Ben went to the door and picked up my backpack. He stayed there, waiting. He had a trunk full of gear that said we could do this. Damn Cormac and his armory.
I turned back to the phone. “When should we be there?”
“Now.”
I hissed out a breath. “Okay. Fine. We’re on the way. I’m going to make some calls. You’d better keep your phone handy in case I find out this is all some horrible trick.”
“Will do. Park a block south of the building and I’ll meet you.”
I shoved the phone in my pocket. When I reached the door, Ben handed me my bag.
“We’re going to Obsidian?” he said.
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s go.” He was outside before I could say anything. Like I’m sorry.
In five minutes, we were on the road. Ben drove, his attention focused. Not looking at me, not saying a word. I wanted to cry. But I had those calls to make.
“Shaun, it’s Kitty.”
“What’s happening?” he said, his voice urgent. We’d all been waiting by our phones.
“Rick’s moving, but I need some eyes. Any word where Carl and Meg are?”
“Someone’s watching the house. I’ll find out.”
“And if anybody spots Arturo, I want to know about it.”
“Got it. I’ll call back in a minute.”
He was straightforward. Reliable. A good lieutenant. I’d been lucky, finding him when I did. Or maybe my instincts were better than I thought they were. Some of my instincts, anyway.
I was torn between wanting to make more calls, and wanting to leave the line open for Shaun and Rick. I risked one. Cheryl answered the phone.
“Hi, Cheryl?”
“Kitty, oh my God, are you okay? Is everything okay?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.” I couldn’t tell anything by her voice. She still had the hysterical edge going.
“Everything’s fine here. Dad left the hospital after dinner. Mom was asleep. They’ve still got her doped up pretty good. But everyone’s fine. We haven’t seen anything.”
Good. “That’s what I wanted to hear. I have to get off the line, but I’ll call again. Maybe I’ll wait until morning if everything’s okay.”
“Be careful.”
“Thanks.”
I clicked the line off and waited for Shaun to call back.
Ben kept looking in the rearview mirror, repeatedly, more than the average driving maneuver warranted.
“What is it?”
“I think we’re being followed.”
Oh, that was almost funny. I twisted around to look out the back window. “Are you serious?”
“Could you be a little less obvious?” Ben said.
“But this is hilarious. We’re being followed? Really? Do I get to shoot out the window next?”
“Kitty, sit down.”
I faced front and sat. By then, we’d pulled off the freeway at Colfax and turned east.
That was when the red and blue flashing lights started.
“Great,” Ben muttered, shifting the wheel to pull us over to the curb. “Unmarked police car.” Sure enough, a dark sedan, unmarked and unremarkable, pulled up behind us. The lights flashed from a panel on the back of the sun visor, behind the windshield.
“I, uh, don’t suppose we could outrun ’em?”
Ben gave me another look. The annoyed look that had become so common. He said, “No situation has ever been improved by trying to outrun the cops.”
The sedan’s driver side door opened. Somehow, I was unsurprised when Detective Hardin stepped out.
I put my hand on the door handle, preparing to pile out to confront her, but Ben said, “Don’t. We’ve been pulled over, we’re going to sit and wait like good little citizens.”
He helpfully rolled down the window. When Hardin leaned in, she was smiling.
“Hi,” she said.
She was supposed to be one of the good guys. She may not have believed it, but we were all on the same side. I couldn’t let her hold us here. So I did the only thing I could—I let my big mouth get the better of me.
“Detective—what the hell are you doing here? Are you still following me?”
I should have guessed that she was used to me by now. Her expression didn’t flicker. “Yep. You seem to know where all the interesting people are.”
Great. Just great.
She went on. “Those guys we caught today seem perfectly willing to rat out everyone involved. They just want to be let out before Tuesday. What’s Tuesday?”
“Next full moon,” I said.
Hardin winced. “Right. Got it. So. Who are you going to see now?”
Then my phone rang. I swore, as soon as this night was over I was going to shove it down the garbage disposal.
