He frowned. "Who's Jason?"
She caressed his cheek with her painted nails. The nails slid out of her skin long and longer, until they were great hooking claws. The tips were still the color of burnt pumpkins.
She hooked those claws under his chin, putting them just enough in not to break the skin. "The tiniest bit of pressure and you'll have a howling good time once a month."
It was a lie. She was still in human form. She wasn't contagious. All the color had drained from his face. His skin was the color of unbleached paper.
"Where's your wife's body, Mr. Smitz?" I asked. It was a good threat worth more than one question.
"I don't... don't know what you mean."
"Don't lie to me, George, I don't like it." She raised her other hand in front of his face, and the claws slid out like unsheathed knives.
He whimpered.
"Where's Peggy, George?" She whispered it. The voice was still seductive. She might have been whispering, I love you, instead of a threat.
She kept her claws under his jaw and lowered the other hand slowly. His eyes followed that hand. He tried to move his head down, but the claws stopped him. He gasped.
Raina sliced through the bloody apron. Two quick, hard slices. The clothes underneath were untouched. Talent.
"I... killed her. I killed Peggy. Oh, God. I shot her."
"Where's the body?" I asked that. Raina seemed to be enjoying her game too much to pay attention to all the details.
"Shed out back. It's got a dirt floor."
"Where's Jason?" Raina asked. She touched claw tips to his jeans, over his groin.
"Oh, God, I don't know who Jason is. Please, I don't know. I don't know." His voice was coming in breathy gasps.
Gabriel walked into the room. He'd lost the jacket somewhere and wore a tight black T-shirt with his leather pants and boots. "He doesn't have the guts to have taken Jason or the others."
"Is that right, George? You don't have the guts?" Raina pressed her br**sts against his chest, claws still at his jawline and groin. The lower claws pressed into the jean fabric, not quite tearing.
"Please, please don't hurt me."
Raina put her face very close to his. Claws forcing him to stand on tiptoes or have his chin spitted. "You are pathetic." She shoved the claws into his jeans, tearing into the fabric.
George fainted. Raina had to pull her hands away to keep from slicing him up. She kept a near perfect circle of jeans. His white briefs showed through the hole in his pants.
Gabriel knelt by the body, balancing on the balls of his feet. "This human did not take Jason."
"Pity," Raina said.
It was a pity. Somebody had taken eight, no seven shapeshifters. The eighth had been Peggy Smitz. We had her murderer on the carpet with his fly torn out. Who had taken them, and why? Why would anybody want seven lycanthropes? Something clicked. The naga had been skinned alive. If he'd been a lycanthrope instead of a naga, a witch could have used the skin to become a snake. It was a way to be a shapeshifter with all the advantages and none of the bad stuff. The moon didn't control you.
"Anita, what is it?" Ronnie asked.
"I have to go to the hospital and talk to someone."
"Why?" A look was enough for Ronnie to say, "Fine, I'll call the cops. But I drove."
"Damn." I glanced up and caught sight of a car driving by on the street. It was a Mazda, green. I knew that car.
"I may have a ride." I opened the door and walked down the sidewalk, waving. The car slowed, then double-parked beside Ronnie's car.
The window whirred down at the press of a button. Edward sat behind the wheel, a pair of dark glasses covering his eyes. "I've been following Raina for days. How'd you spot me?"
"Dumb luck."
He grinned. "Not so dumb."
"I need a ride."
"What about Raina and her little leather friend?"
It occurred to me to tell him that Gabriel was the other lycanthrope in the snuff film, but if I did that now, he'd go in and kill him. Or at least wouldn't want to take me to the hospital. Priorities.
"We can either give them a ride home or they can take a taxi."
"Taxi," he said.
"My preference, too."
Edward drove around the block to wait for me. Raina and Gabriel were persuaded to call a taxi to pick them up in front of another house. They didn't want to talk to the police. Fancy that. George Smitz came to, and Raina convinced him to confess to the police when they arrived. I apologized to Ronnie for deserting her and walked down the block to meet Edward. We were off to the hospital to talk to the naga. Here's hoping he'd gained consciousness.
35
There was a uniformed officer standing outside the naga's room. Edward had stayed in the car. After all, he was wanted by the police. One of the bad things about working with Edward and the cops is that you can't necessarily work with them at the same time.
The cop at the door was a small woman with a blond ponytail. There was a chair beside the door, but she was standing, one hand on her gun butt. Her pale eyes squinted suspiciously at me.
She gave a curt nod. "You Anita Blake?"
"Yeah."
"See some ID?" she said, real tough, no nonsense. Had to be a rookie. Only a rookie had that hard-on attitude. Older cops would have asked for ID, but they wouldn't have tried to make their voices lower.
I showed her my plastic ID badge. The one I clipped to my shirt when I had to cross a police line. It wasn't a police badge, but it was the best I had.
She took it in her hand and looked at it for a long time. I fought the urge to ask if she was going to be tested later. It never helps to piss the police off. Especially over trivialities.
She finally gave the badge back to me. Her eyes were blue and cold as a winter sky. Very tough. Probably practiced that look in the mirror every morning. "No one can question the man without police being present. When you called up to ask to speak with him, I contacted Sergeant Storr. He's on his way."
"How long will I have to wait?"
"I don't know."
"Look, a man's missing, any delay could cost him his life."
I had her attention now. "Sergeant Storr didn't mention a missing person."
Shit. I'd forgotten that the cops didn't know about the missing shapeshifters. "I don't suppose that you'd buy time is of the essence. How about lives are at stake?"
Her eyes went from hard to bored. She was impressed. "Sergeant Storr was very specific. He wants to be present when you question the man."
"Are you sure you spoke with Sergeant Storr, and not Detective Zerbrowski?" It would be like Zerbrowski to screw this up for me, just to irritate.
"I know who I spoke with, Ms. Blake."
"I didn't mean to imply that you didn't, Officer. I just meant that Zerbrowski could have gotten confused about how much access I'm allowed to the... ah, witness."
"I talked to the sergeant, and I know what he told me. You're not going in until he gets here. Those are my orders."
I started to say something unpleasant and stopped. Officer Kirlin was right. She had her orders, and she wasn't going to budge from them.
I glanced at her nameplate. "Fine, Officer Kirlin. I'll just wait around the corner in the patient waiting room." I turned and walked away before I said something not so nice. I wanted to push my way into the room, pull rank. But I didn't have any rank. It was one of those times when I was forcibly reminded that I was a civilian. I didn't like being reminded.
I sat down on a multicolored couch that backed a raised area of real plants. The chest-high planting area gave the illusion of walls, dividing the waiting room into three pseudo rooms. The illusion of privacy if you needed it. A television set was mounted high on one wall. No one had bothered to turn it on yet. It was hospital quiet. The only noise was the heater coming through the wall registers.
I hated waiting. Jason was missing. Was he dead? If he were alive, how much longer would he be alive? How long would Dolph keep me waiting?
Dolph came around the corner. Bless his little heart, he hadn't kept me waiting long at all.
I stood. "Officer Kirlin says you mentioned a missing person to her. Are you holding out on me?"
"Yeah, but not by choice. I've got a client that won't go to the police. I've tried to persuade them..." I shrugged. "Just because I'm right and they're wrong doesn't mean I can spill their secrets without clearing it with them first."