Blue Moon (38 page)

“How not picky?” I asked.

“He's based out of Miami. The cops there would like to tie him to a least half a dozen homicides but don't have enough proof. Every town he visits on business, people disappear or turn up dead. Chicago P.D. nearly got him on the death of a wiccan high priestess last year, but the witness went into a mysterious coma and hasn't come out yet.”

“Mysterious coma?” I made it a question.

“The doctors think it was magic of some kind, but you know how hard that is to prove.”

“What do you have on his associates?”

“One hasn't been with him long, a psychic named Howard Grant, young, no criminal record. There's a black bodyguard, Milo Hart. He's got a second-degree black belt in karate and has been in the pen once for attempted murder. He's been beating people up for Niley since he got out of prison five years ago. The third is Linus Beck. He's been in twice. Once for assault with a deadly, second time for murder.”

“Lovely,” I said.

“It gets better,” Dolph said.

“Better?” I asked. “How much better can it get?”

“Beck's murder conviction was a human sacrifice.”

I let that sink in for a second or two. “How was the victim killed?”

“Knife wound,” Dolph said.

I told him about the body I'd just finished seeing.

“Direct attack by demons went out with the middle ages, Anita.”

“They wanted to make it look like a troll attack.”

“You've talked to them,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“They wanted to threaten me,” I said.

I heard papers rustling on the other end. “Why did they want to threaten you?”

I told Dolph almost everything. I also told him I couldn't prove a damn thing.

“I talked to a cop in Miami. He said that Niley admitted two murders to him, told him details, but not under Miranda and not useable in court. He likes to taunt.”

“He thinks he's untouchable,” I said.

“But the spirits say you're going to kill him.”

“So his pet psychic says.”

“When I put out the name and asked for info, police all over the country and out of it are willing to give me anything they got, if we can just nail this guy,” Dolph said.

“A bad guy's, bad guy,” I said.

“He's not above doing his own killing, Anita. At least two of the dead men down in Miami, they think were Frank's personal kills. You watch your ass like a son of a bitch. If you have anything that even looks like proof of a crime, call me.”

“You don't have any jurisdiction here,” I said.

“Trust me on this, Anita. You come up with some proof, and I can get you somebody down there with jurisdiction, ready and willing to put this guy away.”

“He on the blue hit parade?”

“He's made a career out of breaking the law and has never seen the inside of a jail cell for more than twenty-four hours. A lot of people in a lot of states would like to see him gone.”

“I'll see what I can do,” I said.

“I don't mean dead, Anita. I mean arrested.”

“I knew what you meant, Dolph.”

He was quiet for a second. “I know you knew what I meant, but I thought I should say it, anyway. Don't kill anyone.”

“Would I do something so illegal?”

“Don't start, Anita.”

“Sorry. Thanks for all the info. It's more than I'd hoped for. After meeting him, I'm not exactly surprised by any of it. He is a very creepy guy.”

“Creepy—Anita, he's a hell of a lot more than creepy.”

“You sound worried, Dolph.”

“You're down there without a safety net, Anita. The cops are not your friends.”

“That's an understatement,” I said. “But the state cops are down here on the murder now.”

“I can't come down there,” Dolph said.

“I would never ask you to.”

He was quiet so long that I said, “Dolph, you still there?”

“I'm here.” He didn't sound happy. “You know how I told you not to kill anyone?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“I'll deny this in court, but don't hesitate, Anita. If it comes down to him or you, make the right choice.”

My mouth was hanging open. “Dolph, are you telling me to murder him if I get the chance?”

Dolph was quiet again. Finally, he said, “No, not murder, but I am saying don't let him get the drop on you. You do not want to be at this man's mercy, Anita. Some of the bodies they've found have been tortured. He's real creative about it.”

“What's in that file that you haven't told me about, Dolph?”

“They found one man's head floating in his pool. There were no marks of a weapon, like the head had been pulled off. They never found the body. It all reads like that, Anita. Not just violent but weird shit.”

“You going to post bail if I nail him and get caught?”

“You get caught, we never had this conversation.”

“Mum's the word,” I said.

“Watch your back, Anita. Niley doesn't have any limits. That's what all this paperwork means. He's a total fucking sociopath, Anita, and Beck and Hart are the same thing.”

“I'll be careful, Dolph. I promise.”

“Don't be careful, be ruthless. I don't want to be identifying what's left of your body after he gets through with it.”

“You trying to scare me, Dolph?”

“Yeah,” he said, then he hung up.

I hung the phone up and sat on the bed in the hot, hot room,
and I was afraid. I was suddenly more afraid than I had been since we got here. Dolph didn't spook easily. I'd never heard him like that, not about anything or anybody.

Nathaniel touched my leg. “What's wrong?”

