Using he as the pronoun is probably accurate, but, you’re right, I don’t know that it’s a he. Though female serial killers are more likely to use poison or a gun; a blade is more typical of male serial killers. Whoever is killing these victims is sure of his skill with a blade, and that he has the strength to get the job done before the weretiger can fight back. That level of physical confidence is usually male, rather than female.”

He looked at me, but there was a touch less hostility in his face. “That’s true.”

“You seem surprised that I knew that,” I said.

He settled back in his chair and looked at me, but now it was an appraising look. “I’d been told that the only reason you have more executions than anyone else in the preternatural branch is that you’re fucking the monsters, so they talk to you, but maybe that’s not all of it.”

I gave him an unfriendly look, and then it seemed too much trouble. I leaned forward in the chair. “Look, Raborn, if I were living with a group of men and having sex with all of them, and everyone were human, the other cops would still hate it, or they’d see me as a slut. But my live-in sweeties are vampires and shapeshifters, so the other cops really don’t like my choice in boyfriends. I accept that, because there’s nothing I can do about it, but I want to stop these killers. I don’t want to see any more of these bodies. I want to go home to my sweeties, and stop seeing cut-up bodies in my dreams.”

He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, once you start seeing the bodies in your dreams, it’s a bitch.”

“Trust me, Raborn, I’m motivated to solve these crimes.”

He looked at me then, and let me see that he was tired, too. “I believe you want to go home, but how can I trust a marshal who’s shacking up with the master vampire of her city?”

“It’s illegal to discriminate against me because of who I’m dating.”