Damian was looking down at me, and the look was not one that I'd ever seen on a man's face just after finishing sex. He looked sad, and I remembered the burst of emotion at the end. Sorrow covering the pleasure like evil chocolate ruining your ice cream.

But it was more than the look on his face. I realized that I could feel his sadness. Feel it, not like it was my own, but like it was a coat that clung to my skin. I was still hooked up to him emotionally, well, not just emotionally. I could feel him plunged deep inside me, his weight still pinning my lower body. Touching made any sort of metaphysical intermingling worse. I needed to stop touching him. And not just him.

Nathaniel lay beside us, his fingers still tangled in mine. The side of his body pressed up against me, so that our bodies touched from shoulder to hip. He must have scooted closer when Damian finished. I think I would have remembered if Nathaniel's body had been touching mine during the act. Wouldn't I?

His lavender eyes were unfocused, almost sleepy. What came through his skin was contentment. Contentment like a great warm ocean that filled him, floated him, held him, rocked him. Maybe I stared at him too long, or maybe he sensed my own growing unease, because his eyes focused, sharpened, and the look in them wasn't the least bit sleepy. It was almost an anticipatory look, as if he were already thinking about next time. Since I didn't think he'd had a first time yet, it helped clear my head. Anger always did.

"Everybody off, out of the pool," I said.

Damian's sorrow was almost like rain on my skin. Nathaniel wasn't sad. He went straight to panic, afraid he'd done something wrong. "It's alright, Nathaniel, you're alright. We're all alright." I wasn't sure I actually believed that down to my toes, but the panic subsided, and everybody got off of me. Yeah. Though Damian's sadness clung to me like I'd walked through some metaphysical cobweb.

While we were getting untangled, Micah came through the splintered door. I'd been found in compromising positions by boyfriends before, but never with less embarrassment. He didn't ask stupid questions or make me feel like a slut. In fact he concentrated on the most important thing. "Wow," he said, and the wow seemed to take in the blood scattered here and there on the floor and the walls, the injuries that he could see on most of us, the broken door, all of it, but what he said out loud was, "Is everybody alright?"

I started to get up off the floor, and Damian offered me a hand up. I wouldn't have taken it normally, but we'd just had sex, and it seemed odd to slap away his hand. The moment my hand touched his, I realized it was more than that. That need to put my skin against his was still there. One moment of good sex didn't take away centuries of need. Sex was like some kind of fuel like food—you burned it up and needed more.

I got my hand out of his and took a slightly shaky step away from Nathaniel and Damian. A little distance would be helpful, I hoped. "We'll all live," I said.

"Good." He cocked his head to one side and said, "I didn't know that Damian could walk around this early in the day."

"He can't," I said.

"Do I say the obvious, 'but he is walking around during the day,' or do you want me to just stop asking questions?"

I was suddenly tired, and I probably wasn't the only one. "Have you been to bed at all?"

He shook his head, and as if I'd reminded him, he rubbed his chartreuse eyes, his sunglasses already tucked into the front of his shirt. "When I drove the guy home from the bar, he had a live-in girlfriend and a child. Girlfriend started a fight about his drinking. Anger does not help you fight the change."

"Did he shift?" I asked.

"No, but it was close, and he's so new..." Micah shook his head again. "I'd feel better if the girlfriend was a little more understanding about how dangerous he could be. She just didn't seem to understand."

"She didn't want to understand," Richard said.

Micah turned and looked at him. I realized that of all the people in the room, Richard had been the only one that Micah hadn't really looked at. "Then you've met Patrick's girlfriend."

Richard started to shake his head, stopped in mid-motion, and winced. "No, but I've seen it. The human spouse just doesn't want to understand that they're married to a monster." I think he meant it to sound matter-of-fact, but it didn't. It sounded bitter.

I'd never made Richard feel like that, that I knew of; no, he'd spent a great deal more time making me feel like a monster. So I let it go. I let it go because I didn't know what to say, or if there was anything to say. Okay, I had one thing to say. "The coalition is offering a monthly meeting for family members. I thought we'd given flyers out to the werewolves."

Richard got to his feet, cradling his arm. "This is my Patrick, Patrick Cook?"

Micah said, "Yes."

"And you've been baby-sitting him all night?"

"Yes," Micah said, again.

Richard looked down at the floor, then back up. He met Micah's gaze, but his face wasn't completely happy about it. "Thank you for looking after my wolf."

"The wolves are part of the coalition, too," Micah said, "I'd do the same for anyone's people."

"All the same, thank you."

"Don't mention it."

There was one of those awkward silences. I hated to leave everybody alone, but I really needed a shower. The shower would hurt the wound on my throat, but I'd just had sex without a condom, which meant all the mess had gone into me, but it wouldn't stay there. So I needed to clean up. Truthfully, I'd have preferred a condom, but it hadn't occurred to me until afterward. Tammy had gotten pregnant on the pill. Yeah, she had fallen afoul of the fact that antibiotics don't mix well with the pill, but still. That one percent chance suddenly seemed like it wasn't good odds. Damian was a thousand-year-old vampire; chances were he was infertile, but still... It was one thing getting pregnant by a boyfriend, but pregnant by someone who wasn't even that... well, that seemed somehow worse. "I'm taking a shower."

They all looked at me. I guess it was abrupt. "I'm sorry, but I just can't stand here like this anymore. So everybody behave themselves. I'll be as quick as I can."

"I'll call for a doctor," Micah said.

I nodded. "Good, good." I suddenly had to not be there, naked, smelling of fresh sex, with Richard and Micah in the same room. Having Damian and Nathaniel naked didn't help my comfort level. I was fairly comfortable around nudity in general now, but specific nudity, that was still a problem. For more reasons than I was comfortable with, I needed to leave the room.

"By the way, there's a woman crying in your car in the driveway," Micah said.

"My car?" I asked.

"No, Richard's, or at least I assume it's Richard's. I know Gregory's car, and that's not the one she's in."

Richard cursed under his breath, something he rarely did. "Clair, I forgot about Clair."

"Who's Clair?" I asked.

He hesitated, then said, "My girlfriend," then he was walking to the door holding his arm like it hurt to walk that fast.

His girlfriend, and I'm buck naked the first time she sees me. Great. Well, at least she hadn't seen me fuck Damian. That helped. Sure, great. Just great. I was shaking my head as I went toward the bathroom.

It was Gregory, in his growling voice, who said, "I guess it's none of my business, but should Richard really be in front of the house where cars could see him? He is covered in blood."

I turned and looked at the leopardman and said, "Shit, no." I started for the door, and Micah stopped me. "I'll go. I'm the only one that they wouldn't call the cops on right now." He squeezed my shoulder and smiled at me.