Kitty Goes to War

He shook his head. “Not really. Not officially. But some of the locals told stories—they said there was a demon that lived in the desert. The ghul. It could change its shape, turn into a deer, or a wounded dog, or whatever it needed to lure people into the canyons. Then it would attack. Maybe it was a person, some kind of lycanthrope. But we could have tracked it down then. This thing—we never saw a sign. Just the bodies it left.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “You ever hear of anything like that?”

I shook my head, and once again felt daunted about how much I didn’t know.

We arrived at the South Broadway location, the one we’d trailed Franklin to, which seemed appropriate. Like we’d come full circle. The clerks had bailed here as well, which left the parking lot empty. We put the thunder mark over the door, same as the others. I thought I was getting better at it—faster, anyway. Had to stay positive, right?

Back in the Humvee, Tyler was holding my phone out to me. “It’s your friend.”

I grabbed it and said, “Hello? Cormac? Where are you?”

“Just a sec—there’s four more down,” Cormac said. He told me the locations—Trey and Dan had teamed up to hit two stores up north—and I crossed them off on the map with the Sharpie. They made bold, satisfying X’s across the region. This was like marking territory. I was so proud of my pack.

“That’s great,” I said. “We’re halfway there.”

“Not quite. Franklin’s leaving town.”

“In this weather? How?”

“That Hummer he rented. This follows his pattern—he sets the storms in motion and leaves before he gets caught up in it.”

“So . . . we’re stopping his spell, right? What else do we need to do?”

“I want to get him,” Cormac said.

Yeah. So did I. “What do you need?”

“Meet me outside the Brown Palace.” And he hung up. No plan of attack, no clue about what we were actually going to do when we confronted Franklin. We’d get to that point soon enough.

“We’re heading downtown,” I told Ben and Tyler.

“The interstate’s closed,” Ben said. “We’ll have to take surface streets.”

“That just keeps the adventure going,” I said with false cheer. My nerves were vibrating—what if we went through all this and it didn’t work?

My phone rang again. Shaun this time. “Hey,” I said. “How’s it going?”

“I was going to ask you that,” he said. “Is this actually working? It’s stopped snowing here.”

“It has?” I looked outside, peering at the odd streetlight to catch a hint of movement. I couldn’t see snow falling. Maybe it really had stopped.

The line clicked. “I have another call coming in,” Shaun said. “Lance, it looks like. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Awesome.” I closed the phone and looked at Ben. “I think this is working.”

“It ain’t over yet,” he said.

We drove on, Tyler leaning forward to navigate the snowdrifted street, with stalled and abandoned cars left as obstacles every block or so.

“How are you doing?” I asked him.

“Good,” he said. “As long as I have something else to think about, I’m good.”

I patted his shoulder, and he flashed a smile.

The phone rang again—another Speedy Mart marked, I assumed. Excited, I answered and waited for Cormac’s voice.

“Change of plans—he’s heading east on Colfax. We’ve got to stop him.”

Not exactly what I was expecting. “Stop him how?”

“I don’t know. But we can’t let him leave town.”

“You’re following him, I take it?”

“Yeah. You think you can cut him off?”

Well. We could certainly try. “Sure. Why not? See you in a minute.”

This was going to get ugly. I slipped the phone into my pocket.

“I heard that,” Ben said.

“Where are we?”

“Broadway,” he said.

“We have to hustle,” I said, shaking my head. “We’ll never make it.”

“Just tell me how to get there,” Tyler said, and gu

“Head east on Alameda,” Ben said, gri

Tyler ran the next red light. But we were the only vehicle in sight. Tyler sped through the next three red lights, which was kind of cool. Racing on, we managed to approach Colfax without sliding out of control. I kept expecting to see flashing red and blue lights reflecting off the snow and fog—the one time you don’t expect any cops around, Murphy’s Law said they ought to be here.

Ben navigated until Tyler swung the wheel and fishtailed onto Colfax. I studied the way ahead of us for a black Hummer barreling along. It was hard to see anything through the snow, which was still falling here.

“There he is,” Tyler said, shifting hard and swinging the steering wheel. The Humvee lurched sideways, the chains biting into the ice covering the street. We blocked most of the road, now, and could move forward or back as needed to stop Franklin. The Hummer was a black hole moving through the mist, getting closer. We all expected him to stop.

“Guy’s not slowing down,” Tyler said.

“Maybe he can’t stop on the ice,” I said, doubtful.

“He’s speeding up.” Tyler’s hands kneaded the steering wheel. He bared his teeth. “This is just like a roadblock. He ain’t slowing down.”

Roadblock, car bomb—Tyler was in another place at the moment. I squeezed his shoulder.

“Asshole,” Ben muttered. “Thinks a monster car like that makes him invincible.”

“We can still stop him,” I said. “It won’t hurt us.”

Tyler’s breathing steadied. “Permanently, rather. It’s still go

We didn’t have any time for further discussion. Tyler hunched over, bracing. In the backseat, Ben and I curled up on the floorboards, hanging on to each other.

Then came the crash.

Near as I could figure before I shut my eyes, Franklin’s Hummer T-boned us. Steel crunched and tore. A shockwave slammed through us and we skidded, even with the tire chains. I flew, bounced—hands grabbed me. My vision went upside down for a minute. Then, silence.

I’d been holding my breath. Wolf was shrieking through my gut, claustrophobic and crying to get out. I pulled her in, locked her down tight, made my breathing slow and calm. Only then could I assess. Sore—lots and lots of sore. I had a bruise on my head where I’d run into something hard. But no shooting pains. No blood or broken bones. All in all, I didn’t feel much more beat up than I had after Vanderman worked me over.

Ben’s hand closed on my arm. I grabbed it and squeezed back. We’d ended up on the seat, him pressed up against the door and me sprawled in his lap. I peered through the window and got a look at the hood of Franklin’s Hummer, which was only slightly rumpled. The engine had smoke coming out of it.

We took a moment to stretch our limbs and extricate ourselves.

“Everyone okay? Still human?”

“Barely,” Ben said, voice tense. “You?”

“Shaken. Fine,” I said.

“That sucked.” Rolling a shoulder, he winced. He opened and closed his hand as if he expected it not to work.

“Tyler?” I asked. I could hear him breathing in the front seat, but he hadn’t spoken yet, which worried me. If he shifted, this would get messy. Messier. I straightened, feeling a muscle in my back spasm. Yeah, if I’d been fully human this would have hurt. Leaning over the front seat, I got a look at Tyler.

Hunched over, muscles trembling, he was still gripping the steering wheel, like it was a life preserver. I took a breath—full of wild, full of wolf. I also smelled blood. He was on the edge. He’d been hurt, and his wolf would blaze forth to protect him.

I pulled myself into the front, grunting when my battered muscles complained. Moving close so he could smell me, so he would have to listen to me, I put my arms around him. My embrace seemed small, unable to contain his powerful frame.

His eyes were clamped shut. Blood dripped from a cut on his forehead.

“Tyler, listen to me. Keep it together. Pull it back in. You don’t have to shift, we’re fine, we’re going to be fine. Stay with me. Breathe . . .” The litany went on. Stay human. Stay with us. Breathe slowly, in and out.