Kitty Takes a Holiday kn-3

by Carrie Vaughn

  I didn't make him nervous, and that was refreshing.

  "Did Ben tell you where he'd seen this before?" Tony asked.

  "That job in New Mexico," I said. "The one that blind­sided him and Cormac. They kept thinking there were two werewolves, but the evidence didn't add up."

  "So one werewolf, and one something else? That nar­rows it down."

  I couldn't help it; I laughed. Tony smiled in reply.

  "One more question," he said. "Cormac said he'd meet me here. What happened?"

  That one was a little harder to answer, because I wasn't sure myself. The tension had gotten thick. Then it had twisted, gone weird somehow. When we either couldn't stop glaring at each other, or couldn't look each other in the eye, something had to break.

  I hadn't realized I'd let my hesitation stretch into a long silence until Tony answered for me.

  "Ah—you and Cormac, and then you and Ben—"

  "There was never a me and Cormac," I said.

  "Oh. Okay."

  He didn't sound convinced, and I declined to argue the point further. The lady doth protest too much, and all that.

  Another car was parked on the shoulder, right behind mine. I recognized it; I'd seen it all too often the last week or so. Sheriff Marks's patrol car. His arms crossed, Marks leaned on the hood of his car, staring down Ben, who leaned on the back of mine, staring back.

  "Who's that?" Tony asked as we made our way over the barbed-wire fence. Marks turned to watch our progress, his expression even more hooded and suspicious than ever.

  "Sheriff Avery Marks. The local stalwart defender of truth, justice, and the American way."

  "Hm, one of those."

  "Norville," Marks called. He'd dropped the "Ms." I knew I was in trouble now. "May I ask what you're doing trespass­ing on Len Ford's land? Trying to clean up a little mess?"

  I couldn't quite think of a response that wouldn't get me arrested on the spot. If he'd been five minutes later he wouldn't have seen us, and it wouldn't have been an issue. His timing was impeccable.

  A bit too impeccable. "Have you been following me?" I said.

  I didn't think it possible, but his frown deepened. "I have the right to keep a suspect under surveillance."

  Ben straightened, pushing off from the car. "Your 'sur­veillance' is coming awfully close to harassment, Sheriff."

  "You going to sue me?"

  Ben only raised his brow. Marks didn't recognize the try me look, but I did.

  Oh, this was going to get ugly.

  Tony butted in, shouldering past me and in front of Marks like he really was breaking up a fight. "Hello, Sheriff Marks? I'm Tony Rivera. I'm afraid this is my fault, I asked Kitty to show me around. She said some weird stuff's been happening and I wanted to check it out."

  He held out his hand, an obvious peacemaking gesture, but Marks took his time reaching out to it. Finally, though, they clasped hands. They held on for a long moment, locked in one of those macho who's going to wince first gripping matches.

  Finally, they let go. Tony's face had gone funny, and it took me a moment to figure out what it was. He was frowning. He hadn't frowned once all morning.

  He looked at me. "He's the one. One of them, anyway."

  "One of them, what?" I said, perplexed, at nearly the same time Marks said, "One of who?"

  Then my eyes widened as I realized what Tony was talking about: what he'd come here to look for, the curse, my house—Marks was the one.

  "You?" I drew the word out into an accusation and glared at Marks. He didn't seem like the type to hang skinned dogs from trees. I'd have expected him to just shoot me. I'd never have pegged him as someone who knew anything about magic, even if what he knew was wrong. He was just so… boneheaded.

  "What the hell are you people talking about?"

  Tony said, "Anyone ever tell you that when you lay a curse, you better do it right or it's going to come back and smack you?"

  If Tony was wrong and Marks didn't have anything to do with it, I'd have expected denials. I'd have expected more of the sheriff's blowhard posturing, maybe even threats. Instead, the fury left him for a moment, leaving his face slack and disbelieving.

  His protest was too little, too late. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said in a low voice.

  Tony ignored him, and glanced between Ben and me. "Remember what I said about spirits having fingerprints? Everybody's soul has its own little flavor. It follows them around, touches everything they do. This guy's stamp is all over your place."

