Kitty Raises Hell

Chapter 8

It turned out you really could go to the butcher shop and get blood. It wasn’t easy—I had to call all over town to find one that could special order it from their slaughterhouse. But I found one that was willing—and they were certainly willing to charge me for it. I also got a couple of steaks to go along with the blood. Any excuse.

For the ruin, I went to where a set of 1920s townhouses was being—tragically, in my opinion—torn down to make way for high-priced lofts. I had always wondered what made a place a loft rather than an apartment or condo. I figured it had to be the outrageous price. Around back, the crews weren’t watching, so I was able to get to the roofless, half-knocked-in building and scoop up a bucketful of dirt and debris.

When I mixed the two ingredients, I ended up with a dark, sticky, smelly paste. Plaster of Paris from hell. The stuff reeked. I separated it out into a dozen mason jars, hoping it would be enough. I hadn’t realized how much I had to protect.

The first place I anointed was New Moon. The building was still intact, after all, even though the doors had yellow tape sealing them off and a sign from the fire department declaring that the building was awaiting inspection. I stared at the facade a long time. From the outside, no damage was visible. Lycanthropic vision was pretty good for seeing in the dark, so I peered through the window of the front door, searching the shadows. Tables and chairs were scattered. Puddles spotted the floor. Scorch marks streaked from the kitchen. I could smell soot, sulfur, brimstone. The Ouija board still lay there, abandoned.

I didn’t want to think about it any more than that.

I walked around the building clockwise, because for some reason these things were always done clockwise, using a spoon to dribble out spots of Egyptian blood potion. If this didn’t work, I’d look really silly. And if it did, how would I know? What if the thing didn’t attack us here again? Would the potion have protected us, or would it be a coincidence? I could begin to see how superstitions like this got started. If you got a hot date the one day you happened to be carrying a rabbit’s foot—well, why not?

But at least I was doing something.

Ben pulled up in his car just as I was finishing the bloody circle. He wore his “threw it on as I was leaving the house” look: rumpled trousers, rumpled shirt, brown jacket, hair brushed back from his face, obviously with his fingers. He smelled clean and showered.

“Hey!” I grinned at him as he came to meet me.

“Hey—oh, my God, what is that? Did you put that around the whole building?” His nose wrinkled, and he glared with disgust at the jar of bloody goo.

“It’s the dust of a ruin mixed with blood. Odysseus Grant’s protection spell. It’s supposed to keep nasty spirits away,” I said.

“I can see why—it’ll keep anything away. Gah!”

Sensitive werewolf noses. By this time, I’d gotten used to the reek.

“What brings you out here?” I said.

“I’m supposed to meet the investigator and insurance adjuster in half an hour. I have a feeling the insurance company is going to want to call it arson and fraud.”

“Arson! Are they kidding?”

He shrugged. “We were there when the fire started. And in a way, ‘weird-ass supernatural attack’ might be classified as arson.”

I groaned. “Great. That’s just great.”

“Don’t worry, I think we have the investigator on our side. He’s talking something about a gas leak igniting particulate matter in the air. A big whoosh with no outright boom. If the insurance company buys the explanation, we’re set.”

Another car, an old, small-size pickup, pulled up to the curb and parked behind Ben’s. My poor little burned-out building sure had a lot of visitors.

“Is that your investigator?” I said, even as I knew I was wrong, because I recognized the truck. It was Mick’s. Sure enough, Mick and Shaun got out. Both were frowning, walking with their shoulders bunched up, surly.

“Oh, this can’t be good,” I murmured. These were two of the pack’s strongest wolves, apart from me and Ben. In fact, in a straight-up fight, they were probably stronger. We were the alphas because they let us be. Because they trusted us.

“Hi, Shaun,” I said. “You’re in time to walk through with Ben and the investigator. You can see exactly what the damage is.”

He pressed his lips, nodded. Peered in through the front door like I had, searching, and I hoped the fact that not much was visible from here made him feel better. Shaun loved the place as much as I did. He’d picked out the name.

Mick didn’t stop staring at me. When Ben edged up to me, he stared at both of us. He had to know what that stare meant to our wolf sides.

“Is something wrong?” I said, my voice steady. I rounded my shoulders and stood straight. I didn’t want to have to do something as gauche as growl at him.

He shrugged, offhand, like nothing was wrong. “I just want to find out what you’re going to do to take care of this.”

I held up the jar of blood goo. “Protective spell. I’ve got extras in the car. I’ll give you some to take home with you.”

He and Shaun regarded it with the same disgusted, puckered expressions Ben had. The stuff did smell pretty vile. But once it was spread around the place, it wasn’t noticeable. Much.

