I looked at Nathanial, who shrugged, but his eyes narrowed at the corners. Not that I could fault him. I wasn't thrilled with the idea of a hospital, but it was a better plan than wandering the streets. As I turned to follow Gil, Bobby made a pathetic, mewling sound. He circled his bag of clothes, then sat down and stared at me.

"I can't wait that long,” I told him.

"What does he want?” Nathanial asked.

"He can't leave the alley until he shifts back to human form."

"Why can't he leave the alley?"

I rolled my eyes, but it was Gil who said, “Do you often see bobcats wandering around the city?"

Nathanial arched a brow. “Humans see what they expect to see. He does not look so different from a large house cat. As long as people do not look too close, no one will notice."

"He weighs over thirty pounds, has tufted ears and a bobbed tail. That would garner a second glance from even the least observant."

Nathanial tapped a finger under his eye. “Why not carry him? Humans carry pets all the time."

I frowned at him. But Bobby apparently thought that was a great plan, because he brushed against my legs. Reluctantly, I lifted him under the arms, holding him as far away as possible. Bobby slapped my hand with one big paw, not breaking skin. Nathanial laughed and reached for Bobby, but it was obvious within two quick slashes that Bobby would never agree to Nathanial carrying him.

Gil wound up with Bobby balancing precariously in her arms. She staggered. Whatever she was, she didn't have the strength of a shifter or vampire.

"You know,” Nathanial said to me, a lazy smile at the tips of his mouth, “for someone who spent the better part of five years pretending to be a lost kitten, you know painfully little about pets."

"Just because I didn't want to carry ... Wait a minute.” The blood drained from my face as I stared at Nathanial. “How did you know about that?"

"Like I told the judge, I took a look inside your mind. Relax. You need to stop letting your blood rush around your body. Everytime you flush, you waste blood, and your supply is low currently."

Hiding my embarrassment, I looked away from Nathanial and focused on Bobby. “Do you think that's pathetic—a pureblood shifter passing herself around as a pet to lonely old women and children in order to survive?"

Bobby blinked his almond-shaped eyes, and I looked away. I didn't want to know the answer. I thought I was pathetic enough for both of us.

"I think it was resourceful,” Nathanial said.

"Yeah, well, you're not my kind."

"You are my kind, now."

I turned from him and headed to the street. “How do we get to the hospital?"

Nathanial pointed to a set of stairs leading underground. “I suggest the subway."

* * * *

The station smelled of decades of sweaty bodies, trash, and disgustingly enough, urine. There was only one other person on the platform with us, but he got on the next train, leaving us alone. When the trains arrived, the station was uncomfortably noisy, but in between, it was eerily silent.

Gil had hidden Bobby in his clothing bag. Judging by the slit-eyed way he regarded us through the bag's opening, I guessed he wasn't too thrilled with the situation.

Nathanial quizzed Gil about the school she attended in Sabin, but I couldn't concentrate on the conversation. How could he engage in casual chitchat, given our circumstances?

"What does any of this have to do with me?” I blurted out, and they both looked surprised to be interrupted.

Bobby continued to look disgruntled in his bag.

"What?” Nathanial asked, removing his glasses and tapping the frame against his palm.

"Why me? Why does the judge think I'm responsible for the rogue shifter?” I'd been wondering about it since we reached the subway. It wasn't just the judge who thought I'd created the rogue, the hunters from Firth were also looking for me.

Aside from the events of the last two nights, nothing unusual had happened recently, and I hadn't shifted to my mid-form since I left Firth. I kept thinking about the story I'd heard at the rave. About the “hallucination” that turned out to be deadly. Someone had shifted into mid-form in front of humans, but it wasn't me.

Gil looked away before answering. “I gathered as much information from the investigators in Sabin as I could before I left. The earliest related incident they uncovered happened about three months ago in a city named Demur."

"Demur?"

"Have you been there?"

"No.” Well, probably. The name was familiar, but that didn't make the city special. I'd been to hundreds of cities over the last few years. Admitting Demur was one of them wasn't in my best interest. “What does an incident in Demur have to do with a rogue in Haven?"