  "I called him out there a couple of times, to check things out. That could be why," I said.

  "No. Too strong for that," Tony said. "This has malice in it."

  Marks seemed to wake out of a daze. His defenses slammed into place, and the look of puckered rage returned. "You're accusing me of being the one who pinned those dead rabbits to her porch, and all that other garbage? What a load of crap. I don't believe this hocus-pocus nonsense."

  I said, "But you believe I'm a werewolf—a monster that could do something like slaughter a herd of cattle. You can't have it both ways, Sheriff. Believe one and not the other." I'd learned that quickly enough.

  "Okay, I won't say I don't believe it. Somebody's done something out at your place, I won't deny that. But I wouldn't know the first thing about cursing someone."

  "Maybe you were just following directions," Tony said.

  Again, that blank look while he organized his defense. "That doesn't even make sense."

  I said, "Sheriff, you don't like me. You've made no secret of that. You don't like what I am, you don't like that I'm in your town. Maybe you're not the only one. And maybe you didn't do it, but I'm betting you backed who­ever did."

  The three of us—Tony, Ben, and me—surrounded him, pinning him against his car almost. If Marks had reached for his gun, I wouldn't have been surprised. To his credit, he didn't. He appeared stricken, though. Frozen almost, like he expected us to pounce.

  I said, "I haven't hurt anyone. I didn't kill those cattle. I don't deserve what's been done to me, and I just want it to stop. That's all."

  His lips pursed, his expression hardening. We weren't going to get anything out of him. In his mind, he'd drawn some kind of line in the dirt. I stood on one side, he stood on the other, and because of that we'd never come to an understanding. I might as well pack my bags and leave.

  Tony reached out to him. He moved quickly. Marks and I held each other's gazes so strongly I didn't even notice it until Tony held Marks's collar. Marks only had time to flinch before Tony had pulled out a pendant on a hemp cord that had been tucked under the sheriff's shirt.

  Tony held the pendant flat in his hand, displaying it: a flint arrowhead of gray stone, tied to the cord.

  "Zuni charm," Tony said. "Defense against werewolves. He knows all about this magic."

  Was that why I wanted to growl at Marks every time I saw him?

  Marks snatched the arrowhead away from Tony, clos­ing his hand around it. He took a step back, bumping against the hood of his car. His armor had slipped; now, he seemed uncertain.

  "It wasn't my idea," he said finally.

  The air seemed to lighten around us. At last, he'd said something that sounded like truth.

  "Whose was it? I'm not out for revenge, Marks. I just want to know why."

  "We wanted you to leave. We're a quiet community. We didn't want any trouble."

  "I wasn't going to bring any trouble! I just wanted to be left alone."

  "But you brought trouble. That's trouble." He pointed out to the backhoe across the pasture.

  I shouted. I didn't mean to. It just came out. "You pinned rabbits to my porch before any of those cows died! You assumed I'd do something before anything even hap­pened! You heard what he said about a curse coming back to smack you—you brought this on yourself! And then you had the gall to pretend to investigate, when you knew all along who was doing it—"

  "Kitty, maybe a little more calm," Ben said softly. I must hav
e been really worked up if Ben was having to settle me down. My whole back and shoulders felt tight as springs.

  When Marks spoke, his voice had changed. He sounded suddenly tired, defeated. "We—we knew it wasn't working right. You should have just left. Quietly, without a word. We wanted it to be quiet."

  "Well, you screwed up big time, didn't you?" I said.

  "Can you blame us for trying?" he said roughly.

  "Uh, yeah. Hello, I am blaming you."

  "We all know what you are! A—a monster! We don't want that in our town! Nobody would!"

  "You know, I don't think I'm the monster here, really."

  Thankfully, Tony interceded. "Sheriff, I think I can help clean this all up. We can remove the curse, and remove the consequences of it." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the site of the slaughter. "But the person who planned it, who worked the spell, needs to agree to it."

  He nodded. "All right. Okay. It's Alice. She planned it."

