Cerulean Sins Read Free

as matter-of-fact as I could make it.
    He gave that small smile of his. “You’re not very good at being coy, Ms. Blake.”
    â€œNo, I’m not, but since I’m not being coy, that’s not a problem.”
    â€œMs. Blake,” he said, voice almost cajoling, “please, do not insult my intelligence.”
    I thought about saying, but it’s so easy , but didn’t. First, it wasn’t easy at all; second, I was a little nervous about where this line of questioning was going. But I was not going to help him by volunteering information. Say less, it irritates people.
    â€œI haven’t insulted your intelligence.”
    He made a frown that I think was as true as that small smile. The real Harlan peeking through. “Rumor says that you haven’t worked on the night of the full moon for a few months now.” He seemed very serious all of a sudden, not in a menacing way, almost as if I’d been impolite, forgotten my table manners, or something, and he was correcting me.
    â€œMaybe I’m Wiccan. The full moon is a holy day for them you know. Or rather night.”
    â€œAre you Wiccan, Ms. Blake?”
    It never took me long to grow tired of word games. “No, Mr. Harlan, I am not.”
    â€œThen why don’t you work on the night of the full moon?” He was studying my face, searching it, as if for some reason the answer were more important than it should have been.
    I knew what he wanted me to say. He wanted me to confess to being a shape-shifter of some kind. Trouble was I couldn’t confess, because it wasn’t true. I was the first human Nimir-Ra, leopard queen, of a wereleopard pardin their history. I’d inherited the leopards when I was forced to kill their old leader, to keep him from killing me. I was also Bolverk of the local werewolf pack. Bolverk was more than a bodyguard, less than an executioner. It was basically someone who did the things that the Ulfric either couldn’t, or wouldn’t do. Richard Zeeman was the local Ulfric. He’d been my off-again, on-again honey-bun for a couple of years. Right now, it was off, very off. His parting shot to me had been, “I don’t want to love someone who is more at home with the monsters than I am.” What do you say to that? What can you say? Damned if I know. They say love conquers everything. They lie.
    As Nimir-Ra and Bolverk, I had people depending on me. I took the full moon off, so I’d be available. It was simple really, and nothing I was willing to share with Leo Harlan.
    â€œI sometimes take personal days, Mr. Harlan. If they’ve coincided with the full moon, I assure you, it’s coincidental.”
    â€œRumor says you got cut up by a shifter a few months back, and now you’re one of them.” His voice was still quiet, but I was ready for this one. My face, my body, everything was calm, because he was wrong.
    â€œI am not a shape-shifter, Mr. Harlan.”
    His eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you, Ms. Blake.”
    I sighed. “I don’t really care if you believe me, Mr. Harlan. My being a lycanthrope, or not, has no bearing on how good I am at raising the dead.”
    â€œRumor says you’re the best, but you keep telling me the rumors are wrong. Are you really as good as they say you are?”
    â€œBetter.”
    â€œYou’re rumored to have raised entire graveyards.”
    I shrugged. “You’ll turn a girl’s head with talk like that.”
    â€œAre you saying it’s true?”
    â€œDoes it really matter? Let me repeat: I can raise your ancestor, Mr. Harlan. I’m one of the few, if not the only, animator in this country that can do it without resorting to a human sacrifice.” I smiled at him, my professional smile, the one that was all bright and shiny and as empty of meaning as a lightbulb. “Will next Wednesday or Thursday be alright?”
    He nodded. “I’ll leave my cell