Kitty's Big Trouble

  “Why the hell would we want to take over Dodge City, Kansas?” Ben said.

  Mike and Dan didn’t answer, because Ben had a point. Instead, Dan nodded at Cormac. “And who are you? You’re not a werewolf.”

  “Nope,” Cormac said. “I’m just along for the ride.”

  Dan looked at us, disbelieving. We must have made a strange picture.

  “Look, seriously, I’m really sorry if we freaked you out,” I said. “We have rooms in a hotel on the other side of town, but if you don’t want us here, say so, and we’ll just … we’ll just…” Oh God. I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

  “Get the hell out of Dodge?” Dan said, raising his eyebrows.

  I shrugged. Ben was holding his forehead like he had a headache.

  “No offense,” Dan said. “But I’d feel better if you weren’t anywhere within a hundred miles of here.”

  There wasn’t much of anything within a hundred miles of here. Leaving would mean driving all night. But staying meant picking on these guys, which didn’t feel particularly productive or necessary.

  “All right. We’ll leave. Thanks for understanding,” I said. I waved at the guys, and we headed for the car. Dan and Mike stepped out of the way.

  Then the pair had a brief, whispered conference. Dan still looked sullen, but Mike was bouncing. Dan gave a frustrated shrug, throwing his arms up and stalking away, and Mike turned to me. He really was bouncing, his eyes alight. Confused, I regarded him until he slunk toward me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I really don’t mean to bother you. But—could I get your autograph?”

  * * *

  MIKE GOT his autograph on a piece of scratch paper, and then we were driving west, looking for a hotel that wasn’t within a hundred miles of Dodge City. I’d been looking forward to a hot, cleansing shower at the hotel. I itched, and every time I scratched, a fine powder of ash rose up from me. I pulled out my ponytail, shook my hair, and created a cloud of dust. Ben, who was driving, sneezed.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  “Don’t apologize,” he said. “The whole thing’s pretty funny when you think about it.” He was smirking. I couldn’t tell if he was laughing at the situation or at me.

  “I’m trying not to think too hard about it,” I said.

  From the backseat Cormac said, “We probably could have just checked into the hotel and those guys never would have known.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I told them we’d leave so we left.”

  “I’m just saying,” he said.

  “It’s too late to bitch about it now.” My phone rang, and I dug it out of my pocket and flipped it open. Someone calling at this hour of night could only have bad news. “Hello?”

  “Kitty. It’s Anastasia.”

  Bad news. Right. The hair on the back of my neck rose, tingling. I didn’t need this now.

  “Hi,” I said. Ben glanced at me, concerned at the sudden change in my tone of voice.

  “I need help.”

  “Is it Roman?”

  “Yes, it is,” Anastasia said. Her voice was hushed but not panicked, as if she was in hiding but not in immediate danger. Not that she’d stop to call if she was facing down Roman right now. At least, I hoped not.

  “What’s happening? Where is he? Where are you?”

  “San Francisco. When can you get here?”

  I blew out a breath. “Not for a while—I’m in a car in the middle of Kansas right now.”

  “Kansas?”

  “Never mind. Are you in trouble? What’s going on?”

  She took a deep breath, gathering air for a speech. “I’m safe for the moment. I’ve kept ahead of him. Roman is here looking for an artifact of immense power. I know where it is—I can get to it first. But he’s brought allies with him.”

  “You need foot soldiers, then,” I said, frowning. I wanted a chance to stop Roman, certainly. I didn’t really want to be cannon fodder.

  “I wouldn’t have called you if I didn’t think you could handle it,” she said, and maybe she believed that, and maybe she just wanted to use me as a decoy while she got the goods, this artifact. Which, I had to admit, made me curious. Immense power, huh?

  Cormac had shifted forward to lean in between the front seats, and Ben was glancing at me from the driver’s seat.

  “It’ll be a few days before I can get there,” I said.

