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I said, “Please.”

I didn’t say please often. Bernardo hesitated but finally turned back to watch the gathering werewolves. He hissed, “Hurry up.”

I did what the lady with the shotgun pointed at my chest said, I moved very, very slowly, and handed her my ID.

“Lay it on the bar.”

I laid it on the bar.

“Hands flat on the bar. Lean into it.”

The bar top was sticky, but I kept my hands on it and leaned into it, in a sort of push-up position. She could have just asked me to assume the position. It was a leg width away from it.

“Him, too,” she said.

Bernardo had heard her. “No,” he said.

Something passed through her eyes that would have made Edward proud. I knew she’d do it. “Either do what she says or get the fuck out of here,” I said.

He moved so he could watch the room at large, and see me and the lady behind the bar. He was beside the outer door. One quick move and he could be out in the afternoon sunlight. He didn’t go for the door. He looked at me. His eyes flicked to the woman behind the bar. I think he saw in her face what I’d seen because he sighed enough that his shoulders slumped. He shook his head, but he moved towards the long bar. He moved stiffly, as if each small movement pained him. His posture, his face, all screamed that he didn’t like doing this, but he leaned beside me against the bar.

“Legs farther apart,” she said. “Lean into it like you want to see that pretty face in the polish.”

I heard Bernardo take a hissing breath, but he spread his legs and leaned close enough to see the varnish on the scarred bar. “Can I just say now that this is a bad idea?” he said.

“Shut up,” I said.

The woman opened the ID on the bar top, one hand still hidden under the bar. They had the shotgun attached underneath the bar somehow. I wondered what other surprises they had.

“Why do you want to see Nicky?” she asked.

She hadn’t told me to stop leaning, so I didn’t. “I told the truth. I want to talk to another necromancer.”

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were up front?”

“I work with the cops sometimes. I thought it might make you nervous.” I had to roll my eyes up to see her face. I was rewarded with a smile. It looked almost awkward on her harsh features, but it was a start.

“Why do you want to talk to another necromancer?”

I let the truth spill out of my mouth without concentrating on the fact that I planned to stop before I’d told all of it. I mean Nicky Baco was a necromancer, and if necromancy was involved in the killings . . . So only part of the truth until I knew whether he was a bad guy. “I’ve got a little problem that involves the dead. I wanted a second opinion.”

She laughed then, a harsh sound like the caw of a crow. I jumped, and I swear I could feel the werewolves behind me flinch. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have said they were just a little afraid of this small woman. I know I was.

“Nicky’ll love that. The famous Anita Blake coming to consult him. Oh, he will just fucking love this.” She motioned with her head. “Who’s he?”

“This is Bernardo, he’s . . . a friend.”

Her eyes hardened. “How good a friend?”

“Close, very close,” I said.

She leaned across the bar, putting her face next to mine, her hand still under the bar on the shotgun. “I should kill you. I can feel it. You’ll hurt Nicky.” I looked into her eyes from inches away. I expected to see anger or even hatred, but there was nothing. It was the very emptiness that clued me in. If she pulled the trigger on me, it wouldn’t be the first time.

My pulse was suddenly thudding in my throat. Blown away by a psychotic dwarf bartender, how ironic. I kept my voice low and even the way you talk to jumpers on ledges, and people with guns pointed at you. “I don’t plan to hurt Nicky. I honestly just want to consult with him, one necromancer to another.”

She just kept looking at me, not even blinking. She raised up slowly. “If you move, I’ll kill you. If he moves, I’ll kill you.” The way she said it promised that whatever was about to happen, was something we weren’t going to like.

She turned her gaze to Bernardo and leaned down