“Yeah?”
“Kitty, it’s Shaun. Becky tried to call Mick—he was watching Carl and Meg’s place. But we can’t get hold of him. Something happened, they may be on to us.”
“Mick was out at their place?”
“He was supposed to be.”
“Look, the cops have someone staking out their place and haven’t seen anything. Would Mick have followed them into the hills?”
“Maybe.”
“Someone should go check on him. We need to know what they’re doing out there.”
“Becky and Wes are on it.”
“What about Arturo?”
“No sign.”
I groaned. “I don’t like this.”
“Can I help?” he said.
“Keep looking out at my sister’s, but have your phone handy. We may need some ass-saving later on.”
Hardin was staring at me. “Arturo? Denver’s Master vampire? The one I want to pin those murders on?”
“Uh, yeah.” Ben could jump in to save me anytime, but he seemed happy to sit back and watch me dig my own hole.
“You going after him?” the detective asked.
“It’s more like we’re trying to keep him from coming after us.”
“I thought the best way to do that was to stay home and not invite them in.”
“Um, yeah. Usually.”
“I want this guy, Kitty. Help me get him.”
“Can you handle him? Can you really handle him?”
“A trunk full of stakes and holy water says I can,” she said. “I’ve been doing my homework.”
“You have no idea what you’re getting into,” Ben said.
“I’m looking forward to finding out,” she said.
My phone chose that opportune moment to ring. Again. It couldn’t possibly be anything good.
“What!” I said.
“I’d like a word with you, Katherine. We need to end this, before we see another bloodbath.” Arturo, as refined as ever. My skin pricked; the hair on my neck prickled. Where was he? And what was he doing? How badly were we all screwed this time?
I hoped my voice didn’t shake too badly. “A word with me? Why not Rick?”
“You’ll see. I want to deal with you and you alone.”
“I think this is a trick. I think it’s a trap. No, I won’t do it.”
“Oh, you’ll come speak with me.”
I laughed. “I will?”
“Yes. Because I’m standing next to your mother’s hospital bed.”
The phone clicked off.
A sickly, hot/cold fever washed over me, and my gut melted into my feet. My lips went numb. I couldn’t feel anything. I leaned back against the headrest.
“Kitty?” Ben said. “What’s wrong?”
“What is it?” Hardin echoed.
My voice didn’t work. This was Rick’s fault, I wanted to scream. Wanted to growl. Wolf started thrashing—pack was in danger. My human pack, but still. Had to run, had to fight. I swallowed, counted, coiled the fear deep inside. Kept it together.
“Kitty,” Ben said in a low voice, drawing me back to myself. His hand clamped over my arm, a steadying pressure.
“That was Arturo.” I gest
ured with my still-on phone. My hand was shaking. “He’s got my mom.”
The pause only lasted a beat. “Do you know where?” Hardin said. She had her radio in her hand.
I nodded and told her the hospital. “She just had surgery.”
Hardin was talking into her radio, calling for backup.
“Ben, we have to go help my mom,” I said, and at the same time more thoughts slammed into me. More implications. This wasn’t an accident. This was a setup. “Arturo knows Rick’ll go after Obsidian. It’s a trap.”
Quickly I dialed Rick’s number. It rang. And rang, and rang. “Shit.”
“I’ll go,” Ben said. “I’ll get to Obsidian to help Rick. You go with Hardin to the hospital.”
I looked at Hardin. “Is that okay?”
“Sure. Come on.” She headed back to her car.
Squeezing Ben’s hand, I said, “Be careful.”
“You, too.”
I jumped out of the car to follow Hardin. I only got about halfway when I heard, “Kitty!”
Ben left the car and trotted toward me, hefting my backpack. I met him halfway, the late-night traffic roaring past us. Over us, the dark sky was washed out by city lights.
“Don’t forget this.” Ben handed me the bag. It had a weight snugged firmly inside that had become familiar. The handgun. “I put some stakes in there, too.”
