“Dissention in the ranks,” Ben said. “We ought to be happy. Maybe the Long Game isn’t as far along as we thought.”
Cormac said, “In case you didn’t notice, if this was a sign of dissention, Roman pretty much quashed it. Him and that demon.”
What all this suggested to me: not only was the Long Game far along, Roman was getting ready for the home stretch, weeding out his own ranks. Our attempt at an end run had failed. And if Roman really was focused on stopping his opposition—
“We have to get back home,” I said. “Right now.”
Chapter 7
FIRST THING, I called Shaun, and got sent straight to voice mail.
“Shaun, call me, it’s important.” I sent a couple of texts for good measure. I called New Moon next, even though it was after closing and no one would be there. I left the same message.
Ben and Cormac had ordered a plate of bacon, but I wasn’t hungry. I nibbled on the same piece because it was something to do.
“He’s probably gone to bed,” Ben reassured me. “Turned off his phone for the night.”
“He doesn’t usually turn off his phone.”
“I’m sure he’s okay,” he said.
“We really need to get going,” I insisted. Cormac didn’t say anything.
Ben stopped me from calling Cheryl. She was probably fine, he kept saying, and wouldn’t appreciate being woken up at this hour.
However, it was a perfect time to call the vampires.
Angelo wasn’t answering his phone, either. Trouble was, I didn’t know if that meant something was wrong, or if he was just ignoring me. Surely as tense as things had gotten, he wouldn’t just ignore me.
Hardin called—Tina was patched up. We drove over to meet them in the parking lot of the urgent care. Tina looked awful, a bandage over her face, a splint on her nose, arm in a sling. She moved slowly.
“Are you okay?” I asked. Why did we only ever ask that question when things were clearly not okay? A bit wobbly, she leaned on the trunk of the sedan.
“Oh yeah, few weeks it’ll all heal. I got some of the good drugs.” She tried a weak, sleepy smile. Her voice was muffled, nasal, from the bandages. And the drugs, probably.
Hardin announced the litany: “Five stitches on the forehead, cracked nose, dislocated shoulder, and a couple of cracked ribs. No concussion, thank goodness. I keep telling her the appropriate response to questions is, ‘You should see the other guy.’”
And this was why we shouldn’t have dragged a normal, nonsupernaturally strong, untrained person into this. “I’m really sorry. I never should have asked you to come—”
“I offered,” Tina said. “I had a choice. It could have happened to any of us. Kitty, it’s okay. Don’t apologize.”
I’d keep apologizing forever and it wouldn’t be enough.
“We’re heading back to Denver,” I said. “Right now. I’m worried Roman’s going to take the fight back home.”
“What exactly are you expecting to happen?” Hardin asked.
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be worried,” I said. Roman was on the move. Mercedes was on the move, or at least she had been. That demon—Ashtoreth—was out and about. We must have kicked over someone’s sand castle to get that reaction.
I wanted to be home, to brace for whatever happened next. Roman always kicked back.
Of course, getting back home “right now” involved a seven-hour drive on no sleep. I argued with myself—maybe we should stop, hole up in a hotel room, get some rest before leaving. Surely everything would be okay.
But I called Shaun again, and he still wasn’t answering. I scrolled through the contacts list on my phone. I knew a lot of people. Usually that gave me a warm happy feeling. I had friends, a support network. Right now, though, I’d put every single one of those people at risk.
Hardin declared that she would drive the sedan, with Tina resting in the backseat. They could travel at an easy pace and stop if they needed to. Ben, Cormac, and I would speed back in the Jeep. Our pack of three.
Before we left, Hardin called her department. She walked a little ways out and I only heard her half of the conversation, but when she returned, she seemed confident.
“I’ve got a note to the patrol cars,” she said. “They’re keeping a lookout; they’ll let me know if they see anything funny.”
I sighed, relieved. Allies. Everything was going to be fine. I was probably freaking out over nothing. We weren’t important or dangerous enough for Roman to want to strike back at. Yeah, right.
