"They'll heal in a day or so."
I frowned at him. "I can't sit here for two days."
He looked away from me and went to stand beside Stephen's bed. He stared down at the sleeping man, hands clasped in front of him.
I walked over to them. I touched Irving's arm. "What aren't you telling me?"
He shook his head. "I don't know what you mean."
I turned him around, made him face me. "Talk to me, Irving."
"You aren't a shapeshifter, Anita. You aren't dating Richard anymore. You need to get out of our world, not further into it."
He looked so serious, solemn, that it scared me. "Irving, what's wrong?"
He just shook his head.
I grabbed him by both arms and resisted the urge to shake him. "What are you hiding?"
"There is a way for you to get the pack to guard Stephen and even Nathaniel."
I took a step back. "I'm listening."
"You outrank Sylvie."
"I'm not a shapeshifter, Irving. I was the new pack leader's girlfriend. I'm not even that anymore."
"You're more than that, Anita, and you know it. You've killed some of us. You kill easily and without remorse. The pack respects that."
"Gee, Irving, what a rousing endorsement."
"Do you feel badly about killing Raina? Did you lose sleep over Gabriel?"
"I killed Raina because she was trying to kill me. I killed Gabriel for the same reason, self-preservation. So no, I didn't lose any sleep."
"The pack respects you, Anita. If you could find some pack members that are already outed as shifters and convince them that you're scarier than Sylvie, they'd guard them, both of them."
"I am not scarier than Sylvie, Irving. I can't beat them to a pulp. She can."
"But you can kill them." He said it very quietly, watching my face, searching my expression.
I opened my mouth, closed it. "What are you trying to get me to do, Irving?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. Forget I said it. I shouldn't have said it. Get more cops in here and go home, Anita. Just get out of it while you can."
"What's going on, Irving? Is Sylvie a problem?"
He looked at me. His usually cheerful eyes, solemn, thoughtful. He shook his head. "I've got to go, Anita."
I grabbed his arm. "You go nowhere until you tell me what's happening."
He turned back to me slowly, reluctantly. I let go of his arm and stepped back. "Talk."
"Sylvie has challenged everyone higher in the pack than she is, and won."
I looked at him. "So?"
"Do you understand how unusual it is for a woman to fight her way to second in command. She's about five foot six, small-boned. Ask how she's winning."