“Cool. Good.”
Then he kissed me. Hand on my cheek, holding me steady, he covered my lips with his and urged open my mouth. I responded, melting against him. The movement lingered, passionate, flushing through my whole body. The touch was fire. I wanted to fall against him and keep him that close to me forever. My hands clenched on his arms.
He pulled away. “Be careful,” he said, his voice tight. Then he retreated to his car. His jaw was taut, lips frowning, determined and driven.
That kiss was almost like saying goodbye.
“Kitty, come on!” Hardin called from inside her car.
Then we were back to the gangster movie. Ben drove off.
He’d be all right, I knew he would.
I climbed into the passenger seat of Hardin’s car, and we peeled back onto the road.
“Lucky girl,” she observed, her smile amused.
“Yeah,” I said, still breathless. Yeah, I was.
chapter 14
She switched on all the sirens and lights, and we sped off at superspeed. I had calculated twenty minutes to get to the hospital. We might make it in ten.
“Tell me about Arturo,” Hardin said, totally calm, not at all like she was speeding down Denver’s streets at eighty miles an hour.
Where to start? “He’s a vampire. I don’t know how old. Maybe two or three hundred years—”
“You know, I can’t even comprehend that,” she said, giving a short laugh. “He was alive when George Washington was alive. What does that mean? How does this guy look at the world?”
“It means we don’t matter to him,” I said. “We’re just a flash in the pan.”
“What else?”
“He has flunkies, followers. I don’t know if he’ll have any of them here. I’m guessing he left them to guard the homestead. But if they are here, they’ll protect him.”
Her expression pursed, contemplating the dilemma: they were vampires, monsters, and she could plow right through them to get to her quarry. But they were also individuals who were entitled to due process.
“If we do run into them, how do I stop them? Can I do it without killing them?”
“I don’t know. Lots of things’ll hurt them: sunlight, holy water. Maybe even garlic. Staking’s what kills them.”
“So those stories are true.”
“A lot of them, yeah.”
“Good.” She reached to her collar and pulled a chain with a cross pendant from under her shirt. She left it hanging over her collar.
We arrived at the hospital. After hours, the place seemed almost calm.
“All right, where’s my backup,” she muttered as she pulled up to the curb along the emergency drive. At this hour, that was probably the only entrance that would be open. I was out of the car and running for the doors before Hardin even stopped the car. “Kitty, wait!”
I didn’t. Incongruously, the place was brightly lit, like a beacon. The rest of the world was so dark right now.
Inside, I hit the linoleum and didn’t stop. I looked for a sign that would tell me how to get to the main part of the hospital, and where I could find Mom’s room. I must have looked dangerous because a uniformed security guard, hand on his belt, moved to intercept me.
I realized: I could knock him over. Let out a little bit of Wolf and knock him aside. But I didn’t. I begged.
“I need to get in, one of your patients may be in danger! Please!”
Hardin had followed close behind me and flashed her badge. “Let her through.”
The guard stepped aside, and I ran past him. Vaguely, I was aware of Hardin following. I didn’t wait for her. I only had one thought in my head: Please, let her be safe.
Up some stairs, through a door, down a hall, and around a corner, we came to her room. I smelled her. The door was open, and it was dark. The bed and its occupant were visible only by pale light bleeding from the hallway. Mom was asleep, her head tilted slightly on the pillow, arms resting on the blanket, tangled in a mess of IV tubes and wires. Around the odors of illness and medication, I smelled her. She was breathing, her heart pounded steadily, she was alive. But pale. Her face was lined, even in sleep.
Sitting in a chair by her bedside, tilted with a view toward the door, watching her sleep, was Arturo.
Blood throbbed in my skull, and I thought I might faint.
“How did you get in here?” I said, my voice shaky. This could go very badly. “What are you doing?” I’d been told that the prohibition against vampires entering without invitation didn’t apply to public, commercial property. Apparently, the hospital room was public space.
