I closed the door and leaned against it. "Can I help?"
He shook his head.
I smoothed his hair back on one side. He jerked away from me as if I'd burned him. He ended up huddled in the corner, trapped between the wall and the bathtub. The look on his face was wild, panicked.
I knelt in front of him.
"Don't touch me, please!"
"Okay, I won't touch you. Now what's wrong?"
He wouldn't look at me. His eyes wandered the room, not settling on anything, but definitely avoiding me.
"Talk to me, Richard."
"I can't believe Marcus knows. He can't know. He wouldn't allow it."
"Could Raina do it without his knowing?"
He nodded. "She's a real bitch."
"I noticed."
"I have to tell Marcus. He won't believe it. He might need to see the film." His words were almost normal, but his voice was still breathy, thin, panicked. If he kept this up, he was going to hyperventilate.
"Take a slow, deep breath, Richard. It's all right."
He shook his head. "But it isn't. I thought you'd seen us at our worst." He gave a loud, spitting laugh. "Oh, God, now you really have."
I reached for him, to comfort, to do something. "Don't touch me!" He screamed it at me. I backed up and ended sitting with my back pressed against the far wall. It was as far away as I could get without leaving the room.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"I want you, right now, here, after seeing that."
"It excited you?" I made it a question.
"God help me," he said.
"Is that what sex means to you, not the killing but before?"
"It can, but it isn't safe. In animal form we're contagious. You know that."
"But it's a temptation," I said.
"Yes." He crawled towards me, and I felt myself recoil. He sat back on his knees and just looked at me. "I am not just a man, Anita. I am what I am. I don't ask you to literally embrace the other half, but you have to look at it. You have to know what it is or it's not going to work between us." He studied my face. "Or have you changed your mind?"
I didn't know what to say. His eyes didn't look wild anymore. They had gone dark and deep. There was a heat to his gaze, to his face, that had nothing to do with horror. He rose on all fours, the movement was enough to bring him close to me. I stared at his face from inches away. He gave a long, shuddering sigh, and energy prickled along my skin. I was left gasping. His otherness beat against my skin like a crashing wave. The wash of it pressed me against the wall like an invisible hand.
He leaned into me, lips almost touching, then moved past. His breath was hot against the side of my face. "Think how it could be. Making love like this, feeling the power crawl over your skin while I was inside you."
I wanted to touch him, and I was afraid to touch him. He drew back enough to look me in the face, close enough to kiss. "It would be so good." His lips brushed mine. He whispered the next words into my mouth like a secret. "And all this lust comes from me seeing blood and death and imagining her fear."
He was standing, as if someone had pulled him upright with strings. It was magically quick. It made Alfred last night look slow. "This is what I am, Anita. I can pretend to be human. I'm better at it than Marcus, but it's just a game."
"No." But my voice was just a whisper.
He swallowed hard enough for me to hear it. "I've got to go." He offered me his hand. I realized he couldn't open the door with me sitting there, not without banging me with it.
I knew if I refused his hand that that would be it. He would never ask again, and I would never say yes. I took his hand. He let out a long breath. His skin was hot to the touch, almost burning hot. His skin sent little shock waves through my arm. Touching him with all his power loose in the room was too amazing for words.
He raised my hand to his mouth. He didn't so much kiss my hand as nuzzle it, rub it along his cheek, trace his tongue over my wrist. He dropped it so abruptly, I stumbled back. "I have to get out of here, now." There was sweat on his face again.
He stepped out into the room. The lights were on this time. Edward was sitting in the chair, hands loose in his lap. No weapon in sight. I stood in the bathroom door, feeling Richard's power swirl out and fill the outer room like water too long imprisoned. Edward showed great restraint, not going for a gun.
Richard stalked to the door and you could almost feel the waves of his passing in the air. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. "I'll tell Marcus if I can get him alone. If Raina interferes, we'll have to think of something else." He gave one last glance at me, then he was gone. I almost expected him to run down the hallway, but he didn't. Self-restraint at its best.
Edward and I stood in the doorway and watched him vanish around the corner. He turned to me. "You're dating that."
Minutes ago I would have been insulted, but my skin was vibrating with the backwash of Richard's power. I couldn't pretend anymore. He'd asked me to marry him, and I'd said yes. But I hadn't understood, not really. He wasn't human. He really, truly wasn't.
The question was, how big a difference did that make? Answer: I hadn't the foggiest.
I slept Sunday morning and missed church. I hadn't gotten home until nearly seven o'clock in the morning. There was no way to make a ten o'clock service. Surely God understood the need for sleep, even if he didn't have to do it himself.
Late afternoon found me at Washington University. I was in the office of Dr. Louis Fane, Louie to his friends. The early-winter evening was filling the sky with soft purple clouds. Strips of sky like a lighted backdrop for the clouds showed through his single office window. He rated a window. Most doctorates didn't. Doctorates are cheap on a college campus.
