“I didn’t mean to hurt you, or anyone,” I said.

“I know that,” he said, “and sometimes I did mean to hurt you, Anita. I’m very sorry about that now, but Nathaniel offended that macho part of me. Haven had a lot more macho to live up to, partly because the lions are just that way, and partly because he’d been in the mob since he was a teenager. He just couldn’t share you with someone he saw as weak.” Richard wrapped his arms around my legs, hugging me. “He couldn’t bear seeing that you loved someone who was weaker, less dominant, submissive in every way, but you loved him more.”

I thought about that. “Is that why he was convinced I’d had sex with Travis and Noel? They’re weak, submissive, or Noel was, not sure about Travis. I don’t think he’s sure about himself yet.”

Richard nodded his head against my lap. “I think that was part of it. He looked at the men you loved most and the ones you seemed to fall in love with easiest, and it’s usually less dominant men. Micah is Nimir-Raj, but he doesn’t fight you about ruling the leopards. He doesn’t argue with you the way I do.”

Jean-Claude went very still against me. I looked down at the man in my lap, and finally said, “No, he doesn’t.”

He raised his head up so he could look into my face. “I thought you killed because it didn’t bother you. I didn’t understand until today how much it costs you.” He swallowed, and his eyes were shiny. “I’ve let you do my killing for me for years. I’ve forced you to do terrible things because I’m too squeamish. I comforted myself at one point by saying that it didn’t bother you, it didn’t mean anything to you, to do the wolf pack’s dirty business, but that was just to make me feel better. Everything you’ve done to keep us safe, and make other shapeshifters and vampires think twice before attacking St. Louis, had a price. I told myself that you didn’t pay that price, that you were cold about it. Today I saw your face when you realized Noel was dead. I saw your face after you’d killed Haven. I saw the pain. I saw the price, and I am so sorry that you’ve had to pay that price on your own.”

I looked into those brown eyes and didn’t know whether to pinch myself or him. “What are you saying? That you’ll help me kill people now?”

He shook his head. “I’ll defend the wolves with violence when it’s needed, but I’ll never be a shooter, Anita. I don’t regret that, but I am sorry that you have to pay more of the price for our safety than I do, because I’ll never be . . .” He stopped as if he didn’t know what to say.

“You’ll never be a killer like me?” I said.

He looked up and shook his head. “I did not say that, I wouldn’t have said that. Haven had to die. He was too dangerous, too unpredictable to be allowed to stay as Rex.”

“I didn’t kill him because of that,” I said.

Richard studied my face. “I don’t understand.”

“I killed him because Noel did a brave thing. Noel pushed Nathaniel out of the way of the shot. Noel who was one of the weakest of all of you guys, but he was brave when it counted, and he should have lived through that. He should have lived and gotten to be brave and get his master’s degree and have a life. He was only twenty-four and now he’s dead, and we can’t even tell his parents that he died a hero, because we can’t tell them the truth about what happened. They’ll never know that he died brave, and he died well, and he died saving the man I love, and all I could do was walk across the room and shoot his killer in the face until he died, too.” I was crying and didn’t mean to. “I didn’t kill Haven because it was the best thing for the city, or for the lions, Richard. I killed him because if Noel had to die, it was the least I could do for him. I killed Haven because he tried to kill Nathaniel, and that is not allowed. For that he had to die, because I looked into his eyes and knew that while he was alive, Nathaniel wasn’t safe, and I’d do anything to keep him safe.”

Jean-Claude held me tight, murmuring comforting words in French. Richard buried his face against my legs again and wrapped his arms around them. They held me close, and I let myself cry for Noel, and for Nathaniel, and for the knowledge that I’d killed one of my own lovers, killed him with the taste of his body still on my lips, the feel of him still like a memory inside me, and I’d looked him in the same eyes that had looked up at me in bed while we made love, and blown his face into so much meat and bones.

And in the end, that last was what made the crying build to screams.

26

I FINALLY WENT to relieve Micah at Nathaniel’s bedside. We had a series of rooms that had been made into hospital rooms so that when our people were hurt they didn’t all have to go to the lycanthrope hospital that the wererats had set up years ago for the local shapeshifters. Human hospitals didn’t always like treating lycanthropes. The room was smallish with a twin hospital bed, subdued lighting at the moment, but I knew that the brightest lights in the entire underground were in these rooms. It had been yet another remodeling project when we did everything else. Jean-Claude was really trying to make this our home. I missed windows.

I’d gotten my hysterics out of the way. I sat there holding the hand that wasn’t attached to a freshly shot shoulder. Nathaniel smiled at me, and that was enough. I regretted having to kill Haven the way I did, but I couldn’t regret him being dead. He’d shot Nathaniel. He’d meant to take that smile, those eyes, and the hand in mine away from me forever. No, I didn’t regret Haven being dead. If Noel hadn’t been dead, I think I’d have felt a lot better than I did about all of it.

“I’m sorry that you had to kill Haven,” Nathaniel said.

I blinked and realized I wasn’t sure what my face had been showing in the last few minutes. I smiled at him. “It’s okay.”

“No,” he said, “it’s not.”

I shrugged, the spare shoulder rig a little tight. The old one was going to have to be repaired, again. At least I hadn’t had it cut off me in an emergency room. “It is what it is.”

“Do you want me to let you be all macho about this?” he asked.

I nodded. “Please. I had my breakdown earlier.”

He squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help.”

That made me smile again. “Jean-Claude and Richard handled me.”

There was a soft knock at the door, and I didn’t know who it was until Damian came through. I was still numb from Marmee Noir and the Lover of Death, and from everything else. I realized this was the most alone in my head and emotions I’d been in a very long time. I used to crave being separate; now it felt weird, as if a piece of me had gone AWOL.

Damian had changed into his favorite robe. It looked like a Victorian smoking jacket except it came down to his ankles. The robe’s velvet had rubbed almost away at the elbows and other places. I’d never asked, but I was pretty certain that the robe wasn’t a reproduction. He’d worn this robe for over a hundred years. It had become a comfort object for him, but I didn’t begrudge it to him; I might be sleeping with a certain toy penguin if I ever got to sleep again.

His red hair was dry and shining over the dark of the robe. Straight hair dried so much faster than curly. He had a small covered tray. The rich scent of coffee was mixed in with other scents. I smelled mainly coffee but was pretty sure there was food underneath the cover. I fought not to frown. I so wasn’t hungry.

“Don’t give me that look,” he said. “You have to eat.”

“I so don’t want food, Damian.”

He walked to the little sliding table/tray by the bed and sat the food on it. He lifted the cover and the perfume of the coffee filled the room. I had to admit it smelled good. The tray was heaped with croissants, various cheeses, and fruit. It looked like enough food for all of us, if Damian could eat solid food. “Coffee, then,” I said.