Kitty and the Silver Bullet

Before I left, I checked the glove box. Yes, Ben's gun with its silver bullets was still there. Ben was so utterly practical, and I was still mad at him. I slammed closed the glove box and hoped I wouldn't need the gun, thereby proving him right again.

I knew Shaun from my days in the pack. He kept to himself mostly, and that was why I looked for him first. Like most werewolves, he was part of a pack for safety, for the protection of numbers, the reassurance of a regular territory to run in on full moon nights. He didn't make trouble, he paid proper respect to the alphas, and thereby maintained an equilibrium. He wasn't one of the ones so blindingly loyal to Carl that he'd fight and die for him. I was counting on that—and counting that I could run fast enough if I'd judged wrong.

Conversely, I had to hope that even though he was a loner, he knew enough about the pack to tell me what had happened to Jenny.

Back in the old days—only a year ago, I had to remind myself that I'd left the pack less than a year ago—Shaun had worked at a trendy bar and cafй in Lodo, near the baseball stadium, as a cook, usually during the late shift. Funny, how many lycanthropes liked working late. First, I called to ask if he was still working there. He was, and in fact had been promoted to the head of his shift. The guy had some ambition, it seemed. I showed up at the place a little after the evening rush and made my way to the back entrance. An open doorway in the back alley led to a clean, white work area and kitchen. A busboy dropped a bag of trash in a nearby dumpster, and voices, rattling dishes, and the sound of spraying water drifted out, a counterpoint to the sounds of traffic nearby. The smell of rich food and wonderful spices overpowered the city smells entirely, wafting out on the hot air spilling from the kitchen. The comforting scent made me smile.

'Hey,' I called to the kid as he turned to go back inside.

'Yeah?' He was surly, wary, bent on his task, and probably not used to seeing blond chicks wandering out back.

'Can you tell Shaun someone's out here to talk to him?'

'He know you?'

'Tell him it's Kitty.' I decided to be honest. If Shaun didn't want to come talk to me, I'd march inside and talk to him instead.

The busboy nodded and went back in, leaving me to scuff my sneakers on the asphalt for several minutes. I didn't want to go in there. I'd prefer doing this outside, in the open. Neutral territory—plenty of escape routes.

I shouldn't be doing this. Leaving town was a perfectly viable option.

A young man of average height and solid build appeared in the doorway, leaning on the jamb, arms crossed, shoulders hunched. The watchful, defensive posture suggested he wasn't going to start a fight—but he wasn't going to give ground, either. He had short, dark hair, and coffee-and-cream skin, wore a chef's white smock over his shirt and jeans, and had the wild, fur-under-the-skin scent of a lycanthrope. Someone who didn't know what to look for would never see it in him.

'Hi, Shaun,' I said, hoping I sounded friendly and non-threatening. 'How are you?'

'What are you doing here?' he said by way of greeting. Didn't bother trying to sound friendly, and I couldn't blame him.

'Tell me about Jenny.'

Shaking his head, Shaun looked away. 'I can't talk to you. Carl is pissed off. I've never seen him as pissed off as he is at you.' And that was saying something. A lot of things pissed Carl off.

'Not as pissed off as he's going to be,' I said, donning a terrible sweet smile.

Shaun had pulled himself from the doorway and started to walk back inside, but my words stopped him. Slowly, he looked back over his shoulder. His body was taut with fear, uncertainty—the stiff shoulders, the clenched fists. Ready to run, ready to fight if cornered. I recognized the stance because I'd felt it myself so many times. He studied me, his dark eyes shining.

'You're going to do it,' he said. 'You're going to take him down.'

Not 'you're going to challenge him,' or 'you're going to try to take him.' He said 'you are.' Like he believed I could. That sent a charge through me, a brush of static that made my hair rise. He thought I was stronger—maybe I could get him to side with me. Maybe.

'Right now, I just want to know what happened to Jenny. I put her on a plane. She was supposed to be on a plane and away from Carl. How did he get to her?'

His stance changed. Some of the caution slipped, replaced by…something. I couldn't read the new tension that creased his features. Could it be grief? I waited for him to collect himself.

When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and hesitant.

'She called him from the waiting area. I think she chickened out. She talked a lot about getting away, when he wasn't around. But it was like talking about winning the lottery. Nobody believes it, you don't believe it yourself. Then she'd turn around in the same breath and say how much she loved him. How she wouldn't want to hurt him. Like it didn't matter how much he hurt her.' His expression turned bitter. 'When she disappeared, I was happy. I thought she'd really done it, gotten away from him, left town. I didn't care how, I didn't care where, just that she was away. But she called him, and Carl talked her out of it. Pulled out all that 'we're a pack, we're family, I need you' shit. He still had a hold on her. I can't really blame her—it's hard walking away. You know that.'

I shook my head. 'It isn't hard. The hard part is knowing that if I'd done it sooner, T. J. might still be alive.'

