the touch," Nicky said, and his voice sounded strangled, as if he were fighting off his own growl.
"I can feel the energy," Jacob said.
Bennington stood up, got close to me, trusting Nicky to keep me from hurting him. Nicky tightened his arms around my body, pinning my arms to my sides. He held on tight enough that it was almost hard to breathe. "You wanted to know what our plan is for us to go back to our lives; well, you will use the energy of a human sacrifice to raise Ilsa from the dead. It will be enough energy to make her beautiful forever, mine forever. And once you use murder to raise the dead, you can't tell on us without risking the death penalty yourself."
I found my voice. "That's the errand that Silas is supposed to finish, isn't it?"
Nicky tightened his grip until it dug my empty holster into my body, and it began to truly hurt, but I didn't mind; the pain helped me think. It helped me not give in to the snarling lion inside me. If we killed Bennington, the second half of their money was gone. And they were professionals. I didn't think they'd kill us for free. It was a plan, and besides, we wanted him dead. It's hard to fight the inner beast when you agree with it.
The lioness charged out of that long metaphysical or metaphorical grass, and began to run full out up that path inside me. She was a golden blur, moving through me.
"Fight it," Nicky said in my ear.
I glared at Bennington. "Why?"
Jacob was in front of me, blocking my view of Bennington. "Because if you shift, you can't raise the dead and you're no good to us. Don't make us kill you, Anita."
Nicky spoke through gritted teeth as if it were beginning to be an effort to hold me. "Don't make us kill your men."
"Look at me, Anita!"
But all I could see was that blur of gold, and for the first time I didn't want to put a wall between her and me. For the first time I needed the help, and I would take it.
Jacob grabbed my face, forced me to look at him, but he also touched bare skin to bare skin. I snarled up at him, and the golden blur slowed. Slowed and screamed through me, so that my body vibrated with the sound of her rage, her need, her hunger.
"God, she smells good," Nicky said.
"Don't you start," Jacob said, but he was still touching my face, and the look in his eyes was uncertain, as if he were listening to things I couldn't hear. His lion was talking to him, too. Would it help me to force them to change?
Jacob said, "Get out, Bennington, get out until we call you. She's not safe."
The lioness screamed again, and the sound came out of my throat. It hurt, as if the sound needed a bigger throat, a different mouth, and it rubbed raw things that should never have held the sound.
Jacob had a look on his face, a lost look. "Maybe you can bring our beasts, but if you do we'll fall on each other and either fight over you, or both fuck you. Either way we might not hear the other phone calls. We might miss calling off our shooters on your other men. They might kill them not because we want them to, but because we missed the call."
Nicky breathed against my hair, "Put your beast in the deep freeze, Anita, please." He was holding me tight enough that I knew his body was happy to be pressed against mine. He meant the please.
My skin felt so hot, but it didn't feel bad like a fever; it felt wonderful. Part of me wondered what it might be like to finally give in and shift, but not today. I couldn't afford to think that today.
Jacob's phone started ringing as if on cue. He looked at me. "I have to get this, and you have to regain your control." He kept his grip on my face, but used his other hand to get his phone out of his pocket.
He watched my face like he'd memorize it, but spoke: "Stand down, just follow and observe." He started to put the phone away, but it rang again. "Yeah, no, just observe, just follow. Stand down until further orders."
I realized that was three calls. All of them were safe unless Jacob called back and told them to shoot