Kitty Steals the Show (Kitty Norville)

by Carrie Vaughn

  “We’d prefer to stop him before we reach that point,” Ned said. “None of us really wants to find out what he has planned.”

  The conversation reached a lull; maybe we were all contemplating the possibilities. It was enough to turn any party somber. I had an urge to call Cormac to ask his advice, interrupting what was no doubt a nice domestic scene across town. But I wasn’t going to ask him in front of the vampires. I asked myself, as I often did when I was stuck in a situation I couldn’t seem to solve: What would Cormac do? What did the true hunter’s extinct call for in this coming war?

  Cormac would say to go after Roman until we completely smoked the bastard. Trouble was, we’d tried that one before. Maybe we had to come at this a little more defensively.

  I straightened, caught their attention, spoke. “In summary, you’re worried that London is in danger from Mercedes and her allies, and you don’t know who to trust among the vampires. So why not turn to the werewolves? Ally with them.”

  Antony chuckled. “I don’t mean to sound rude—I’m happy to listen to any and all recommendations of course—but what can the werewolves possibly do to help?”

  I managed to keep my voice calm. “Caleb has united the werewolves of the British Isles. They can help you.”

  “Ah, yes, you’ve gone and met Caleb all on your own. When were you going to tell me about that?” Ned sounded genuinely put out. As if he wasn’t the greatest actor of his generation, able to sound however the hell he wanted.

  Flatly I said, “You never asked. As I was saying, the werewolves here are independent, not under your thumb at all—”

  “Because I don’t need them,” Ned said. “Caleb understands that. We don’t bother each other. It’s an equitable arrangement.”

  “You don’t need each other, either, I understand. Rick in Denver and I have the same deal—except we go a step further. We help each other, because the city is stronger when we work together. That’s how we’ve kept Denver out of Roman’s hands.”

  “Werewolves aren’t that powerful,” Antony said.

  I spread my arms. “Hey, I’m the one who broke up your party the other night.”

  “Regina Luporum. Hmm,” Antony said, tapping a finger on his chin, considering.

  Facing the ceiling, I growled. Ben patted my shoulder and kissed my cheek. “You brought this on yourself, hon.”

  “Fine. I quit.”

  He just grinned at me.

  “Perhaps she’s right, Ned: you should arrange a meeting with Caleb,” Marid said.

  London’s Master regarded me with a narrowed gaze. “Kitty, perhaps you should arrange the meeting. Since you two apparently get along so well—”

  “I wouldn’t say that—”

  “If I approach him he’ll think I’m conspiring. He won’t trust me. But if you mediate…”

  “But you are conspiring,” I said.

  “Yes, for all our benefits,” he replied.

  I’d practically asked for this, hadn’t I? I put my hand over Ben’s and glanced at him. “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s worth a try. You’ve said it before—the more people are keeping watch against Roman, the better.”

  I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and walked to the other side of the room to make the call.

  His greeting when he answered was practically a bark, designed to make the listener cower. I resisted the urge and tried to sound annoyed. “Hello to you, too. It’s Kitty Norville.”

  “I can hear that. What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into?”

  “Nothing yet. I’ve volunteered to mediate. Ned Alleyn wants a meeting.”

  “He does, does he? What for? Going to try to convince me that due to current turmoil I need to put myself under his protection? For my own good and the good of my wolves, of course.”

  “Sounds like you two already had that conversation.”

  “What’s he want, then?”

  “I believe he wants to discuss an alliance.” Smiling pleasantly, I turned to look at Ned, who was watching me with a raised brow.

  “Now I’m confused. What are you all playing at?”

  “Agree to a meeting and find out.”

  The rumble over the line might have been distant static, or his growl. I hoped I dangled enough bait in front of him. He had to be curious.

  Finally he said, “All right, but we meet on my turf. Hyde Park in an hour. My people have used the park for emergencies before—we can disable enough of the CCTV cameras to create a protective blackout.”

  “I think that sounds entirely reasonable.”

