I shrugged. "It doesn't matter; the chance of having a shifter-trained dog is almost nil. It's a seriously specialized training."
"Why?" Newman asked.
I was already tired of him asking that. "Because, Newman, shapeshifters, even the nice legal citizens, don't like training dogs designed to be able to hunt them down so people can kill them on sight."
Newman blinked at me. "I don't understand."
I was tired of it, and him. "I know you don't."
"Explain it to me, then."
"I don't think I can. Some things you just have to learn in the field."
"I'm a fast learner," he said, and he sounded a little defiant.
"I hope so, Newman, I really hope so."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Great, I'd behaved myself and he was still getting upset with me. "It means that I had to watch last night while this shifter tortured and sliced up Marshal Karlton. He used her as a human shield so I couldn't shoot him, and then he moved faster than any shapeshifter I've ever seen. All I could do was hold pressure on her wounds and try to keep her from bleeding to death and pray that moving her so I could keep her from bleeding out hadn't just injured her spine and crippled her for life. It didn't, thank God, but I didn't know that last night, and a whole spine does no damn good if you bleed to death first." I was up in his face as I finished, and though the closest to glaring into his face I could get was the middle of his chest, he flinched and backed away from me.
I just turned and walked away. My anger crawled over me and through me. The beasts in their hidden place inside me swirled so that I had a moment where things twisted, a hint of the claws to come pawing at my gut. It made me hesitate as I walked.
Edward called, "You okay?"
"Sure, yeah, fine." I kept walking, but I needed to feed the ardeur. I probably needed to feed before we started tracking the shapeshifter, but since the dog wasn't going to track it, I had time. I also had an idea. I'd go visit the local weretigers and see if they'd tell me things they wouldn't tell the other marshals. They probably would, and I knew one of them would. Alex was the son of the local clan queen, my lover, and my red tiger to call. I'd tell the other marshals I was trying to gather information, and I would, but it was a booty call. A booty call to keep me from being torn apart by my beasts.
RABORN STOPPED US on the way to the car. "Where are you two going?"