Burnt Offerings Read Free Page B

attention. "How bad are you hurt?"
    "It's not me."
    My heart slid up into my throat, and my voice came out squeezed and tight. "Jean-Claude." The moment I said it, I knew it was silly. It was just after noon. If Jean-Claude had needed a doctor, they would have had to come to him. Vampires did not travel well in broad daylight. Why was I so worried about a vampire? I happened to be dating him. My family, devout Catholics, are simply thrilled. Since I'm still a little embarrassed about it, it's hard to defend myself.
    "It's not Jean-Claude. It's Nathaniel."
    "Who?"
    Stephen's breath went out in a long-suffering sigh. "He was one of Gabriel's people."
    Which was another way of saying he was a wereleopard. Gabriel had been the leopards' leader, their alpha, until I killed him. Why had I killed him? Most of the wounds he'd given me had healed. It was one of the benefits of the vampire marks. I didn't scar quite so easily anymore. But there was a curl of scars high up on my buttocks and lower back, faint, almost dainty, but I would always have a little reminder of Gabriel. A reminder that his fantasy had been to rape me, to make me cry out his name, then kill me. Though knowing Gabriel, he probably hadn't been so picky on when I died, after, or during -- either would have worked for him. As long as I was still warm. Most lycanthropes aren't into carrion.
    I sounded casual about it, even in my own head. But my fingers traced along my back as if I could feel the scars through my skirt. Had to be casual about it. Had to be. Or you start screaming, and you don't stop.
    "The hospital doesn't know Nathaniel's a shapeshifter, do they?" I said.
    He lowered his voice. "They know. He's healing too fast for them not to know."
    "So why whisper?"
    "Because I'm out in the waiting room on a pay phone." There was a sound on the other end like he'd had to take the receiver away from his mouth. He muttered, "I'll be off in just a minute." He came back on. "I need you to come down, Anita."
    "Why?"
    "Please."
    "You're a werewolf, Stephen. What are you doing babysitting one of the kitty-cats?"
    "I'm one of the names in his wallet in case of emergencies. Nathaniel works at Guilty Pleasures."
    "He's a stripper?" I made it a question because he could have been a waiter, but it wasn't likely. Jean-Claude owned Guilty Pleasures, and he would never have wasted a shapeshifter off-stage. They were too damned exotic.
    "Yes."
    "The two of you need a ride?" It was my day for it, I guess.
    "Yes, and no."
    There was something in his voice that I didn't like. An unease, a tension. It wasn't like Stephen to be cagey. He didn't play games. He just talked. "How did Nathaniel get hurt?" Maybe if I asked better questions, I'd get better answers.
    "A customer got too rough."
    "At the club?"
    "No. Anita, please, there's no time. Come down and make sure he doesn't go home with Zane."
    "Who the hell is Zane?"
    "Another of Gabriel's people. He's been pimping them out since Gabriel died. But he's not protecting them like Gabriel did. He isn't alpha."
    "Pimping them out? What are you talking about?"
    Stephen's voice rose high and far too cheerful. "Hello, Zane. Have you seen Nathaniel yet?"
    I couldn't really hear the answer, just the buzz of all the people in the waiting room. "I don't think they want him to go just yet. He's hurt," Stephen said.
    Zane must have stepped very close to the phone, very close to Stephen. A low, growling voice came through the wire. "He'll go home when I say he goes home."
    Stephen's voice held an edge of panic. "I don't think the doctors will like that."
    "I don't give a shit. Who are you talking to?"
    For his voice to be that clear he had to have Stephen pinned against the wall. Threatening him, without saying anything specific.
    The growling voice was suddenly very clear. He'd taken the phone from Stephen. "Who is this?"
    "Anna Blake, and you must be Zane."
    He laughed, and it sounded too low, as if his throat were sore. "The wolves' human lupa.