“Are you kidding me?” Mick said, obviously not impressed. “I’m not smearing that crap anywhere near me.”

“I’m open to other suggestions,” I said.

Mick and Shaun glanced at each other, which made me even more nervous, because it meant they’d been talking about this beforehand. I was way too new at this alpha thing to be facing dissension in the ranks already. I wasn’t sure it would work, but I’d have to handle this the way I handled most everything in my life: brazen it out and act like I knew what I was doing.

I crossed my arms and waited for an answer.

“We go to Vegas,” Shaun said. He was fidgeting, just a little. Hands picking at the seams on his jeans, eyes darting, unable to look right at me. It made me think this was all Mick’s idea. “Go to the source. Take care of that pack directly.”

“Did you two come out here to tag-team me or what?” I said.

Shaun looked away at that, because I was right. Mick didn’t. He said, “Well? How about it?”

“I thought of going back to Vegas. Did you consider that they may want us to do exactly that? That it’s a trap? This is a cult that sacrifices werewolves. I don’t want any of us going within a hundred miles of there.”

Mick started in with more confidence, still staring at me like this was a challenge. “Then we hire someone to go there for us. Or we call the police.”

“And prove to the cops what’s happening, how?”

“I don’t know—you think of something, you know so much.”

“What, you don’t like my icky blood spell?” I dipped my finger into the mixture and pointed it at him. Maybe I could obnoxious him into submission.

“I’m worried, Kitty. I’m worried that you can’t handle this,” Mick said.

“You think someone else could handle it better?”

“I think if it wasn’t for you, this wouldn’t be happening.”

Ben, who had been standing behind my shoulder the whole time, studying the pair of them, sprang. Surprised the hell out of me. Out of all of us. Ben grabbed Mick’s T-shirt at the shoulders, wrapped it in his fists, spun him around, and shoved him to the brick wall of the building. Held them there. It was over before I could blink.

Ben’s teeth were bared. Mick’s eyes were wide, his feet working to try and scramble away. All his bravado vanished. Now he was scared. Ben was close enough—and seemed angry enough—to take a bite out of him.

I stared. “Wow. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Neither did I,” Ben said, his voice hoarse. His expression was taut, his whole body tense, and his wolf glared out of his eyes. He gave Mick one last shove, then stepped away, rolling his shoulders back, shivering almost. His breathing slowed. Mick backed away to stand next to Shaun.

I moved to Ben and squeezed his hand. Come back to me, I thought at him. I wanted him to be human, not wolf, right now. I wanted to work this out as human beings.

“I was really hoping we could have a pack where this sort of thing wouldn’t happen,” I said, sighing. New Moon was supposed to be the symbol of that. Peaceful cooperation. It was damaged, and look what happened.

“I’m sorry,” Mick said, not meeting my gaze, only glancing warily at Ben. “I didn’t mean for this to look like a challenge. But I’m worried.”

“Yeah,” I admitted, my voice soft. “But we’re working on it. We’ll figure this out. Tell everyone we’ll figure this out.”

Again, they glanced at each other. My hunch had been correct. They’d been talking to everyone in the pack. They, the toughest nonalpha males, had been appointed spokeswolves. And now they were backing down. Maybe I could do this job.

Shaun said, “How did you know we’ve been talking?”

“Female intuition,” I said. “I have to go meet with some paranormal investigators about this whole brouhaha. Will you guys be okay if I leave you alone?”

“Paranormal investigators?” Shaun said. Finally, he was smiling, at least a little. “So you really are working on this.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“We’ll be fine,” Ben said. I was confident he was right.

Ben walked me to my car.

“You okay?” I asked. I didn’t know how close we’d come to a fight back there. I didn’t really want to know. Ben was still tense.

“Yeah. It just came out of nowhere. I just couldn’t let them talk anymore. Or the wolf side couldn’t. Hard to explain.”

“Well, thanks,” I said. “I’m sure they’ll go back and tell everyone you’re way tougher than you look. They’ll be absolutely cringing around you from now on.”

“Funny. I’ve come to rely on your fast-talking us out of these situations. Talk faster next time, okay?”

I grinned. “Sure.”

We exchanged a kiss—a warm, comfortable, all’s-well-with-the-world kiss—before I zoomed off to my next appointment.

As I was getting in my car, the grumble of a motorcycle engine revving caught my attention. The bike was at the end of the block. The rider looked around quickly, then set off with enough speed that his tires squealed. He took the corner at a steep angle and was gone. I caught only a glimpse; the rider wore a helmet, but I recognized the canvas army jacket.

Peter Gurney was tracking me.

