Kitty Rocks the House

Chapter 13

I’D HAD a very bad dream. Funny, because I didn’t remember going to sleep. I remembered—not very much, as it turned out. But the evidence around me filled in some of the blanks. I was naked. A bed of dry grass pressed into my skin, crunching under me when I breathed. Ben sat nearby, not touching me, his scent and body heat projecting toward me. He was fully dressed, fully human. I could smell his clothing, hear the rustle of his shirt when he moved. We hadn’t been hunting together. Which meant I had Changed and run on my own. My stomach rumbled, my nerves quaked. An awful, tinny taste coated my mouth, a thin film of blood remained on my teeth. I’d caught something, who knew what, but that wasn’t what bothered me. The anxiety and fear did.

“Hey,” Ben said softly.

“Ben?” I murmured, my voice scratching. As if I couldn’t believe he was here, or that I was.

“I’m here.”

I opened my eyes. The sky was dark, the glow of the city lighting the horizon. The air was cool, sending a chill of gooseflesh across my back. I hugged myself.

Ben was sitting just out of reach, back against a tree trunk, one knee propped up, an arm resting across it. He’d been watching me, but glanced away when I looked up. A calming gesture.

“I’m not sure what happened,” I said finally.

“Not surprised. You must have run off in a hurry.”

“How did you know to come after me?” I said, after wetting my lips. I needed a drink of water.

“Cheryl called. Said you looked really upset. I knew it had to be bad, so I checked a map, found the park nearest to her house, came over, and started walking. I knew you wouldn’t have gone too far.”

“I tried.”

“I know.”

I imagined how angry I must have been, that Ben had left me alone, that Wolf hadn’t curled up next to him, leaning against him so he could brush fingers through her fur. That he had waited rather than reach out to us. Tears stung in my eyes, thinking about it. I propped myself up, stretching awkward kinks out of my muscles, and scooted toward him. He put his arms around me and gathered me close. His embrace was like a blanket, and I flushed at his touch. I could stay here all night.

“You okay?” he murmured after a moment, and I rubbed my eyes dry.

“Cheryl must be really pissed off,” I said.

“I think she’s worried,” he said. “She’s not sure what happened.”

How could she even guess? The memories came back: the argument, the way everything crashed in my mind at once—too many demands, too many accusations. I had to acknowledge a seed of anger still there, burning.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured. Couldn’t think of anything else to say. Of course, I’d have to call Cheryl and say the same thing.

“Ready to go home?”

“Yeah.”

He moved, revealing a pile of clothes. “Found your clothes. And this.” He held up the chain I wore my wedding band on. The gold ring turned, shining silver even in the dark—white gold, Ben’s idea of a joke. After almost losing my engagement ring in an unexpected, uncontrolled shape-shifting incident, I wore my wedding ring around my neck so I could take it off in a hurry. It must have fallen to the side with my clothes when I pulled my shirt off. I took it from him and squeezed it in my hand before sliding the chain over my neck. The ring rested on my sternum, right next to my heart. Cheesy, but its weight felt like the pieces of the world coming back into their rightful places.

“Thanks,” I said, simply, and he brushed back a lock of my hair.

“I don’t know how useful these are actually going to be.” He held up my jeans, which had a big rip in the waistband. The shirt had parted along one seam. They were both probably, technically wearable. But I was glad when he also held up his overcoat.

“So,” I said. “How many times now have I ended up half-naked in torn-up clothes wearing your overcoat?” I slipped on the shirt—more of a blouse than a pullover now—and started on the jeans.

He grinned. “I think it kinda turns me on.”

How could I resist a come-on like that? The flush rolling through my gut helped push away some of my anxiety. I grabbed his collar, pulled myself toward him, and kissed him. His mouth opened to mine, and I leaned in to wrap his warmth around me. There went a little more anxiety.

Pulling away, he donned a thoughtful, puckered expression. He seemed to be licking his lips. “What on earth did you eat?”

The question recalled a memory of dense fur on a lithe, stringy body. “Um. I think I killed somebody’s cat.”

“Oh geez,” he said, and laughed.

I glared. “It’s not funny.”

“It kind of is. I know, not to whoever’s cat it is. But anybody who lets their cat out around here knows about coyotes. It’s not exactly safe.”