I shook my head. I couldn't shake the bad feeling. Dolph, Mr. Law and Order, had encouraged me to kill someone. Unprecedented. The police were telling me to break the law. Too weird. But underneath the wonderment of it was the fear, a fine, trembling sense of unease. Demons. I didn't like demons. They didn't give a shit about silver bullets or much of anything else. Richard felt strong in his faith. I envied him that.
I
was having a crisis of faith right now. I mean, I was sleeping with the undead and had cheated on one lover with another. I also had a few more kills to my credit than the last time I'd been touched by the demonic. I wasn't feeling particuliarly pure and holy right now. You needed that against demons. You needed surety.

Nathaniel laid his head on my thigh. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

I stared down at the naked man with his head in my lap. No, if I ran up against a demon now, my house was made of glass, and nothing throws stones like the demonic. They know just where to hit so that the whole damn thing comes crashing down around your ears. I was really not in the mood to find out how far from grace I'd actually fallen.

C
HERRY CAME INTO
the room. She'd slipped into a pair of jean shorts, and a white midriff tank top. Her small breasts were pressed against the thin material. I was a little too well-endowed to ever dream of going without a bra, but small or not, in that top she needed a bra. I was a prude.

Her short yellow hair was still damp. She stalked into the room on those long legs, managing to look both slutty casual and unnaturally graceful.

Just watching her walk into the room made me want to move Nathaniel's head out of my lap. Force of will alone kept me from scooting away from him. We weren't doing anything wrong. But it bothered me.

“Your turn,” Cherry said. “I'll wait with Nathaniel.”

“Is Zane out yet?”

I caught movement in the hall, and it was Zane. He was wearing jean shorts, too, and nothing else. The ever-present nipple ring was the only thing on his pale, thin chest.

“Don't you ever take that thing out of your chest?” I asked.

He smiled. “If I take the ring out, the hole will close up and I'll have to get it pierced all over again. I might get the other nipple pierced, but I don't want to have to redo the first one.”

“I thought you liked pain,” I said.

He shrugged. “In some situations with naked women, yeah.” He touched the ring, pulling on it until the nipple stretched just a little. “The actual piercing hurt like a son of a bitch.”

I looked at the slender, too-thin chest, especially the part right next to his right arm. There was a dark area where the shoulder attached to the chest, but that was all.

“Is that all that's left of the bullet wound?” I asked.

Zane nodded and sat down at the foot of the bed, crawling
onto the covers so he was beside Nathaniel and far too close to me. “You can touch the wound if you want.”

I frowned. “No, thanks.” I started to back off the bed on all fours, spilling Nathaniel's head gently to the covers. I stopped myself. Marianne said that Raina fed on my embarrassment, my prudishness, that if I could be more comfortable around small stuff, Raina would lose some of her power over me. Was it true?

I wasn't attracted to Zane. That moment last night had been pure Raina. She seemed to have been attracted to anything that had a pulse and some things that didn't. I gritted my teeth and reached out towards Zane.

He went very still, face suddenly serious, as if he had some clue how much it cost me to reach out to him. I ran my fingertips over the wound. The skin was smooth, shiny like a scar but softer and more pliable. I found myself running my hand over the wound, exploring it. It felt strangely plastic, and at the same time soft, like baby's skin.

“This feels . . . cool.”

Zane grinned. It reminded me of Jason and that one thought relaxed a tension in my shoulders that I hadn't even known was there.

Cherry came up behind him to slide her hands over his shoulders, massaging them. “I never get over being amazed at how we heal.”

I wanted to take my hand back, just because Cherry had touched him, too. I forced myself to keep my hand on the wound, but I'd stopped exploring it, just touching it was all I could manage.

“The muscles can get tight when it's healing,” Cherry said. “You get spasms around it, like the body heals too fast for the muscles to keep up.”

I took my hand away slowly. I sat on the bed watching Cherry massage Zane's shoulders. Nathaniel nuzzled my leg, rolling his eyes up to me. I didn't move away from him, and he seemed to take that as permission to roll his head onto my thigh. He nestled against me with a contented sigh.

Zane rolled onto his back on the other side of me, not touching me, but watching me. His eyes were very careful.

Cherry stayed kneeling on the foot of the bed, watching my face. They all watched me like I was the center of their world.
I'd seen dogs in obedience trials watch their owners that way. In dogs it was a good thing. In people it was unnerving. I didn't have a dog because I didn't feel responsible enough to take care of one. Now I suddenly had three wereleopards, and I knew I wasn't responsible enough for them.

I laid my hand on Nathaniel's warm hair. Zane stretched his full six-foot frame, fingers and toes straining, spine bowing like a big cat.

I laughed. “What am I supposed to do, rub your tummy?”

Everyone laughed, even Nathaniel. I realized with a shock that it was the first time I'd ever heard him laugh. The laughter was young, high-schoolish. Lying naked in my lap with claw marks on his butt, and he was laughing, a full-throated, happy sound.

