Burnt Offerings

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Book: Read Burnt Offerings for Free Online
Authors: Laurell K. Hamilton
wereleopards."
    "That's right."
    "Sylvie's forbidden us to help the wereleopards."
    "Is Sylvie your lupa?" Questions are great, but only if you know the answers. If you ask questions and the answers surprise you, you look silly. Hard to be threatening when you look ill-informed.
    He was quiet for a second. "No."
    "Who is?"
    I heard him swallow. "You are."
    "Do I outrank her?"
    "You know you do."
    "Then get your butt down here, and do what I ask."
    "Sylvie will hurt me, lupa. She really will."
    "I'll see that she doesn't."
    "You're just Richard's human girlfriend. You can't fight Sylvie, not and live."
    "You're right, Kevin. I can't fight Sylvie, but I can kill her."
    "What do you mean?"
    "If she hurts you for helping me, I'll kill her."
    "You can't mean that."
    I sighed. "Look, Kevin, I've met Sylvie. Trust me when I say that I could point a gun at her head and pull the trigger. I can and will kill Sylvie if she forces me to. No jokes, no bluffs, no games." I listened to my voice as I said it. I sounded tired, almost bored, and so serious it was almost frightening.
    "All right, I'll do it, but if you let me down she may kill me."
    "You have my protection, Kevin, and I know what that means in the pack."
    "It means I have to acknowledge you as dominant to me," he said.
    "It also means that if anyone challenges you, I can help you fight your battles. Seems like a fair trade."
    Silence filled the phone lines again. His breathing had slowed, deepened. "Promise me you won't get me killed."
    "I can't promise that, Kevin, but I can promise that if Sylvie kills you, I'll kill her for you."
    Silence, shorter this time. "I believe you would. I'll be at the hospital in forty minutes or less."
    "Thanks, I'll be waiting."
    I hung up and made the other two calls. They both agreed to come down. I'd drawn a line in the sand with Sylvie on one side and me on the other. She wasn't going to like it, not one little bit. Couldn't blame her. If our places were reversed, I'd have been pissed. But she should have left Richard alone. Irving had said it was like Richard was wounded, like the heart had gone out of him. I'd helped put that wound there. I'd cut his heart into tiny little pieces and danced on them. Not deliberately. My intentions were good, but you know what they say about good intentions.
    I couldn't love Richard, but I could kill for him. Killing was the more practical of the two gifts. And lately I'd become very, very practical.

    6

    Sergeant Rudolph Storr showed up before the baby-sitting werewolves could arrive. I'd called him myself. He was the man in charge of the Regional Preternatural Investigation Team, RPIT, or RIP. A lot of people call us RIP, for Rest in Peace. Hey, at least they know who we are.
    Dolph is six foot eight, built like a pro-wrestler, but it isn't just physical size that makes him impressive. He'd taken a squad that had been meant as a joke to appease the liberals and made it work. RPIT had solved more preternatural crimes in the last three years than any other police unit. Including the FBI. Dolph had even been invited up to lecture at Quantico. Not bad for someone who'd been given his command as a punishment. Dolph wasn't exactly an optimist, few cops are, but give him lemons and he made damn fine lemonade.
    He closed the door behind him and stared down at me. "The doctor said my detective was in here. I just see you."
    "I never said I was a detective. I said I was with the squad. They assumed the rest."
    He shook his head. His black hair actually hid the tops of his ears. He was overdue for a hair cut. "If you were playing cop, why didn't you yell at the uniform that was supposed to be on this door?"
    I smiled up at him. "I thought I'd leave that to you. I assume he knows that he was a bad boy."
    "I took care of it," Dolph said.
    He stayed standing at the door. I stayed sitting in my chair. I'd actually managed not to pull my gun on him. I was happy about that. He was staring at me hard enough to hurt without

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