  “And just him. He can bring flunkies to stand watch, but when it comes to talking it’s just the two of us. I don’t want any of those other Masters there.”

  “As long as the same applies to you, I expect. A few flunkies, and that’s it.”

  “He’ll never agree to terms I set. Just watch.”

  “We’ll see you there, Caleb.” I clicked off before he could harangue me further. “There. Meeting set.” I relayed the details.

  Ned pursed his lips like he’d tasted something sour. “I was hoping we could meet someplace a little more … sheltered. Like here, for example.”

  He’d overheard the whole thing. Just meant less for me to explain. “I think he has every right to avoid that. You’re not worried, are you?”

  “Don’t worry Ned,” Antony said, smiling. “We’ll be there to back you up.”

  “Ah, no you won’t,” I said. “Caleb said just Ned. You all have to hang out somewhere else.”

  “Isn’t that a bit unreasonable?” Ned said.

  “Not to mention presumptuous,” Antony said. “We agreed to the meeting with certain assumptions in mind. Who are you to undermine that?”

  “A werewolf?”

  “Exactly! The nerve—”

  “Get used to it,” I said. “If this is going to work, you have to treat Caleb and me as equals. If you can’t do that—why are we even here?”

  Antony slouched back in his chair, glowering.

  “There there,” Ned reassured him. “Humility is a lesson we all have to learn.”

  “Remind me again—why are we listening to her?”

  “Because she’s faced Dux Bellorum and lived to tell about it. Pay attention, Antony.”

  They planned among themselves, which of Ned’s followers should tag along as bodyguards, and how close Marid and Antony could get without violating Caleb’s terms.

  “I assume you and I are going to this?” Ben said, leaning in close and whispering. We couldn’t guarantee that the vampires didn’t hear us, but we could make the attempt at privacy.

  “I’m the mediator, right?” I whispered. “You know, this makes me seem a whole lot more badass than I actually feel.”

  “Just keep playing badass and you’ll do fine.”

  “Thanks, dear.”

  Chapter 14

  I HAD A sudden need to look up where the Jack the Ripper murders had taken place. Not near Hyde Park, it turned out, which was only mildly reassuring. At night the place was spooky enough to start my imagination running. The nearly new moon and gas lamp–looking lights on posts gave the wide lawns and straight paths a sepia tone cast: gray, orange, murky. Stands of trees ringed the area like sentinels, and the buildings beyond the park seemed unnaturally far away.

  I was a creature of the night, I wasn’t supposed to be afraid of the dark. Not that it was the dark I was afraid of—it was the other creatures of the night.

  Caleb had chosen a spot almost in the center of the park, where several paths converged, and some distance away from the Serpentine, the long, winding lake on the south end, where someone could easily be trapped in case of an ambush. Not that he was thinking in those terms. He probably just wanted to be in a place with good visibility, where he could watch people approach.

  Ben, Ned, and I followed one of the paths, then cut across the lawn, roughly in the area Caleb asked us to wait. Emma stayed home; Ned was worried at the in
terest she’d drawn from Jan’s flunky and wanted her safe. He had four other vampires standing guard. Marid and Antony promised to stay out of the park, but they didn’t say where they would be. I hoped they didn’t spook Caleb. What was I saying, could anything spook Caleb?

  “This would be nice if I weren’t so twitchy about it,” Ben said, scanning the shadows.

  The place was quiet, peaceful. We could go for a run—the four-legged kind even—and not feel the press of the city. Lie together on the grass and watch clouds passing in front of the moon. But yeah, twitchy. Caleb and his wolves were on the way; I could sense them, a touch of wild on the air. We were in their territory, and Wolf wasn’t happy about it.

  “Well, we’re here,” Ned announced. Bundled in a coat, face up, hair ruffled, he was a shadowed figure in the dark, perfectly at home and not at all nervous. “And no werewolf. I’ll give him ten minutes, then give up on him.”

  “Here he is,” I said, nodding.

  Caleb and three men approached on one of the other paths. He spoke to his companions briefly, and they broke off, cutting across the lawn to take up some kind of perimeter lookout. Ben watched them go—keeping a lookout on them.

