Kitty Raises Hell

I crossed my arms and waited for an answer.

“We go to Vegas,” Shaun said. He was fidgeting, just a little. Hands picking at the seams on his jeans, eyes darting, unable to look right at me. It made me think this was all Mick’s idea. “Go to the source. Take care of that pack directly.”

“Did you two come out here to tag-team me or what?” I said.

Shaun looked away at that, because I was right. Mick didn’t. He said, “Well? How about it?”

“I thought of going back to Vegas. Did you consider that they may want us to do exactly that? That it’s a trap? This is a cult that sacrifices werewolves. I don’t want any of us going within a hundred miles of there.”

Mick started in with more confidence, still staring at me like this was a challenge. “Then we hire someone to go there for us. Or we call the police.”

“And prove to the cops what’s happening, how?”

“I don’t know—you think of something, you know so much.”

“What, you don’t like my icky blood spell?” I dipped my finger into the mixture and pointed it at him. Maybe I could obnoxious him into submission.

“I’m worried, Kitty. I’m worried that you can’t handle this,” Mick said.

“You think someone else could handle it better?”

“I think if it wasn’t for you, this wouldn’t be happening.”

Ben, who had been standing behind my shoulder the whole time, studying the pair of them, sprang. Surprised the hell out of me. Out of all of us. Ben grabbed Mick’s T-shirt at the shoulders, wrapped it in his fists, spun him around, and shoved him to the brick wall of the building. Held them there. It was over before I could blink.

Ben’s teeth were bared. Mick’s eyes were wide, his feet working to try and scramble away. All his bravado vanished. Now he was scared. Ben was close enough—and seemed angry enough—to take a bite out of him.

I stared. “Wow. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Neither did I,” Ben said, his voice hoarse. His expression was taut, his whole body tense, and his wolf glared out of his eyes. He gave Mick one last shove, then stepped away, rolling his shoulders back, shivering almost. His breathing slowed. Mick backed away to stand next to Shaun.

I moved to Ben and squeezed his hand. Come back to me, I thought at him. I wanted him to be human, not wolf, right now. I wanted to work this out as human beings.

“I was really hoping we could have a pack where this sort of thing wouldn’t happen,” I said, sighing. New Moon was supposed to be the symbol of that. Peaceful cooperation. It was damaged, and look what happened.

“I’m sorry,” Mick said, not meeting my gaze, only glancing warily at Ben. “I didn’t mean for this to look like a challenge. But I’m worried.”

“Yeah,” I admitted, my voice soft. “But we’re working on it. We’ll figure this out. Tell everyone we’ll figure this out.”

Again, they glanced at each other. My hunch had been correct. They’d been talking to everyone in the pack. They, the toughest nonalpha males, had been appointed spokeswolves. And now they were backing down. Maybe I could do this job.

Shaun said, “How did you know we’ve been talking?”

“Female intuition,” I said. “I have to go meet with some paranormal investigators about this whole brouhaha. Will you guys be okay if I leave you alone?”

“Paranormal investigators?” Shaun said. Finally, he was smiling, at least a little. “So you really are working on this.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“We’ll be fine,” Ben said. I was confident he was right.

Ben walked me to my car.

“You okay?” I asked. I didn’t know how close we’d come to a fight back there. I didn’t really want to know. Ben was still tense.

“Yeah. It just came out of nowhere. I just couldn’t let them talk anymore. Or the wolf side couldn’t. Hard to explain.”

“Well, thanks,” I said. “I’m sure they’ll go back and tell everyone you’re way tougher than you look. They’ll be absolutely cringing around you from now on.”

“Fu

I gri

We exchanged a kiss—a warm, comfortable, all’s-well-with-the-world kiss—before I zoomed off to my next appointment.

As I was getting in my car, the grumble of a motorcycle engine revving caught my attention. The bike was at the end of the block. The rider looked around quickly, then set off with enough speed that his tires squealed. He took the corner at a steep angle and was gone. I caught only a glimpse; the rider wore a helmet, but I recognized the canvas army jacket.

Peter Gurney was tracking me.

After a moment of thought, I decided that didn’t bother me. Maybe this was something he had to do, to feel he was learning as much about T.J. as he could. He could learn from me—I didn’t have anything to hide. He was quite a ways down on the list of things I was worried about at the moment.

I called the Paradox crew to tell them I’d be late. Arriving at last, I found Jules and Tina waiting for me in the hospital cafeteria, sparsely populated after the lunchtime rush. They sat around a table, slumped forward, gazes vacant—still looking shell-shocked. Tina had a smoky cough. We’d been so worried about Gary, the rest of us had only sat still for cursory examinations by the paramedics. Smoke inhalation, minor burns. Get some rest was what we were told.

I felt fine, but I was a werewolf with super healing. I ought to tell them to get to bed to rest and heal. But I kept thinking, what if this happened again, and again? And now I’d dragged them into it.

“How’s everyone this morning?” I greeted them, and they all grumbled. “How’s Gary?”

When they didn’t answer right away, I assumed the worst. I was all ready to run up to his room and check on him myself—assuming he was still there, but Tina said, “He’s awake. He’s okay. He’s still a little groggy, but he’ll be okay.”

Relieved, I sank into a free chair and blew out a sigh. “That’s really good to hear. Have you told him about your, um, talent yet?” I kind of wanted to be there for that conversation.

“Uh, no,” Tina said. “I figured I’d wait until he was back on his feet.”

I was going to say something about whether they’d be interested in doing the big reveal on my show, but Tina wrinkled her nose and peered hard at me. “What’s wrong?” I said, wary.

“Are you okay? You’ve got something weird going on. This smell.”

I wondered... I was carrying a jar of the blood-and-ruin potion in my bag, for the Paradox crew to use.

“Er,” I said, chagrined. “I didn’t think nonlycanthropes could smell it.”

“Smell what?” Jules said.

“You can’t smell that?” Tina said. “Oh, God, don’t tell me—”

Tina didn’t really smell it—she sensed it. Which gave me hope, because that meant there was something weird and magical about it. Maybe it would work.

I revealed the jar, half filled with viscous black goo. They twisted their faces up in expressions of disgust. “It’s supposed to be a protection spell.”

“What is it?” Jules said, already repulsed, though I hadn’t even told him.

“Blood mixed with dust from a ruin.”

They both went Eww.

“Got that out of a book, didn’t you?” Jules said, cutting. “Something by Crowley, maybe?”

“As a matter of fact, no,” I said. “I happen to have a consultant on the case. Like you guys. Have your contacts been able to turn up anything? Any ideas what we do next to track this thing down?”

Again, they answered with a long, hard silence. I blinked at them. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s really hard saying this, Kitty,” Jules said.

“Because you’re a coward,” Tina muttered. Jules glared at him.

“What?” I said. “What’s hard?”

They exchanged glances, frowning, slouching. If anything, they looked even more glum than they had when I arrived.

Cm" g, “We’re leaving Denver,” Jules said finally. “The producers yanked the plug when they found out what happened. What you’ve uncovered here, it’s simply too dangerous.”