  "Alice?" My jaw dropped, truly astonished. "But she's always been so nice to me. Why—"

  "Because she's nice to everybody, at least in person," Marks said. "I don't think she could be mean to some­body to their face if you held a gun to her head."

  Tony looked at me. "Should we go talk to Alice, then?"

  I still couldn't believe it. Sweet, friendly Alice. Alice who kept healing crystals on her cash register and hung good luck charms on her front door.

  Then again, maybe she did know something about planting curses.

  "Right, then. Off we go." To Marks I said, "You want to come along? Back us up?"

  "To break this thing right, everyone involved should be there," Tony said. He had an authority about him, from the gentle way he spoke to the way he'd grabbed Marks's arrowhead charm. Marks had let it go; it lay on top of his uniform shirt now, exposed.

  The sheriff hesitated, then said, curtly, "I'll meet you there." He turned to yank open his car door. He revved the engine when he started it, and barely gave us time to get out of the way before he lurched the car into reverse, then spun in a U-turn, kicking up gravel all the way.

  "I don't believe it," I said, on general principle.

  "She didn't really seem the type," Ben said.

  Tony said, "Those are the ones you really have to watch out for. The real mean brujas? Always the little old lady down the street. The one who feeds cats off her back porch."

  "Every neighborhood has one of those," I said.

  "Makes you wonder, don't it?" Tony grinned.

  Sighing, I marched to the driver's side of my car. "Let's go and get this over with."

  Marks was already at the convenience store when we pulled into the parking lot. That meant he'd had time to warn her, to prep and get their stories straight. That made me mad. The whole town was against me, and the worst part was I shouldn't have been surprised. I was the monster, they carried the torches and pitchforks, and nothing would change that. Human nature being what it was.

  At least I had backup this time.

  I didn't wait for Ben and Tony, though. I wanted to break up their little witches' coven, and I wanted to do it now. While they were still getting out of the car, I stalked to the door of the store. Slammed it open. Sure enough, Marks and Alice were in conference, leaning over the counter by the cash register. They looked at me, shocked, though they should have expected me. Joe, standing behind Alice, quickly ducked for his rifle. I should have kept my distance, but I wasn't thinking too straight.

  I went right toward them, closing the gap in a few long strides, and I must have had murder in my eyes because they both flinched back. That inspired me; let them think I wanted to rip their throats out.

  I slammed my hand on the counter, making them jump, at the moment Joe cocked and leveled his rifle, mere inches from my skull. I could smell it, cold and oily.

  The bell on the door rang as it opened again. "Kitty!" Ben called, at the same time Tony said, "No, wait." I imagined Tony held him back from rushing to my rescue. I couldn't look away. I only had eyes for Alice.

  "So," I said, filled with fake cheerfulness. "Did you really give those crosses to Jake to melt them down, or did you keep them so you could dump them back around my place?"

  Bug-eyed and stricken, she stared back at me. Almost, she trembled, and a scent of fear-laden sweat broke out on her skin. She looked like prey. Like a rabbit caught in Wolf's sight.

  What a great feeling. I had the power; I was the badass. If I so much as raised a finger, she'd probably scream.

  Then, she knelt. Slowly, she disappeared behind the counter, and when she stood again, she held the bag of crosses I'd given her. They chimed when she set them on the counter.

  This was one of those times when I hated being right.

  "Goddamn it, Alice. I liked you! Why'd you have to turn out to be such a bitch?"

  The overly polite woman, the one who couldn't be mean to anyone's face, took command. "You don't have to be so angry," she said, with a righteous tilt to her chin.

  I wasn't finished. "If you hate me enough to kill small animals over it, don't turn around and pretend to be nice to me. Honestly, I prefer Joe here with his gun pointed at me. At least I know where I stand with him!"

  Joe blinked at me over the stock of his rifle, like he was unable to process the rather backhanded compliment.

  Marks said, "Joe, why don't you put that thing away." Joe obeyed and slowly lowered the weapon.

  "I don't hate you," Alice said softly. "I just don't want you to live here." Her thin-lipped grimace was almost apologetic.