Some cat wasn’t coming home tonight and it was my fault. “I feel really bad.”

He put his arm around my shoulder and hugged. “That’s what makes you a good person. You know that, right?”

Time to get out of here, surely. He helped me slip on the overcoat, then gave me a hand up. He didn’t let go, and I happily leaned into the solidity of him. We started hiking across the open field. I recognized where we were—an open swathe of greenway that wound through Highlands Ranch. I was still within a mile of my sister’s house. I’d lucked out, losing it this close to a reasonable facsimile of wilderness.

“I remember when you did this for me. I completely lost it, ran off. And you were right there to call me back.”

“I should know better,” I said. “After all this time, I really ought to know better. I’m the pack alpha—what kind of example is this? I feel so … dumb.”

“You controlled it enough to stay away from people. You didn’t hurt anything, so no harm done, really.”

“Except for the cat.”

He laughed again. “I’m sorry, it’s just … you couldn’t find anything more appetizing than a cat?”

“You’re not helping, dear,” I growled.

He’d parked his car by the curb, away from the main road that wound through the neighborhood. I was happy to see it. One step closer to home.

“Oh—we’re not telling Cormac about this, right?” I said.

“We are not telling Cormac about this,” he agreed.

We’d climbed into the car when Ben’s phone rang. Ben’s, not mine, which was a nice change. I even checked, patting my jeans pocket. The thing somehow managed to stay lodged there through all that mess. The call was probably one of his clients needing to be bailed out or looking for advice—before they did something stupid rather than after, one hoped.

“Hello? Yeah … yeah. She’s right here. She wasn’t answering her phone for a while. Is something wrong?” After a moment of listening, he said, “You’d better talk to her,” then handed the phone to me.

Who is it? I mouthed at him, but the voice on the other end of the connection was already talking.

“Ms. Norville? Kitty?”

“Angelo?”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he said, sounding wheezy, as if forgetting to draw breath in order to speak.

“Do what? What’s wrong?” If I didn’t know better I’d have said he was in a panic. Vampires didn’t panic.

“I need … I’m trying…” He really was gasping out the words. I clamped my mouth shut to keep quiet, to let him talk. “I need help,” he finally said.

I had to let that sink in. “What?”

“I. Need. Help.” He bit the words off.

“No, I heard you, I just didn’t believe it. You need what?” Oh, this made up for all the times he’d stood at the doorway to Rick’s lair telling me I wasn’t good enough to speak to the illustrious Master.

“Kitty. Please, I’m being serious.”

And he was. The panic was definitely there, in a brittle edge to his voice.

“What is it?” I said.

“Rick is missing.”

I turned the words over a couple of times because they didn’t make sense. “You mean he still isn’t answering calls—”

“I mean none of us have seen him for a week,” Angelo said. “He may be eccentric, but he’s never been … neglectful. I’m fielding calls from the envoy from Buenos Aires and I don’t know what to tell him. Rick needs to be here.”

If Rick hadn’t told his own lieutenants where he was, why would he have told me? I didn’t say that. I should have been flattered that Angelo even thought of calling me. How much pride had he swallowed to do that? He was obviously continuing to choke on it.

As for Rick … “Yeah, he does.”

“He talks to you—you’re his friend—”

“And you’re not?”

“I know you know where he is. Just tell me.”

The thought of tracking Rick down just now made me tired. I needed a shower. And a change of clothes. I looked down at myself, my ratty hair and torn clothes, wrapped up as well as I could be in Ben’s coat, and decided this couldn’t wait. “I’ll call you.”

“I want to be there when you talk to him—”

I hung up on him. Ben looked at me. “That’ll piss him off.”

“I’ll deal with him later. Rick can deal with him later.”

Ben started the car. “Then you know where we’re going?”

“Yeah. St. Cajetan’s.”

“I knew it.” The car pulled away from the curb. “What about those protective spells?”

“I just want to talk, we’re not going to provoke anyone. We should be fine.” Famous last words.

“You sure you don’t want to go home first?”

“Let’s get this over with.”

The drive took almost half an hour. I could have waited, but I called Cheryl instead.

“Hey,” I said when she answered.

