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Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“Me,” Murphy said, and Edward threw the knife.
The old man never waited around for explanations. Which was probably why he was still alive.
Without Murphy, I didn’t want to be. I threw myself in front of him, shoving him in the chest, knocking him to the ground. The knife stuck in my shoulder with a thunk.
“Ouch!” I turned to Edward, but he was glaring at Murphy, who was glaring at me.
“Dammit, Cassandra.” Murphy jumped to his feet. “You could have exploded.”
But I hadn’t. What the hell?
Without warning, Edward yanked the knife from my shoulder. I gasped at the pain but managed to grab his wrist as it descended toward Murphy.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“Diana discovered that only a knife made of black diamonds could end the life of a wereleopard.”
Edward’s voice came in fits and starts as we continued to struggle for possession of the knife. I was no longer strong enough to take it from him, and I wasn’t sure why. I wouldn’t be able to hold Edward’s wrist away from Murphy much longer.
Murphy must have sensed this, because he plucked the knife, blade first, from Edward’s hand. “Black diamonds. Those must be pretty rare.”
“Extremely so in Africa, though more common in Brazil.” The old man scowled at him. “You are not a wereleopard at all.”
“No?” Murphy tossed the gory knife into the fountain.
“You touched the blade without burning.” Edward turned his frown on me. “And you did not explode.”
“No moss on you,” Murphy muttered, but Edward ignored him to glance around the courtyard. His gaze stopped when it reached the pile of ashes. “Mezareau?”
“Yes.”
He met my eyes. “You?”
I j erked my thumb in Murphy’s direction.
“Hmph,” Edward said.
Something soft touched my back. Murphy had taken off his shirt and pressed it to my wound. Sadly, the gash wasn’t closing on its own. I was going to need stitches.
“Tell me what happened,” Edward demanded.
“She needs a doctor.”
Edward pulled out his gun and pointed it at us both. I told him everything.
“Only a wereleopard can raise the living dead.” Edward set down the gun and picked up the diamond Murphy had placed on the low stone bench surrounding the fountain. “With a little help from the stone.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And the bokor cursed you to become like him on the next full moon, which was last night.”
“That’s the rumor.”
Edward’s lips twitched. I wasn’t certain if I annoyed or amused him, but right now I didn’t care.
“However, the black diamond knife, which killed Mezareau, did nothing to you.”
“Is there a point to this?” Murphy demanded. “Wereleopard or not, she’s only got so much blood to lose.”
“I’m concerned,” the old man murmured. “Cassandra has always had more power than she realizes. That, combined with Mezareau’s knowledge and the near immortality of a shape-shifter…” He spread his hands. “I cannot allow her to walk freely in this world.”
“You’ve got nothing to say about it!”
“There you are wrong.” Edward snapped his fingers, and the courtyard filled with people. From the number of weapons I guessed they were Jäger-Suchers.
“Hold on,” I said, fighting waves of nausea, pain, and dizziness. “The knife didn’t make me go boom. I’m not healing in the blink of an eye. Let me see if I can shift.”
The sound of several rounds being chambered made me freeze. I glanced at the sea of guns. “Little jumpy?”
“You think we’ll let you shape-shift and tear out our throats?” Edward asked.
“I doubt you’ll let me do anything of the kind,” I muttered.
“But how will we stop you? Silver doesn’t work on wereleopards; the black diamond doesn’t work on you.”
“So I’m supershifter. Lucky me.”
A tall, willowy blonde shoved through the crowd. Her electric blue dress and snazzy black stilettos were both out of place and right in fashion. She carried no weapon, but then she didn’t need one.
Elise was a werewolf.
You might think it odd that the most feared werewolf hunter had a granddaughter who turned furry; I know I had. However, the story of Elise and Edward was long, involved, and not exactly pleasant.
I’d met Elise once before, during the incident with Henri. We nodded a greeting, but I wasn’t in the mood to be sociable. Blood loss from a four-inch gash in the shoulder can do that.
“She seems exactly the same as she did when I met her the first time,” Elise murmured. “If she’s evil, I can’t see it.”
“Because evil shows?” Murphy’s voice was sarcastic.
“No.” Elise flicked a glance at him, then away. “But I’ve gotten pretty good at smelling it.”
His eyes narrowed. “Who is she?”
“Dr. Hanover, meet Devon Murphy.”
“Excuse me if I don’t shake hands,” Murphy said. “I’m a little bloody.”
Elise’s blue eyes flared. “You probably want to lay off on the bloody,” she said. “It excites me.”
“Maybe I should have asked what is she?”
“Smart man,” Elise murmured, but she didn’t answer.
I would have, except Elise suddenly pressed her palm against my forehead, then closed her eyes. Since I’d seen her do this before, with Henri, I let her.
Seconds later, Elise lowered her hand and turned to Edward. “She’s clean.”
“Just like that?” he asked. “Usually there is a lot of ‘Who am I? Where am I?’ when you cure someone.”
“I didn’t have to cure her,” Elise said. “She isn’t a wereleopard. At least not anymore.”
“You’re certain?”
She glanced at me. “Go ahead and try to shift.”
Edward made an elaborate “be my guest” gesture, so I lifted my face, my arms, to the moon.
No heat, no shimmers. The moon was just a moon, and I was just a woman. I let my hands fall back to my sides and glanced at Murphy. “I changed into a leopard, right?”
“And back again.”
“OK. Just so we’re clear.” I suddenly had to sit down, so I did, on the ground at Murphy’s feet.
“That’s enough.” He knelt at my side, worry creasing his brow. “We’re going to the hospital.”
“One moment,” Edward murmured. “Elise, since when do your powers extend to anything other than werewolves?”
“I can only cure werewolves, and sometimes not even them,” she muttered. “But I still get the j olt with other shifters.” She put her fingers to her forehead in memory. “Supreme ice-cream headache.”
“And you know this how?” Edward demanded.
“I’ve been testing them.”
“Them what?” Edward’s voice had lowered, which somehow made him sound even angrier.
“You know as well as I do that there are a lot more things out there than werewolves.”
“Sadly, yes,” Edward agreed.
“I had a little time on my hands, so I thought I should check them out.”
“Dr. Frankenstein,” Murphy whispered, and Elise’s lips tightened.
I should probably tell him that Elise could hear just about anything, but I didn’t have the energy.
“What happened in between her shifting and her suddenly being unable to?” Elise asked.
“Besides the old man trying to kill me?” Murphy asked.
Elise gave a tired sigh and turned to her grandfather. “What have I said about killing first, asking questions later?”
“That it is a bad idea.” Edward lifted his nose. “But I still find it to be a good one.”
She stared at him for several seconds, and he stared right back. Eventually Elise gave up and glanced at Murphy. “If Edward tried to kill you, then why is Cassandra bleeding?”
“She stepped in front of the knife.” Murphy’s fingers tightened on my arms. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to hug me or hurt me. Probably both.
“Ultimate sacrifice,” Elise murmured, and I lifted my head.
“What?”
“I read the report from Diana. Only an ultimate sacrifice will end a voodoo curse.”
“So?”
“You were cursed, too.”
Damn. Why hadn’t I thought of that. Except—
“My life means nothing to me.”
Elise smiled gently. “But your daughter’s does.”
I froze as what she was saying became clear. Tears burned my eyes, and I turned my face into Murphy’s bare chest.
“Cassandra, what is it?” His voice shook; he seemed really scared. I just shook my head, unable to speak.
“She can’t raise her daughter now,” Elise explained. “Mezareau is dead, and the formula for the curse died with him.”
Murphy stiffened. “Hell.”
“She saved you,” Elise continued, “but the price was Sarah.”
***
