knew enough about the way the system worked to know that for those of us who weren't exactly human, sometimes innocence didn't matter much.
"Can anyone else verify these times?" Zerbrowski asked.
"A few people, yeah," I said.
"A few people," Dolph said. He looked disgusted, and I didn't understand this emotion either. "You don't even know who the father is, do you?"
That made me give him a deer in headlights blink. "I don't know what you mean."
He gave me a look, as if I'd already lied to him. "Detective Reynolds told us her little secret."
I looked at him across the table. He was still leaning over, and I was still standing, so we were almost eye-to-eye. "So?"
He gave a sound between a snort and a cough. "She wasn't the only one who passed out at the murder scene, and she wasn't the only one who threw up." He looked as if he'd made a great point, driven it home with a surgeon's precision.
I frowned and blinked at him. "I'm sorry, what are you talking about?" I let myself look as confused as I felt.
"Don't be coy, Anita, you're not good at it."
"I'm not being coy, Dolph, you're making no fucking sense." Then an idea popped into my head, but that couldn't be it. Dolph wouldn't think . . .
I looked at him, and thought, maybe he would think that. "Are you implying that I'mpregnant?"
"Implying, no."
I relaxed a little. I shouldn't have.
"I'm asking, do you know who the father is, or have there been too many to guess?"
Zerbrowski stood, and he was close enough to Dolph that it forced him to move a little way from the table. "I think you should go now, Anita," Zerbrowski said.
Dolph was glaring at me. I should have been angry, but I was too surprised. "I've thrown up at murder scenes before."
Zerbrowski moved a little back from the table. He had a resigned look on his face, like someone who saw the train coming down the track and knew nobody was going to get off in time. I still didn't think things were that bad.
"You've never passed out before," Dolph said.
"I was sick, Dolph, too sick to drive myself."
"You seem fine now," he said, voice low and rumbling, filled with that anger that seemed always just below the surface lately.
I shrugged. "I guess it was just one of those viruses."
"It wouldn't have anything to do with the fang mark on your neck would it?"
My hand went up to it, then I forced myself not to touch it. Truthfully, I'd forgotten about it. "I was sick, Dolph, even I get sick."
"Have you been tested for Vlad's syndrome, yet?"
I took in a deep breath, let it out, then said, fuck it. Dolph wasn't going to let this one go. He wanted to fight. I could do that. Hell, a nice uncomplicated screaming match sounded almost appealing.
"I'll say this once, I'm not pregnant. I don't care if you believe me, because you're not my father, you're not my uncle, brother, or anything. You were my friend, but even that's up for grabs right now."
"You're either one of us, or you're one of them, Anita."
"One of what?" I asked. I was pretty sure of the answer, but I needed to hear it out loud.
"Monster," he said, and it was almost a whisper.
"Are you calling me a monster?" I wasn't whispering, but my voice was low and careful.
"I'm saying you're going to have to choose whether you're one of them, or one of us." He pointed to Jason when he said them.
"You join Humans against Vampires, or some other right wing group, Dolph?"
"No, but I'm beginning to agree with them."
"The only good vampire is a dead one, is that it?"
"They are dead, Anita." He took that step closer, that Zerbrowski's moving had given him. "They are fucking corpses that don't have enough sense to stay in their godforsaken graves."
"According to the law, they're living beings with rights and protection under the law."
"Maybe the law was wrong on this one."
Part of me wanted to say, you know that this is being recorded? part of me was glad he'd said it. If he came off sounding like a bigoted crazy then it would help keep Jason safe. The fact that it wouldn't help Dolph's career did bother me, but not enough to sacrifice Jason. I'd like to save all my friends, but if someone is bent on self-destruction, there is only so much you can do. You can't shovel other people's shit for them,