Kitty Steals the Show Page 42


The werewolf frowned. “You’re staging World War Two over again, you know that?”

I considered that a moment. The comparison seemed too easy to make. Maybe there was a reason for that. “I guess I am. So how about it?”

“You remember the Blitz, Caleb?” Ned said.

“Before my time, but I know the stories,” he said. “The city’s werewolves could see and move in the blackouts, and they weren’t easily injured by falling debris and shrapnel in the bombing. They organized, became Air Raid Wardens, walked patrols, and arranged rescues of survivors buried in fallen buildings. They could smell them and guide the rescue crews to them. The city’s alpha at the time, a hoary old monster without a lick of patience, punished any wolves caught hunting or killing in the chaos.”

Ned said, “I gave the wolves who patrolled the run of my properties so they always had a safe place to go, rations that no one else had access to. I organized—”

“Give yourself a bloody medal, why don’t you,” Caleb said.

Ned pursed his lips. “I’m merely demonstrating that we can work together to protect the city because we’ve done it before.”

“This isn’t the Blitz.”

“Not yet,” Ned said.

Even I thought that might have been overstating the case, except for the voice in the back of my head that said, What if he’s not?

Caleb might have been asking himself the same question, the way he scowled.

Ned continued. “The turmoil surrounding this conference of Ms. Norville’s has convinced me that I can no longer watch events from the sidelines. Our two tribes working together must be stronger than the sum of our parts.”

The werewolf gave him a sour look. “You talk high and mighty, sir, but you’re no Churchill.”

“I knew him, you know.”

Caleb turned away, scowling dramatically.

“What do you think, Caleb?” I said.

“I’m willing to consider an alliance. But an alliance isn’t strategy. How do you expect—”

A long, strained howl echoed from a distant part of the park, then cut off abruptly. A warning.

“That was Sam,” Caleb said, listening, ear cocked. “He’s meant to be watching the east approach.”

“That sounded like trouble,” Ben said.

“Yes,” Caleb said.

We all faced different directions, scanning the edges of the open space.

“Might I suggest moving indoors?” Ned said. His town house was maybe ten blocks away.

“It’s too late for that, I think,” Caleb murmured.

The figure of a man, shirtless and barefoot, came toward us across the lawn from a distant row of trees. He was fast, powerful, running with a long, loose stride that had an animal quality to it, easy and fluid. One of Caleb’s pack—the lieutenant who’d been with him the other night. The alpha trotted out to meet him.

“They got him, they killed Sam,” he said to Caleb. “They went right for his heart, he didn’t have a chance—”

“Who is it, Michael? Who got him?” Caleb held the man’s head steady and made him look in his eyes. The wolf, Michael, was struggling, gasping for breath, his muscles tense. All his instincts were telling him to shift, but he was holding on. “Was it vampires or wolves, Michael?”

“Both, Caleb. Both!”

Chapter 15

MICHAEL LOST control, doubling over and hugging himself, groaning as his wolf fought free. Caleb knelt with him, hand on his shoulder, steadying him as he fought the last of his clothing. Bronze-gray fur rippled across Michael’s back, and his face stretched.

The instinct to Change spiked through us.

“Keep it together,” Ben murmured, for my benefit or his I couldn’t tell.

“Kitty?” Ned asked cautiously.

“We’re fine,” I shot back. “Where are they? I don’t smell them.”

“They’re moving downwind of us,” Ben said. We stood back-to-back, our natural posture in the face of danger.

“Caleb, how many are there? How many did he see?” Ned said, but Michael’s last moan turned into a growl of warning.

“He saw enough, likely,” Caleb said.

Ben looked at Ned. “Well, Churchill, have any ideas?”

“If I’m not mistaken, they’re hoping to corner us, attack us all at once. Bloody and decisive.”

“There’s a reason I’m the alpha of this territory. They’re not going to win this,” Caleb said. “Michael, call them.”

The wolf had been pacing back and forth before his alpha, ranging forward and circling back. His ears were flat, his lips drawn back. Tipping his head back, he howled a series of long warning notes.

“That going to be a problem when people start calling the police about wolves running wild in Hyde Park?” Ben said.

“They’ll say it was kids messing around. It’s happened before.”

The open, sloping lawn meant we had a good view in every direction. The position might not have been as defensible as I liked. Behind walls would have been better.

“Here they come,” Ned said.

Four wolves ran, bodies rippling, strangely liquid, shadows flowing across the lawn. They approached at a wide angle, aiming to converge on us. At the same time, three more wolves, stretching legs to make huge strides, came obliquely to intercept them.

“Those three are mine!” Caleb called. They were all just shapes, creatures from a nightmare, multiplying.

“I should Change,” Ben said. “I can fight better if I Change.”

“Too late,” I said. “Stay with me.”

The two waves of animals met each other, bodies crashing, pale teeth bared and flashing in the dark. Their snarls cut like rasps on wood.

I looked behind us, because no way would a pack of wolves have launched an attack on just one front. Sure enough, two more rocketed from the back of the hill, in beautiful motion, without a wasted step. They aimed toward Ned.

The vampire waited calmly on the crest of the hill. He’d taken off his coat, laid it on the grass, and rolled up his sleeves. Ben and I ran to join him, reaching him as the wolves did. Three against two—not terrible odds. But this was going to hurt.

The two of us jumped at one of the wolves, tackling him, using our weight to pin him to the ground. The wolf was ready for us and writhed, twisting back on himself, flexing every muscle to wrench out of our grasp. He snapped; his teeth caught on my arm, and I hissed at the pain. I managed to grab his ear and twist; he yelped, then jerked out of my grip. Ben was trying to turn him onto his back, but the wolf kicked, digging claws into us, and tumbled away.

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