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“Narcissus keeps track of things like that.”

“Why would he care?”

“He wants a baby.”

That made me raise my eyebrows. “I’ve never pictured Narcissus as the paternal type.”

“Try maternal.”

“What?”

“We’ll be waiting for you, Anita. Don’t keep him waiting. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” I heard sorrow in his voice, sorrow bordering on grief. I almost asked what was wrong, but he’d already hung up. What had Narcissus done to him to put that tone in his voice? Did I really want to know? Probably not. Not unless there was something I could do about it, and there wasn’t. If I started a war with every harsh lycanthrope master in town, I’d have to kill them all, or almost. The only one who wasn’t harsh was Richard, and that was going to get him killed. I complained about Narcissus being too harsh and Richard being too soft. I guess I was just never satisfied.

I hung up the phone and told Nathaniel what was happening while I picked out clothes. Nathaniel threw a tank top over the jogging shorts he’d slept in, added jogging shoes, no socks. He knew better than to try and dress, because he’d insist on unbraiding his hair and combing it out, which would take all the time the rest of us would need to get dressed. I was wrong. Nathaniel wasn’t even close to done with his hair when the rest of us were dressed and ready to go. Bobby Lee and Cris just threw on their shirts and shoes, ran fingers through their short hair, put the holsters back on, and they were ready to go. Gil came down in jeans, jogging shoes, and an untucked men’s dress shirt. The shirt looked new, but he didn’t keep us waiting. Caleb came down in jeans and nothing else. I didn’t bother to tell him to throw a shirt on, or shoes. Somehow I didn’t think that Narcissus would deny us service because Caleb was underdressed.

I actually took the longest getting dressed: black jeans, red polo shirt, black Nikes, every blade I had, including the new back sheath I’d had made for the largest knife that ran along my spine. The first sheath had gotten cut to pieces by emergency room personnel, while they were trying to save my life. I also brought my two handguns, though I wasn’t sure that any of us would be allowed to bring guns into the club. But just in case I brought them, and I warned Cris and Bobby Lee about the no-guns rule. They flashed their own set of wicked-looking blades—about three apiece—and we were ready to go.

I thought about calling Christine the weretiger, but figured since it wasn’t quite seven that I’d let somebody sleep in today. Besides, I didn’t know shit yet. When I knew something worth sharing, I’d share.

I was halfway to the club when I realized that the ardeur hadn’t set in. It was morning. I was awake. There wasn’t a stir from the ardeur. Hope flared through me in a warm, fuzzy wash. Maybe the ardeur was going to be temporary. Dear God, I hoped so. I said a brief prayer of thanks and kept monitoring myself for the first hints of unbridled lust.

We arrived at Narcissus in Chains with me grumpy, but not the least bit lustful. It was a good day.

60

I WAS ABLE to park right in front of Narcissus in Chains. Not only was there no line at 8:00 A.M., there were no other people in front of the club. The wide sidewalk stretched empty, almost golden, in the early morning light. If I’d had time for coffee, I might even have said it was pretty, but I hadn’t had time for coffee, so the sunlight was just bright. I had finally broken down and bought sunglasses a few weeks ago. I huddled behind them, wishing I was still in bed. I was so tired, I felt fuzzy-headed. I’m usually pretty good at going without sleep. The only thing I could blame the fuzziness on was the heat exhaustion from the night before. Maybe I needed more than three hours to recover from it. It made me wonder how bad off I’d have been if I hadn’t had all my preternatural powers. A person can die of heatstroke.

Nathaniel was at my side, Bobby Lee and Cris, a step behind and to either side. Gil