"We are the lukoi. Anita knows that."
"You shared our words with her?" Neal said, outrage thick in his voice.
I wanted to say that it was just words, but I didn't. Who says I'm not getting smarter?
"There was a time when sharing our secrets with normals could get you a death sentence," Sylvie said.
"Even Marcus doesn't allow that anymore."
"How much of our secrets do you know, human?"
I shrugged. "A few words, that's all."
Sylvie stared at me. "You want your human girlfriend to cuddle up next to you, is that it, Richard?"
"Yes," he said. There was no trace of anger in his voice.
Personally, I didn't like the way she'd said "human."
Sylvie knelt on the couch, staring at me. "Come human, sit with us."
I stared at her. "Why the change of heart?"
"Not everything has to do with the pack hierarchy. That's what Richard is always telling us. Sit by your lover. I'll scoot over." She did, curling up on the couch, near Rafael.
The Rat King glanced at me. He raised an eyebrow, almost a shrug. I didn't trust Sylvie, but I trusted Rafael, and I trusted Richard, at least here, today. I realized that I would have trusted Rafael last night. He wouldn't have the moral qualms that Richard had. Poor Richard was like a lone voice crying in the wilderness. God help me, I agreed with the pagans.
Louie and Stephen were curled on the floor, close by. I was among friends. Even Jason, grinning up at me, wouldn't let me get hurt. Jason was Jean-Claude's wolf to call, as was Stephen. I think if they let me get killed, they might not survive much longer than I did.
"Anita?" Richard made it a question.
I sighed and pushed away from the wall. I was among friends, so why were the muscles in my back so tight it hurt to move? Paranoid? Who me?
I walked around the couch, coffee mug in my left hand. Sylvie patted the couch, smiling, but not like she meant it.
I sat beside Richard. His arm slid over my shoulders. My right arm was pressed against his side, not too tightly. He knew how much I hated having my gun hand impeded.
Leaning into the warmth of his body, I relaxed. The tightness in my shoulders eased. I took a sip of coffee. We were all being terribly civilized.
Richard put his lips against my face, and whispered, "Thank you."
Those two words earned him a lot of brownie points. He knew what it had cost me to sit down among the wolves, rats, and cats. Not sitting with him would have undermined him in front of the pack and the other leaders. I wasn't here to make the situation worse.
"Who saved you last night, Stephen?" Sylvie asked. Her voice was sweet, face pleasant. I didn't trust her at all.
Every eye turned to Stephen. He tried to huddle into the floor, as if he could go invisible, but it didn't work. He stared at Richard, eyes wide.
"Go ahead, Stephen, tell the truth. I won't be mad."
Stephen swallowed. "Anita saved me."
"Richard was fighting about twenty lycanthropes at the time," I said. "He told me to get Stephen, so I did."
Neal sniffed Stephen, running his nose just above the other man's face and neck, down his shoulder. It wasn't a human gesture, and it was unnerving in the well-dressed man. "He has her scent on his skin." Neal glared at me. "He's been with her."
I expected an outcry, but instead, the others crowded around Stephen, sniffing his skin, touching him, and bringing their fingers close to their own faces. Only Sylvie, Jason, Rafael, and Louie stayed sitting. One by one, the rest turned to Richard and me.
"He's right," Christine said. "Her scent clings to his skin. You don't get that much scent just by carrying someone."