“Kitty! Oh my God, where are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Ben found me. Cheryl, I’m sorry I ran off on you.” There, I said it. I felt relieved.

“What the hell happened?”

“I lost my temper.”

“Oh, is that all,” she said, with a thick layer of sarcasm.

“Can it, Cheryl,” I said, my exhaustion plain.

“Seriously, Kitty—are you okay?” She actually sounded concerned. Not demanding, not frustrated. She was across town, but I could feel her hugging me.

“I will be,” I said, with unexpected honesty. I wasn’t okay, obviously. Not completely. “I’ve just had a lot going on this week. I’m a little on edge.”

“And I tipped you over?”

I smiled. “Maybe just a little.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.”

“Kitty—thanks for calling. You should get some rest, you sound thrashed.”

Yeah, I probably did. Too bad I had a couple of chores first. “I’ll come pick up my car later.”

“Don’t worry about it. If we have to move it we will. You dropped your keys.”

Of course I did. Just another thing to worry about. “I love you, Cheryl.”

“I love you, too.”

As I hung up the phone, Ben glanced over. He was smiling. “See? You didn’t traumatize her too badly.”

“I almost shifted in her kitchen.”

“But you didn’t. Think positive here.”

Yeah, right. “Full moon was just a few days ago. This is supposed to be the easiest time of the month to keep from shifting. But I totally lost it.”

“We’ll just have to be careful, at least until things let up a little.”

I liked that he put the “we” in there. But I didn’t like the feeling that I needed to be looked after. Taken care of. Babysat.

By the time we arrived downtown, streetlights were blazing and the sky was full dark. Ben crawled along the street near our destination, looking for a parking spot. Some of the surrounding offices and classroom buildings showed a few lights in the windows, but the church was dark. It loomed like a fortress over its parklike surroundings.

Ben found a spot in the driveway near the church. Between a couple of NO PARKING signs even. I raised a brow at him. “We’re not going to be here long, right? Nobody’ll know.”

The lawyer was saying this?

In the dead of night, with the engine still, the neighborhood’s silence pressed in. The streetlights seemed muted, and the air seemed hazy. It gave the place a haunted look. At least, my imagination thought so.

“It’s really tough looking for a vampire who doesn’t want to be found,” I said, stepping out of the car. Ben followed.

“Cormac would say wait until daylight and flush ‘em out.”

“Cormac says a lot of things.”

Craning my neck, I regarded the building, a hulking shadow in the city’s nighttime haze. How did I convince Rick that he wanted to be found? I walked around to the front of the church and climbed the wide steps to the front door, to try the only thing I could—the direct approach. This late, I probably wouldn’t be disturbing a lecture.

“What are you going to do, knock?” Ben asked, trailing behind.

Glancing at him over my shoulder, I gave a thin smile and knocked on one of the church’s wooden front doors.

No one answered. I tried again; the hollow thumping seemed to get swallowed up by the darkness, and by the tall bell towers looming over me. Those towers looked like they might be home to bats; on the other hand, the pale stucco of the church’s exterior, still visible even at night, didn’t do much for the gothic vampire atmosphere.

I rattled the door latch. Tonight, this late, the thing was locked. The place didn’t exactly have a window I could crawl through. Behind me, Ben crossed his arms and frowned. Visions of misdemeanor trespassing passing before his eyes, no doubt.

I trotted down the stairs and walked around the building and the rectory next door, looking for a lit window or a door that wasn’t bolted tight, but didn’t find anything and ended up back by the front steps. I knew Columban and Rick were here, I just knew it. The markings that laid out the protective circle were still here. They may even have been touched up since Cormac’s last escapade. This place was still being defended.

Halfway up the front steps, I put my hands around my mouth and called, “Rick! Rick, I need to talk to you! Rick!” I shouted up at those bell towers; their shadowed interiors stared down at me like eyes.

If he was here, he’d heard me. If he didn’t come out, he was ignoring me, just like he’d ignored my phone calls, and Angelo’s, and everything else. And I couldn’t change that.

Ben was at the foot of the steps, not watching me, but the sidewalks around the church. Keeping a look out for me. I worried that I took him for granted. I got in trouble and dragged him with me over and over. It wasn’t a good pattern.

