Kitty Goes to Washington

She gave an a

Got that right. But I was betting there was more to it. From what I gathered from stories, throughout history werewolves had either been vampires' servants or rivals. At best they came to uneasy truces when they lived near each other.

I had never seen what it looked like when there wasn't a truce. Sometimes I felt so ignorant. My old pack, my old alpha, hadn't taught me much about the wider world. With them, I'd learned how to cower. Then I'd learned how to take care of myself.

"What else?" I said. "What do you get out of it?"

She smiled for the first time, a thin and enigmatic expression. "My dear girl, this Senate hearing will be the first time in centuries that one of our kind—vampire or lycanthrope—has been summoned before a nation's government in any official capacity. You seem to have made yourself an authority on the subject."

I shook my head, wanting to laugh. "I've never claimed to be an authority—"

"Nevertheless, many people turn to you. And now, so is the government. And when you speak before the Senate you will, however indirectly, be speaking on my behalf as well."

I didn't want that kind of authority. I didn't want that responsibility. Before I could deny it, she continued.

"I've brought you here to take the measure of you. To learn whose interests you serve. Whose interests you will be serving when you speak before the Senate committee."

Which web of political entanglements was I caught up in, she meant. She wanted to know who was pulling my strings, because in her world, everybody had strings.

She wasn't going to believe me when I told her.

"I serve my own interests," I said. "I left my pack. I don't have any other associations. I'm not sure I have friends anymore. There's just me. And my show. Ratings and the bottom line. That's it."

I was sure she didn't believe me. She narrowed her gaze, maintaining a vaguely amused demeanor. Like she didn't care what I said, because she'd figure out the truth eventually. She had time.

"I suppose," she said finally, "that makes you less corruptible than many. True capitalists are extraordinarily predictable. But I've listened to your show, and there's more to you than that."

"If you've listened to my show, then you know me. Because that's all it is. I parlayed my big mouth into a career. That's all."

"You may very well be right."

I looked away, because her gaze was on me, searching, looking for the layers to peel back. Legends said vampires could entrance you with the power of their gazes. That was how they lured their prey to them, and why some people were all too happy to bare their necks and veins to them.

I wasn't tied to anyone. I wanted to keep it that way. She said, "If you are right, and there is nothing more to you than what I see before me, then I would be honored if you would accept my hospitality, which is, if I may be so bold, some of the finest in the city."

I would. I knew I would, probably the whole time I'd been here. Maybe because the room was nice and comfortable, and as intimidating as she was, she didn't make my hairs stand on end. Her use of the word hospitality seemed to have an Old World meaning behind it: it was more than offering a meal and bed for the night. It was a mark of pride and honor. It was an insult to refuse.

"Thank you," I said, striving for politeness though I felt ragged beside her.

Alette stood. Automatically, I stood with her, smoothing out my jeans and wondering if I should buy some nicer clothes while I was here.

"Welcome to Washington," she said and offered her hand, which I shook, a normal gesture that I accepted gratefully, even if her skin was too cold. "I've set aside a room on the second floor for you. I do hope you like it. Emma will show you to it. The kitchen is also entirely at your disposal. Tell Emma anything you need and she'll take care of it." A young woman, Emma I presumed, had appeared, called by some signal known only to her and Alette. She was fully human, bright-eyed and eager. Old World hospitality indeed. Alette had maids. "My only request, Kitty, is that you tell me if you plan to leave the house for any reason. I have offered you my protection and I will see the offer through."

That almost sounded like a challenge: could I get out of here without her knowing? What would she do if I tried?

And what if there really were ravening werewolves waiting to find me alone? That was a tough call.

"All right," I said noncommittally, and Alette gave me a skeptical look.

"If you'll excuse me, I have other business. Good evening to you."

She left Emma and me at the foot of a set of narrow, curving stairs outside the parlor.

"This way," Emma said, smiling, and gestured up.

Sometimes human servants were vampires in training, waiting for their masters to initiate them into true undeadness. Sometimes they were simply servants, although their brand of service usually involved a bit more than dusting the furniture. I looked around the collar of her blouse for telltale scars, signs of old bite marks. I didn't see any, but that didn't mean they weren't there, somewhere.

We reached the top of the stairs and entered a narrow hallway. More framed photographs and portraits decorated the walls. They represented different times, different eras; the hair, clothing, and demeanors of the people changed from portrait to portrait as we continued. Did Alette have some kind of obsession with collecting these images?

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," Emma said. She was probably about nineteen. Hell, she might have been working her way through college.

I had to ask. "Do you know what she is?"

She smiled wryly and ducked her gaze. "My family's worked for her for generations. We followed her here from England two hundred years ago. She's been good to us." She opened a door at the end of the hall, then looked at me. "You know better than anybody, they aren't all bad."

I couldn't argue.

My duffel bag had already been brought up to the bedroom. The suite included a full bathroom, with brass handles on the sink and shower. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea. I might even get spoiled. Emma showed me an intercom by the door, a modern amenity in the antique house. "Just ring if you need anything."

I asked for a sandwich. Then sleep. Sleep was good. Sleeping meant I wasn't wondering where the rest of Alette's vampire clan was hanging out, because human minions could only do so much and I was pretty sure she didn't rule her empire all by herself.

Chapter 3

Alette wanted me to tell her if I pla

So I left a note. I scribbled it on a piece of notebook paper and lay it on the coffee table in the parlor.

It wasn't completely honest of me. Tom and Bradley were probably on call. Alette probably meant for me to tell one of them. I could have gotten a private chauffeured tour of the city—nice, protected, safe.

I'd put my hand on the knob of the front door when I heard footsteps trotting down the stairs behind me.

"Miss Norville!" It was Emma, her brown hair pi

I took a guilty step away from the door. "Call me Kitty. I, ah, just wanted to look outside to see what the weather was like." She wasn't going to buy that. I had my backpack hitched over my shoulder. "Alette puts you to work on Sunday, does she?"