’t heard him.
“Sorry, Teddy, can you repeat that?”
“Do you want me to give you the address of the bar, or wait to talk to Micah?”
“Micah is right here.” I handed him the phone, and he took it with raised eyebrows.
I explained as briefly as I could.
Micah put his hand over the phone. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
I shook my head. “Almost sure it’s not, but I can’t take the run.
Not with theardeur about to surface sometime in the next minute or the next two hours. I’m stuck here until it’s fed.”
“I know, but maybe Nathaniel could go?”
“What? Go down to a bar in maybe a bad section of town and arm wrestle a werewolf so new he can’t drink safely?” I shook my head.
“Nathaniel has many fine skills, but this isn’t one of them.”
“You’re not really good at it either,” he said, with a smile to soften the harsh truth.
I smiled back, because he was sooo right. “No, I could have done the hospital run and kept Gil out of a safe house, but I couldn’t talk down the werewolf. I could shoot him, but not talk him down. Not if I don’t know him.”
Micah got on the phone long enough to take the address and name of the bar down, then hung up. He looked at me, face careful, neutral with an edge of concern. “I’m okay with you and Nathaniel being here alone for theardeur. The question is, are you okay with it?”
I shrugged.
He shook his head. “No, Anita, I need an answer before I leave.”
I sighed. “You need to get there before the wolf loses it. Go, we’ll be alright.”
He looked like he didn’t believe me.
“Go,” I said.
“It’s not just you I’m worried about, Anita.”
“I will do my best for Nathaniel, Micah.”
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means what it says.”
He didn’t look happy with the answer.
“If you wait around for me to say, Oh, yes, it’s fine that I’m going to feed theardeur and fuck Nathaniel, the wolf in question will have shapeshifted, been shot by the cops, and maybe taken some civilians with him before you even leave the house.”
“You’re both important to me, Anita. Our pard is important to me.
What happens here tonight could change… everything.”
I swallowed hard, because I suddenly didn’t want to meet his eyes.
He touched my chin, raised my face up to meet his gaze. “Anita.”
“I’ll be good,” I said.
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll do my best, and that is the best I can offer. I won’t really know what I’m going to do until theardeur rises.
Sorry, but that’s the truth. To say anything else would be a lie.”
He took a deep breath that made his chest rise and fall nicely. “I guess I’ll have to settle for that.”
“What exactly do you want me to say?” I asked.
He leaned in and laid a gentle kiss against my lips. We rarely kissed so chaste, but this close to theardeur, he was being careful.
“I want you to say you’ll take care of this.”
“Define take care of it?”
He sighed again, shook his head, and stepped back. “I’ve got to get dressed.”
“Are you taking your car or the Jeep?”
“I’ll take my car. You might get a call from the police for another body, and your gear is all in the back of the Jeep.” He smiled at me, almost sadly, and left to go get dressed. He made a soft exclamation as he went around the corner. He spoke in low voices with another man. The cadence was wrong for Nathaniel.
Damian glided around the corner. “You must be very distracted not to have sensed me sooner.” He was right, I was good at sensing the undead. No vamp should have been able to get this close without me knowing, especially not Damian.
Damian was my vampire servant, as I was Jean-Claude’s human servant. Theardeur was Jean-Claude and Belle Morte’s fault, something about their line had contaminated me. But Damian as my servant, that was my fault. I was a necromancer, and apparently mixing necromancy with being a human servant had some unforeseen side effects. One of them was standing across the kitchen staring at me with eyes the color of green grass. Humans didn’t have eyes like that, but apparently Damian had, because becoming a vamp doesn’t change your original physical description. It may pale you out, lengthen some of the teeth, but your hair and eye and skin color remain the same. The only thing that was probably more vibrant was his hair. Red hair that hadn’t seen the sun for hundreds of years, so that it was almost the color of fresh blood, a bright, fresh scarlet. All vamps are pale, but Damian started life with that milk and honey complexion that some redheads have, so he was even paler than the norm. Or maybe it was the quality of his paleness, like his skin had been formed of white marble, and some demon or god had breathed life into that paleness. Oh, wait, I was that demon.
Technically, my power, my necromancy made Damian’s heart beat. He was over a thousand years old, and he would never be a master vampire.
If you aren’t a master, then you need a master to give you enough power to rise from the grave, not just the first night, but every night. Sometimes people rise by accident with no master near, and that is how you get revenants. Walking corpses little better than zombies, but they take blood instead of meat, and they don’t rot. Little problems like that is why there are vampire laws about how you attack humans and how you don’t. Break the laws, and the vamps will kill you for it. And that’s in countries where vampires are still illegal. In the United States where they have rights, the vamps are more civilized, if the police find out about the crime. If they can keep it secret they take care of their own. Even if it means killing their own.
Damian must have come straight from work, because though he, like most of the vamps fresh over from Europe, almost never wore jeans and tennis shoes, he also didn’t like dressing up as much as Jean-Claude insisted on.
He was wearing a coat I’d seen before. It was a deep pine green, a frock coat like something out of the 1700s, but it was new, designed to gape open to expose the pale gleam of his chest and stomach.