I was happy to hear it, and nervous. They were trying to make me their home. Because that was what an Ulfric was supposed to be, and a Nimir-ra, or Nimir-raj, for a guy, was the equivalent. Strangely, there didn't seem to be a werewolf equivalent of a queen wolf. Sexism? Or some arcane shit I didn't understand yet? I'd ask Richard later.

“I've got to go take my bath, guys.”

“We could help,” Zane said. He licked my arm, grimaced. “I like the taste of sweat, but the gravel dust . . .”

Nathaniel raised his face enough to lick my other arm. His tongue ran down my arm in a long slow glide. “I don't mind the dust,” he said, voice low and soft.

I slid off the bed, calmly, slowly. I did not go yuck, or scream. I was very calm and very relieved to be standing on the floor. The bed had suddenly become crowded. “Thanks, but the bath will be fine. Don't answer any phone but the one by the bed, and don't open the door to anyone but Dr. Patrick.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Zane said.

I slid the Firestar down the front of my jeans and picked up my suitcase from against the wall. I glanced back at the three of them from the doorway. Zane had lain down on the other side of Nathaniel, only propped on his elbow, one hand touching Nathaniel's back. Cherry had curled at the foot of the bed. She was running her hand up and down his thigh. Either the sheet had slid off or she'd moved it so she could touch him. There was nothing sexual on their faces, nothing overt.

They looked like the opening scene for a porno movie to me,
but I was sure that when I left the room, nothing would happen. There was no anticipation between them, no eagerness to have me gone so they could be alone. Their eyes still followed me. They touched each other for comfort, not for sex. The discomfort was mine, not theirs.

“I'm sorry I went with Mira,” Nathaniel said suddenly.

That stopped me in the doorway. “You're a big boy, Nathaniel. You had every right to find someone. It was just your choice of partners that was bad.”

Zane began to rub his hand up and down Nathaniel's back, like you'd pet a dog. Nathaniel lowered his head so his hair slid around him like a veil, hiding his face. “I thought you were going to be my mistress, my top. I thought for a long time that you understood the game. That you were telling me not to have sex with anyone. I was so good. I didn't even touch myself.”

I opened my mouth, closed it, opened it, and didn't have a damn thing to say.

“When you finally gave me permission to have sex with you, it could have been straight vanilla. It was the waiting, the buildup, the teasing that would have made it enough.”

I found my voice. “I don't know what vanilla means, Nathaniel.”

“Staight sex,” Zane said, “normal stuff.”

I shook my head. “Whatever, I am not playing with you, Nathaniel. I would never do that.”

He looked at me sort of sideways as if afraid to look me full in the face. “I know that now. It was this trip that I realized you didn't even know we were playing a game. You aren't teasing me. You don't think about me at all.”

That last sounded sort of pitiful, but I couldn't help that. “I keep having to apologize to you, Nathaniel. Half the time I don't even know what I'm apologizing for.”

“I don't understand how you can be my Nimir-ra and not be my top, but I know now that you see it as two separate things. Gabriel didn't.”

“What is a top?” I asked.

Zane answered for him again. “A dominant to Nathaniel's submissive. A submissive is called a bottom.”

Ah. “I am not Gabriel,” I said.

Nathaniel laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. “Would you get mad if I said sometimes I wish you were?”

I just blinked at him. “I'm not mad, Nathaniel, you just puzzle the hell out of me. I know I'm supposed to be taking care of you, but I don't know how to do it.” He was like some exotic pet that I'd been given as a gift, but the instructions didn't come in the box.

He lay back down on the pillow, head turned so he could see me. “I went with Mira when I realized you weren't there for me.”

“I am there for you, Nathaniel, but not in that way.”

“Is this where you tell me we can still be friends?” He laughed, and it was harsh.

“You don't need a friend, Nathaniel, you need a keeper.”

“I thought you were going to be my keeper.”

I looked at Cherry and Zane. “How about you guys?”

“Nathaniel is the most . . .” Cherry hesitated, “the most broken of us. Gabriel and Raina made sure we were all bottoms; it was all we were trained for. They were the tops, always, but . . . but Nathaniel . . .” She finally shrugged.

I knew what she meant. Nathaniel was the weakest of them. The one who needed the most care.

I set the suitcase down and went to kneel by the bed. I brushed his hair from his face so I could see his eyes. “We'll all be there for you, Nathaniel. We are your pard. Your people. We'll take care of you.
I'll
take care of you.”

Tears filled his eyes. “But you won't fuck me.”

I took a deep breath and stood. “No, Nathaniel, I won't fuck you.” I shook my head and picked up my suitcase. I'd had all I could take for one afternoon. If Marianne wasn't happy with this little lesson, then screw her. Maybe it wasn't supposed to be sexual, but thanks to the way Gabriel and Raina had treated the wereleopards, sex did keep coming up. I was almost afraid to hear what Marianne's solution to that one would be.