Louie sat with his back to the window. He had turned on the desk lamp. It made a pool of golden warmth against the coming night. We sat in that last pool of light, and it seemed more private than it should have. A last stand against the dark. God, I was melancholy today.
Louie's office was suitably cluttered. One wall was ceiling-to-floor bookshelves, filled with biology textbooks, nature essays, and a complete set of James Herriot books. The skeleton of a Little Brown Bat was laid behind glass and hung on his wall by his diploma. There was a bat identification poster on his door like the ones you buy for bird feeders. You know, "Common Birds of Eastern Missouri." Louie's doctoral thesis had been on the adaptation of the Little Brown Bat to human habitation.
His shelves were lined with souvenirs; seashells, a piece of petrified wood, pinecones, bark with dried lichen on it. All the bits and pieces that biology majors are always picking up.
Louie was about five foot six, with eyes as black as my own. His hair was straight and fine, growing a little below his shoulders. It wasn't a fashion statement as it was with Richard. It sort of looked as though Louie had just not gotten around to cutting his hair in a while. He had a square face, a slender build, and looked sort of inoffensive. But muscles worked in his forearms as he tented his fingers and looked at me. Even if he hadn't been a wererat, I might not have offered to arm-wrestle him.
He had come in specially to talk to me on a Sunday. It was my day off, too.
It was the first Sunday that Richard and I hadn't at least talked to each other in months. Richard had called and canceled, saying it was pack business. I hadn't been able to ask questions because you can't argue with your answering machine. I didn't call him back. I wasn't ready to talk to him, not after last night.
I felt like a fool this morning. I'd said yes to a proposal from someone I didn't know. I knew what Richard had shown me, his outward face, but inside was a whole new world that I had just begun to visit.
"What did you and the rest of the professors think of the footprints the police sent over?"
"We think it's a wolf."
"A wolf? Why?"
"It's certainly a big canine. It isn't a dog, and other than wolves that's about it."
"Even allowing for the fact that the canine foot is mixed with human?"
"Even allowing."
"Could it be Peggy Smitz?"
"Peggy could control herself really well. Why would she kill someone?"
"I don't know. Why wouldn't she kill someone?"
He leaned back in his chair. It squeaked under his weight. "Fair question. Peggy was as much a pacifist as the pack would let her be."
"She didn't fight?"
"Not unless forced into it."
"Was she high in the pack structure?"
"Shouldn't you be asking Richard these questions? He is next in line to the throne, so to speak."
I just looked at him. I wouldn't look away as if I were guilty of something.
"I smell trouble in paradise," he said.
I ignored the hint. Business, we had business to discuss. "Peggy's husband came to see me. He wanted me to look for her. He didn't know about the other missing lycanthropes. Why wouldn't Peggy have told him?"
"A lot of us survive in relationships by pretending as hard as we can that we aren't what we are. I bet Peggy didn't talk pack business with her husband."
"How hard is it to pretend?"
"The better you control, the easier it is to pretend."
"So it can be done."
"Would you want to go through your life pretending you didn't raise zombies? Never talking about it? Never sharing it? Having your husband embarrassed by it, or sickened by it?"
I felt my face burn. I wanted to deny it. I wasn't embarrassed by Richard, or sickened, but I wasn't comfortable, either. Not comfortable enough to protest. "It doesn't sound like a very good way to live," I said.
"It isn't."
There was a very heavy silence in the room. If he thought I was going to spill the beans, he was wrong. When all else goes to hell, concentrate on business. "The police were all over the area where the body was found today. Sergeant Storr said they didn't find anything but a few more footprints, a little blood." Truth was, they had found some fresh rifle slugs in the trees near the kill area, but I wasn't sure I was free to share that with the lycanthrope community. It was police business. I was lying to both sides. It didn't seem like a good way to run a murder investigation, or a missing-person case.
"If the police and the pack would share information, we might be able to solve this case."
He shrugged. "It's not my call, Anita. I'm just an Indian, not a chief."
"Richard's a chief," I said.
"Not as long as Marcus and Raina are alive."
"I didn't think Richard had to fight her for pack dominance. I thought it was Marcus's fight."
Louie laughed. "If you think Raina would let Marcus lose without helping him, you haven't met the woman."
"I have met her. I just thought her helping Marcus was against pack law."
He shrugged again. "I don't know about pack law, but I know Raina. If Richard would play footsie with her, she might even help him defeat Marcus, but he's made it very clear that he doesn't like her."
"Richard said she had this idea about lycanthrope porno movies?"
Louie's eyes widened. "Richard told you about that?"
I nodded.
"I'm surprised. He was embarrassed about the whole idea. Raina was hot and heavy to have him be her costar. I think she was trying to seduce him, but she misjudged her boy. Richard is too private to ever have sex for a camera."
"Raina's starred in some of the movies?"
"So I'm told."
"Have any of the wererats appeared in the flicks?"
He shook his head. "Rafael forbid it. We're one of the few groups that refused it flat."
"Rafael's a good man."
