Kitty Saves the World: A Kitty Norville Novel Page 12

  “Weird, huh? Is that what you meant?” he said. “What the hell was that all about? That guy—I get threatened by callers all the time, that I need to put them on the air or else. I usually just hang up on them. But this one…” He shook his head; he had no words.

  “That one was a two-thousand-year-old vampire with plans for world domination,” I said.

  “You’re not joking, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  “And you’ve managed to piss this guy off.”

  “Apparently.” I left out the part about setting a death trap for him earlier in the week.

  “Huh,” Matt said. Again, wordless, which was why he was the engineer and not the host.

  “So … are you heading home right away?”

  “No, I was planning on sticking around to train one of the new night DJs. Guy’s too green to be trusted alone with gear, you know?” He chuckled. The sound was strained. Someone was always around KNOB, twenty-four hours a day. Small comfort.

  “When you do leave, get someone to watch you get to your car. Get security to walk you out.”

  “You don’t think that Roman guy is actually going to come here?”

  “It’s just a precaution.” I was going to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. If that was what it took … “And, you know, if you have any crosses or holy water lying around…” My smile was starting to hurt.

  “What about you?”

  “Ben’s picking me up.” I was very glad I’d asked him to come get me, which I’d done because things were already weird. Now I really didn’t want to be alone. “He’s got a crossbow in the trunk.”

  “Is it too late to quit?” he asked.

  I straightened, panicked. “No, you can’t quit, not now, I couldn’t do this without you!”

  He raised calming hands, chuckling, and the tension of the last half hour dissipated. “I’m joking, chill! But I want a raise.”

  “Ask Ozzie,” I said, which was the answer I always gave.

  I turned on my phone, which immediately beeped with messages. From Alette, Tina, Hardin, and a half dozen others who knew about Roman and who must have been listening to the show, all asking if that was for real and what was I going to do about it. Answer: I was going to do what I always did. Go home and worry about it tomorrow.

  Ben had also called, twice. I called him back immediately.

  “I’m so happy to hear you,” I sighed, even though he’d only said hello.

  “Hey, hon? I’m in the parking lot. You need to get down here.”

  “Like, now?”

  “Now is good,” he said. He didn’t sound worried as much as cautious. Reserving judgment. Something was happening, but his tone didn’t tell me anything about what that was.

  “On my way.” I grabbed my jacket and bag, rushed down the stairs and through the lobby and out the front doors.

  The vampires were waiting outside.

  Chapter 12

  TALL AND imperious, Angelo stood with his courtiers, a dozen other vampires ranged behind him, tense and wary, like they were getting ready for a fight. The vampire eurotrash army, gathered for war. Some I recognized, some I didn’t, and I noted again that I’d never known exactly how many vampires lived in Denver. Braun, the bouncer from Psalm 23, was absent, I noticed. A couple of other vampires I knew by sight were missing. So, this wasn’t the whole Family.

  I might hold my own against just one of them, maybe even Angelo. At least long enough to get away. Against all of them? I wouldn’t even get away.

  They were focused on me, which meant they might not have known that Ben was in the parking lot at the side of the building. I didn’t dare glance over, drawing their attention to my mate. Then again, they might have had colleagues keeping watch over the parking lot.

  Ben could take care of himself. I had to pay attention to what was in front of me.

  “Angelo? What’s going on?”

  Angelo stepped forward, regarding me with a sad, pitying gaze. “Katherine. Kitty. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  He managed to sound even more world-weary than usual, but it was a put-on. He was anxious; his hands were balled into fists at his sides. His gang of vampires didn’t seem casual—they were looking around, keeping watch.

  “No,” I said. “But I can see how it might look that way.”

  “I warned you. Whatever else happens, remember that I warned you.”

  I frowned. “What’s going to happen? What do you know?”

  “It’s not too late,” he said. I’d never heard a vampire sound so desperate, without a stake actually pointed at his chest. “You can still leave, and all will be forgiven.”

  I backed toward the parking lot, step by cautious step. Something was very wrong, and Wolf was howling to get out of here before it was too late. Get to Ben, get into the car, find some stakes, and a cavalry.