"I'm getting there.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “As I was saying, three months ago four human males were admitted to the hospital with claw marks from a very large cat. When asked to explain what happened, they said, in very unkind language, that a woman with a strange dye job had attacked them. The incident was marked as suspicious, but not closely examined. Shortly after that, the rogue's first two victims were found in Demur, then he apparently moved to Haven. According to Sabin's records, you were the only known female feline shifter outside Firth three months ago."

"A woman with a strange dye job? That doesn't prove it was me. Do you have proof any of the guys actually changed after the attack?"

Gil shrugged. “We don't know anything for certain. When our investigators tried to track the men, all the names and addresses turned up fake. We believe they falsely identified themselves at the hospital."

"So you don't even know who they really were.” I paced the edge of the platform. “If they said a woman attacked them, not a cat, then they wouldn't have turned into shifters. A human has to be attacked by a shifter in mid-form in order for the change to occur. It doesn't sound like whoever it was shifted. Maybe it was a human with really healthy nails."

"Kita, you do have claws.” Nathanial touched his shoulder.

I'd forgotten I had dug my claws into him. “But I don't shift to use them."

Gil eyed me. “How do you have claws without shifting?” Her voice held a heavy note of curiosity.

Because she's found something new for her study, or because she thinks she'll unearth my guilt? I paced faster.

"I'm a cat. I have retractable claws, even in my human form."

"Really? I would like to see that.” Gil stepped into my path, forcing me to stop. A popping sound came from the clothing bag by her feet.

I ignored the sound, frowning first at her and then at Nathanial. “I was a cat. He killed me."

Nathanial frowned. “You are not dead."

"Undead. Whatever."

Beside me, the popping sounds became more frequent as Bobby's human form slowly put itself together. I stared in disbelief. It had been maybe thirty minutes since he'd changed to his bobcat form. I hadn't thought him powerful enough to shift so often. The small bag buckled, threatening to rip around his expanding form. He slid free of the encumbering paper, landing on the platform as his bones lengthened.

"Wow, that hurt a little,” he said, once his form stabilized. He stood, human again, and totally naked.

I adverted my eyes, not confident of my expression. “Put some clothes on. The next train could be here any minute."

Thankfully, he listened to me. The sound of him digging through the bag echoed around the station.

"Kitten,” he said, his voice breathy from the exertion of the change, “if you can manifest claws in your human form, you have a powerful talent. Doesn't that prove you are worthy of your clan? Doesn't it prove your clan needs you back home?"

My head snapped up. Bobby had his pants on, but was still naked from the waist up. The tawny hair sprinkling his chest and arms stood on end, goose bumps covering his richly tanned flesh. His muscles flexed as he pulled his shirt over his head and tugged it over his abs. Nathanial touched my shoulder, and I realized I'd been staring. I cleared my throat. What had we been talking about? Right, my claws.

"You're forgetting one key problem, Bobby. I can't shift anymore."

"It might not be permanent.” He sounded pleading, like he needed to believe vampirism was temporary even more than I did.

I looked at Nathanial for confirmation. His face showed me nothing, his empty mask perfectly in place. I glanced at Gil.

She shrugged. “I don't think there are any documented cases of shifters turning into vampires. It could be an interesting subject to study."

"See, it might not be permanent,” Bobby said again.

I frowned at him. Gil hadn't indicated that at all, but Bobby heard what he wanted—he always had.

He pulled his coat on and paced a small line in front of me. “Neither of your brothers have developed the ability to unsheathe their claws while in human form. You fight against being Dyre, but the Torin knew what he was doing when he named you as his successor. Your clan needs you."

"We are getting off topic.” I hugged my arms across my chest and concentrated on a colorful bit of graffiti on the wall. “We are supposed to be proving how I couldn't be the shifter who created a rogue—or maybe rogues, plural. If we can prove I'm innocent, we can summon the judge back and get my death sentence revoked."

Gil tsk-tsked. “Oh, the judge doesn't listen to a defense once he's made a decision, and you've already bargained with him.” Her eyebrows squeezed together. Could she think hard enough to hurt herself? “Your file didn't mention you are descended from a Torin's line. That might explain some things. But if you have the ability to use your claws while in human form, couldn't you infect someone?"

Infect?

Bobby went still, his last step slamming on the platform hard enough to echo around the station. For my part, my lips twisted in a grimace I couldn't hide.