Chapter Thirty

Sullivan frowned. “It’d have to be one helluva big kitty.”

“When I say ‘cat,’ I don’t mean domestic,” Diana said.

“We’ve got bobcats, but not in the French Quarter.”

“Looks like you do now.”

“Can rabies pass between a wolf and a bobcat?”

“Rabies can pass between anything.” The glance Diana shot my way was concerned, and I couldn’t say I blamed her. If I hadn’t been trying to keep from hyperventilating since she’d said the word cat I’d have been more concerned myself. “Haven’t you ever heard of a raccoon infecting a dog?”

Sullivan cursed and stormed off, presumably to notify his superiors that they still had a rabies problem. If Edward hadn’t had to return for the raising of the voodoo queen, he’d have to return to kill whatever it was that had killed this woman. I could only hope it wasn’t me.

Diana was already striding away, a cell phone attached to her ear. With a last glance at the body, I hurried after.

“Can lycanthropy pass between one species and another?” she asked, lowering her voice.

Obviously she was talking to Edward. Who else?

She glanced at me and shook her head. Guess not.

“We’ve got a problem,” she continued. “Seems to be a big cat. You’ll be getting a phone call shortly.” She listened, then snapped, “I am not going to shoot the body with silver before God and everyone, Edward.

That’s the quickest way to j ail or a nuthouse.”

She paused once more. “OK, fine. See you then.” She hung up.

“What did he say?” I asked. Though a lot of it I could guess.

“Since lycanthropy by definition refers to a werewolf, he’s never heard of it being passed between species. However, that may just be because werewolves like to bite people.”

“And he wanted you to shoot the body with silver, just to be sure.”

“Doesn’t he always?”

Dumb question.

“If this isn’t a werewolf, will silver work?”

Diana’s expression became contemplative. “Interesting theory. Edward can figure it out when he gets here.”

“Which will be… ?”

“He’s going to make some calls, talk to Elise, then come on down.”

“From?”

“Montana.”

Which meant he’d probably arrive by tomorrow. I’d better figure out what was going on.

“You think we’re dealing with a bobcat?” I asked.

“No.”

I cast her a sharp look. “But you said—”

“I said it was cat poop. Sullivan said there are bobcats in the area.”

“But you don’t think this was one of them?”

“I’m not an expert on large felines, but that seemed like the dung of a much bigger kitty than a bobcat.

Say a leopard?”

I winced.

“Something you want to tell me, Cassandra?”

“I have no idea what.” My voice sounded as nonchalant as I wanted it to. God, I was good. But Diana wasn’t bad. She grabbed my elbow.

“You go to Haiti to meet with an evil sorcerer. One who has the power to bring the dead back to life, who can make a waterfall appear and disappear, a man who lives in a jungle where there hasn’t been a jungle for a very long time, and this man is a member of an ancient, secret group called the leopard society.”

“So?”

“Did you ever see him shape-shift?”

“No.” Of course that didn’t mean he hadn’t Still—”Mezareau is dead.”

“You’re certain of that?”

“Reasonably.” Murphy had been the one doing the checking. “I stabbed him in the heart with a silver knife. That usually works.”

“Did he explode?”

“No.” I lifted my chin. “So he couldn’t have been a shape-shifter.”

“You pointed out only a few moments ago that what works for a werewolf might not work for a leopard.”

Shit. Why did I have to be so damn smart?

“And even if he is dead,” Diana continued, “there’s something else to consider. The Egbo is a secret society . Definition: more than one.”

My eyes widened. “You’re saying there might be a pack of leopards wandering around New Orleans?”

“Wouldn’t that be wereleopards?”

“Whatever, Diana.” I threw up my hands. “I cannot believe we’re discussing wereleopards.”

“But werewolves, no problem?”

“I believed in them before you did,” I pointed out. “But even Edward said he hadn’t heard of other shape-shifters.”

“No, he said he hadn’t heard of lycanthropy being passed between species. There are more things on this earth than we know. Remember Mrs. Favreau?”

Mrs. Favreau had been a sweet little old lady we’d met while trying to find the loup-garou. Sadly, the loup-garou had found her, but not before she’d given us quite a bit of information.

“She told us that the wolf creates the werewolf. Other animals create other monsters.”

Mrs. Favreau had said that. I hadn’t been any happier to hear it then than I was now.

“Fine. So there could be wereleopards, but why would they be here?”

“Good question. Is there something in New Orleans that they might want?”

“People?”

“There are people everywhere,” Diana said, “and a lot more in Haiti than Louisiana. I’d think wereleopards would want to stay where there were other leopards, so as not to stand out.”

“There aren’t any leopards in Haiti. Never have been. Just like there have never been any timber wolves in Louisiana, but that didn’t stop the loup-garou. Right there in the swamp he was.”

“That was a curse.” Diana bit her lip. “But if the leopards appeared because of a curse, too, that probably had something to do with the leopard society. Which originated in Africa, where mere are leopards.”

“OK.”

“And that would explain why leopards showed up in Haiti, or even here.”

She’d lost me. “Why?”

“Because the Egbo is here, or at least one of them.”

“Why?” I repeated.

“Could they be after you?”

“Looks like they were after her.” I j erked my thumb over my back in the direction of the crime scene.

“That was just food, or maybe companionship, if she rises.”

The very idea made me twitchy. “We should probably do something about that.”

Diana cast me a quick, wry glance and began to walk. “What do you suggest?”

“Hell, I don’t know.”

“Exactly. Let Edward handle it, and let’s get back to the problem at hand.”

“Which is?”

“What possible reason could the Egbo have for following you? What do you have that they want?”

I couldn’t think of anything I’d taken from Haiti but knowledge.

And the diamond.