Kitty's Big Trouble

He turned away from me. I’d been surveyed, and I wasn’t a threat, apparently. I was sorry I’d missed what he’d said to Cormac before we got here.

  “Where were we? Right. Anastasia, you’re back after what, eighty, ninety years? I’d wondered what happened to you. You left so quickly after the coup.”

  Anastasia said, “I didn’t see a need to stay. You didn’t need my help—at least not anymore.”

  He opened his hands in agreement. “Begs the question, though—why are you back?”

  “I’m here on an entirely unrelated matter.”

  “Still, the last time you were in San Francisco, you helped stage a coup against the former Master.”

  “That’s not what happened and you know it.”

  “All I know is you do things to suit yourself and no one else. You could have put yourself in charge here. You could have made yourself Mistress of a dozen cities the world over, collected all that power, but what do you do instead? You meddle and move on. What’s the story now?”

  What do you know—we had the same opinion about Anastasia.

  “I wanted to see the old stomping grounds,” she said.

  “You could have called me for a tour.”

  “I didn’t want to trouble you.”

  “You were in Chinatown with a mercenary.” He gestured at Cormac. “What were you looking for? Or what did you already find and are trying to hide from me?”

  She strolled a quiet step forward on her heeled shoes. Her eyes narrowed, and she caught Boss’s gaze. “Nothing you need to bother with,” she said softly.

  He straightened, leaning back to regard her, his brow furrowed. The other vampires were frowning now, looking back and forth between their Master and the stranger.

  Maybe Ben and Cormac and I could get the hell out of here while they had their standoff.

  “Anastasia,” Boss said, his voice low, threatening.

  We were wasting time, so I dropped into the conversation to tip the balance. “Roman is here,” I said.

  The mood snapped back. Boss blinked and looked away from Anastasia, at me. “Roman?” he said, much the way Henry had, as if I was muddying the waters on purpose.

  “Dux Bellorum,” Anastasia murmured.

  Well, that made the air go out of the room. Boss’s mouth opened—he even showed fangs. The male vampire companion gripped the arms of his chair and leaned forward. Joe stepped closer. All five of them looked shocked. Anastasia frowned at me.

  “Really?” Boss said. He shifted his gaze from me to Anastasia. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “This isn’t your battle,” she said.

  He raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “It isn’t? Because it’s your battle? Because you think you can handle him all by yourself?”

  “I know him,” she said with conviction.

  For once I wanted to keep quiet, because I wanted them to keep talking. I wanted to learn more. But nobody said anything.

  “How?” I said. “How do you know him?”

  She didn’t answer. What else wasn’t she telling me?

  Boss settled back into his seat and donned an air of calm, but he also looked sad. As if he was facing the inevitable; as if he’d faced it many times before. His expression was at odds with the offhand manner he’d shown so far. I bumped up my estimation of his age another hundred years. This guy had been around.

  When he spoke, he spoke to me. “My predecessor belonged to Dux Bellorum—Roman, I guess is as good a name as any. Some of us”—he gestured to his four colleagues—“didn’t like that she bound us to someone who wasn’t one of us. That she swore fealty to a Master outside the Family. We wanted our Family to be a family. Not some … platoon in someone else’s army.”

  Dux Bellorum was how Roman named himself, when he wasn’t being sneaky: the leader of war. The general.

  “We’re losing, Anastasia. In the last hundred years we’ve gained what, San Francisco? Denver? But how many cities have we lost? After you left I assumed you were out there, doing more of the same. Subverting his lieutenants, putting better Masters in their places. But I never heard a word. Meanwhile, Dux Bellorum has dozens of agents everywhere, all working to bring more cities in line.”

  “Agents,” I said. “Like Mercedes Cook?”

  “You know Mercedes?” Boss said.

  “She came through Denver a few years ago.” And instigated the war that brought Rick to power. She had intended for Rick’s predecessor to destroy him, but Rick was better than she expected. He’d surprised a lot of people that night.

  “Rick booted her out?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I always knew I liked that guy. You’re working for Rick?”

