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She made a face at me. “Anita, please, I haven’t told anyone either, but they’re going to guess. I threw up at the murder scene, I’ve never done that. I didn’t pass out cold like you did, but I came close. Perry had to help me out into the yard so I could be sick. It won’t take them long to figure it out.”

“This is not the first scene I’ve thrown up at, not even the fourth,” I said. I haven’t done it in a while, but I’ve certainly done it before. Surely they’ve told you the story about me throwing up on the body. Zerbrowski loves that one.”

“Sure, but I thought he was exaggerating. You know how Zerbrowski is.”

“He wasn’t exaggerating.”

“You can lie to me if you want to, but unless you’re planning to abort, they’ll all figure it out sooner or later.”

“I am not pregnant,” I said, though I had a little trouble saying it, because I was shivering so badly it was hard to talk. “I’m just sick.”

“You’re freezing, Anita, you don’t have a fever.”

How could I explain to her that I was having a bad reaction to a vampire bite and the fact that I shared Richard’s beast. Odd metaphysics weren’t easy to explain. Pregnancy was nice and simple, compared to that.

She grabbed my arms, a lot like Dolph had. “I am three months pregnant. How far along are you? Please tell me, tell me I haven’t been a fool. Tell me I haven’t ruined my life by not reading the fine print on a bottle of medicine.”

I was shivering so hard, it was hard to talk, but I managed to get out, “I—am—not pregnant.”

She stood and turned her back on me. “Damn you for not sharing.”

I tried to say something, I wasn’t even sure what, but she left, leaving the door open behind her. I wasn’t sure being left alone was a good thing, the shivering was getting worse, like I was freezing to death from the inside. Larry Kirkland was off being trained to be a federal marshal. He didn’t have four years as a vamp executioner yet, so he couldn’t get grandfathered in. I wondered if the pregnancy was making it harder for him to be away from Tammy, or easier. Damn it, anyway.

Perry brought Jason up to me. He touched me. “God, you’re cold.” He picked me up in his arms like I weighed nothing. “I’m taking her home.”

“We’ll give you an escort through the press,” Perry said.

Jason didn’t argue. He carried me down the stairs. We waited for a few minutes, while Perry rounded up enough warm bodies to act as a sort of living gauntlet to try and keep the press at bay.

The door opened, the sunlight hit my eyes and the headache roared to life. I buried my face against Jason’s chest. Jason seemed to know what was wrong, because he raised an edge of Tammy’s jacket across my eyes.

“Are you ready?” Perry’s voice.

“Let’s do it,” Jason said.

Normally, I’d have felt humiliated to be carried out of a murder scene like a wilting flower, but I was working too hard on keeping the shivering under control. It took all my concentration not to let my body shake itself apart. What the hell was wrong with me?

We were outside, and moving at a good pace. I could judge how close we were to the press by how loud the yelling was getting. “What’s wrong with Ms. Blake?” “What happened to her?” “Who are you?” “Where are you taking her?” There were more questions, lots more. They all melded into a noise like the ocean against the shore. The crowd surged around us. There was a moment when I felt them closing like a fist around us, but Merlioni’s voice rose to a shout, “Back up, back up now, or we’ll clear this area!”

Jason got me inside the Jeep, leaning his shoulder into me, so he could fasten the seat belt. The jacket was across my face now, and strangely it felt claustrophobic.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

I was already doing what he’d asked, but I didn’t say anything. The jacket moved away, and the sun was bright against my closed eyelids. I felt the sunglasses slip over my eyes, and I opened them cautiously. Better.

There was a line of detectives and uniforms in front of the Jeep, keeping the pack of reporters back,