Lover Beware Read Free Page B

claustrophobic."
    "It's hardly a phobia. We simply prefer open places."
    Not small, enclosed spaces. Like an elevator. Abruptly she pushed the button for the next floor down, and the elevator slowed.
    "Why did you do that?" he snapped.
    "There's no reason for you to be uncomfortable. We can take the stairs."
    The elevator halted smoothly and the doors opened. Two people were waiting to get on. The woman was a civilian, fortyish and plump—a clerk or secretary, from the look of her.
    Lily knew the man slightly, a Vice officer named Burns. She nodded at him.
    He didn't notice. He was staring at Turner. If he'd been a dog, his hackles would have been raised. The woman was staring, too. But the expression on her face was entirely different.
    The tableau lasted only a second before she and Turner got off, the other two got on, and the elevator doors closed. She glanced at him as they started down the hall, wondering if he'd noticed the woman's reaction. She had to look up, of course. He was too blasted tall.
    He was looking straight at her, those rainy-sky eyes amused and knowing.
    "You tend to evoke a reaction from people, don't you?"
    "Usually. Why don't we start my expert consultation with listening? You can tell me what you think you know about lupi and I'll correct any misinformation."
    "Good enough." The door to the stairwell was metal with the usual red Exit sign over it. She reached for it.
    Somehow he was there before her, opening the door and holding it for her. He hadn't seemed to rush, yet he'd moved very quickly. Lily stopped, studying him. He looked elegant and not at all civilized in spite of his trendy black clothing. "Legend says lupi are fast. Really fast."
    He just smiled.
    Something shivered down her spine. She got her feet moving and didn't speak again until they both were on the stairs, headed down. "I know the legal history best. Until 1930, the only federal law related to lupi was the one making it a crime not to report someone, ah, afflicted with lycanthropy. State laws varied widely. Most of them treated lupi as humans who had a dangerous disease. Some called for them to be killed outright. Then Dr. Abraham Geddes proved that lycanthropy could not be transmitted, as had previously been believed."
    "The Change isn't catching," he agreed mildly.
    "Right. It's an inherited condition. Folklore and experts alike agree that the trait is sex-linked. There are no female lupi."
    "True."
    "I guess the experts can't be wrong about everything. Anyway, soon after that came Carr v. the State ofTexas. The
    Supreme Court's ruling effectively made lupi legally human, but with a congenital disease, one that, well..."
    "Makes us mad. Incurably insane. We were locked up, if discovered. Usually in chains."
    "Yes. Well, that was some time ago. There continued to be a good deal of debate about whether lupi were human. Some of those of the Blood are obviously nonhuman, of course."
    "Gremlins, brownies, the odd pooka or banshee."
    "Pookas? I thought they were—never mind." She shook her head. Later she could ask if pookas were really extinct or not.
    They'd reached the fourth-floor landing. He was still moving easily. She was, too, though her heart rate was up slightly. She wondered if he could hear it. Lupi were said to have extremely acute hearing. "In 1964 Dr. Beatrice Pargenter discovered a serum that inhibited the Change, and everyone who considered lycanthropy a disease applauded. It was considered an enormous, and humane, breakthrough. Congress passed the registration laws, which remained in effect until five years ago."
    "You do have your legal history down."
    "I've boned up."
    Rule Turner's forehead was smooth. No tattoo, nor any sign that one had been removed. The authorities had used a special, silver-infused dye to tattoo the registration number, since the body of a were would otherwise have healed the tiny wounds inflicted by a needle within minutes. "You never registered, did you?"
    "Why, Detective, I do believe