  Had to keep him talking, to give me time to get to Ben.

  “I get it,” I said. “You’re trying to protect me. You have my best interests at heart—or whatever’s left of your heart. That’s cool. Except that’s not it, is it? You look like someone trying to cover his own ass. You’re trying to get rid of me because someone put you up to it. Is that it? You’re under orders—get rid of me or else?”

  Angelo reached under his collar, pulled out a coin on a cord. One of Roman’s coins.

  “Oh, Angelo.” I wasn’t so much disappointed in him as I was disappointed that my lack of faith in him had been confirmed.

  He didn’t look defiant, or determined, or evil. He looked lost.

  “I don’t want to destroy you,” he said. “If you simply leave, I will not have to destroy you.”

  Destroy—a particularly vampiric word. Vampires couldn’t be killed because they were already dead. But they could be destroyed. A very serious word for him to use.

  “Oh, so you’re just being lazy, trying to save yourself some actual work,” I said, when I probably should have just shut up and run.

  What did it mean, that he actually seemed sad when he said, “I truly am sorry for this.”

  Four of his entourage lunged for me, and they were too fast, like I knew they would be. A whole four—I should have been flattered.

  I ran. I’d already been braced for it, and power surged through me, launching me forward. It wasn’t enough. One managed to swing in front of me, and when I swerved, another blocked my path. My pulling up to try to change direction gave the two vampires behind me a chance to grab my arms and wrench them back. Another put his arm around my neck to choke me.

  I struggled, dropping my weight, yanking with all my strength in an effort to break free. I managed to knock the two holding my arms off balance, dragging them with me. The one around my neck stumbled, but kept hold, so I mostly strangled myself. A pain, as my neck wrenched at an angle it really shouldn’t be in.

  Werewolves were tough, with almost limitless fast healing. Mostly indestructible, I liked to say when I was being snarky. Beheading killed us, high explosives, extreme blood loss. Silver. We were fast, and strong. But vampires were faster. I didn’t break free, not that time.

  Teeth bared, I snarled. My fingers clenched and I twisted to rake them against my captors. They burned, claws ready to sprout, to tear. My jaw ached, teeth ready to grow.

  “Stop!” a voice shouted across the wide space in front of the building. Ben, snarling the command.

  And everyone stopped. It was beautiful. I tried again to use weight and speed to break free, but the vampires kept their grips solid, alas.

  “Let her go.” Ben moved into view, crossbow leveled at Angelo.

  For a moment, the vampire’s threatening demeanor slipped. “Are you any good with that thing?”

  “Wanna find out?” Ben said, lips curling to show teeth.

  One of the minions, fueled by pure reactive instinct, growled and charged. Ben shifted aim and fired, and the wooden bolt struck true, right through the guy’s undead heart. The vampire crumpled, knees buc
kling as his skin desiccated, his body drying out, decaying, becoming a husk as it hit the ground. He hadn’t been terribly old—only a few decades of the grave caught up with him.

  That made everyone pause.

  Quickly, cleanly, Ben put his foot in the stirrup and cocked the crossbow back to reload. He also had wooden spears lying on the ground beside him.

  The scene froze for a moment while the respective sides considered the next play. Ben stepped forward, closer to Angelo, the point of the second bolt aimed decisively at his chest. The vampire entourage flinched back. Someone hissed; it seemed a reflexive noise of anger and frustration, laughably cliché.

  “Let her go,” Angelo said as if it pained him. His shoulders slumped, defeated, as if Ben had already shot him.

  The vampires let me go, slipping past me like ghosts, glaring at me as they drifted back to their entourage poses. Catching my breath, I shook loose the kink in my neck and my aching shoulders. I moved to stand with Ben, wondering … might he just up and shoot the guy? And would I even fault him for it? He was holding steady, for now.

