Kitty Goes to War

Stafford looked like he wanted to argue, but he went to the broken door, called to the women inside, and after they answered, he shoved into the room. One more problem taken care of.

Ben and Tyler sat against the wall on either side of me. I leaned against Ben and let myself heal. Werewolf healing was fast, but never fast enough when you were in the middle of it.

“Walters saved me,” I said. “Right at the end. He got Vanderman away from me. I think he would have been okay. If we could have kept him safe, he would have been okay.” I shook my head.

Ben kissed the top of my head, and I sighed.

I would have liked to have said that it was all over. But I expected there’d be a lot of excuses, finger-pointing, and rationalizing. Maybe for Tyler this would never be over. He’d have Walters, Vanderman, Gordon, and all the guys from his unit living in his memory for the rest of his life. He’d be asking himself how he was the one who got out alive. This moment might have felt like a victory. But it was a Pyrrhic victory. We were left with a lot of pieces to pick up.

Stafford returned to the hallway. The room’s occupants were two women in fatigues, looking impossibly young and tiny. They glanced at the bodies, glanced at us, then hurried up the hallway and to the door. Two more hatch marks on the victory column. Were we even yet?

The colonel just stared at us.

Tyler pushed himself to his feet, stood at straight, formal attention, and saluted. He held his hand to his forehead in that salute for a long time while Stafford stared at him, apparently at a loss. My Wolf would have bristled under that gaze, accepted the challenge, and tried to throw it back to him. Tyler kept his gaze down. He stayed submissive, acknowledging that Stafford was the one in charge. Most people wouldn’t recognize the body language. Stafford may not have recognized it as lupine body language. But he recognized it as military.

He returned the salute, and Tyler dropped his hand.

“At ease,” the colonel said, and Tyler relaxed a fraction. “What happened here?”

“Sir,” Tyler said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “Sergeant Vanderman and Sergeant Walters aren’t going to be causing any more trouble.”

“And what about you?”

“I’d like to request a discharge, sir.”

I expected Stafford to argue, to at least get huffy, to rant at the little bit of his world attempting to slip out of his control. But he didn’t. He studied Tyler for a long moment, lips pursed, as if he wanted to say something but the words had stuck. Then he touched Tyler’s arm, a quick, sympathetic pat, and turned away.

“Stick around for debriefing. All three of you,” Stafford said over his shoulder as he continued on to lock down the floor.

My phone chose that moment to play “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.” I answered.

Cormac said, “I need help. Now.”

Chapter 21

“WHAT’S GOING on? What’s happening?” I pressed my hand to my opposite ear and walked a few feet away to get some privacy.

“Franklin found himself some very weird ancient magic. He finished casting his spell and this blizzard is just getting started.”

I had stopped questioning this sort of thing a long time ago. Weird ancient magic, check. Even worse blizzard, check. I wanted to go home and take a hot bath.

“Right. But can we stop him?”

“We can neutralize the spell, but we have to hit every Speedy Mart in town to do it. I can’t do it alone.”

That was a pretty big thing for him to admit.

Denver and the surrounding suburbs had thirteen Speedy Marts. Cormac had visited them all over the last week. Normally, getting to all of them would sound doable. Crazy, but doable. But now?

“Cormac, we’re in Colorado Springs in the middle of a blizzard. How the hell are we supposed to get to Denver?”

“I don’t know. Hijack a snowplow or something.”

“Not helpful,” I said. “How much time do we have?”

“A couple of hours before it’s too late to break the spell.”

“Let me call you back in ten minutes,” I said.

“I’m serious, Kitty. We don’t have time to screw around.”

A snarl burred at the back of my throat. “Ten minutes.” I hung up.

Cormac wouldn’t exaggerate. He was talking the worst blizzard ever. A Katrina level of destruction blizzard. I couldn’t imagine. That was the point. Hundred-mile-an-hour winds, subzero temperatures, a dozen feet of snow crashing through roofs, no power, no heat, and having it last for a week or more.

“What’s wrong?” Ben said when I rejoined the group.

“The Franklin situation’s blowing up. Cormac needs us back in Denver.”

Ben blinked in disbelief. “He knows there’s a blizzard on, right?”

“He suggested stealing a snowplow.”

Another moment passed while Ben considered. “He’s not doing anything that’s going to break his parole, is he?”

That question wasn’t highest on my list of current concerns.

“Can I help? What can I do to help?” Tyler asked. Guy needed a mission.

“Think you can get the army to issue us a Humvee?” I said, mostly joking.

Tyler glanced at Stafford, who was down the hall, conversing with a medical crew that had arrived to help clean up the mess. They were loading Walters and Vanderman into body bags. The place was becoming crowded, lots of people in uniform taking orders from the colonel, ducking in and out of rooms, clearing debris. Someone should call Dr. Shumacher to let her know what happened.

“The base is still under lockdown,” Tyler said. “He may not let us out at all.”

Who was I kidding? He probably wouldn’t even let us out of the building, much less out of Fort Carson. But I’d never know unless I asked. The worst he could do was say no.

I walked over to the colonel, hands laced behind my back, trying to look harmless. The slight limp probably didn’t hurt.

“Colonel Stafford?”

He turned and glared, but didn’t tell me to go away.

“I know you want us to stick around, but I really have to get back to Denver. I’ve got a friend who needs help. I’ll come right back as soon as I can, but Tyler says that with the base under lockdown nobody can leave. I really need to leave.”

If possible, his frown deepened. More than stern, though, he looked tired. He disguised the shadows under his eyes with sheer willpower. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in keeping the lockdown in effect. But you can’t drive to Denver in this weather. You might as well stay.”

He was right. We’d barely gotten here in Ben’s sedan as it was. I had no other argument, except to clasp my hands to my chest and look up at him with my big brown eyes while begging, Please?

Even my dignity had bounds.

I crossed my arms. “What if I told you that this blizzard isn’t natural? That it’s the product of a magical spell designed to cause millions of dollars in damage and plunge the region into chaos. I know how to stop it, but I have to get to Denver to do it.”

He crossed his arms back at me, and stared at me down his nose. “I’d say you were crazy.” But the thing was—he was still listening.

“You know that werewolves exist, right?” I said. “You ever think about what else is out there? If werewolves are real, what else must be real?”

“Actually, Ms. Norville, I’ve been trying not to think too hard about that.”

I hid a smile. I understood the impulse. “I really have to get to Denver. You can talk to my friend and he’ll explain the whole deal, if you want. Dr. Shumacher could probably back us up.”

He considered me for an even longer moment. In my mind, a clock was ticking—I needed to call Cormac back. By this time, Ben and Tyler had inched over to listen in. Tyler’s brow was arched, possibly in amazement. Ben was just smiling.

Then Stafford said, “So you came down here to try and help my men before chasing down this other situation?”