* * *
CORMAC DROVE, Ben rode in the passenger seat, and I was crammed into the tiny back, along with crates and containers filled with who knew what arcane gear. Maybe just road flares and a spare tire kit. What did I know? A few hours into the trip, crossing into Colorado and still heading north, dawn broke, and I called Cheryl.
“Kitty, what is it?” she said, and I melted with relief. Finally, someone answered their phone. She sounded awake, but tired. I probably should have checked the time first, but she’d be up—she had kids, right?
“Hey, Cheryl, is everything okay? Like, with you and Mom and Dad and everyone?”
Now she sounded confused. “Um, yeah? Except Nicky got detention yesterday. Nine-year-olds shouldn’t be getting detention.”
My brow furrowed. Well, that was a distraction. “What did she do?”
“Near as I can figure, she started a fight with a kid who was flipping girls’ skirts up with a stick at recess.”
Did that kind of thing actually happen? “Huh. Good for her, I say.”
“I know, right? That’s what I told the principal.”
“At least tell me the skirt flipper got detention, too.”
“Yes. That’s the only reason I’m not going nuclear on them.”
“Well, I say give her a cape and a mask and let her go. But other than that there’s nothing … weird going on, right? No strangers lurking around, no bad vibes.”
“No?” she said, but didn’t sound sure. Probably because I didn’t know what the hell I was talking about.
“Okay. Will you call me if you see anything, you know, weird?”
“Like werewolf weird?” she said.
“Yeah, I think.” Time to wrap this up before I scared her. “Sorry. Gotta run. Love you.”
“Okay, you, too—”
I clicked off, then called Shaun again. Still no answer. I tried Becky next. She was another longtime member of our pack, a tough woman I could usually count on to know what was up.
No answer.
I left a message, sent a text, then tried another of the werewolves. The numbers for everyone in my pack were on my phone, and I went down the whole list. No one answered, no one texted back. Maybe everyone was having a hoedown while the alphas were away. Then I tried New Moon again. Still no answer. I had to consciously slow down my breathing.
“Kitty?” Ben murmured. He’d been napping in the Jeep’s passenger seat.
“Nobody’s answering. New Moon isn’t answering. There’s something wrong.”
“There’s a logical explanation.” His sureness was forced. “Maybe you just caught everyone at a bad time. What is it, six in the morning?”
Almost everyone kept phones nearby. Someone would answer, even at the crack of dawn.
Cormac glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “We’re still two hours out of Denver; we can’t do anything about it right now. Just hold on.”
Ben reached back and held my hand. “I’m sure there’s a logical reason why no one’s answering their phones.”
“I can think of several,” I said flatly. “All bad.” I squeezed his hand back. The touch helped.
When my phone rang about a half an hour later, I jumped, flinching so hard I banged my knees on the back of the front seats. Hardly noticed, because I was too busy grabbing my phone, looking to see who had finally called back. Shaun, I hoped.
Caller ID said Detective Hardin. The other car had fallen an hour or two behind us. Tin
a was hopped up on painkillers and they were taking it slowly to avoid her getting motion sickness. I answered, hoping she hadn’t gotten seriously sick.
“Detective, what is it?” I asked, gripping the phone hard enough my fingers hurt.
She took a deep breath. I imagined that was the same kind of deep breath she took before telling someone their loved one had been in an accident. “Kitty. I just got a call from one of the patrol officers.”
“Something happened,” I said simply. It couldn’t be anything else.
She said, “There’s been a fire at New Moon.”
Chapter 8
IT HAD to have been more than a fire, the way one of the brick walls was blown out. There must have been an explosion. Debris fanned out, and the remaining structure looked like it had had a bite taken out of it. Inside was gutted, blackened, covered in ash. Smashed glass and shards of wood and metal had settled like a postapocalyptic snow. Furniture was in shambles. The air smelled smoky and sour, the reek of soot settling in the back of my throat. If I started coughing, I’d never stop. The New Moon sign, simple letters with a painted crescent moon, had disappeared—fallen, destroyed. The place didn’t have a name anymore. It all seemed so stark in the sunlight.
