Micah - By Laurell K. Hamilton Page 0,10

I guess anything's an improvement." I could hear the uncertainty in his voice, though I doubted anyone else could. You had to know him really well to hear that note in his voice.

"Someone who came that close to dying is allowed to look like shit," Fox said.

I knew then that this probably had something to do with the attack that had made Micah a wereleopard. All I knew about it for certain was that it had been violent. Once someone uses the words violent and attack, you don't press for details. I'd figured he'd tell me more when he was ready.

Micah turned to me. His face was having trouble deciding what to do, and I was betting he was glad that the glasses hid his eyes. "Special Agent Fox was one of the agents who questioned me after my attack."

I hadn't known that his mauling had gotten federal attention. I couldn't think why it would have but I couldn't ask that here and now because it would be admitting too much ignorance. Also, I wasn't sure how much Micah wanted to share in the airport with people walking around us.

I covered. I can do blank pleasant cop face with the best of them. I did it now. "What are the odds that he'd be the agent in charge of this case?" I said, smiling, as if I knew exactly what we were talking about. I'd give Micah a chance to explain later, when we didn't have an audience.

"I didn't know that you were an animator," Fox said, still talking to Micah.

"I'm not." And Micah left it at that.

Fox waited for him to add more, but Micah smiled and didn't. Fox would have let it go, but Franklin didn't. Some people just can't leave well enough alone.

"Are you a vampire executioner?" Franklin asked.

Micah shook his head.

"You're not a federal marshal." And Franklin said it like he was positive.

"No, I'm not."

"Let it go, Franklin," Fox said.

"She's brought a civilian along on a federal case."

"We'll talk about this in the car," Fox said, and the look he gave Franklin stopped the taller man in midsentence.

Fox asked me, "Do we need to wait for more bags?"

"No," I said. "We're going back home tomorrow, right?"

"That's the plan," he said, but his face was not happy, as if the whole thing with Franklin was still bothering him.

"Then we're ready to go."

He actually smiled. "A woman who packs light--that's rare."

"Sexist," I said.

He gave me a nod. "Sorry, you're right. I apologize."

I smiled and shook my head. "No sweat."

He led the way out the doors, and there were two cars waiting. One had two other agents with it, and the other was empty and waiting for us.

Fox spoke over his shoulder at us. "With the new regulations, even the FBI doesn't get to leave cars parked unattended."

"Glad to hear the new rules apply to everyone," I said, more for something to say than because I cared. I wanted to look at Micah and was afraid to. Afraid if I gave him too much attention, he'd fall apart or feel like he had to explain in front of them. Of course, by not looking at him, he might think I was mad about him not sharing details. But... oh, hell.

We were pretending he was just my assistant. Holding his hand or giving him a kiss might expose that lie. Or give Franklin even more reason to think I was sleeping around. I hadn't thought about what it might mean to introduce Micah as my assistant. I guess I hadn't really thought it through at all. In my own defense, I hadn't had time to come up with a good explanation for why I needed to bring my boyfriend along. Assistant had seemed like a good idea at the time.

I did the only thing I could think of to reassure him and keep the assistant thing going: I patted him on the shoulder. It wasn't much, but he rewarded me with a smile, as if he'd known the mental gymnastics I was going through. Maybe he did.

Fox drove. Franklin rode shotgun. Micah, the briefcase, and I rode in the backseat. The other car followed us as we pulled away.

"We'll drop you at the motel," Fox began.

Micah interrupted him. "Actually, I booked us into the Four Seasons."

"Jesus," Franklin said.

"The FBI won't pick up the tab for the Four Seasons," Fox said.

"We wouldn't expect it," Micah said.

I sat there wondering why Micah had changed hotels, then realized that Fox had said motel.