  Britain’s alpha werewolf closed the distance with an easy stride, as if he’d happened to meet friends on the path during a casual stroll. But his gaze was focused, his shoulders tense.

  I smiled at him. “We thought maybe you changed your mind at the last minute.”

  “Naw, I wouldn’t miss this. You bossing the bloodsuckers around? Priceless.”

  “I do what I can.”

  “Ned,” Caleb said flatly.

  “Caleb, good of you to come.” The vampire offered his hand. The werewolf considered it a moment, as if thinking of biting it. He finally shook it in a civilized manner. “Kitty said you disabled the security cameras?”

  “Of course I did. We’re not stupid, no matter what you lot think of us.”

  Ned pouted, but his eyes crinkled with amusement. “Don’t be cross. I had to ask.”

  “You wanted this meeting. Why?”

  Ned answered, “There’s a war coming, we both know it. There are forces that would destroy what we’ve worked for, and destroy us. I would like to prevent that and I assume you would as well. I believe we can no longer approach this conflict defensively, as insular entities.”

  Caleb studied him for a long moment. I was about to interrupt when he finally answered. “That all sounds very fine, but my only concern is keeping the isles stable. You sound like you want to bring a war to our doorstep ahead of schedule.”

  Ned said, “If we’re strong enough, the war may not come here at all. We might even consider launching an offensive.”

  “Have you been giving him ideas?” Caleb said to me.

  I winced. “I might have made a suggestion or two.”

  “I knew you were trouble.”

  “Here’s the thing,” I said. “This isn’t about territory, this is about building an army to withstand Roman. To raise a defense that he can’t touch. If he solidifies his power in Europe, what does that do to your stability?”

  The werewolf frowned. “You’re staging World War Two over again, you know that?”

  I considered that a moment. The comparison seemed too easy to make. Maybe there was a reason for that. “I guess I am. So how about it?”

  “You remember the Blitz, Caleb?” Ned said.

  “Before my time, but I know the stories,” he said. “The city’s werewolves could see and move in the blackouts, and they weren’t easily injured by falling debris and shrapnel in the bombing. They organized, became Air Raid Wardens, walked patrols, and arranged rescues of survivors buried in fallen buildings. They could smell them and guide the rescue crews to them. The city’s alpha at the time, a hoary old monster without a lick of patience, punished any wolves caught hunting or killing in the chaos.”

  Ned said, “I gave the wolves who patrolled the run of my properties so they always had a safe place to go, rations that no one else had access to. I organized—”

  “Give yourself a bloody medal, why don’t you,” Caleb said.

  Ned pursed his lips. “I’m merely demonstrating that we can work together to protect the city because we’ve done it before.”

  “This isn’t the Blitz.”

  “Not yet,” Ned said.

  Even I thought that might have been overstating the case, except for the voice in the back of my head that said, What if he’s not?

  Caleb might have been asking himself the same question, the way he scowled.

  Ned continued. “The turmoil surrounding this conference of Ms. Norville’s has convinced me that I can no longer watch events from the sidelines. Our two tribes working together must be stronger than the sum of our parts.”

  The werewolf gave him a sour look. “You talk high and mighty, sir, but you’re no Churchill.”

  “I knew him, you know.”

  Caleb turned away, scowling dramatically.

  “What do you think, Caleb?” I said.

  “I’m willing to consider an alliance. But an alliance isn’t strategy. How do you expect—”

  A long, strained howl echoed from a distant part of the park, then cut off abruptly. A warning.

  “That was Sam,” Caleb said, listening, ear cocked. “He’s meant to be watching the east approach.”

  “That sounded like trouble,” Ben said.

  “Yes,” Caleb said.

  We all faced different directions, scanning the edges of the open space.

  “Might I suggest moving indoors?” Ned said. His town house was maybe ten blocks away.

  “It’s too late for that, I think,” Caleb murmured.