We’d had a fire before, a couple of years ago. Tina and her Paradox PI crew had been there for that one. We’d been able to clean it up and reopen fairly quickly after. This—I didn’t think we’d be getting over this. This wasn’t a bar anymore, it was the set for a horror movie I wasn’t interested in seeing.
Something had destroyed my second home, my pack’s heart.
Fire trucks still surrounded the block, and the street was soaking wet from the work of the hoses and fire retardant. A handful of firefighters continued working, tromping through the ruins, looking for hot spots, or just making sure it was all well and truly destroyed. Yellow caution tape surrounded the site some thirty feet out from the building. Bystanders stood beyond, gawking, taking pictures. I wanted to chase them out of my territory. I wanted to howl to the skies.
Ben, Cormac, and I stood together, staring. We’d gotten through the cordon set up by the fire trucks when Ben explained that we were the owners. After parking as near as we could, we walked, my mind a blank because how could I know what to expect? No matter what, the reality would look worse than anything my imagination could cook up.
After a minute of staring, I turned around, took a deep breath, and gave a shuddering sigh. I could get through this. I had to get through this. Without a word, Ben wrapped his arms around me, pulled me close, and I clung to him. We stood like that for a long time.
Ben found the firefighter in charge. He introduced himself—Captain Allan—and offered condolences.
“No one was hurt,” he said. “We think it happened in the early morning hours, around 4 a.m., after everyone had gone home. No one was inside when it happened, fortunately.”
“Good, thank goodness,” I murmured. Because if anyone, if Shaun, if any of the pack had been in there … Werewolves were tough, but they didn’t survive being at ground zero of explosions.
I thought back, plowed through my scrambling thoughts. By 4 a.m. we’d left Albuquerque, and enough time had passed for a certain demon to zap herself from Albuquerque to Denver. Or for someone like Roman to pass along a message, to enact some kind of revenge.
“We’re still looking into the cause, but that fire burned very hot. That indicates some kind of accelerant. This may be arson. You know of anyone who might want to hurt you by burning your place, Ms. Norville?”
I laughed. I just laughed, hand over my mouth, tears streaming. The captain didn’t seem at all surprised—he was probably used to people cracking.
Ben stayed calm, put his arm around my shoulders, anchored me. Explained, in a calm and lawyerlike manner, “She hosts a talk radio show that attracts fringe types. There’s a pretty long list of people who might do something like this.”
From the start of the show, I’d kept a folder of threats I’d received, for just this kind of situation. But I was pretty sure the attack didn’t come from someone in that folder. What would the captain do if I mentioned demons from hell?
Allan was still talking, and Ben seemed to be listening attentively. Stuff about paperwork and insurance claims and what would happen next and making sure they had contact info. Logistics-type stuff. I’d gone back to numb. This was just a building, just a thing. An important thing, but the problem of what to do with it would still be here tomorrow.
Shaun and the rest of the pack still weren’t answering their phones. That was a bigger problem right now. Usually, New Moon smelled like pack, a wild scent of wind, pines, granite, a mix of wolf and people, distinct and familiar. All I smelled now was the fire.
The pack hadn’t been here when the place went up, and that was good. But where were they?
The fire captain was about to turn back to his work, but I stopped him. “Captain Allan, is it okay if I take a walk around?”
“It’s not safe to go inside, but if you stay away from the walls, then go ahead.” He smiled kindly, if tiredly. My request must have been normal. It boggled me to think how much he must have had to deal with people in my situation.
Before I started my trek around the ruins, Detective Hardin called to say she was taking Tina straight to our place. That was good—Tina had slept for most of the trip and was still out of it.
“How bad is it?” Hardin asked.
I didn’t know how to put it into words. I had the phone to my ear, staring at the ruins, and felt like I was watching a movie happening to someone else.
