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“The new vampire laws make them treat them better, more like people, but new laws don’t change how people feel. Thanks again, Brice.”

“Not a problem, just don’t call Alvarez for a couple of hours. I looked up some of your bodyguards; they’ve got backgrounds in demolition, military.”

“Do my fellow cops have files on my people?”

“Some, but I’ve been federal longer than you have. I called in a few favors, told them I just wanted to know what I was up against if things went bad. They totally bought it, Blake. I get the idea that certain people are betting when you and your people go off the reservation, not if.”

“Sleep with a few vampires and shapeshifters, and people get all weird about it,” I said.

“Yep,” he said, “gotta go.” He hung up.

I hit the button, if button is the right word for brushing your thumb across a screen. If I hadn’t had years of practice with vampires, and these vamps in particular, I might have thought that they weren’t interested in what had just happened, were bored even, but I knew that the stillness, and the pleasant faces, meant they were very interested.

I glanced at Asher, since he was in front of me, but it was Jean-Claude to whom I turned and gave major eye contact. “You heard?”

“Yes,” he said simply.

“You know I don’t normally share information about ongoing investigations.”

“You are very careful about it,” he said, and that amazing face was still pleasant, still neutral.

“I have to be if I’m going to be a cop.”

“I understand that, ma petite.” Again, that careful voice.

“I can make both of you promise, word of honor, and all that shit, to tell no one, and I know you’ll do it.”

“Word of honor, and all that shit,” he repeated, but there was a faint edge of his French accent, and that, more than anything else, let me know how upset he was; the accent came out only when he wished it to, or when he was very emotional.

I looked up at Asher, who was still standing by the bed. “You, too, blondie.”

“I will do what you and Jean-Claude wish me to do. I have caused enough problems with my childish behavior.”

“I wish you meant that,” I said.

He looked down, giving me the full weight of those pale blue eyes, through that lace of golden hair. “I mean every word I say.”

I sighed. “You do, don’t you?”

“Oui,” he said.

“You are sorry, but you also meant everything you yelled at us earlier, and you meant to hurt me so that no one else could have certain skills from me for a while.”

“Can you not forgive me?” he asked.

I waved it away. “Ask me later; right now I’m about to break a rule, one that could cost me my badge. There are people on the force who want to get rid of me for sleeping with you guys, and this could be excuse enough, but if one of these missing bombs blows up and hurts someone I care about, the job won’t mean much to me.” I thought about it for a few more seconds, but in the end I weighed love higher than my badge, and that meant that Larry and everyone else who thought sleeping with the monsters divided my loyalties were partially right. They were right, because I called Claudia, and told her to tell our security at all of our businesses to look for the damn things. There was a chance that our guards would keep the secret, and they swept for listening devices almost every damn day. They could just accidentally find the bombs when they were looking for electronic bugs. In fact, they probably would have found them, if they were there to be found, either way. But I didn’t know much about explosives. I didn’t know if searching for bugs would have made them miss bombs, I just didn’t know, and I wasn’t willing to take the chance.

Yes, I was dating too many people, and taking care of too many people. Yes, I was a little overwhelmed by it sometimes, but I was also happier than I’d ever been in my life, and I didn’t want to lose that. I didn’t want to lose anyone that I loved. If that eventually cost me my badge, so be it.

Was I a U.S. Marshal, or Jean-Claude’s human servant? Was I a Marshal, or Micah’s Nimir-Ra? Was I a police officer, or Nathaniel’s sweetie? Was I an officer, or Nicky’s master? Was I a cop, or the new Mistress of Tigers of Sin, and Dev, and Jade, and Ethan, and Crispin, and… Could I keep being a cop and be everything else?

I sat there on the edge of the bed and, for the first time, really thought the answer might be no.

40

WE DIDN’T FIND any bombs, and thanks to the wererats and some of the ex-military in both the werehyenas and wereleopards, we had people who knew what they were doing. If there had been anything to find, I trusted our people to find it. I got the official go-ahead from Dolph about three hours after Brice had called and warned us. Three hours is a long time to wait to warn people.

Dolph ended the conversation with, “I’m sorry, Anita.”

“What about?” I asked.

“That some people are more interested in the case than in keeping people safe. Some of these guys are as conflicted about the preternatural community as I was a couple of years back.” That was a lot for him to admit.

“Thanks, Dolph, that means a lot coming from you.”

“I don’t understand the whole fascination with the preternaturals, but I know my son is still happy, and I’ve never seen you happier than you are right now. The wife says you’re not supposed to understand love; if it made complete sense, it wouldn’t be love.”

“That sounds illogical and absolutely true,” I said.

“Illogical and true; sounds about right for love,” Dolph said, and he’d hung up.

By the time I knew that everyone was safe and no bombs were anywhere we had looked, dawn had come and gone by hours. I felt Jean-Claude die for the day, and knew that meant Asher had gone before him, because he wasn’t powerful enough to stay awake as long as Jean-Claude. They did better in the underground, but the sun came up and the vampires went down, that was just the way it worked. I felt Jean-Claude curl up around the other man, and knew I would find them in the bed together. I didn’t like sleeping with vampires once they went cold for the day, so I’d be bunking with Micah and Nathaniel in our room, and maybe Sin, if he was there and not in a hospital bed.

Claudia and I were walking down the midway of the Circus. This close to dawn it was closed tight. One of the things that had made it so hard to search was this section with its booths shuttered tight. There were the usual fairway games, but the stuffed toy prizes hanging from the eaves of the little shopfronts ran high to bats, black cats, Frankenstein’s monsters, and strangely cuddly mummies with the glimpses of dead skin through the fuzzy wrappings played for comedy instead of scares. There was scarier stuff from some shops: fake shrunken heads on a stick, monster eyeballs in plastic jars, and a booth that put fake scars and wounds on you. I could smell the sweetness of the cotton candy, the cinnamon of the elephant ears and bear claws booth, renamed “monster ears” and “werewolf claws,” and the funnel cakes that always smelled like your grandmother’s kitchen was supposed to smell, but never had.

I liked walking the Circus after it was closed. I think it appealed to the little girl in me who had always wondered what happened when the fair closed down. I knew now that it was just like any other job for most of the people. They cleaned up, did prep for the next day, and closed down, but when you’re little, the traveling carnival is magical, a mysterious world that you only get to visit. There’d been a time when the midway here seemed ominous; now it seemed homey. If I walked through here, it was usually after closing and I was going to bed: home.