  “He hasn’t moved yet,” Anastasia said. “If I have to do this on my own, I will, but I could use help. Should I wait for you?”

  Glancing at Ben and Cormac I said, “Let me call you back.” I clicked off the phone and put it away.

  “Well?” Ben said. “I heard ‘Roman’ and ‘help.’”

  “A terrible combination, isn’t it? So—do you want to go to San Francisco?”

  “And do what? Stand between two ancient, all-powerful vampires? Not particularly.”

  “You know how I feel about vampire politics,” Cormac said, grimacing.

  “This isn’t exactly vampire politics,” I said. “It’s bigger than that. I think.”

  Ben chuckled, but the sound was bitter. “So we run off on the next quest before the last one is even done. You keep getting us wrapped up in this shit, and you want to have kids? How would that work?”

  I sank back in the seat and glared out the window. “It’s a moot point anyway so why bring it up?”

  “There’s adoption. We’ve talked about this.”

  I didn’t want to talk about it. Not right now. Ben was making me face the question, yet again—did I have any business being a mother? How did someone be a mother and a crusader at the same time?

  If I had kids, would Roman come after them?

  “If I don’t go, who will? What happens the next time Roman decides to take us out?”

  Cormac shrugged. “This Roman character can’t be as badass as all that.”

  “Oh, I think he can,” Ben said.

  The hunter’s lip curled; he liked a challenge.

  “I’m just not sure I can actually help. What does Anastasia expect me to do, talk Roman into submission?”

  “You stood up to him once,” Ben said.

  That didn’t mean I wanted to stand up to him again. Once was enough. On the other hand, if Anastasia and I had a chance to stop him, I’d rush to San Francisco.

  “Amelia’s game,” Cormac said.

  “Does she get a vote?” I said.

  Cormac glared at me, but maybe it wasn’t Cormac doing the glaring. Yes, then.

  “This isn’t your fight, you don’t have to go,” I said.

  “Will Porter even let you go?” Ben said. “I know we got you a few days off for this, but San Francisco?” Porter was Cormac’s parole officer.

  “I’m a model student,” Cormac said. “He’ll let me.”

  I wondered sometimes if wizard Amelia had some kind of spell to put the whammy on Porter—he let Cormac get away with so much. But I wasn’t going to complain; I’d feel better with Cormac watching our backs. Not that I would necessarily say that out loud.

  Ben said, “We go to San Francisco, then. Check things out. But we get out of there the minute things go south.”

  “Too bad I don’t usually notice things have gone south until it’s too late to run,” I said.

  The silence I got in reply to that was a little too pointed.

  Chapter 3

  I CALLED ANASTASIA back and told her we’d be in San Francisco in a couple of days. She said she would manage until then—Roman hadn’t made his move yet, and she would keep out of sight until he did. We had enough time back in Denver to wrap up some details: Cormac checked in with his parole officer, Ben cleared some work with his law practice, I dropped in at the radio station and New Moon to remind them I was still alive. And I went to see Rick.

  Tonight, Rick was at Obsidian, the art and antique gallery he owned, where he made his headquarters. He and the dozen or so vampires in his Family slept out their days in the basement. I didn’t know if the
y actually used coffins, but I had it on good authority that coffins were optional and most vampires didn’t bother with the affectation.

  After parking the car behind the building, I went down the stairs and knocked on the unmarked steel door. I put on a surly attitude because I expected to have to argue with a flunky—one of Rick’s vampire underlings who acted as gatekeeper. Most of them had a thing against werewolves and didn’t understand why Rick was so friendly with me. The more stubborn they got, the more I had to bait them. We’d stand there calling each other names until Rick came along.

  There I stood, hands on hips, glaring at the door—which Rick himself opened. I blinked at him, my attitude blowing away like dandelion fluff.

  “I got your message,” he said. “Come in.”

