Kitty Goes to Washington

When she drew away, I felt like a veil had fallen, or that I'd woken from a dream.

I needed a cold shower. Very cold.

'It's over,' she said. And it was. She straightened, pulling away from me. I didn't know where I'd been, but suddenly I was back in the closet under Alette's stairs, in the dark, wrapped in a trenchcoat. 'Are you all right?'

'Um, yeah. I mean, I think… wow.' It made sense, really. All part of that vampire seduction gambit: lure the prey to you, give it a reason to open its veins. Sure cut down on that messy struggling. 'Just so you know, I'm straight. Totally straight. As an arrow.'

Her voice held a smile. 'So am I.'

I smelled a touch of blood on her breath. My blood.

She no longer sounded tired, defeated, like she had a moment ago. She sat straight without effort, and the glint in her eye had returned. She seemed ready for battle.

Two sets of footsteps pounded across the foyer, right outside our hiding place. Alette looked out at the sound, frowning. Then, she pushed at the door.

'No—' I grabbed for her but missed. She slipped through the opening before I could reach her.

What could I do but follow?

Outside, in the foyer, she stood tall on her injured feet—except they didn't seem quite as injured. The redness seemed to have faded, just as her face now seemed flushed and lively.

Before her, two black-clad soldiers held handguns pointed at her. They clutched the guns in two-handed grips, straight-armed, sighting down the barrels.

'You don't want to do that,' Alette said, her voice like honey, music, seduction, passion, all together. 'You'd like to put your weapons down now.'

Calmly, she looked back and forth between them. I couldn't see Alette's eyes at this moment. I didn't want to—her gaze focused intently on the soldiers. The men didn't shoot, they didn't say anything. One of them—his arms were trembling, causing the gun to waver.

'I know you're both reasonable gentlemen. You deserve a rest. You're very calm. Very quiet. That's right.'

They both lowered their arms slowly, hypnotically, until they were hanging loose at their sides. After that, they didn't twitch a muscle. They didn't shiver, they didn't blink. They stood like statues, caught in Alette's gaze. Their breathing was slow and rhythmic, as if they slept, but their eyes were open. One of the guys' jaw hung open a little. He wasn't quite drooling.

Alette pulled the guns out of their hands and gingerly put the weapons in the closet. She closed the door. She left the soldiers standing motionless in the foyer.

How did vampires do that?

I crept past them, hardly believing they wouldn't reach out to grab me.

She went to the back of the foyer, to the hallway that led to the kitchen. 'Leo will be downstairs by this hour.'

Her gaze narrowed. The hunter had found her trail.

She walked confidently down the hallway, which opened to a modern, impressively furnished kitchen—stainless-steel counters, pots hanging above an island workstation. It seemed to be equipped to prepare and serve state dinners. Who was I to say it hadn't? Alette passed it all by, heading for a door on the far side, by the fridge.

She paused, hand on the doorknob, tilting her head to listen. So, that was the door to the basement, where the vampires spent their days in darkness and safety. Leo might be stretching out for a nap, thinking he was safe.

Or he might have been waiting for us, armed with machine guns.

'Alette, this isn't—'

She opened the door.

Common sense didn't play any part in her current motivation. Revenge probably had a big part in it, along with a liberal dose of blind rage. She didn't wait to see if I'd follow or not.

I followed.

The glow of soft lighting cast an aura up the carpeted stairs. Soundlessly, Alette stepped down.

The basement room was as Victorian in decoration as the rest of the house. Brocade wallpaper, plush carpet, antique lamps. It was a bedroom. No coffins, but a king-sized four-poster bed sat in the back, along with dressers and wardrobes, and a vanity table without the mirror.

Leo sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over the body of a young woman. Her brown hair lay loose over her shoulders, and her hands were folded over her stomach. She wore a college logo sweatshirt and faded jeans.

'It's Emma,' I whispered.

'He used her as a hostage. That was how he overcame me. He promised to keep her safe,' she said, sharp as steel, biting off the words.

Emma seemed asleep. I hoped she was just asleep.

Leo looked up. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand—an ominous gesture, though I didn't see what he wiped away. A snarl curled his lips. He stood, clenching his hands, and took a step toward us. He faced Alette across the room.

'You're supposed to be dead,' Leo said, his voice low, tight with emotion.

'I've been dead for quite some time, my dear.'

I left the stairs and moved from behind her, my back hunched like hackles rising, glaring warily.

His gaze met mine and narrowed. 'Flemming set you loose, did he? He's too soft for the game he's playing.'

I wondered, if I got a chance to wring Leo's neck, would he tell me what that game was? I could wring it with little crosses on chains.

'You could do what you liked with me if you kept Emma safe,' Alette said. 'What have you done to her?'

Leo laughed. 'Wouldn't you like to know?' He rounded his shoulders like a prizefighter entering the ring. Alette seemed unaffected, standing poised and still as always.

'You sold me out, destroyed my home, my children. Why?'

Leo laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. 'Why? That's simple. You are the worst waste of resources I have ever encountered. You command an empire, Alette. And what do you use it for? Nesting . You are an immortal goddess, and you can't seem to do anything but play the part of a stupid woman.'