  “Rick is my friend. I’ve met Roman. If there’s a war coming, I won’t be on his side,” I said.

  “It’s been a long time since the werewolves had a leader step forward,” Boss said.

  I rolled my eyes and sighed with frustration. “I’m not leading the werewolves, I’m not working for anybody, I’m just trying to do what’s right.”

  “Then you’ve bitten off way more than you can chew, dear.”

  I growled under my breath. I was ready to get out of here. Ben licked my hand, comforting me. As long as we stuck together, things couldn’t be so bad.

  Boss turned to Anastasia. “So you’re here because Roman is here. Is my Family, is our place controlling San Francisco, in danger?”

  “No,” Anastasia. “I’d have come straight to you if that were the case, I swear it.”

  “Then…” He gestured, indicating that she should continue.

  “There’s an artifact in Chinatown. The Dragon’s Pearl. Roman is looking for it. I need to find it first. He can’t be allowed to have it; it’s too powerful. This is bigger than you, or your Family, or San Francisco.”

  “You should have come to me anyway, Anastasia. The city’s changed since you were here. I can help you.”

  “You can’t defeat Roman,” she said.

  He chuckled. “No, of course not. But I can protect San Francisco. It’s what I’ve promised, it’s what I’m able to do. Roman won’t find a foothold here. Maybe I can help you find this pearl of yours, since when the boys found you none of you looked like you were doing too well.”

  Anastasia was stubborn. Her dignity was like armor. I had to wonder if she just didn’t like other vampires all that much. At least, the ones she didn’t create herself.

  “Ask him about Grace,” I said to her. “It can’t hurt.”

  Sighing, she nodded. “There’s a young woman, a magician named Grace Chen. She was helping us before we ran into some of Roman’s soldiers. We don’t know where she is now, and I need her to find the Dragon’s Pearl.”

  “You want me to find her?” Boss said.

  “If you can.”

  “I’d be happy to help you, Anastasia,” he said, opening his arms. “Give us a couple of hours.”

  “It’s only a few more hours until dawn,” Anastasia said.

  “It’s the best I can do. Feel free to wait here. Make yourselves at home.” He stood, and his companions stood with him, flanking him. Boss waved at Henry. “You stay, keep an eye on things.” Henry nodded, straightened, and stood solid as a tree, his hands crossed before him in a clear bodyguard posture. The posse departed, leaving the room quiet.

  Were we trapped? Prisoners? Could we leave? Was there a shower somewhere? A bathroom maybe? Anastasia wasn’t offering commentary. She seemed to be focused inward, stewing. Cormac was in “wait-and-watch” mode. Since they weren’t saying anything, I wanted to talk to Ben, who couldn’t talk. I rubbed his fur, and he leaned into my good leg.

  Henry it was, then. “Are you here to guard us or to play host?”

  “A little of both. Boss doesn’t trust you not to poke around where you shouldn’t.”

  “He could have just asked.”

  Henry only smiled.

  “So. Do you have any Janis Joplin bootlegs?”

  He chuckled quietly. “The rarest bo
otleg’ll never be as good as the real thing, live and in person. She was one of a kind.”

  “Well, yeah. But … do you?”

  Still chuckling, he waved me off, refusing to answer, which was as good as yes in my mind. Arrogant vampires …

  That left us sitting around the living-room-slash-audience hall, waiting. Anastasia settled into an armchair. Crossing her arms, she stared at Henry, who crossed his arms and avoided looking at her. I chose a padded chair and stretched my leg out. In all the excitement, I hadn’t noticed that the pain had almost faded. Now, my whole leg and side just ached horribly.

  Cormac paced over and loomed. “You okay?”

  “You keep asking that.”

  “I don’t like this,” he said. “We need to get out of town while we can.”

  “I know, but I want to make sure Grace’s okay. And I’ll stick around if it means getting to take out Roman.”

  “With everything you’ve told me about the bastard I’m inclined to agree.”

