Bullet

4

JEAN-CLAUDE AND ASHER took the limo with Wicked and Truth and went ahead to Circus of the Damned. Why didn’t we keep security? One, our car wouldn’t hold that many people. Two, I was armed and had three wereanimals with me. I felt pretty secure.

Jean-Claude said he’d have a light repast prepared. He actually said that. He only talked like that when he was trying to hide emotions, thoughts, whatever. Was it cowardly to let him drive away with Asher, knowing they’d be fighting all the way home? Maybe, but I was hoping it wasn’t my fight. One of the serious downsides to sleeping with this many men was the emotional upkeep.

J.J., Micah, Vivian, and I waited for the men to change. Stephen could have gone home in his outfit, but Nathaniel and Jason weren’t really street safe. We’d gotten away with a guy-on-guy kiss and not gotten any negative reactions, but I think we all felt that wearing nothing but tights home would be pushing it in the buckle of the Bible Belt.

All three of them went to find the showers, and the rest of us wandered into the lobby to wait for them. We found the only bench and there was only room for three of us, and none of us were large people. Small bench. Micah insisted on standing, and I let him since I was still in three-inch heels from work. When he wore heels I’d let him sit.

J.J. and Vivian looked even more delicate and lovely in their gauzy dresses. J.J.’s looked almost like she could have worn it onstage in some of the numbers we’d seen tonight. Vivian’s was a little heavier with the shiny beading on it, but they both looked like the fair maidens ready to greet their knights who had fought the good fight. I looked like what I was, someone who had hurried out of work to make the event.

Micah leaned against the wall beside me. I took his hand in mine, and just that made me feel better. He was in his work clothes, too, after all, and I thought he looked great.

J.J. didn’t sit long before she had to get up and begin to pace. It wasn’t really pacing, it was more like she was humming in her head, but her idea of humming needed physical movement. She almost danced as she moved, tracing some shape with her flat slippers and her pink dress. She wasn’t that much taller than me, but she seemed much taller, longer, leaner, all graceful lines, like someone should have been painting her.

Vivian moved a little closer to me on the bench. She was a wereanimal, and our leopard, and when wereanimals feel low they like touch. It’s comforting. I took the hint and held my other hand out to her. She accepted my hand with a little smile and took it as an invitation to sidle close enough for our hips to touch. There was a time when that would have weirded me out, but I knew Vivian didn’t mean to encroach on my personal space. She just needed touch.

I raised my arm and let her cuddle under it so that my arm was across her slender shoulders. Sitting down I was taller through the torso than she was, so I could actually keep my arm around her and have her tucked underneath. I felt very guy all of a sudden, but the fact that she cuddled in against me in public meant that for Vivian, something was wrong.

Micah’s hand squeezed mine and I looked up to meet his gaze. I knew that look. I sighed and hugged Vivian, putting my cheek against her hair. “What’s wrong, Vivian?”

She straightened up and started to pull away. I tightened my arm around her and made it another hug. “Its okay, Vivian, just talk to us.”

Micah said, “We are your Nimir-Raj and your Nimir-Ra, and your friends. Tell us.”

She took a breath that made her shoulders shake. She huddled around herself, and I just drew her in against me. Her arms slid around my waist, hesitating at the feeling of the gun holster, but she finished the gesture and laid her head in the hollow of my shoulder. Whatever it was had to be bad for this level of public display, because Vivian was a very private person.

“The weretigers got Gina through three full moons without her shifting. She’s still pregnant.”

I frowned and looked up at Micah. He raised eyebrows as if to say he didn’t understand, either.

“Yes, Crispin and Domino are helping Gina control her beast so she doesn’t shapeshift and lose the baby,” I said.

Vivian clung tighter to me. Her body started to tremble, just a fine shaking. I let go of Micah’s hand and put both arms around her. Her voice was small and squeezed tight as she said, “Shapeshifters can get pregnant, but we can’t keep a baby to term. The shift is too violent and we miscarry.”

“That’s why the weretigers are trying to teach some of us how to do what they’ve done for centuries, so we can help the women in our animal groups have children.” When Crispin and Domino had come to live in St. Louis, we thought we’d just gained some new willing blood donors, a new dancer for Guilty Pleasures in Crispin, and a new security person in Domino, but the tigers had spilled one of their clan’s big secrets. The weretigers were the only animal group that could breed true. They had what they called purebloods, who were born with hair and eyes the color they would be when they took tiger shape, but they didn’t shapeshift until they hit puberty. These purebloods themselves didn’t shift into a normal orange and black tiger, but their victims did, usually. I hadn’t even known that the tigers bred true until I had to go meet with them in Vegas, but no one outside the tigers had known that they could calm a woman’s beast. The men were trained from childhood to work with their mates and help them get through an entire pregnancy without shapeshifting, so they didn’t miscarry. Crispin had quieted Gina’s beast the first time without realizing that it was a big surprise to the rest of us. We were now at three months and counting; if we made one more month it would be longer than any lycanthrope female on record outside of the weretigers. The tigers were freaked out that their psychic ability worked on any other wereanimal. One of the reasons a group of them was visiting us tomorrow was to discuss the implications of Gina’s pregnancy and what her potential breeding success could do to the entire weretiger culture.

Vivian buried her head tighter against me, so her voice was muffled. “I’d accepted that Stephen and I would never have children, that we couldn’t, that I couldn’t have children.”

“We are going to get Gina through this with her baby,” Micah said, and he sounded so sure. I wasn’t that sure, because not only did Crispin or Domino have to be with her every full moon, but someone had to be able to run to her side if she called for help. It wasn’t just a full moon that could make your beast rise; strong emotion, pain, lots of things could trigger that response.

I was one of the people trying to learn how to do what Crispin and Domino did so effortlessly. I wasn’t making much progress, maybe because my beasts were trapped in my human body and I couldn’t give them animal shape. Micah was learning, though, and he was good at it. Crispin thought he’d have it down cold in a few more days. All of us who were learning how to calm Gina’s beast were on speed dial for her, so that if she felt herself starting to lose control we could come ru

The shaking got worse as Vivian clung to me. “If Gina has her baby, I want one, too.”

I laid my cheek against her hair. “Then you can be next.”

She shook her head. “Stephen doesn’t want to.”

“What?” I asked.

She raised her face from my shoulder. Her lipstick and eye shadow were smeared across that perfect skin. “He says with his background he doesn’t want children. He’s afraid he’ll be like his father.”

“Stephen could never be like his father,” I said. Stephen and his twin, Gregory, had been sexually abused by their father for most of their lives until they left home. The father kept trying to apologize to them as part of his twelve-step program. They wanted nothing to do with him, and his insistence on trying to make amends for their nightmare childhood just seemed to me to be another way of putting his need for the apology above their need to be left the fuck alone.