  I didn't even know where to start. Maybe she wanted me to sympathize. Maybe she wanted me to feel sorry for her. Instead, the rage flared even higher. I had to pause a moment, take a breath, and think happy vegetarian thoughts before I growled for real. What had I told Ben about holding it in taking practice? I was getting a lot of practice right now.

  Finally, I said, "Guess what? You don't get to tell me where to live."

  She looked away.

  Tony stepped up then, sweeping away the tension with his presence. "You know what you did wrong, don't you?" He addressed Alice.

  "Who are you?" she asked.

  "Tony. You know what you did wrong?"

  She shook her head, hesitant, still full of that befuddled rabbit look.

  "The cross on the doorway," Tony said, gesturing back to where Alice had hung a cross above the door. "The barrier of crosses. They're supposed to prevent evil from crossing, yes? Keep evil contained, keep it from intrud­ing." He waited for her to nod, to acknowledge what he said. "Kitty's not evil. I've only known her half a day and I know that."

  He said "evil" and I almost heard "dangerous." As in, "She's not dangerous. She's harmless." I had an inexpli­cable urge to argue, but Tony kept talking.

  "She may have danger and darkness in her nature, but so do we all. That isn't evil. Evil is seeking out the dark­ness, seeking out the pain of others."

  I glanced back at Ben, to make sure he'd heard. That was what I'd been trying to tell him. He looked at me, gave a tiny smile. Yes, he'd heard.

  "Is it true what Sheriff Marks said, that our spell caused what's been happening to the cattle?"

  "Your spell called out to evil. You may have drawn it here, yes."

  She rubbed her face—wiping away sudden tears, springing from reddening eyes. "I'm so sorry. I thought I knew what I was doing, I was sure I knew—I have to fix it. How do I fix it?"

  "Apologizing is always a good start," Tony said.

  Alice looked at me, and for a moment I did feel sorry for her. She obviously felt so badly, and so tortured when the true consequences of what she'd done sunk in, I didn't want to be angry at her anymore. The words—Oh, it's allright, just as long as she never does it again —were on the tip of my tongue.

  But the Wolf in me shifted testily. And you know, she was right. Alice wasn't going to get off that easily. I waited for the apology.

  "I'm sorry, Kitty," she said. "I'm sorry for all the troubl
e."

  You 'd better be… "Thank you," I said instead.

  "I think I can help clean all this up," Tony said. "There's a ritual I know, it'll clear away the curse. Heal some of the bad feelings. Will you all help?"

  He looked at each of us, and we all nodded. Even Joe.

  "Good," he said. "Be at Kitty's cabin at twilight, about five o'clock. We'll get this taken care of. Oh—and I'll take those. Thanks." Smiling amiably, he grabbed the bag of crosses off the counter.

  We left the store, Tony bringing up the rear, almost like he was herding us. Or keeping me from lingering and doing something stupid. Within minutes, we were in the car and back on the road.

  "Cormac wanted me to have those melted down," I said, nodding at the bag of crosses in his lap.

  "That'd work, but I was just going to hold them under running water."

  "You mean that's all we had to do?" I shook my head. The more I learned…

  He said, "I'm curious where Alice learned her magic. If she was raised in some kind of tradition—healer or witch­craft or something—or if she got those spells out of a book somewhere. That's the trouble with you white people, you read something out of a book, you think you understand it. This kind of magic, though—you really have to live with it to know it."

  That reminded me of learning a language, how really learning it requires living it, speaking with native speak­ers, growing up with it—total immersion. Repeating vocabulary words in high school wasn't going to cut it.

  I said, "I can assure you, everything I know about the supernatural I've lived with personally." That didn't mean I understood any of it.

  Tony laughed. "I believe you."

  From the backseat, Ben said, "You really think what they did caused what happened to the cattle? What about what we saw in New Mexico?"

  "Maybe what Alice and them did drew it here," Tony said.

  "Or did it follow Cormac?" I said.

  That left us with an ominous silence. Because it made sense. There'd been two of them. Cormac killed one, and the other followed him, seeking revenge. Only Cormac wasn't here anymore. So it went wild, killing, like it had before.