  “If you see an opening, take it.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Ben left my side and padded to the corner, where he turned in a couple of circles, lay down, and curled into a tight ball, paws tucked in, tail resting over his nose. He finally felt safe enough to sleep. Or at least, to try to sleep. He still didn’t look particularly comfortable.

  I leveraged myself out of the chair and went to join him, settling on the floor and resting my hand on his back. He snuggled closer to me.

  Cormac said, “I’ll keep an eye out.”

  Then Ben seemed to relax.

  I dozed, leaning against the wall, my arms draped over Ben, fingers laced in his fur. When he moved against me, I awoke and drew away as the fur under my touch thinned and shrank. I watched Ben come back to me.

  Cormac said he’d keep watch, but he turned away when Ben started to shift back, when the fur faded and vanished, his skin stretched and bones melted into new shapes. It happened slowly, bit by bit. The Change back to human was like a sunrise—the sky paled, paled some more. Then—suddenly, you’d swear—it was daytime. Ben, naked and chilled, lay curled up, head and shoulders tucked into my lap, arms and legs pulled protectively close.

  I stayed still, quiet, letting him sleep. Absently, I touched his ruffled hair, smoothing it behind his ear.

  When he was human again, Henry came over with a blanket. He kept his distance, holding it out as an offering, taking care not to startle Ben by getting too close, for which I was grateful. I took the blanket from him and spread it over Ben.

  The others left us alone, and we waited.

  After a time, Ben tensed—I felt his muscles tighten against my leg. His nose flared, and he flinched awake, sitting up. I waited for him to gain his bearings, to get the scent of the place, to settle. It only took a second.

  He looked at me. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  I fell against him and we kissed. His arms closed tight around me and I pressed myself to him while our lips worked, hungry for each other’s taste. I wanted to rub myself all over his skin, taking in his warmth, his scent.

  “Werewolves are all about instinct, emotion. They’re so full of passion. Makes them fascinating, don’t you think?” Boss had returned, regarding us from the doorway. He seemed to be speaking to Anastasia, conspiratorial, as if this was a long-running vampire joke.

  Most vampires annoyed me because I didn’t know their ages. But to not even tell me his name? It was typical. Rick hadn’t been born with that name, Roman was an acquired name, and I really doubted that Anastasia was her original name, either. They’d reinvented themselves, like shedding old skins, when they became vampires. They could choose their identities, because who from their old lives was around to remember? To call out the inventions?

  I tried to imagine Anastasia as a young woman, a child, eager instead of calculating and obsessed. And I couldn’t.

  Joe was with Boss, and between them stood Grace Chen. Mission successful.

  I rested my forehead against Ben’s shoulder and sighed. For just a moment, I’d been able to forget about everything, everyone, but him. We’d had our own little sphere of perfection, however fleeting. Ben kissed the top of my head and kept his arms around me, holding me close. Yeah, we could stay like that for a while longer.

  “Are you okay?” I whispered, trying to keep the conversation between us.

  His breath ruffled my hair, which felt marvelous, comforting. I reveled in the smell of him. “I’m feeling kind of stupid. I lost it. Completely.”

  Obviously. “Why? You got through two fights without losing it. What happened?”

  “When you didn’t answer, I panicked. I didn’t know what to do—so I lost it.”

  “And came looking for me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s sweet, you know.”

  “I’m glad you think so.” We kissed again, a reassuring touch of lips. “What about you? You’re hurt, your leg—” He put his hand on my right hip, which twinged at the touch. But I held his hand there, not wanting him to move.

  “I fell,” I said. “Broke something, I think.”

  “But you’re okay? It healed?”

  “It’s taking awhile, but yeah, I think so.”

  “We have to get out of here,” he said.

  “Yeah. But we can’t, not yet.”

  “I know.”

  I nestled closer in his embrace, finally feeling strong enough to deal with the situation outside.

  Boss was still grinning at us like he thought we were cute. Cormac was back to standing guard. He didn’t particularly look like he was standing guard, but he’d put himself between the two of us—huddled on the floor, vulnerable—and the rest of the gathering. The arrangement suggested us against them.

  Anastasia was talking to Grace.