"And a good rat," Louie said.
I smiled. "Yeah."
"What's up with you and Richard?"
"What do you mean?"
"He left a message on my answering machine. Said he had big news concerning you. When I saw him in person, he said it was nothing. What happened?"
I didn't know what to say. Not a new event lately. "I think it has to be Richard's news."
"He said something about it being your choice and he couldn't talk about it. You say it's his business and you can't talk about it. I wish one of you would talk to me."
I opened my mouth, closed it, and sighed. I had questions that I needed answers to, but Louie was Richard's friend before he was mine. Loyalty and all that. But who the hell else could I ask? Irving? He was in enough trouble with Richard.
"I've heard Richard and Rafael talk about controlling their beasts. Does that mean the change?"
He nodded. "Yes." He looked at me, eyes narrowing. "If you've heard Richard talk about his beast, you must have seen him close to changing. What happened last night?"
"If Richard didn't tell you, Louie, I don't think I can."
"The grapevine says you killed Alfred. Is that true?"
"Yes."
He looked at me as if waiting for more, then shrugged. "Raina won't like that."
"Marcus didn't seem too pleased, either."
"But he won't jump you in a dark alley. She will."
"Why didn't Richard tell me that?"
"Richard is one of the best friends I have. He's loyal, honest, caring, sort of the world's furriest boy scout. If he has a flaw, it's that he expects other people to be loyal, honest, and caring."
"Surely after what he's seen from Marcus and Raina, he doesn't still think they're nice people?"
"He knows they aren't nice, but he has trouble seeing them as evil. When all is said and done, Anita, Marcus is his alpha male. Richard respects authority. He's been trying to work out some sort of compromise with Marcus for months. He doesn't want to kill him. Marcus doesn't have the same qualms about Richard."
"Irving told me Richard defeated Marcus, could have killed him, and didn't. Is that true?"
" 'Fraid so."
"Shit."
"Yeah, I told Richard he should have done it, but he's never killed anyone. He believes all life is precious."
"All life is precious," I said.
"Some life is just more precious than others," Louie said.
I nodded. "Yeah."
"Did Richard change for you last night?"
"God, you are relentless."
"You said it was one of my better qualities."
"It is normally." It was like being picked at by Ronnie. She never gave up, either.
"Did he change for you?"
"Sort of," I said.
"And you couldn't handle it." It was a flat statement.
"I'm not sure, Louie. I'm just not sure."
"Better to find out now," he said.
"I guess so."
"Do you love him?"
"None of your damn business."
"I love Richard like a brother. If you're going to slice his heart up and serve it on a platter, I'd like to know now. If you leave, I'll be the one helping him pick up the pieces."
"I don't want to hurt Richard," I said.
"I believe you." He just looked at me. There was a great peacefulness to his expression, as if he could wait all night for me to answer the question. Louie had more patience than I would ever have.
"Yes, I love him. Happy?"
"Do you love him enough to embrace his furry side?" His eyes were staring at me as if they'd burn a hole through my heart.
"I don't know. If he were human ... Shit."
"If he were human, you'd marry him maybe?" He was kind enough to make it a question.
"Maybe," I said. But it wasn't a maybe. If Richard had been human, I'd be a very happily engaged woman right now. Of course, there was another male that wasn't human that had been trying to get me to date him for a while. Jean-Claude had said that Richard wasn't any more human than he was. I hadn't believed him. I was beginning to. It looked like I owed Jean-Claude an apology. Not that I would ever admit it to him.
"A writer came to my office yesterday, Elvira Drew. She's doing a book on shapeshifters. It sounds legit and could be good press." I explained the format of the book.
"Sounds good, actually," he said. "Where do I come in?"
"Guess."
"She's missing a wererat interview."
"Bingo."
"I can't afford to be exposed, Anita. You know that."
"It doesn't have to be you. Is there anyone among you that would be willing to meet with her?"
"I'll ask around," he said.
"Thanks, Louie." I stood.
He stood and offered me his hand. His grip was firm but not too strong, just right. I wondered how fast he really was, and how easy it would be for him to crush my hand into pulp. It must have shown on my face, because he said, "You might want to stop dating Richard. Until you get this sorted out."
I nodded. "Yeah, maybe."
We stood there in silence for a moment. There didn't seem to be anything left to say, so I left. I was all out of clever repartee, or even a good joke. It was barely dark, and I was tired. Tired enough to go home and crawl into bed and hide. Instead, I was on my way to the Lunatic Cafe. I was going to try and convince Marcus to let me talk to the police. Eight missing, one dead human. It didn't have to be connected. But if it was a werewolf, then Marcus would know who did the killing, or Raina would know. Would they tell me? Maybe, maybe not, but I had to ask. They'd come closer to telling me the truth than they would to the police. Funny how all the monsters talked to me and not to the police. You had to begin to wonder why the monsters were so damn comfortable around me.
I raised zombies and slew vampires. Who was I to throw stones?