"They're coming, or at least he is," I whispered.

"Who's coming?" Nathaniel said in that growling voice.

"Cookie," I said, because for the life of me I couldn't think of his real name. All I could think of was what I'd nicknamed him in my head because of his Cookie Monster-blue hair.

We heard raised voices before anyone knocked at the door. Men's voices, arguing just outside the door. Lisandro went to the door after Claudia nod­ded. He opened the door to reveal Cookie with his blue spiked hair, and the brunette werelion. Cutting—no, Pierce. His name was Pierce. Cookie was smiling as he came through the door, wearing nothing but jeans, with a gun stuck inside the waistband. As if the reason for the pants wasn't modesty, but a place to put the gun. Pierce glowered as he came through the door. He was completely dressed, though his shirt was buttoned crookedly, and his jacket tucked badly on one side to flash the shoulder holster. The gun looked like a Beretta. Not my choice for concealed carry, but then I have small hands.

I wasn't surprised to see them. I'd called them. I was surprised to see Oc-tavius, Augustine's human servant, at their heels. He was dressed as impec­cably as he'd been earlier except that he had no tie, and his cuffs were loose in the sleeves of his elegant suit jacket. If the cuffs hadn't been loose, he wouldn't even have looked like he'd rushed.

"This is outrageous," he said. "First you insult and humiliate my master, then you try to steal his lions. Did you think that since Augustine is asleep for the day you could simply take them?" He got a good look at me on the bed. He stopped, I think, because some of the people in the room had moved so he could see me on the bed. Me and Nathaniel. I don't know what he thought we'd been doing, but I suddenly saw it through an outsider's eyes. Me, nude on the bed covered in clear, sticky liquid. Nathaniel nude and ex­cited in leopardman form cuddled in my arms. Other men in the room al­ready nude. What would I have thought if I'd walked in on all this? Probably the same thing Octavius was thinking.

The look on Cookie's face showed that he was thinking the same thing, but he was happy about it. He started toward the bed, but Pierce grabbed his

arm, held him. Cookie growled at him, and that one trickle of sound made the lion inside me tense.

"Don't let her mind-fuck you," Pierce said.

"You heard her call, too," Cookie said. "You couldn't say no, either."

"But I don't want to go to her. I don't want her to use me." He turned the other man so he was facing away from the bed. Cookie had a tattoo of Cookie Monster, as in Sesame Street, on his right shoulder. A happy little Cookie Monster eating cookies. So the hair color wasn't an accident.

"I want her to use me."

"Fight it," Pierce said.

"I don't want to fight it," Cookie said.

"If our master were awake, you would not dare do this," Octavius said. He walked around them both, walked closer to the bed. Claudia and Lisandro stepped between him and the bed. But it was when he saw Jean-Claude step­ping out from the wall that his face fell apart. Fear, fear and confusion, chased over his face. He was totally shocked to see Jean-Claude there. He fought, and finally mastered his face. But the first look was enough, the first look and his remark that Augustine was asleep. For the first time I figured it out. It wasn't that we'd slept the day away and Claudia and the rest were back on duty. It was that we'd barely been asleep at all, and Jean-Claude had not died at dawn. He, like Damian, did not die at dawn if he slept touching me.

Octavius gave arrogance, but shelved the anger, as if he didn't want to start the fight. He bowed. "Jean-Claude, I did not think you would be up. I did not see you standing there. I do have better manners than this; my anger made me forget myself. Please, forgive me." His words were clear, but he said them a little too fast. I think it was his version of babbling nervously.

"There is nothing to forgive, Octavius—if you do not hinder us, that is."

Octavius faced him, and nothing could keep the discomfort out of the set of his shoulders. "Hinder you in what way?"

Jean-Claude stood before the man, still nude, but as comfortable as any of the shapeshifters. He wore his body as if it were the most costly robe in the world, or as if he were not aware he was naked. "Augustine said that these two werelions are supposed to be pomme de sang candidates for ma petite."

Octavius gave a small nod. "That is true."

"We may have been too hasty with our rejection of them earlier. I believe that there were errors of etiquette on both sides, would you not say that was true?"

"Perhaps, perhaps we were all a little hasty earlier," Octavius admitted, his voice showing that he wasn't sure where this was going, and was trying to be

cautious without being insulting. I think if Jean-Claude hadn't been stand­ing there, and his own master dead to the world, he'd have been less cautious and more angry. Hell, if it had just been me and the shapeshifters, I think he'd just have told us to go fuck ourselves, or some polite version of that.

"Ma petite would taste one of your lions now. I think in light of all that has happened it might be well to cement a stronger tie with your master. We are, after all, two of the most powerful masters in this country, and between us we are certainly the most powerful territories in the middle of this country." I followed the phrasing. It implied, but did not say, that between the two of them they could rule the middle of this country, and wouldn't it be better to be allies than enemies? Or maybe I was actually picking up a little of Jean-Claude's thoughts, just a touch. He had no intention of doing some sort of war of conquest, but to imply it gave us both the leverage of fear and greed. Fear of being our enemy, and greed to take part in the spoils if we did de­cide to conquer. Jean-Claude played him.

Octavius licked his lips, then stood a little straighter as if he'd realized he was slumping. "Perhaps. I know that Augustine's intent was to offer the lions as pommes de sang. Or as barter for one of your females."

"I do not barter my people. I believe ma petite made that clear to your master."

Octavius nodded. "Yes, very clear." Anger threaded through his voice, and he fought it off, so that his next words were empty and unoffensive. "I think it would please my master if you found his pomme de sang candidates worthy of attention."

Jean-Claude looked at me then. His face was empty, lovely, but it was his voice in my head, soft, the merest brush of contact, that told me what he wanted. "Call them."

I held my hand out to them, and said, "Come to me."

Cookie turned immediately, only Pierce's hand on his arm stopping him. "Don't make me fight you, Pierce."

"If he is not strong enough to resist," Octavius said, "release him to his fate."

Cookie looked at Octavius. "You don't understand; I don't want to resist her. I want her to take me."

Pierce tried to turn Cookie back to him. "Don't you see, that's wrong. She's already rolled you, man. She's already done you, and you don't even know it."

"Maybe, but if that's what's happening, I'm okay with it." The edge of smile I had seen vanished, and his voice was low and serious when he said, "Take your hands off me, Pierce. I won't ask again."

"Let him go," Octavius said. "That is an order, Pierce."

Pierce gave him an angry look, but he let the other man go. He even

raised his hands in the air, as if it wasn't his fault.

There was a small part of me that wanted to see if I could force Pierce to

come too, but Cookie was coming. One lion was enough, for now.

'i