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I told him exactly what had happened. I told the truth, all of it. Of course, I didn’t know enough to need to lie. They’d carted Igor’s body away, all those bright tattoos still vibrant, more alive than the rest of him. We had one dead and one wounded. It was my house. It was obviously a case of self-defense. The only difference from the other two times I’d had to kill people in my house was the number of bodies and that some of them were so not-human. Other than that, I’d walked on much more questionable occasions. So why was Dolph treating this one more seriously? I didn’t have a clue.

Dolph stared down at me. He has a much better steely gaze than Zerbrowski, but I gave him calm, blank eyes. I could look innocent this time, because I was.

“And you don’t know why they wanted to take you?”

Actually, I had a thought on that one, but I didn’t share it, couldn’t. They might have come hunting me because I nearly killed their leader. One of the problems with withholding evidence from the police is that later you can’t always explain yourself without confessing that you’ve withheld evidence. This was one of those moments. I hadn’t told Dolph about the half-men half-snakes taking Nathaniel and the fight afterwards. I could have told him now, but . . . but there were too many things that I’d have had to tell him, like that maybe I was going to be a wereleopard. Dolph hated the monsters. I wasn’t ready to share that with him.

I gave him an innocent face and said, “Nope.”

“They wanted you pretty damn bad, Anita, to come in here with this kind of firepower.”

I shrugged. “I guess so.”

The anger filled his eyes, thinned his lips to a tight line. “You are lying to me.”

I widened my eyes. “Would I do that?”

He whirled and slammed his hand into the top of my dresser, hard enough that the mirror thudded against the wall. The glass shivered, and for a second I thought it might shatter. It didn’t, but the door opened and Zerbrowski stuck his head in the door. “Everything alright in here?”

Dolph glared at him, but Zerbrowski didn’t flinch. “Maybe I should finish questioning Anita.”

Dolph shook his head. “Get out, Zerbrowski.”

Brave man that he was, he looked at me. “You okay with that, Anita?”

I nodded, but Dolph was already yelling, “Get the fuck out!”

Zerbrowski gave us both a last look and closed the door, saying, “Yell if you need anything.” The door closed, and in the sudden silence I could hear Dolph’s breathing, heavy, labored. I could smell the sweat on his skin, faint, not unpleasant, but a sure sign that he was in distress. What was going on?

“Dolph?” I made his name a question.

He spoke without turning around. “I am taking a lot of heat for you, Anita.”

“Not on this you’re not,” I said. “Everybody that you took out of this house won’t be human. The laws may cover shapeshifters as human, but I know how it works. What’s one more dead monster?”

He turned then, leaning his big body against the dresser, arms crossed. “I thought that shapeshifters changed back to human form when they died.”

“They do,” I said.

“The snake things didn’t.”

“No, they didn’t.”

We looked at each other. “You’re saying they weren’t shapeshifters?”

“No, I’m saying I don’t know what the hell they are. There are snake men in a lot of different mythologies. Hindu, vaudun. They could be something that was never human to begin with.”

“You mean like the naga you pulled out of the river two years ago?” he said.

“The naga was truly immortal. These things, whatever they are, couldn’t stand up to silver bullets.”

He closed his eyes for a second, and when he looked at me again, I saw how tired he was. Not a physical tiredness, but a tiredness of the heart, as if he’d been carrying some emotional burden around a little too long.

“What’s wrong, Dolph? What’s got you so . . . riled up?”

He gave a small smile. “Riled up.” He shook his head and pushed away from the dresser. He sat on the edge of the bed, and I turned in the chair, so