'Yeah.'

'She called him. He picked her up at the airport. He took her—where? To their house?' Meg and Carl had a house west of town, against the foothills, with easy access to wilderness for running on full moon nights.

'They didn't get that far,' Shaun said. Quickly he added, 'I wasn't there. I heard about it later. I'd have tried to stop him if I'd been there. But I've been staying away from him. He's wrapped up in some of Arturo's shit right now, and I don't want to have anything to do with that.'

'There were some other lycanthropes in town,' I said. 'Strangers. Carl sent the pack after them. He left Jenny with the rest of the bodies. He must have picked her up at the airport knowing he was going to kill her.'

'You know him as well as I do. You tell me.'

'You knew what he'd do, and you didn't even try to stop him.'

'What did you expect me to do?' he shouted.

I didn't flinch, because his anger wasn't directed at me. Not that it mattered, because I was angry enough at myself. I'd been so close. She'd been so close. How could she have waited by the curb, how could she have gotten into his car, knowing him the way she must have known him? Knowing that he wouldn't not hurt her, at the very least? Knowing that he was capable of killing her.

I blamed it on the stupid security rules that meant I couldn't walk her to the airplane without buying a ticket myself. I should have known that it wasn't enough to see her walk through that metal detector. I shouldn't have breathed that sigh of relief until I'd gotten Alette's call that she'd arrived safely. Why was I so goddamned trusting! I could imagine what Carl had said to her: You need me, I can take care of you, you're just a pup, you're too weak to be on your own, let me come get you, I'll save youfrom yourself. He'd have worn her down until there was nothing left. No confidence, no purpose—no self.

And part of her loved him despite everything. Of course she'd call him. Of course she'd start to doubt, without someone telling her everything she had to gain by leaving him. I leaned against the soot-stained brick wall of the alley, wiped my eyes, and sniffed back tears. It didn't help. I felt battered and exhausted.

'At least you tried,' Shaun said. 'It's more than anyone else did.' He glanced away—bearing his own part of the shame.

'You couldn't stand up to Carl any more than she could,' I said. 'T. J. was the only one.'

'I liked T. J.' He gave a little shrug and a sad smile. 'Everybody liked T.J. He was the best of us. After he…you know. There didn't seem to be much point in standing up to Carl.'

There had to be a way to do this with brains instead of brawn. I hadn't gotten this far on my less-than-brute strength.

I looked at Shaun—then tried to look into him. Looked at him like I could see everything: his mind, his soul, his fears. A wolfs stare. 'If I need you. If I call on you—will you come? When I put together a plan, will you stand with me?'

His indecision was plain. He shuffled his feet, looked skyward, and winced, squinting into the streetlight. Didn't want to answer. Didn't look at me. I didn't want to push him—I was asking a lot of him: to break ranks, to possibly put his life on the line. But I didn't have time to wait.

'Shaun?' I spoke With an edge. I had to mean it. I had to sound like I knew what I was doing.

He took a deep breath, then he looked at me. 'If it's a good plan,' he said. 'Yes.'

I felt a little bit stronger.

'Thank you,' I said. 'I'll let you know when.'

I walked away without looking back. Turning my back on him was a sign of trust, and a sign of power. Wolf's sign.

Now, about that plan…

As Ben and I drove to meet Rick, Hardin called back. I hadn't expected her to have anything so soon. She quickly dashed my hopes for progress.

'Cook checked out of the Brown Palace on Monday,' she said. 'By all accounts, she's left town.'

On the one hand, I was relieved. She wouldn't be around to mess things up anymore. On the other hand, we couldn't learn anything more from her.

Hardin continued. 'Funny thing, though. All her concerts for the week have been postponed.'

'She could be anywhere, then.'

'I've got someone going over the hotel's security tapes from the last week. Maybe we can track down a few of her associates. See if anything links her to the warehouse or this Master vampire of yours.'

It seemed like little enough to go on, but I wasn't going to complain. 'Thanks, Detective.'

'Something I can't figure out,' she said. I braced for a difficult question until I realized a laugh hid behind her voice. 'Am I doing you a favor with all this or are you doing me one?'

'Maybe we'll just call this one a wash,' I said. She clicked off.

Rick had picked what must have been the seediest dive available on East Colfax. When I told Ben the address, he'd done a double take.

'You are not going there,' he said.

'How do you even know about this place?'

'If I told you how many assault cases come out of that bar, you'd faint.'

'And how many of those have you defended?'

'Enough to know we have no business being there.' Ben might have been a few steps up the moral and social ladder from Cormac, but that still left him a few steps down from normal. Many steps down from normal.

'Rick’ll look after us.'

'Like he looked after the rest of his people?'

'You don't have to come if you feel that way.'

'You're not going there alone.'

His vehemence gave me a warm feeling, even in the midst of the argument. He likes me… We hadn't stopped the catty back-and-forth for days, it seemed like. We