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"That goes without saying, doesn't it? I mean, killing a body stops most things."
He raised his glass in salute of my point. "However, the bakeneko is not most things. She is now a creature of magic, and that magic not only gives her the ability to remold her form, but also provides extreme speed and power. She will not be an easy kill."
Few bad things were. "Do we need to kill her any specific way?"
"Cutting off her head should work." He took another sip of wine. "If the spirit is caught in dead flesh, it will leave this world and never return."
"So the spirit itself is never actually killed?"
He shook his head. "But she cannot inhabit the flesh of another. With her body gone, she must move on."
Well, at least that was something. I gulped down some coffee, discovering it was as delicious as the rest of the feast. "No souls have been present at the murder scene, and we have a witness who swears he saw the creature sucking at a victim's mouth. I think she's ingesting the souls - is that possible?"
"Very possible, especially if her attacks are escalating." He took a sip of wine, then added, "Every soul she consumes strengthens her, but it also fuels her anger and madness. That's another reason to be very careful."
"Do bakenekos live on souls?" I shuddered at the thought.
"'Live' is perhaps the wrong word. They don't need souls to survive, even if it does strengthen them. They simply enjoy the pain and the suffering of ripping a soul from its dying body."
"So it's all part of the ultimate vengeance?"
"Yes."
"Then I guess it's a good thing we're rounding up the remaining Trollops." I popped a strawberry in my mouth and munched on it. "I have a list of fourteen names - would that be all of them?"
"I only know of fourteen, so yes, more than likely. I could check the list if you want."
I smiled at his tone. "You really don't like them, do you?"
"It would be more accurate to say that I don't like the dishonesty of what they do." He contemplated me for a moment, dark eyes suddenly serious. "You know my feelings about werewolves and their sexual beliefs, but at least werewolves are honest about their needs. There are never any lies or half-truths, and that I can admire."
I sighed and put down my burger. The time had come for the discussion we'd both been avoiding. "You can't change what I am, Quinn. Can't change the way I am."
He put his wine on the side table and sat up a little straighter. The sheet slipped down his stomach and pooled around the top of his thighs, revealing tantalizing glimpses of short, dark hair.
"I learned that particular lesson the hard way. And the months we have been apart were - " He hesitated, and looked at me. In the ebony depths was an echo of the bleak loneliness I'd seen earlier. "Hard."
"It didn't have to be that way, you know."
He gave me a lopsided smile that had my heart doing odd little flip-flops. "I know. But as you've noted on a number of occasions, I am a very old vampire who likes to get his way."
"Trying to change the very essence of what I am was way out of line."
"I know, and I have had more than enough time alone to regret it, believe me." He shrugged one shoulder. "I did what I thought was best for us. I wanted a chance, Riley, and you didn't seem to be giving me one."
"I was giving you as many chances as Kellen. I saw him no more than you. You were the one playing games. You were the one who kept on pushing and pushing and pushing."
"And you were the one who refused to consider that a soul mate might be anything other than a werewolf," he snapped back, the slightest touch of anger in his voice.
There was nothing I could say to that, because the accusation was true. Finding my wolf soul mate was a dream I'd lived for for as long as I could remember, and it wasn't one that I could give up easily - even now, when much of that dream had already been shattered to dust and blown away by fate.
He sighed, and it was a sound of frustration. "I can't let it end here, Riley. There's just too much that's good between us."
I picked up my coffee, cradling it between my hands and letting it warm my fingers. "Do you remember Dia?"
He frowned. "The clone? The one whose baby we rescued?"
"Yes. She once asked me a very interesting question."