  A minute later, we were sitting in Rick’s office, a large, comfortable, parlorlike room, with a desk, computer, and shelves cluttered with books and trinkets on one end, sofas and padded chairs on the other. Throw rugs on the worn hardwood floor and soft lighting made the place seem shockingly normal, unlike what I thought of when I thought of vampires. No pretension, no arrogance or attempts to intimidate, no showing off the collected wealth of centuries. Which was Rick all over, really.

  “Can I get you anything?” he asked.

  “No, I’m fine. I just have a couple of things I want to ask you about. First off, we found something in Kansas.” I pulled the old coin on its cord out of my jeans pocket and set it on his desk.

  He leaned forward and moved his hand toward it. “May I?”

  I gestured a yes. He held the object up to the light, studying it.

  “You ever see anything like it?” I asked.

  “Maybe. It looks a little like an old Roman coin.”

  I might have choked out a gasp, and Rick looked at me over the coin. I straightened, regaining some semblance of composure. “We found the burned-out homestead outside Dodge City. There was still one vampire left. He was wearing that.”

  “Really?” he said wonderingly. “The vampire—what kind of shape was he in?”

  “Terrible. I hardly recognized him as a vampire,” I said. “He’s gone, now.”

  Rick shook his head, making a small tsking noise. “Amazing.”

  I pointed at the artifact. “If that’s a Roman coin, you don’t think it has anything to do with Roman the vampire, do you?”

  He tilted his head, smiled. “The Roman empire was much bigger than Roman the vampire, Kitty. It might have just been a souvenir.”

  I didn’t want to admit that he was probably right. We found the vampire, the old stake, and this relic. It had to have some significance because the vampire had been wearing it all this time. “So it doesn’t mean anything? It’s just flotsam?”

  “If it means something, I’m not sure what,” he said.

  I sighed, disappointed. Maybe I thought I had another puzzle piece. Another clue in the mystery of the vampires’ tangle of allegiances. I put the coin back into my pocket. Maybe Anastasia would know something about it.

  “And now for the second thing?” Rick said, drawing me out of my thoughtfulness.

  I nodded. “Anastasia called me. She’s in San Francisco, facing down Roman and needs help.”

  “Ah, hence the flinch.”

  “I didn’t flinch.”

  He suppressed a smile. “And you’re going?”

  “Yeah. I want to check it out. She says Roman’s looking for this artifact—she actually used the phrase ‘immense power’ to describe it. We have to keep him from getting it.”

  I tried to read some emotion off him—was he shocked, wary, confident? What did he think? He seemed calm, mildly curious.

  “What do you need from me, then?” he said.

  “An opinion. I can’t help but wonder what she isn’t telling me,” I said. The last time I’d seen Anastasia, we’d been on the same side battling some particularly destructive enemies. We’d trusted each other because we didn’t have a choice. I trusted her now because I’d trusted her then. So what was I missing?

  Rick leaned back, lacing his fingers. “Here’s what I know about Anastasia. She’s older than I am. She came to this country sometime in the nineteenth century with the first wave of Chinese immigration, I imagine dodging some trouble in China but I don’t know exactly what. She rose through the ranks and became a trusted advisor of the then-Mistress of San Francisco. She controlled Chinatown for her, as I understand it. Then the situation completely unraveled.” He shrugged. “Vampire Families can remain stable for centuries. London’s had the same Master since the seventeenth century. But when they go, they can go quickly, spectacularly, and without any warning. San Francisco was like that.”

  “You were there for it?” I asked.

  “I saw bits and pieces. I tried not to get involved.” He winced a little—he’d spent centuries trying not to get involved, until a few years ago when he personally destroyed Denver’s previous Master and took over. Everyone had been surprised. It was one of those spectacular changeovers he was talking about.

  “Anastasia got out, of course. There was a lot of speculation—did she get out because she was afraid of the new management, or because she’d betrayed the old? Some people said she orchestrated the whole thing.”

  “But why? Wouldn’t she have stuck around, then?”