His gaze shifted to me almost lazily, unconcerned. He struck such an incongruous picture: he sprawled in the plastic chair like it was a throne, one leg stretched before him, both elbows resting on the thin arms. He wore tailored slacks, a white shirt buttoned at the collar, and a suit jacket. On him, the ensemble looked formal, elegant. He was a Victorian gentleman landed in the modern age.
Hardin joined me, blocking light as she stood in the doorway. She held her gun aimed at the vampire. No, it wasn’t a gun. It was a hand-sized crossbow, with a wooden shaft loaded.
“Don’t move. I’ll shoot,” Hardin said, authoritative and coplike. Arturo appeared unconcerned.
“Detective Hardin, I’d like you to rest for a moment,” Arturo said. He spoke slowly, with an almost musical tone. He’d caught her gaze. The two were looking into each other’s eyes like they were the only people in the world.
I knew she wouldn’t be able to handle the vampires.
“Lower your weapon, please,” he said. And she did. She looked relaxed, but her face held a quizzical expression, her brow slightly furrowed, like some part of her wondered why she was obeying him. Some part of her still held on to herself. Nonetheless, she’d fallen under his spell.
“Arturo, stop it,” I said.
“Detective Hardin, step into the hallway for a moment. Lean against the wall and rest. Thank you.”
Hardin slipped out the door, slumping against the wall as if she really had decided to rest there a moment.
I was all alone with him. My ill mother and him. Quickly I wiped a tear away. It was all over. All of it was for nothing.
“What do you want?” I whispered.
“I only want to talk,” he said. “We’re both safe here. We can’t do battle here.”
“You—you won’t hurt her?” I was crying anxious, silent tears, and I hated that I was doing it. I felt so weak and helpless.
Slowly, absently almost, he shook his head. “I could save her, if you like.”
He could drain her, turn her, and in
three days she’d become like him. Invincible, immortal, cured.
“So could I. I offered. She refused.”
“She’s a wise woman.”
“Yes, she is.”
“Carl has to go. I see that. I told him not to strike at you. I told him that stunt last night was a ploy to draw us out. That if we stayed calm, you couldn’t touch us. I’m not surprised he didn’t listen to me.”
“He’s predictable,” I said.
“Are you ready to replace him?”
“Yes.”
“I could help you.”
He could. In a word, a gesture, he could destroy Carl and Meg. All I’d have to do was step into the vacancy. That, and sell my soul to Arturo.
“I can’t owe you anything, Arturo. I don’t want to be in your debt for this.”
“I thought so. I had to try, though. Carl didn’t have your scruples when he took me up on that offer.”
I hadn’t heard that story. I hadn’t ever thought about the alpha male Carl must have had to fight to replace. When I’d been attacked, infected, when I’d joined the pack, Carl had seemed like a god, enduring and eternal.
Arturo stood in a fluid movement, incomprehensibly graceful. He was sitting, then he was standing, his hands curled behind his back. He neared my mother’s bed and leaned over it.
“They didn’t remove it all,” he said, scrutinizing her, studying her with a narrowed gaze. “She’ll have months of chemotherapy ahead of her. Even after that it could come back anytime, anyplace. Her bones. Her blood. Her brain.”
“How do you know that? You don’t know that.”
“I feel it in her blood. I feel it traveling.” He held a hand, spread flat, a few inches over her chest, like he really could feel tiny cells of cancer wreaking havoc. “Her blood is sick.”
I choked on a sob. My voice scraped like sandpaper. “Please, Arturo. Leave her alone.”
When he touched Mom’s face, a light brush of fingers along her chin, I almost screamed.
“What would you do to keep her safe, Katherine?”
Arturo had never been able to bring himself to call me Kitty. The name was beneath his dignity. Now when he said my full name, it felt like fingers curling around my throat, squeezing.
“Anything,” I whispered.
His hand rested on my mother’s throat, where he could squeeze and strangle her. “You’ll take Carl’s place. You’ll answer to me.”
Kitty and the Silver Bullet Page 22
