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I blinked at him. “What are you talking about?”

Nathaniel started to come farther into the room, but Cherry caught his arm, kept him near the door for a quick getaway—I think. Zane appeared in the doorway behind them. He was still the six-feet, pale, overly thin, but muscular guy I’d met when he was trashing a hospital emergency room. But he’d dyed his hair to an iridescent pale green, cut short, spiked. The fact that he was fully dressed actually looked odd to me. Of course, it was Zane’s version of street clothes that ran to leather, no shirt, and vests.

I looked at the three of them in the doorway. They were so solemn. I remembered Gregory falling into me during the fight. His claws piercing me. “I’ve been cut up a lot worse by a wereleopard, and I didn’t catch it,” I said.

“Dr. Lillian thinks it may be because the wound was a deep piercing wound, instead of a surface cut,” Cherry said, in a voice that was almost shaky. She was scared, scared of how I’d take the news, or scared of something else, but what?

“I am not going to be Nimir-Ra for real, guys. I can’t catch lycanthropy. If I could . . . I’ve already been cut up enough . . . I’d have turned furry already.”

The three of them just looked at me with wide eyes. I turned from them to Micah. His face was still neutral, careful, but there was a shadow in his eyes of . . . pity. Pity? I did not do pity, not as the object of it, anyway.

“You’re serious,” I said.

“You’re exhibiting all the secondary symptoms,” he said. “Rapid healing to the point that your muscles cramp. A temperature hot enough to boil the brain of a human. Yet when they lowered your temperature you nearly died. You needed to bake in the warmth, the heat of your pard to heal. That’s how we healed you. It wouldn’t have worked if you weren’t one of us.”

I shook my head. “I don’t believe you.”

“That’s okay,” he said, “you’ve got two weeks until the full moon. You won’t change for the first time until then. You’ve got time.”

“Time for what?” I asked.

“Time to mourn,” he said.

I turned away from the compassion in his eyes, the pity. Shit. I still didn’t believe it. “How about a blood test? That should prove it one way or the other.”

Cherry answered, “Wolf lycanthropy shows up in the bloodstream anywhere from twenty-four to forty-eight hours, sometimes seventy-two. Leopard lycanthropy, most of the big cat lycanthropies, take anywhere from seventy-two hours to over eight days to show up in the bloodstream. A blood test won’t prove anything yet.”

I stared at them, trying to wrap my mind around it, and it just wouldn’t wrap. I shook my head. “I can’t deal with this right now.”

“You’re going to have to deal with it,” Micah said.

I shook my head. “Tonight, I have to get Jean-Claude out of jail. I have to show the police he didn’t murder me.”

“Your pard told me that you wouldn’t want to be outted. That you wouldn’t want your police friends to know.”

“I am not a wereleopard,” I said. It sounded stubborn even to me.

Micah smiled, gently, and that pissed me off. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Like a poor little deluded girl. There are things you don’t understand about me, about where my power comes from.”

“You mean the vampire marks,” he said.

I looked past him to the three wereleopards in the doorway. Something on my face made them all flinch. “So nice to know that we’re just one big happy family with no secrets.”

“I was in on the discussions with the doctors on whether your rapid healing could be merely a side effect of the vampire marks,” he said.

“Of course it is,” I said. But the first thread of doubt was worming its way through my stomach.

“If it will make you feel better,” he said.

I stared into that compassionate face and felt anger wash over me in a line of heat, and with the anger came that trembling energy. Richard’s beast . . . or mine? I let myself think the thought all the way through for the first time. Was it my beast that I’d felt with Micah? Was that why I hadn’t gotten a sense of where Richard was, and what