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“We think so,” he said.

“Kaspar was under a curse,” I said.

“Are you wondering about me?”

Actually I was watching the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he talked, and wondering what it would feel like to fix teeth in his throat, but that was probably a fact best kept to myself. I kept talking, but I think both Micah and Rafael knew how ragged my control was. I hugged myself and kept talking, because silence filled with awful images, terrible desires.

“Yeah, I’m wondering,” I said.

“I was born a swan king.”

“You were born a swan king, not a swanmane. Does that mean you’re male? Is swanmane only used for women?”

He looked at me, studying my face. “I was born to be their king. I’m the first king in over a century.”

“Everybody else is chosen to lead, or fights for the right, but you make it sound like a hereditary monarchy,” I said.

“It is, but it’s not bloodlines that makes the difference, though being a swanmane either runs in your family or it doesn’t. But I didn’t inherit the title.”

“Then how did you know?” I asked.

His eyes had gotten dark, dark gray like storm clouds. “The answer to that is somewhat intimate.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“I’ll give you the answer you seek, if you answer a rather delicate question for me.”

We stared at each other. My heart rate was almost normal again. I could look at him without smelling the blood under his skin. Talking, listening, doing somewhat normal things had helped. I was a person, with speech and higher functions, not an animal. I could do this. Really. I eased out of my little ball, slowly.

“Ask and I’ll let you know,” I said.

“Did you kill Kaspar Gunderson, the last swan king?”

I blinked at him. That was unexpected. The sheer surprise made my pulse rate speed up a touch. “No, no, I didn’t.”

“Do you know who did?”

I blinked at him again. I wondered if I could lie and if he would be able to tell, or not. I finally stuck to the truth. “Yes.”

“Who?”

I shook my head. “That I won’t answer.”

“Why not?”

“Because I would have killed Kaspar myself if he hadn’t gotten away.”

“I know he was responsible for several deaths, and that he tried to kill you and some of your friends,” Reece said.

“It was a little more diabolical than that,” I said. “He was taking money from hunters and supplying them with shifters.”

Reece nodded. “He also made the swanmanes in his care into victims. I think that’s what he and the old lupa shared—sexual sadism.”

“That’s why your girls, as you put it, were at the club with Nathaniel.”

“Yes, I don’t play those sorts of games, and they’ve grown to crave it.”

I nodded. “I sympathize,” I said.

“You’ve answered my questions truthfully, I can do no less.” He started unbuttoning his shirt.

I looked at Micah, who shrugged. I looked at Rafael, who shook his head. Nice that none of us knew why he was undressing.

He left the overshirt tucked in but started pulling the undershirt out of his pants. He was about to bare his soft underbelly, and I wasn’t a hundred percent sure my control was up to seeing it. My pulse was in my throat again. Since apparently neither of the men was going to ask, I asked, “Why are you undressing?”

“To show you the symbol of my kingship.”

I stared at him. “Excuse me?”

Reece frowned at me. “Don’t worry, Ms. Blake, I’m not about to flash you.”

“I’m not worried about you flashing me, Reece, it’s that . . .” but I never finished, because he’d bared the white, white skin of his stomach. In the darkened car I could still see the pulse just behind his belly button. Hell, I could almost taste it in my mouth, as if I’d already sunk teeth into that tender flesh, as if I was already eating my way through to more vital things. Something was odd about the hair on his chest. It was almost too fine, too thin, too delicate, running in a dainty white line down the center of his chest and spreading in an upside down triangle around his belly button then down into his pants.

I was on the floorboard crawling towards him, and I didn’t remember getting there. I stopped, pressed against Micah’s legs. “I don