  “Her whole reason for going to San Francisco in the first place might have been to topple that Mistress and her Family. When her work was done, she packed up and moved on to her next project. The fact that she’s back now and in need of help suggests to me that she isn’t any more friendly with the current Family—she could just go to them for help.”

  “What can you tell me about them?”

  Rick said, “They’re a laid-back bunch, but don’t underestimate them. Behave yourself and they won’t give you any trouble. To tell you the truth, most of us were happy with the change in management.”

  I thought a moment, lips pursed, leaning my chin on my hand. “Roman must have brought werewolves with him. That’s why she needs me.” If he’d brought vampire minions, Anastasia could have depended on the local Family to oppose them.

  “Is there a local pack in San Francisco? What are they like?” he said.

  “Word has it the pack there is centered in Oakland and tends to stay out of San Francisco proper. Roman probably knows that.”

  Rick glanced away, chuckling.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “It’s the same old story. Both Roman and Anastasia bringing werewolves as hired muscle. Vampires as nobility and werewolves as peasant foot soldiers. The patterns are ingrained among the oldest of us and we keep falling into them.”

  That kind of thing made me angry. Made me mouth off when I ought to stay quiet. It almost made me look forward to the upcoming conflict.

  “That just means I have to stand up for myself, don’t I?”

  “I don’t see you having any trouble with that.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Any other advice?”

  “If you see Roman, get out,” he said.

  “That’s already on the agenda.” I figured if I actually saw Roman, it would already be too late.

  “Keep in mind that Anastasia is not the most powerful thing you might meet out there. If she and Roman are both after this artifact, that means it’s more powerful than both of them. Be careful.”

  “I’m not really all that interested in power,” I said.

  “That’s why those in power find you so interesting. They really don’t like rogue elements getting in the way of their plans.”

  “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

  “Do you know I was probably the only vampire in North America for about a century?”

  “Alette might have mentioned something along those lines. How the hell did that happen?”

  “It…” He paused, looking off to some distant time—some very distant time. “It’s a long story. But when the second wave of vampire immigrants arrived, they were a littl
e surprised to find me.”

  To be a fly on that wall. I could see it now, some kind of crazy Monty Python–like sketch with vampires going back and forth: “What are you doing here?” “I live here.” “But how can you? We’re the first vampires here.” “If you’re the first vampires here, then what am I?” And so on, until the skit ended with some kind of pratfall involving stakes.

  “Maybe I’ll tell you the whole story sometime.”

  “Rick, you have never told me the whole story. You just drop maddening hints.”

  “How about this: We’ll trade stories when you get back from San Francisco. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  I just had to be sure I came back with a lot of stories.

  Chapter 4

  TWO DAYS OF driving later, we checked into a lower-rent, unassuming motel in the middle of the city, off the tourist tracks. That was Cormac’s idea. He said we could come and go without drawing as much attention. I thought maybe he was just self-conscious about staying someplace with room service.

  I stood at the window of our room. It didn’t have much of a view, which was frustrating, because less than a mile away was water, San Francisco Bay, its famous bridges, and so on. All I saw were buildings and a busy street. The sky was bright but hazy. The temperature was surprisingly cool. So much for a California summer.

  We’d been sure to arrive during daylight hours so we could get our bearings before we had to face Anastasia after nightfall.

  “You ever been to San Francisco?” Ben asked. He drew close behind me, resting a hand on my hip, his cheek against my hair.

  “Nope,” I said. “I’m fighting an urge to run off and take the boat tour to Alcatraz.”

  “Let’s do that after we’ve figured out that Roman isn’t really here and we’re not in trouble.”

  “Roman can’t come out in daylight,” I argued, but the sense of foreboding lingered.

  “Yeah, but Roman has minions. I thought that’s why we’re here.”

  I drew his arms around me and hugged him close. “We’ll be careful.”

  A knock came at the door. We were expecting it, but Ben checked the peephole anyway before undoing the dead bolt, then the chain, and opening the door for Cormac, who was staying in the room next door.