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She nodded.

“What is it holding in its hands?”

“It could be many things, but I think it is the lesser things of the body. The heart is spoken for, as are the bones, and many other parts, but no god feeds on the . . .” she frowned, searching for the word, “. . . intestines, and other viscera.”

“That makes sense,” I said.

I felt Ramirez shift beside me, as if he badly wanted to say it does. But he kept quiet because he was a good cop, and she was talking to me. Did it really matter why? Not right that second it didn’t.

“You saw the creature that . . .” it was my turn to hesitate. If the police knew what Nicky had done, it was an automatic death sentence. But frankly, he deserved it. The werewolves that he had sucked dry hadn’t been willing sacrifices. And he’d cut them up, knowing they were still alive, he’d cut them up and sewn them into that monster behind the bar. It was one of the worst things I’d come across, and that was saying a lot.

I made my decision and knew that it would eventually cost Nicky his life. “You saw the creature that Nicky Baco made?”

She nodded. “I saw. It is a corruption of a great gift.”

“Does his master gain power through it just like you do?”

“Yes, and Nicky Baco gains power through it, much as Pinotl does. As you have.”

“Can he pass that power to others, like maybe a werewolf pack?”

She seemed to think about that, head to one side, then finally nodded. “It would be possible to share with wereanimals if you had some bond with them of a mystical nature.”

“He’s vargamor for the local pack,” I said.

“I am not familiar with the word vargamor.”

It was a wolf term. “It’s their witch, their brujo, and they are bound to the pack.”

“Then certainly he could share the power with them.”

“Nicky said he didn’t know where this god lay.”

“He lies,” she said. “You do not gain this power without the touch of your god’s hand.”

I’d gotten that from the images that had filled me, but I wanted it confirmed.

“Then Nicky should be able to take us to the place where the god is hiding?”

She nodded. “He knows.”

“Do you have a problem with us hunting down and killing a god from your pantheon?”

A look crossed her face that I didn’t understand. “If it is a god, then you cannot kill it, and if you can kill it, then it is not a god. I do not mourn the death of false gods.”

It was kind of funny coming from her, but I let it go. It wasn’t my job to convince her what she was, or what she wasn’t. “Thank you for your help, Itzpapalotl.”

She gave me a long look, and I knew what she wanted, but . . . “You are indeed a goddess, but I cannot serve two masters,” I said.

“His power is lust, and you deny him his power.”

I felt the heat rush up my face and wondered what a blush looked like with glowing black eyes. It wasn’t what she’d said. It was me knowing what she’d seen in my head. She knew more intimate details than my best friend. Just as I’d shared what she and Pinotl considered a very private and intimate moment of their sharing. Fair is fair, but somehow I didn’t think Itzpapalotl blushed.

“I thought I was just denying him sex.”

She looked at me the way you’d look at a child that was deliberately misunderstanding a point. “Tell me, Anita, what is the base of my power?”

The question surprised me, but I answered it; the time for lying between us was past. “Power, you feed off of pure power regardless of the source.”

She smiled, and that thread of power in me smiled with her, made me feel glowy all over. “Now, what is your master’s base of power?”

I’d been running from this particular truth for a very long time. Not all master vampires had a secondary power base, another way to draw energy, other than blood or human servants or animals to call. But some did, and Jean-Claude was one of them.

“Anita,” she said, as if reminding me that I was supposed to be saying something.

“Sex, his base of power is sex,” I said.

Again, she smiled happily at me, and I felt that warm answering glow. It was good to be truthful. It was good to be smart. It was good to please her. And that of course was one of her