“And forty years ago humans believed it was a fact that there were no vampires or pixies. What about fairy tales?” I said. “In the old ones, a bite could make a Were. Well, they’re true, and the proof is that you will find those women in the human database.”

But Glenn’s face said he wasn’t buying it.

Head drooping, I said to the floor, “See, there’s this demon-cursed statue.” God, it sounds so lame. “I gave it to David to hold for me because he’s a Were and Jenks said it was giving him a headache. It’s bad magic, Glenn. Whoever has it has the ability to turn a human into a Were. The Weres want it, and the vamps will kill anyone to destroy it to maintain the balance of Inderland power.” I brought my gaze up, and though he was listening, I could tell he wasn’t ready to give up his secure belief. “I had assumed there was some sort of additional ritual needed to turn a human.” Feeling guilty, I touched David’s arm. “Apparently not.”

“You bit them?” Glenn accused.

“I slept with them.” David’s voice had a defensive edge. “I have to go. I have to call Serena and Kally.”

Glenn’s hand fell to rest on the butt of his weapon. I would have taken offense, but I didn’t think he realized it.

“Look,” I said, exasperated, “remember this May when the riots broke out in the mall between the vamps and the Weres?” Glenn nodded, and I scooted to the front of my chair, not liking his hand on his weapon. “Well, it was because three Were packs thought I had this Were artifact and they were trying to flush me out.”

His eyes widened. He was starting to believe.

“And if it gets out that it didn’t go over the Mackinac Bridge but is in Cincinnati turning women into Weres, I’m going to be a dead witch walking.” I hesitated. “Again.”

The FIB officer exhaled long and slow, but I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “That’s why Mr. Ray’s secretary was murdered, isn’t it?” he said, gesturing behind him to the drawers.

“Probably,” I said in a small voice. “But David didn’t do it.” Damn it. Denon was right. Her demise was sort of my fault. Miserable, I pulled my gaze from the drawer. It landed on David, slumped and struggling to come to grips with the deaths of three women. If this got out, we both were dead. My attention rose to Glenn.

“You’re not going to tell anyone, right?” I asked. “You have to keep this quiet. Tell the next of kin they died in an accident.”