  The figure of a man, shirtless and barefoot, came toward us across the lawn from a distant row of trees. He was fast, powerful, running with a long, loose stride that had an animal quality to it, easy and fluid. One of Caleb’s pack—the lieutenant who’d been with him the other night. The alpha trotted out to meet him.

  “They got him, they killed Sam,” he said to Caleb. “They went right for his heart, he didn’t have a chance—”

  “Who is it, Michael? Who got him?” Caleb held the man’s head steady and made him look in his eyes. The wolf, Michael, was struggling, gasping for breath, his muscles tense. All his instincts were telling him to shift, but he was holding on. “Was it vampires or wolves, Michael?”

  “Both, Caleb. Both!”

  Chapter 15

  MICHAEL LOST control, doubling over and hugging himself, groaning as his wolf fought free. Caleb knelt with him, hand on his shoulder, steadying him as he fought the last of his clothing. Bronze-gray fur rippled across Michael’s back, and his face stretched.

  The instinct to Change spiked through us.

  “Keep it together,” Ben murmured, for my benefit or his I couldn’t tell.

  “Kitty?” Ned asked cautiously.

  “We’re fine,” I shot back. “Where are they? I don’t smell them.”

  “They’re moving downwind of us,” Ben said. We stood back-to-back, our natural posture in the face of danger.

  “Caleb, how many are there? How many did he see?” Ned said, but Michael’s last moan turned into a growl of warning.

  “He saw enough, likely,” Caleb said.

  Ben looked at Ned. “Well, Churchill, have any ideas?”

  “If I’m not mistaken, they’re hoping to corner us, attack us all at once. Bloody and decisive.”

  “There’s a reason I’m the alpha of this territory. They’re not going to win this,” Caleb said. “Michael, call them.”

  The wolf had been pacing back and forth before his alpha, ranging forward and circling back. His ears were flat, his lips drawn back. Tipping his head back, he howled a series of long warning notes.

  “That going to be a problem when people start calling the police about wolves running wild in Hyde Park?” Ben said.

  “They’ll say it was kids messing around. It’s happened before.”

>   The open, sloping lawn meant we had a good view in every direction. The position might not have been as defensible as I liked. Behind walls would have been better.

  “Here they come,” Ned said.

  Four wolves ran, bodies rippling, strangely liquid, shadows flowing across the lawn. They approached at a wide angle, aiming to converge on us. At the same time, three more wolves, stretching legs to make huge strides, came obliquely to intercept them.

  “Those three are mine!” Caleb called. They were all just shapes, creatures from a nightmare, multiplying.

  “I should Change,” Ben said. “I can fight better if I Change.”

  “Too late,” I said. “Stay with me.”

  The two waves of animals met each other, bodies crashing, pale teeth bared and flashing in the dark. Their snarls cut like rasps on wood.

  I looked behind us, because no way would a pack of wolves have launched an attack on just one front. Sure enough, two more rocketed from the back of the hill, in beautiful motion, without a wasted step. They aimed toward Ned.

  The vampire waited calmly on the crest of the hill. He’d taken off his coat, laid it on the grass, and rolled up his sleeves. Ben and I ran to join him, reaching him as the wolves did. Three against two—not terrible odds. But this was going to hurt.

  The two of us jumped at one of the wolves, tackling him, using our weight to pin him to the ground. The wolf was ready for us and writhed, twisting back on himself, flexing every muscle to wrench out of our grasp. He snapped; his teeth caught on my arm, and I hissed at the pain. I managed to grab his ear and twist; he yelped, then jerked out of my grip. Ben was trying to turn him onto his back, but the wolf kicked, digging claws into us, and tumbled away.

  Ned had pinned the second wolf with a knee and wrenched back its head until bone snapped. The wolf fell limp. Our opponent jumped on him, and we scrambled to help. Moving so fast he blurred, Ned swung around and punched from the shoulder, striking the animal in the eyes, knocking him over. That gave us a chance to grab him. I leaned an elbow into the wolf’s belly, Ben dug into his rib cage, and Ned, once again, took hold of the head and twisted. This one collapsed, too.