Kitty's House of Horrors Page 39


“That’s it,” I said. “I’m sending Ariel to get you. You can deal with her, can’t you? She’s human.”

“How do you know that? I don’t know anything about any of you!”

I walked away.

Back downstairs, everyone else was still huddled in the kitchen, bent over candles and looking grim. Grant stood by the kitchen window and gazed out, either standing watch or searching. He looked like a sentinel carved from stone, and for my part I felt a little safer with him on duty.

Anastasia and Gemma were in the living room. The younger vampire was curled up on the sofa, her knees pulled to her chin, her brown hair hanging loose and limp around her face, like she’d been pulling at it. I didn’t think it was possible, but she seemed even more pale than Anastasia. More than that, she was listless, glassy-eyed. Grief-stricken, I wanted to say. Except that she smelled cold, didn’t breathe, didn’t blink, didn’t move at all—so she looked dead.

Anastasia had laid out equipment on the coffee table: gauze, blood collection tubes, a sterile pack with a brand-new hypodermic syringe inside. I was a little relieved.

I sat across from her. “I admit, I think I like this a little better than teeth. It’s a little cleaner.”

“If you didn’t like the teeth, your host was doing it wrong.”

“Oh, no, no. She was doing it just right. That’s kind of the problem.” I winced.

That was the secret behind vampire seductions. They could hypnotize their victims, arouse them, bring them to ecstasy even as they drank blood from them. They didn’t have to kill their prey. Why would they, when they could make their victims keep coming back for more? Blood was a renewable resource.

Anastasia gave a knowing smile.

She opened the package and prepared the syringe. Just a pinprick and a little blood. I could handle it. And we needed the vampires at full strength. We were all in this together.

“Are you right or left handed?” she asked, and I told her right. She sat on my left side and took that arm. Polite vampires always asked for the off hand.

I looked away and tried not to pay attention. Grant had shifted so he could see us and watched the proceedings, frowning. I looked back, almost challenging. What did you expect me to do, let them starve?

I hissed when I felt the prick in my elbow. A moment later, Anastasia said, “Hold this.” She left the needle in place and held a square of gauze over it. Her hands were perfectly steady. I put my fingers on the spot and tried not to move.

She popped out the tube of fresh blood and took it straight to Gemma. “Gemma, here. Drink this.”

She had to hold the tube under her nose a moment before Gemma reacted. Slowly, she shifted, blinked, came to awareness. She gripped Anastasia’s hand, clutching at the tube, and Anastasia guided it to her mouth. Gemma tipped her head back and pulled the tube between her lips, letting the contents pour in. She didn’t even swallow. Just let the blood stream down her throat.

Anastasia drew the empty tube away, and Gemma sat, head tipped back, hands covering her mouth. Some color came back; she went from looking corpselike to merely pale. I could almost see energy returning to her as she straightened, her muscles tensed, and she came back to life.

Then she let out a sob. “Ani, he’s gone, he’s gone!”

Anastasia drew her in an embrace. “Shh, I know, I know.” The older vampire held her, curled in her arms, like a mother with her child. Gemma cried, but they were dry sobs, shedding no tears.

I kept holding the needle in my vein and waited.

After a minute, Anastasia pulled away and held Gemma’s face to look at her. “We must be strong. He would want us to fight, yes?” Gemma nodded but still looked forlorn. She watched as Anastasia returned to me and drew a second vial, staring at the blood spilling into the tube.

This one Anastasia drank quickly and without drama. Discreetly, she withdrew and capped the needle, wrapped up the equipment for disposal, and put it in a small vinyl pouch. It was all very clinical. Made it easier for me. Which might have been the point.

“That’s all we need for now,” Anastasia said. “You need your strength, as well. But I may ask for more later.”

I rubbed my elbow; the needle-sized hole in my arm was already healed.

I was still sitting there when Ariel brought me a glass of warm orange juice and a couple of cookies. “When people give blood they’re supposed to drink a lot of fluids, right?” She shrugged, looking sheepish.

“Thanks,” I said.

“So,” Anastasia said, standing at one end of the room, arms crossed, and gazing across it. Grant regarded her from the other side of the room. I couldn’t help but think: the two most powerful people here were facing off. “Now that that’s taken care of, do we have a plan?”

No one answered.

I stared at the picture window and to the big bad world outside, where someone was waiting to kill us. The first response was always: turn Wolf and run. But the hunter was waiting and had silver. Had to use brains, not instinct. The brain clicked.

I knew someone who would know exactly how to get out of this situation. Not that I could call him. Not that he could come and help even if I could call him.

So I had to figure out how to think like Cormac.

Chapter 14

The first time I met Cormac Bennett he wanted to kill me, because that was what he did. He hunted monsters. I talked him out of it, and ever since then our friendship had the undertone of an ironic running joke. He’d introduced me to Ben, who was his cousin, and who I ended up marrying. Cormac had saved my life. He represented possibilities. Roads not taken. But that was another story.

He also gave me access to a perspective, to a way of thinking, that I otherwise never would have had experience with. I hunted under duress because I was a werewolf, and I limited myself to far wilderness where I wouldn’t hurt anyone. But people like Cormac, who did it on purpose, who made it a profession, who honed their skills—

That was the kind of person who was after us now.

I found myself asking, what would Cormac do? If it were Cormac out there, what could I expect? If I could call Cormac for help, what would he say?

The funny thing? I could hear the answer.

The hunter would try to draw us out. He’d try to separate us. Right now, we were a pack with our own territory, and we had a defensive advantage. Hunting other predators is different than hunting prey, Cormac said. We were predators.

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