Kitty Raises Hell

I nearly screamed, but I swallowed it back. My voice sounded u

We both simmered for a moment. Then she said, “How do I arrest a genie?”

That was always the first thing she asked. How do I arrest it? She’d managed lycanthropes so far and was gu

“Some of us are working on the problem,” I said, sighing.

“I want in on it,” she said.

“What?”

“I’m not convinced you’ve ever really bought into this supernatural-and-law-enforcement-working-together philosophy, no matter how much you might talk about it on your show. I think you’re still in this mind-set of working under the radar and making sure the supernatural takes care of its own problems. I don’t know who you have working on this, and I don’t really care. I just want in on it. Don’t keep me in the dark.”

Whoa. She not only listened to my show. She, like, paid attention. Read into it.

I changed my tone, leaned back against the sofa, and tried to sound nonchalant. Tried to relax so I could sound nonchalant. “Detective. You like my show?”

She huffed. “I consider it part of my job to listen to it. I don’t know if there’s any like involved.”

Ouch. That wasn’t exactly a vote of confidence. I avoided an urge to whine about it. “Listen tonight,” I said. “Then you’ll know everything I know.”

I hung up before she could argue.

Leaning on the table, I covered my face with my hands. I wanted to run. Wanted to be wild, without responsibility. I didn’t want to have to face this problem anymore.

We watched the news report run on. This was a special, not the regular newscast. Another fancy caption and graphic came on-screen: Arsonist Loose in Denver? They had no idea.

“That was Hardin, I take it,” he said. “Calling about this?”

I nodded. “She says three people have died. No one from the pack, but still.”

“Shit,” he said again. “I hate to think what this thing is going to do next.”

Him and me both. I shook my head, leaned back to stare at the ceiling with aching eyes, beyond tears and beyond words.

“There isn’t enough blood and dust to protect the city,” I said. Now it was all of Denver I felt responsible for, not just me and my pack. All I had to do was make enough of the potion to drench over the whole city. That would go over well.

“You know what this means?” Ben said. “If you bring this up on your show tonight, it’ll strike again. Every time we’ve provoked it, it’s struck back. Lashed out. It’ll use your show as an excuse to attack again.”

This had occurred to me. “Then you think I shouldn’t do it. I shouldn’t talk about it on the show.”

He shook his head. “No. It just means you have to finish it tonight. You can’t let it go on another night.”

“What if we can’t? What if we can’t figure out how to stop it tonight? What then?”

“Then we’ll deal with it tomorrow. One day at a time.”

He was right. If we wanted to rile it up, it had to be because we knew how to finish it. No good just pissing it off for the hell of it.

That was it, then. One way or the other, tonight, we’d face the monster.

Chapter 18

We had all day to prepare. That should have been enough time, right? I read everything I could get my hands on about genies, though most of what was out there was from the One Thousand and One Nights collection of stories, and I wasn’t sure I bought most of that. They were mischievous and seemed most often trapped by clever tricks. The stories were like those of Celtic fairies, pixies, and leprechauns—over time, the truly scary, otherworldly creatures had turned into harmless, cute little beings who granted wishes. Time made the stories nicer. Grimm turned into Disney. Why couldn’t I get a genie that granted wishes and sounded like Robin Williams?

Then again, this genie was granting wishes—just not mine, but my enemies’.

Peter called to check in from Las Vegas. “Hey, Kitty.”

“Hey, have you found Grant?”

“There’s something weird going on with that guy. I tried to get into his dressing room, but nothing worked, and I’ve picked dozens of locks before. I’ve never found a door I couldn’t get into.”

Was that even legal? “You know, if you ever want to do this sort of thing professionally, I think there are guidelines that say breaking and entering is bad.”

“Yeah, okay, but there’s still something weird going on.”

“Agreed.” He had no idea just how weird.

“I went to the police to see if a missing person report’s been filed on him, and I think I found something. There’s about a dozen people over the last five years who’ve gone missing at the Hanging Gardens. That’s unusual, even for Vegas. If you need nonsupernatural proof that something’s going on over there, this may be it.”

“Enough to get the police involved?” I said.

“I need to get someone here interested enough to start an investigation and get a search warrant. I still don’t know quit what I am looking for—”

“Anything they might be using to cast spells or summon demons. Blood, daggers, arcane symbols, Arabic written on ancient parchment. Use your imagination. You’ll probably be close.”

“I still have to talk someone into serving a search warrant.”

“I think I know someone who might be able to help you with that,” I said and gri

They talked for a good long time, and I tried not to be antsy, sitting on the sofa with books and my laptop pretending to do research. I couldn’t get a whole lot of meaning from only one side of the conversation, especially when Ben slipped into lawyer speak, but they sounded like they were making a plan.

“I’ll fax you a copy of the paperwork,” Ben said, and hung up.

“Well?” I said.

“You have a DVD of the show from Vegas?”

“Yeah. What for?”

“I’m going to use it as proof that your buddy Nick is psychologically harassing you and that the harassment is continuing, in violation of the restraining order. We convince the Vegas cops the harassment is dangerous and establish just cause for a search of their place for evidence linking them to the fires.”

“Will that actually work?”

“It might. If it doesn’t, we haven’t really lost anything.”

Nothing but time. “You’re the lawyer,” I said.

He started packing up his laptop and collecting a few papers from the file rack on his desk.

“I’m going to go try to get the police reports about Mick and New Moon. It may take me a few hours to get it all together, then get the files to Peter. Will you be okay?”

I smiled. “Yesterday you didn’t want to leave me alone.”

“But you don’t need to go anywhere today, right? You’ll head to the radio station this evening, but you’ll be here the rest of the time, and the building’s got all that blood gunk around it, right? So you’ll be fine.”

Truthfully, I wasn’t sure, because I was worried about Ben out there by himself, unprotected, where the demon could get to him. And maybe I was nervous about being alone, too. But I nodded. “I’ll be fine. Will you be fine?”

“Yeah, I think so. I hope so. I’ll probably bring a jar of that gunk along, though.”

“I’ll go find one,” I said and went to the kitchen, where I had a box of the stuff. I’d never get the smell of it out of my nose, would I?

When I returned, Ben was ru

Aw. I touched his cheek. “Yeah, but you usually look like you need to comb your hair. You’ll be fine.” We kissed, and for that moment I really did think we’d be all right.

“I’ll meet you at KNOB in time for the show.”

We said our usual “be careful” version of goodbye.