“It’s gone,” I said. “It’s all gone.” My voice was flat.
“I’m sorry, Kitty,” she said—kind, sympathetic. Maybe the nicest I’d ever heard her.
“Thanks,” I murmured, and we hung up.
The air smelled awful, of burned plastic and ashes. I’d never scrub the smell out of my nose.
“What do you think?” Ben asked. Cormac and I were standing next to him; he was talking to both of us.
“Real fishy,” Cormac said. “But I don’t think the plan’s changed. You want to find out who did this, my money’s on Roman. And that demon. Wouldn’t have taken much—sabotage the gas line, some kind of gasoline bomb.”
Ben sighed. “Right. Maybe the investigators’ll turn up something interesting.”
“I’ll be back in a minute,” I said, moving off, keeping my gaze on the wreckage of the building, like it was another predator and I was waiting to see which way it would jump.
I stepped slowly, breathed calmly, searching for—I didn’t know what. I didn’t know enough about explosives or fire-starting techniques to think I’d be able to smell anything under all the ash. I hadn’t had enough experience to develop a catalog of those smells. It couldn’t hurt to try, to see if anything jumped out. But mostly, I wanted to say good-bye. File this spot into my memory before walking away.
On the side of the building that looked like it had been blown out, I thought I smelled brimstone. Just a whiff, like the exhaust of a car that had backfired a block away, or the rubber from a squealing tire. Might have been my imagination. But I could see her, Ashtoreth, one of her storms blazing around her, powerful enough to knock down walls, blowing gas lines and leaving fire in her wake.
We had to figure out how to stop her. Not just banish her, not drive her off. Stop her. She’d appear again, and next time, I wanted to be ready. Like Cormac said, the plan hadn’t changed.
I continued to the back of the building and swung around to the front again, where I spotted two men standing just outside the caution tape. They didn’t look like the rest of the gawkers, and they didn’t seem to be acting like investigators, even though they wore dark suits and sunglasses and seemed very official and government-like. They were the same height; one was a white guy with brown hair, the other had olive skin, black hair, short and curly. Their frowning made them seem old. I tried to get a scent off them, but the burning smell was too overpowering
.
Because of the sunglasses I couldn’t tell if they noticed me staring at them. I stopped, surprised and somehow drawn to their incongruous presence. Were they cops? Insurance adjusters? One of them leaned in to murmur at the other, and they seemed to give the building one last look-over before turning to walk away. I frowned. I’d been about to go up and talk to them. I was maybe a little sensitive about strange Men in Black poking around.
Eventually, I made my way to the front of what used to be New Moon. The fire captain shook hands with Ben, gave me a sympathetic smile, and walked away. Cormac was standing back, arms crossed, frowning.
Ben put an arm around me, and I slipped easily into his embrace. “He thinks the building’s a complete loss. Insurance should cover us, financially at least.” We only leased the building. Technically, that wasn’t our problem. But it was going to be a mess to sort out.
“I can’t think of what to do about that right now,” I said. “If I think about it I’ll start crying.” Rubbed my face again, took another deep breath. Moving on. “This happened in the middle of the night. Angelo must know something. If Roman or one of his people is in town causing trouble, Angelo should know—”
“He’ll be asleep,” Ben said. “We can’t ask him until nightfall.”
I wasn’t going to sit around on my ass for the next few hours until dark. “Then in the meantime we need to figure out what’s up with Shaun and the others.”
Something had very decisively destroyed New Moon, the pack’s human center. Had it also gone after the pack? My shock and grief were falling away, and fury rose up to replace them.
* * *
SHAUN AND the others still hadn’t called back.
We hadn’t picked up the pack’s fresh scent at the remains of New Moon—none of them had been here since closing time. We had to find their scent somewhere else. And follow it. Before heading out, we took Cormac’s Jeep back to his place to finish out the round of musical cars. After dropping off Tina, Hardin had returned here to trade Ben’s sedan for her own.