Wow. Not like he was from the nineteenth century or anything.

Alette didn't even flinch. In fact, a new resolve seemed to settle on her, like something inside her had hardened. 'Is that so? If you felt that way, why stay with me for two centuries? That's a long time to have to cope with stupidity. I should know.'

Leo's jaw dropped, like he was actually offended. I put my hand in my pocket, curling my fingers around the crosses there.

'He's only just now found allies with firepower,' I said. 'Tell us what Flemming gets by sending his men to work for you. You couldn't have taken over the place without their help.'

He scowled. 'I don't talk to animals.'

'Oh, give me a break!'

'Answer the question, Leo,' Alette said, cold and implacable. The 'stupid woman' had commanded men for centuries with that voice. Even now, Leo couldn't break the habit.

'He gets a recruiting agent. Someone to help build his little army of the night. The Pentagon has already agreed to back his research when the NIH drops him. That's not what he wants, but he'll take what he can get. They've already given him a Special Forces unit to help run the operation.'

Alette gave a sigh that managed to sound feminine and indignant at the same time. 'You've sold one master and bought yourself another, do you realize that?'

'Oh, no,' Leo said. 'You're wrong about that. Flemming only thinks he's in charge. This goes far beyond him.'

Flemming was too soft, Leo had said. The scientist looked the part of an academic, but played at military intelligence and black ops. Which was the real Flemming? And if Flemming was out of his league, as Leo suggested, then whose league were we playing in?

'How far?' I said, my voice falling to almost a whisper. 'Who's calling the shots if not Flemming? Surely not you. You're a natural-born lackey.'

Leo flashed his wicked, pretentious smile. 'You'll never know, because you aren't leaving here alive.'

He flew at us. In retrospect, he probably only launched himself, springing at us with the energy of frustration and determination. But he did it so fast, he might as well have flown.

Alette must have been expecting it, or she must have seen it, somehow able to slow the time frame down in a way that I wasn't. She was also moving at his speed. She dodged, stepping aside with efficient grace. The move might have been choreographed. They were like two fighters in a Hong Kong action flick, and I was the hapless bystander who was only trying to cross the street.

The move also left the path clear between Leo and me. I couldn't get out of his way fast enough. I could feel my feet backing up, as if I were looking at myself from outside. But my steps were slow, shaking. A whimper started in the back of my throat. Submissive, be submissive, lower than him—

He wouldn't listen to that.

I held the fist full of crosses in front of me and braced.

He didn't reach me, because Alette put her hand around his neck. She shouldn't have been able to stop him. He should have just tossed her aside and kept going. But who was I to decide what a multicentury-old vampire could and couldn't do? She didn't seem to strain, even, and Leo came up short, like he'd run into a clothesline. Her hand squeezed around his throat; her tendons flexing was the only sign of effort.

'I gave you everything,' she said. 'I'll take it all away.'

'No.' He gripped her wrist, scratching at it, trying to push her away. He was taller than she was, larger, rougher, yet she held him like he was made of cotton.

She couldn't kill him by suffocating him—vampires didn't breathe. She'd have to rip his whole head off. But she only stared at him, caught his gaze in hers, seeming to give him a chance to apologize, to beg forgiveness. To beg for his life. He began to thrash like an animal in a trap.

'No.' He gasped, choking, his voice failing. 'You're not my mistress, not anymore, you're not—'

From a reservoir of anger, he lashed out. Arms together, both hands making a fist, he swung around and hit her arm at the elbow. The joint bent, breaking her hold on him for a moment—long enough. He ripped away from her and punched her hard, once in the gut, once in the face. Something cracked, like bone breaking. Alette's expression didn't have time to register surprise.

She fell backward and hit the ground. Didn't move, and my belly turned cold. Leo turned on me, striking with an intent to do damage.

I still held the crosses as a shield, but Leo toppled into me anyway. He planted his hands on my shoulders and shoved, running me to the ground, pinning me to the floor. I clawed at him, the chains still laced around my fingers. The crosses pressed against his face.

He grimaced, his mouth opened wide as he hissed and shook himself to get free of them. The crosses left welts on his cheeks and neck, like allergy-driven hives, like silver did to me. Still, he didn't let up his pressure on me. I couldn't get away.

I didn't know if Alette was in any shape to help me. I was on my own.

Change, you can fight him —Pain burned through me, Wolf starting to claw her way out. The full moon still shone. I still had power. My hands were thickening. Wildly, I thrashed, arching my back, because I didn't want to do this, I didn't want to be trapped, I hated that he was making me Change. Human or Wolf, I wasn't strong enough to fight him.

He laughed, and in another quicksilver move, he grabbed my hand, the one holding the crosses, and jammed it to the floor. He managed to shift until both my hands were pinned, and his knee dug into my gut. He leaned in close, his fangs brushing my neck. Every breath I took was a growl, and he didn't care.

'I'll have you for dessert, my kitten,' he said. He was in the perfect position to rip out my throat, and I couldn't do anything about it. I tried to work up enough spit to shoot at his face, since it seemed that was all I had left. My mouth had gone strangely dry, however.