  “I didn’t count on any of this!” the young magician said.

  “Your family understood what was asked of them—”

  “That was hundreds of years ago! What do you expect me to do? I wasn’t going to stick around and try to fight monsters. I can’t do that.”

  “Do you honor your ancestors or not? We’ve lost time, it may be too late.”

  “I have to butt in,” I murmured to Ben, extricating myself from his embrace, as much as it pained me to do so.

  “Of course you do,” he said, his smile turning crooked. He wrapped the blanket firmly around him after my departure. Which was a shame. If we’d been alone I’d have stripped down to join him. Later …

  “Anastasia, chill out,” I said. “She did the right thing when she ran.” Both Anastasia and Boss arced brows at me, as if surprised by my interruption. I hoped they were impressed by my assertiveness. “Roman’s here. But he doesn’t have the pearl or those werewolves wouldn’t have been asking us for it. So we still have a chance of finding it. Don’t we?”

  Anastasia set her mouth in a frown—grim and hopeless. She didn’t think there was a chance.

  “Grace,” Cormac said. Everyone looked at him, startled. He was quiet enough most of the time that he almost blended into the background. That was exactly how he planned it. “I might be able to work out a way to search for it, but I don’t know what it is, what it looks like. If you can give me something to look for, we might be able to find it.”

  The young woman raised her arms in a gesture that was half pleading, half frustration. “Have any of you considered that if this terrible Roman guy doesn’t have it, and we don’t have it, then someone else got to it first—someone who put the huli jing in a cage? Someone more powerful than any of us? You really want to go after that?”

  Anastasia frowned. “If you had not failed in your duty to your ancestors—”

  Grace put her hands over her ears. “Oh, stop with that, please! You sound like my grandmother!”

  Taken aback, Anastasia pursed her lips.

  “Grace,” Cormac said again. “You think we can do this?”

  Deflating, she fidgeted, taking off her glasses, wiping the
m on the hem of her shirt, putting them on and glaring through them, giving the vampires surly glances. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “We’ll need some space and quiet,” Cormac said to Boss.

  “Can we watch?” he asked.

  “Sure. Long as you’re quiet.”

  “This way, then.” He started toward the other side of the room, where a door stood.

  Ben got to his feet, keeping the blanket wrapped modestly around his waist. The look was kind of cute, showing off his lean body. I had an urge to pull his hand away so that the blanket dropped …

  “I could use some clothes,” he said.

  Cormac reached to the floor behind one of the chairs and produced several items of clothing, stacked and folded—and Ben’s battered semiautomatic. And that answered the question of whether he’d been searched. Boss and company obviously didn’t think we were much of a threat. It was almost insulting.

  “I picked up what you dropped. Some of it’s kind of mangled.” He handed the stack to Ben.

  “You shouldn’t even be holding this thing.” Ben gestured at the gun.

  Cormac shrugged him off. “Won’t happen again. I thought you might need it.”

  “For all the good it’s done so far. Anyway. Thanks.” He set the gun on a table and surveyed the clothing.

  “It’d be nice if you could avoid that sort of thing from now on.”

  “I’ll put that on the list: ‘Don’t lose your shit.’ Then you won’t have to use those silver knives of yours on me.”

  “I wouldn’t—”

  Ben pointed. “You would if you had to.”

  Cormac looked away. So did Ben. I wondered if I should shove in between them to keep from saying anything else—something either one of them would regret.

  “Sorry,” Ben said finally. “I’ll try to keep from freaking out too badly from now on.”

  Cormac shrugged him off and headed to the doors. “Let’s see that room.”

  Boss led the way, and the others followed, leaving us alone for a moment, and I was grateful. Ben handed me the pile of clothes, taking the shirt off the top and holding it up. Sure enough, the I ESCAPED ALCATRAZ shirt was ripped at the seams, Incredible Hulk–like, as a result of Ben tearing it off rather than bothering with conventional removal. Not to mention all the blood soaked into it from the earlier fight. It showed up even against the black. We’d all had a hell of a night, hadn’t we?