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“Great,” I said. “I’ll be there, Daniel.”

“I’ve got to go.” He hung up suddenly as if afraid of being caught. His mom had probably come into the room. The Zeemans had four sons and a daughter. The sons were all six feet or above. The daughter was five nine. They were all over twenty-one. And they were all scared of their mother. Not literally scared, but Charlotte Zeeman wore the pants in the family. One family dinner and I knew that.

I hung up the phone, turned on the lamp, and started to pack. It occurred to me while I was throwing things into a suitcase to wonder why the hell I was doing this. I could say that it was because Richard was the other third of a triumvirate of power that Jean-Claude had forged between the three of us. Master vampire, Ulfric, or wolf king, and necromancer. I was the necromancer. We were bound so tightly together that sometimes we invaded each other’s dreams by accident. Sometimes not so accidentally.

But I wasn’t riding to the rescue because Richard was our third. I could admit to myself, if to no one else, that I still loved Richard. Not the same way I loved Jean-Claude, but it was just as real. He was in trouble, and I would help him if I could. Simple. Complicated. Hurtful.

I wondered what Jean-Claude would think of me dropping everything to go rescue Richard. It didn’t really matter. I was going, and that was that. But I did spare a thought for how that might make my vampire lover feel. His heart didn’t always beat, but it could still break.

Love sucks. Sometimes it feels good. Sometimes it’s just another way to bleed.

2

I MADE PHONE calls. My friend Catherine Maison-Gillette was an attorney. She’d been with me on more than one occasion when I had to make a statement to the police about a dead body that I helped make dead. So far, no jail time. Hell, no trial. How did I accomplish this? I lied.

Bob, Catherine’s husband, answered on the fifth ring, voice so heavy with sleep it was almost unintelligible. Only the bass growl let me know which of them it was. Neither of them woke gracefully.

“Bob, this is Anita. I need to speak with Catherine. It’s business.”

“You at a police station?” he asked. See, Bob knew me.

“No, I don’t need a lawyer for me this time.”

He didn’t ask questions. He just said, “Here’s Catherine. If you think I have no curiosity at all, you’re wrong, but Catherine will fill me in after you hang up.”

“Thanks, Bob,” I said.

“Anita, what’s wrong?” Catherine’s voice sounded normal. She was a criminal attorney with a private firm. She was wakened a lot at odd hours. She didn’t like it, but she recovered well.

I told her the bad news. She knew Richard. Liked him a lot. Didn’t understand why in hell I’d dumped him for Jean-Claude. Since I couldn’t tell her about Richard being a werewolf, it was sort of hard to explain. Heck, even if I could have mentioned the werewolf part, it was hard to explain.

“Carl Belisarius,” she said when I was finished. “He’s one of the best criminal attorneys in that state. I know him personally. He’s not as careful about his clients as I am. He’s got some clients that are known criminal figures, but he’s good.”

“Can you contact him and get him started?” I asked.

“You need Richard’s permission for this, Anita.”

“I can’t talk Richard into taking on a new attorney until I see him. Time is always precious on a crime, Catherine. Can Belisarius at least start the wheels in motion?”

“Do you know if Richard has an attorney now?”

“Daniel mentioned something about him refusing to see his lawyer, so I assume so.”

“Give me Daniel’s number, and I’ll see what I can do,” she said.

“Thanks, Catherine, really.”

She sighed. “I know you’d go to this much trouble for any of your friends. You’re just that loyal. But are you sure your motives are just friendly in this?”

“What are you asking me?”

“You still love him, don’t you?”

“No comment,” I said.

Catherine gave a soft laugh. “No comment. You’re not the one under suspicion here.”

“Says you,” I said.

“Fine, I’ll do what I can on this end. Let me know when you get there.