Nothing happened.

I descended, my steps landing heavy. What else could I do but call again, leave yet another message? But I could do it from someplace warm and well lit, after a shower and change of clothes. But it felt like giving up.

When I reached the bottom, Ben put his arm around my shoulders, and together we walked back around the building to the car.

“Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk,” Ben said.

I scowled. “Maybe he’s really not here.”

“But if he’s not here, and he’s not at Obsidian, and the other vampires haven’t seen him…”

“Maybe he’s not here, in Denver.”

Rick had spent most of his life being nomadic. If he decided to leave, I couldn’t assume that he’d tell me first. I’d been alive for a bare fraction of his years—would only live for a fraction of them. Why should he care about what I thought? I wanted to believe our friendship had meant more than that. Him just leaving—that would mean he didn’t consider me a friend at all.

That was still better than thinking he’d been killed, which was an alternative I hadn’t voiced. Rick had lived for five hundred years, he couldn’t just die.

Ben slowed, his arm tugging me to a stop beside him. He nodded toward a back corner of the chapel, where a figure moved, stepping out of shadows from behind a clump of shrubbery. I didn’t recognize him at first—he was wearing a T-shirt and trousers, and his dark hair was mussed, flopped around his ears instead of combed back from his face. Without his trench coat, his shape was different.

“Rick?” I said, walking toward him.

He waited for me, lingering by the doorway he’d come out of, as if wanting to stay near shelter. “Kitty.”

“Are you okay?”

“Of course. But are you? You look like you’ve had a rough night of it.”

With the overcoat covering them, I’d forgotten my clothes were ripped enough to fall off in a slight breeze. I hugged the coat tighter around me. When I didn’t say anything, Rick looked at Ben.

“She lost it,” he said. The vampire raised an eyebrow.

“I lost my temper and shifted in the middle of Highlands Ranch.”

“She ate somebody’s cat,” Ben added. I was never going to live that down, was I?

Rick seemed taken aback. “Really? That isn’t like you. What’s wrong?”

Everything, I almost said. “I’m a little stressed out. And this isn’t supposed to be about me, this is about you.”

“I’m fine, Kitty. What are you even doing here?”

“Angelo called me. He’s worried.”

“There’s nothing to be worried about,” Rick said curtly. “That is, as long as your bounty hunter keeps his distance.”

I didn’t want to talk about Cormac right now. The protective spell was obviously doing its job; Cormac wasn’t a threat. “The Buenos Aires vampires are going to be here in a couple of days, they’re bugging Angelo about procedure, and we haven’t talked at all about what to say to them.”

“I’m sure you can handle it,” he said. “There’s nothing I can say to them that you can’t say perfectly well on your own.”

“Besides the fact that I’m a werewolf and they probably won’t want to talk to me at all?”

“You’ll just have to convince them otherwise.”

He was dumping this all on me, all of it. The weight of the world, settling on my shoulders. Even Wolf curled up and whined at the thought.

“What’s so important that you can’t come out and deal with this?” I said. I pointed at the wall of the church. “What are you and Columban doing in there?”

“I’m…” He clenched his hands, as if reaching for pockets that weren’t there. “I can’t discuss it. But yes, it is important. Columban is taking on this battle just as much as we are. I think I can help him.”

“But I know you can help me.”

He started to say one thing, but shook his head. He turned back to the building, changed his mind, and looked back. “Kitty. Ben. I appreciate your concern. But you should go home. Get cleaned up, get some rest. You obviously have enough problems of your own, you don’t need to be worried about me.” He spoke with such confidence, in such a decisive, commanding tone, how could I argue? I still felt uneasy.

“Ricardo?” an accented voice called from within the shadows, from an open doorway in the back of the church.

Ricardo, not Rick. I could see the shape of the vampire priest’s cassock, but not his features. I wanted to grab him, shake him, demand to know what spell he’d put on Rick. But I didn’t.

“I have to go,” the vampire said. I might have imagined him pressing his lips in an apology as he turned away and disappeared back through the doorway.

“We’ve lost him,” I said, my voice bleak.

Ben put his arm around me, turned me to the street. He had to push, urging me, before I could get my feet to move.