  I faced Angelo. “You blew up New Moon because Roman told you to. Right?” He didn’t say anything, which I took as a yes, so I pressed. “And my pack—you did something, you know something—”

  “No,” he said. He smiled, but it was a sour, mean look. “We were supposed to find them. Capture them all and put them in cages to use as hostages to control you. You wouldn’t leave Denver or quit the Long Game if we simply asked. But you would, to protect them. There could be no better pawns.” He chuckled, a bit madly.

  Let me go, let me kill … Wolf surged with rage, pressing against my control. Baring my teeth, I stepped forward—and Angelo flinched. Small victory.

  “But, Kitty, they were already gone,” he said. “We couldn’t find them. I don’t know where they are.”

  I blinked, confused, because if Angelo and the vampires hadn’t done something to the pack, I didn’t have a clue what had happened. I had to scramble to think, with Wolf rumbling under my rib cage.

  “It’s not too late, Angelo,” I said softly. “Take off the coin, smash it. It’s not too late to come back.”

  His minions looked at me, looked at him. I couldn’t tell what they were thinking, and I couldn’t meet any of their gazes, to try to silently persuade them to my way of thinking.

  Angelo stepped forward; Ben threatened with the crossbow, and the vampire stopped. But he reached, begging.

  “Kitty. Katherine. Please listen to me, you don’t understand. I had to do what I did. You told me to protect Denver, and that’s what I’ve done. They’re going to destroy Denver if we don’t do what they say. And they can do it. They can do it.”

  His job as Master was to protect Denver, and he saw siding with Roman as the best way to do that. And I’d been trying to protect Denver from him.

  “You should have come to me. We could have stood against him together. Rick would have stood against him!”

  Angelo spat. “Rick isn’t here, is he? This is why he never should have left! I told you I wasn’t strong enough!”

  I couldn’t argue with that.

  Abruptly, the vampire looked skyward. “And now … it’s too late.” Something had startled him.

  I smelled brimstone.

  “Ben!” I hissed, grabbing his shirt, prepared to drag him away.

  First, though, he fired the crossbow, and it would have hit Angelo if the demon hadn’t snatched it out of the air first.

  At first I thought it was a stray burst of wind knocking it off course, maybe a sign of weather coming in from the mountains. But the wind was followed by a gloved hand reaching out, a body shifting from blurred movement to visibility. It was as if she stepped through a door made of wind that slapped at the leather straps of her armor as she came to stand between us and the vampires.

  “Do you happen to have your gun with you?” I asked Ben.

  He was busy cocking the crossbow again. “Yeah. You think it’ll do any good?”

  “No, but it might make us feel better.”

  “Cormac would be very proud of you for saying that,” he said.

  The demon had a silver knife drawn—I didn’t want that thing anywhere near us. But she didn’t come after us; she had all her attention focused on Angelo.

  “The wolf is still alive,” Ashtoreth said to the Master vampire. “She is a traitor to her kind—as are you.”

  Angelo’s fangs showed, and his eyes were wide with desperation. “No. No, she isn’t. Watch, I will still kill her, I will—”

  He rushed past Ashtoreth and flew at me, a shadow with fangs and killing hands. Ben fired again; Angelo swerved midstride. The bolt pierced his arm, but he hardly noticed. His hands closed around my neck, squeezed hard, knocked me over. He was too fast to dodge.

  My head banged on the concrete. I choked, then I scratched, clawing at him with fingers that were growing sharp and weaponish.

  More vampires were on Ben before he could fire again, biting and punching. He couldn’t reach his other weapons. He writhed, flinched, hit, scrambled—managed to stay out of their reach by moving, always moving.

  I smelled blood, mine and his. I had a gash on my arm where Angelo’s teeth had dug in and I’d pulled away. Another vampire appeared behind me, one of the women from the nightclub. She grabbed my arms, wrenched them back. I hollered and kicked, but she held tight.

  “No! I’ll kill her myself, I have to kill her myself!” Angelo was so furious the woman just let me go.

  I lunged forward toward Angelo, and managed to knock him off balance, but he came right back, grabbing my neck, throwing me down.

  Something in my arm cracked. Bone—I’d stuck my hand out to catch myself. There was pain; I tucked my arm close to my body and tried to run. I needed a bolt, a spear, a tree branch, anything.