After a moment of thought, I decided that didn’t bother me. Maybe this was something he had to do, to feel he was learning as much about T.J. as he could. He could learn from me—I didn’t have anything to hide. He was quite a ways down on the list of things I was worried about at the moment.

I called the Paradox crew to tell them I’d be late. Arriving at last, I found Jules and Tina waiting for me in the hospital cafeteria, sparsely populated after the lunchtime rush. They sat around a table, slumped forward, gazes vacant—still looking shell-shocked. Tina had a smoky cough. We’d been so worried about Gary, the rest of us had only sat still for cursory examinations by the paramedics. Smoke inhalation, minor burns. Get some rest was what we were told.

I felt fine, but I was a werewolf with super healing. I ought to tell them to get to bed to rest and heal. But I kept thinking, what if this happened again, and again? And now I’d dragged them into it.

“How’s everyone this morning?” I greeted them, and they all grumbled. “How’s Gary?”

When they didn’t answer right away, I assumed the worst. I was all ready to run up to his room and check on him myself—assuming he was still there, but Tina said, “He’s awake. He’s okay. He’s still a little groggy, but he’ll be okay.”

Relieved, I sank into a free chair and blew out a sigh. “That’s really good to hear. Have you told him about your, um, talent yet?” I kind of wanted to be there for that conversation.

“Uh, no,” Tina said. “I figured I’d wait until he was back on his feet.”

I was going to say something about whether they’d be interested in doing the big reveal on my show, but Tina wrinkled her nose and peered hard at me. “What’s wrong?” I said, wary.

“Are you okay? You’ve got something weird going on. This smell.”

I wondered... I was carrying a jar of the blood-and-ruin potion in my bag, for the Paradox crew to use.

“Er,” I said, chagrined. “I didn’t think nonlycanthropes could smell it.”

“Smell what?” Jules said.

“You can’t smell that?” Tina said. “Oh, God, don’t tell me—”

Tina didn’t really smell it—she sensed it. Which gave me hope, because that meant there was something weird and magical about it. Maybe it would work.

I revealed the jar, half filled with viscous black goo. They twisted their faces up in expressions of disgust. “It’s supposed to be a protection spell.”

“What is it?” Jules said, already repulsed, though I hadn’t even told him.

“Blood mixed with dust from a ruin.”

They both went Eww.

“Got that out of a book, didn’t you?” Jules said, cutting. “Something by Crowley, maybe?”

“As a matter of fact, no,” I said. “I happen to have a consultant on the case. Like you guys. Have your contacts been able to turn up anything? Any ideas what we do next to track this thing down?”

Again, they answered with a long, hard silence. I blinked at them. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s really hard saying this, Kitty,” Jules said.

“Because you’re a coward,” Tina muttered. Jules glared at him.

“What?” I said. “What’s hard?”

They exchanged glances, frowning, slouching. If anything, they looked even more glum than they had when I arrived.

Cm" g, “We’re leaving Denver,” Jules said finally. “The producers yanked the plug when they found out what happened. What you’ve uncovered here, it’s simply too dangerous.”

“I think we should stay,” Tina said, angry. This argument might have been going on all morning. “Gary wants to stay.”

“Gary’s in no state to be making these decisions,” Jules said. “Besides, it’s the producers’ call, and they want out. It’s back to ordinary haunted houses for us.”

Looked like the werewolf pack wasn’t the only group facing mutiny today.

Tina glared. “I’d rather listen to concussed Gary than the producers.”

“Tina, it’s too much. Voices in the attic are one thing. But this—we can’t handle it.”

The thing was, I couldn’t blame them. Not even a little bit. This was my problem, not theirs. One of their people had been hurt, tens of thousands of dollars of equipment destroyed. Getting the hell out of town was the smartest thing to do.

I nodded, understanding. But I couldn’t let them off that easy. “I thought you were investigators. I thought you wanted to study this sort of thing. Now you’re telling me if it’s not clean and pretty enough for TV you don’t want anything to do with it?”

“Kitty, that’s not fair,” Jules said.

“No,” I said. “It really isn’t. None of this is. But you”—I nodded at Tina—“contacted this thing. You came closer to it than I ever could. And you”—at Jules this time—“have skills and knowledge to learn what it really is. You told me you got into this field because you were curious. Because you had to know. But I guess you don’t have to know that badly.”

They looked at me, and it was making me nervous. I wasn’t going to change their minds by spouting platitudes at them, so I stood. Before I left, I put a jar of protection goo in the middle of the table.

“Just in case,” I said and turned to stalk out. Maybe I hoped that they’d have a change of heart and call me back. They didn’t.