Kitty and the Midnight Hour

'I would never hurt the pack—'

'Not on purpose.'

I snuggled deeper into his embrace. I didn't want to be cocky. I wanted to be safe.

Chapter 5

'Next caller, hello. You're on the air.'

'It—it's my girlfriend. She won't bite me.'

Bobby from St. Louis sounded about twenty, boyish and nervous, a gawky postadolescent with bigger fantasies than he knew what to do with. He probably wore a black leather jacket and had at least one tattoo in a place he could cover with a shirt.

'Okay, Bobby, let's back up a little. Your girlfriend.'

'Yeah?'

'Your girlfriend is a werewolf.'

'Yeah,' he said in a voice gone slightly dreamy.

'And you want her to bite you and infect you with lycanthropy.'

'Uh, yeah. She says I don't know what I'd be getting into.'

'Do you think that she may be right?'

'Well, it's my decision—'

'Would you force her to have sex with you, Bobby?'

'No! That'd be rape.'

'Then don't force her to do this. Just imagine how guilty she'd feel if she did it and you changed your mind afterward. This isn't a tattoo you can have lasered off. We're talking about an entire lifestyle change here. Turning into a bloodthirsty animal once a month, hiding that fact from everyone around you, trying to lead a normal life when you're not fully human. Have you met her pack?'

'Uh, no.'

'Then you really don't know what you're talking about when you say you want to be a werewolf.'

'Uh, no.'

'Bobby, I usually make suggestions rather than tell people flat out what to do, but I'm making an exception in your case. Listen to your girlfriend. She knows a heck of a lot more about it than you do, okay?'

'Uh, okay. Thanks, Kitty.'

'Good luck to you, Bobby,' I said and clicked Bobby off. 'And good luck to Bobby's girlfriend. My advice to her is dump the guy; she doesn't need that kind of stress in her life. You're listening to The Midnight Hour with me, Kitty Norville. The last hour we've been discussing relationships with lycanthropes, bones to pick and beef to grind. Let's break now for station ID and when we come back, more calls.'

I waved to Matt through the booth window. He hit the switch. The On-Air sign dimmed and the show's theme song, CCR's 'Bad Moon Rising,' played. Not the usual synthesized goth fare one might expect with a show like this. I picked the song for its grittiness, and the joy with which it seemed to face impending doom.

I pulled off my headphones and pushed the microphone away. If I'd gotten tired of this, as I expected I would during the first six months, quitting would be easy. But I liked it. I still liked it. I hated making T.J. angry, though. Not in the same way I hated making Carl angry. But still. If they were both pissed off at me, what could I do? I didn't want to give up something that I was proud of, like I was proud of the show. I hated them for making me this stressed out about it.

A werewolf pack was the most codependent group of beings in existence.

'You okay in there?' Matt said. His dark hair was just long enough to tie in a ponytail, and he was a few days late shaving. Anywhere but here he'd have looked disreputable. Behind the control board, he looked right at home.

I had my elbows propped on the desk and was rubbing my temples. I'd been losing sleep. My head hurt. Whine.

'Yeah,' I said, straightening and taking a big swallow of coffee. I'd have time enough to stress myself into an ulcer later.

Could werewolves get ulcers?

The two-minute break ended. Matt counted fingers down through the window. The On-Air sign lit, the lights on my caller board lit. Headphones on, phone line punched.

'Welcome back to The Midnight Hour. We have Sarah from Sioux City on the line.'

The woman was in tears. She fought not to cry, a losing battle. 'Kitty?'

'Hi, Sarah,' I said soothingly, bracing myself for the onslaught. 'What do you need to talk about?'

'My husband,' she said after a shuddering breath. 'I caught him last week. I mean, I spied on him.' She paused, and I let her collect herself before prompting her.

'What happened, Sarah?'

'He—he turned… into… into a wolf. In the woods… behind our house. After he thought I'd gone to bed.'

'And you had no idea he's a lycanthrope.'

'No! I mean, I suspected. The business trips once a month during the full moon, eating his steaks rare. How could he keep something like this from me? I'm his wife! How could he do it?' The woman's voice quavered until she was nearly screeching.

'Did you confront him? Talk to him about it?'

'Yes, yes. I mean, I asked him about it. He just said he was sorry. He won't look me in the eye anymore!'

'Sarah, take a breath. That's a girl. I know this is a blow, but let's look at it together. How long have you been married?'

'Six—six years.'

'And did your husband tell you how long he's been a werewolf?'

'Two years.'

'Now, Sarah, I'm going to ask you to look at the situation from his point of view. It was probably pretty traumatic for him becoming a lycanthrope, right?'

'Yes. He was working the night shift alone, locking up the store, when it happened. He—he said he was lucky he got away. Why didn't he ever tell me?'

'Do you think maybe he was trying to protect you? You had a good marriage and he didn't want to mess things up, right? Now I'm not saying what he did was right. In a great marriage he would have told you from the start. But he's having to keep this secret from a lot of people. Maybe he didn't know how to tell you. Maybe he was afraid you'd leave him if he told you.'

'I wouldn't leave him! I love him!'

'But people do leave their partners when something like this happens. He's probably scared, Sarah. Listen, does he still love you?'

'He says he does.'

'You know what I'd do? Sit down with him. Tell him that you're hurt, but you want to support him if he'll be honest with you from here on out. Before you do that, though, you have to decide whether or not you can stay married to a werewolf. You have to be just as honest with yourself as you want him to be with you.'

Sarah was calm now. She hiccuped a little from the crying, but her voice was steady. 'Okay, Kitty. I understand. Thank you.'

'Good luck, Sarah. Let me know how it turns out. All right, I've got lots of calls waiting, so let's move right along. Cormac from Longmont, hello.'

'I know what you are.'

'Excuse me?'

'I know what you are, and I'm coming to kill you.'