  Angelo grabbed my foot and I crashed to the ground again.

  It was chaos, and Ashtoreth stood aside to watch, calmly, unperturbed.

  “Kitty!” Ben yelled, somehow breaking free from the three vampires attacking him. He had blood streaming from his face, his arms, and his eyes were golden, wolfish.

  I looked up to see a staff lofting toward me. He’d tossed over one of the wooden javelins. I grabbed it with my good hand, forced my broken one to clasp it. Angelo was coming at me. I scrambled to my feet, pointed, thrust as hard as I could, howling, running into the vampire with all my strength.

  The point slipped between ribs, right through his heart.

  One of the vampires screamed. They all stopped; Ben backed off, a long wooden stake in hand, sweeping to clear a space around him.

  I kept hold of the wooden staff, and Angelo fell at my feet, groaning, not in pain or fear but in pure anger. Hundreds of years old and he wasn’t done yet. His body dried out, crumbled, blackening to ash, and his mouth stayed open. Somehow he looked straight at me, caught my gaze, grimacing. “Kitty. Obsidian. Go there, Obsidian. Kitty!” The sound died to a screech, his teeth bared as the lips pulled away, blackened, ash scattering on the breath of his last words. He’d held on long enough to scream in desperation—to scream my name.

  I howled, dropping the spear. I hadn’t wanted to kill him. I’d never wanted to kill anyone. A coin lay among the ashes of his remains. Belonging to Roman hadn’t saved him.

  The vampires, Angelo’s minions, backed away, staring with shock. They could have kept fighting, but their will, their Master, had been destroyed. And I’d destroyed him. What would they do to me?

  They ran. Faster than the eye could see, vanishing into the shadows like puffs of smoke. This wasn’t their fight anymore.

  And now we were going to have to figure out how to deal with the demon, all on our own, without magic.

  “Ashtoreth!” I called. I wanted to see if she responded, and how she felt about me knowing her name.

  She looked; her lips pressed together, some indeterminate acknowledgment. Goggles covered her eyes, and I couldn’t read her expression. I wanted
at least a grimace, to know if I was pissing her off.

  “Why are you here?” I demanded. My voice was rough, on the edge of a growl. “Did I do your work for you this time? Were you here to kill him like you killed Mercedes?”

  Now, her lip curled. “It must all seem so simple to you. If you just find the right words to say, you will be saved. But you will not be saved.”

  “Kitty!” Ben called.

  I stumbled to his side. The pain in my arm was agonizing, so I kept it tucked in. I squinted; blood on my face made my eyes sting. Ben’s shirt was torn, and he was bleeding from a dozen wounds. But we were both on our feet. We’d made it this far.

  He held his semiautomatic in both hands and fired at Ashtoreth. Three clear, ringing shots.

  They went through her. I saw them hit with puffs of smoke. But she didn’t react, didn’t even flinch. The leather of her armor seemed to seal back over the wounds. She drew spears off the holster across her back. Two of them, tipped with gleaming silver, flashing like mercury in the glow of the streetlights. She’d throw them at us, and we’d be dead.

  Shift, fight, tear her throat out …

  Not with all that silver.

  “Do we have time to run?” I murmured.

  “What have we got to lose, I say.”

  Not that we could run fast enough. In tandem and without discussion, we stumbled backward into the parking lot and toward the car, like a couple of losers in a horror movie. I dug in my pockets for a spare amulet, hoping I’d forgotten something there. A cross, a rabbit’s foot, a can of mace, anything.

  Ashtoreth was an assassin, and she was unstoppable. We didn’t have a whole lot to say about what happened.

  Those damned goggles, if I could just get them off … I was too far away to go around her reach, and she had too much silver for me to get close. She cocked back her arm, ready to throw both spears at us. We’d split, we’d dodge, we could get out of this.

  A car pulled into the parking lot—a nondescript white sedan, the kind you’d rent. Two men sat in the front, silhouettes visible through the reflection cast by streetlights on the windshield. We all stopped to look, even the demon.