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“I won’t ask you again, move!”

“She is doing her job, mon ami.”

“Shut up,” he screamed, “shut up, I don’t want to hear you right now.”

Oh, boy. I moved around the narrow edge between tub and wall on the closest side to the door. I stopped on the raised platform so I was totally framed by the cool black marble with its white and silver streaks. My pulse was in my throat, because even a few inches closer made their power hotter, like moving closer to that open flame when your skin is crying out, Hot, hot, don’t touch.

“Richard.” I whispered it, but he heard me.

He looked at me with that rage-filled face, and the moment he saw me, his eyes filled with such pain, as if the sight of me like that was a knife blow straight through his heart. I was sorry for the pain, but happy about the reaction. Almost any emotion is better for a shapeshifter than anger. Anger feeds their beasts quicker. We needed to slow things down.

“How could you do that? How could you do that with him?” I thought he meant Auggie, until he pointed a finger at Jean-Claude.

“I’m not sure what you mean by ‘that,’ Richard.”

“Don’t play me, Anita,” and this was a yell. He covered his face with his hands, and staggered back a step. He screamed, wordless, and so full of pain. He dropped to his knees, and screamed again. His power filled the room as if we’d all been plunged into boiling water. It felt as if my skin were being cooked. I’d felt Richard’s power before, but nothing like this. How much power had he gained from our feed on Auggie?

Claudia stayed in a fighting stance, and I didn’t blame her. Graham was just inside the door, rubbing his bare arms, looking conflicted. He owed Richard his allegiance, but he was paid to keep us safe. He also knew that Richard would never forgive any of the wolves that allowed him to hurt me. Jean-Claude I wasn’t so sure about, but me, he’d regret it later, and his regret had a way of raining all over everybody. Lisandro was in the room too, near the sinks. There was no conflict on his dark face. He was tall, dark, and handsome, with the longest hair of any of the male wererats. If Claudia said jump, he’d do it.

Clay was in the doorway, as tormented as Graham. We needed fewer wolves in here, and more wererats, or werehyenas, anything but people who would hesitate.

Richard lowered his hands, and his eyes were pure chocolate brown. He’d swallowed some of that awful, burning power. “You helped him rape the Master of Chicago.” He wasn’t yelling now, and I almost wished he had. It would have been easier to hear than the anguish in his voice.

But what he said made no sense to me. “It wasn’t rape, Richard. You know that. You felt some of what Auggie was feeling. Hell, Richard, Auggie started the ball rolling. He raised my ardeur on purpose, picked a fight with me.”

Richard looked at me, and I watched him want to believe me, but be afraid to. “Do you really think I’d rape someone?”

He shook his head. “No, but he would.” He pointed toward Jean-Claude, who was standing very still behind me.

His voice came neutral, as empty as he could make it. “I have done many things over the centuries, Richard, but rape has never been to my taste.”

I remembered Jean-Claude’s memories with Auggie. Belle had wanted him to rape Auggie, and Jean-Claude had changed it to something gentler, or as gentle as he could make it with Belle watching. I opened my mouth to say something, but knew somehow that telling about the other two times that Jean-Claude and Auggie had had sex wouldn’t help us.

“See, Anita, you can’t defend him either.”

“I do defend him. Jean-Claude has a lot of faults; rape isn’t one of them.”

“That wasn’t what you started to say a second ago.” He was still kneeling on the floor, but he was calming, swallowing that choking power. He was showing the control that had helped make him Ulfric of the Thronnos Rokke Clan.

Claudia moved to one side, so she could see him as she glanced at me. I gave her a small nod, but added, “I think Clay and Graham have