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?”