“What happened to the boy?” I asked.

“We’re not going to worry about it right now,” Doolittle said. “I’m going to ask some private questions. Would you like Raphael to stay or to go? Say the word and I will throw him out.”

Raphael bared his teeth.

“He can stay,” I said.

“Was there physical abuse in your childhood, Andrea?” Doolittle asked gently.

I swallowed. “Yes.”

“Over some period of some time?”

“Eleven years.”

Doolittle took my hand and squeezed a little. “Your bones heal very rapidly under stress. The body joins them as fast as it can without any regard for whether or not they are aligned. It’s simply trying to make you operational again.”

I looked at my shoulder. It didn’t feel quite right. “You have to rebreak my arm.”

“I’m so sorry,” Doolittle said. “The arm is crooked. Try raising it all the way.”

I lifted my arm. Sharp pain shot through my shoulder right in the center of the bone.

“The longer we delay, the harder it will be to set it right,” Doolittle said.

A female shapeshifter wheeled in a cart filled with instruments.

“You’re going to use a mallet?” I asked. In my head Doolittle put a crowbar over my shoulder and hit it with a hammer.

“No. I’ll use a narrow power saw. You will have to be sedated. I promise you’ll feel nothing.”

“Okay.” What else was there to say?

The waters of the Nile lapped at my ankles. I strode out of the tepid water onto the shore. The wind brought the razor-sharp stench of blood. A fresh kill waited somewhere nearby.

The dark green bushes rustled. The Jackal walked out, dragging a dead bull by its neck. The Jackal had grown larger since we had last met. It was taller than a horse now, with a massive head and amber eyes the size of dessert plates.

The Jackal dropped the bull in front of me. “Eat.”

“No.” Food held significance to shapeshifters. Lovers gave it to each other and alphas gave it to their clans. An offer of food was sometimes a declaration of love, but more often an offer of protection in exchange for loyalty, and I wouldn’t be accepting any handouts from him.

“Suit yourself.” The Jackal bit the bull’s soft belly.

“We’re helping you. Why not let the child go?”

The Jackal raised its bloody snout from the kill. “Why would I surrender my hostage? She has served me so well.”

I sat in the grass. The sun was setting again and the still waters shimmered with faint vapor. The wet sloppy sounds of the large predator eating behind me ruined the beauty of the landscape.

“Why do you do this?” I asked finally.

“Mmm?”