Kitty and the Midnight Hour (Kitty Norville 1)

“You’d get people with silver bullets gunning for you. For the last time, I do not advocate lycanthropy as a lifestyle choice. Next caller, please.”

“Um, yeah. Hi.”

“Hello.”

“I have a question for you. Werewolves and vampires—we’re stronger than humans. What’s to stop us from, oh, I don’t know . . . robbing banks? The police can’t stop us. Regular bullets don’t work. So why aren’t more of us out there wreaking havoc?”

“Human decency,” I said without thinking.

“But we’re not—”

“—human? Do you really believe that you’re not human?”

“Well, no. How can I be?”

I crossed my arms and sighed. “The thing I keep hearing from all the people I talk to is that despite what they are and what they can do, they still want to be a part of human society. Society has benefits, even for them. So they take part in the social contract. They agree to live by human rules. Which means they don’t go around ‘wreaking havoc.’ And that’s why, ultimately, I think we can all find a way to live together.”

Wow. I shocked myself sometimes with how reasonable I made all this sound. I might even have believed it. No, I had to believe it, or I wouldn’t be doing the show.

The caller hesitated before saying, “So I tell you I’m a werewolf, and you’ll tell me that you think I’m human?”

He couldn’t know that he was asking me to label myself. “Yes. And if you live in the human world, you have to live by human laws.”

The trick with this show was confidence. I only had to sound like I

knew what I was talking about.

“Yeah, well, thanks.”

“Thanks for calling. Hello, James, you’re on the air.”

“I have a question, Kitty.” His voice came low and muffled, like he was speaking too close to the handset.

“Okay.”

“Does a werewolf need to be in a pack? Can’t he just be on his own?” A sense of longing tainted the question.

“I suppose, theoretically, a werewolf doesn’t need a pack. Why do you ask?”

“Curious. Just curious. It seems like no one on your show ever talks about being a werewolf without a pack. Do they?”

“You’re right, I don’t hear much about werewolves without hearing about packs. I think—” This was where the show got tricky: How much could I talk about without bringing up personal experience, without giving something away? “I think packs are important to werewolves. They offer safety, protection, a social group. Also control. They’re not going to want a rogue wolf running around making a mess of things and drawing attention to the rest of them. A pack is a way to keep tabs on all the lycanthropes in an area. Same thing for vampire Families.”

“But just because a werewolf is on his own doesn’t mean he’s automatically going to go out and start killing people. Does it?” The guy was tense. Even over the phone I could hear an edge to his voice.

“What do you think, James?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I called you. You’re always talking about how anybody, even monsters, can choose what they do, can choose whether or not they’re going to let their natures control them, or rise above all that. But can we really? Maybe—maybe if I don’t have a pack . . . if I don’t want to have anything to do with a pack . . . maybe that’s my own way of taking control. I’m not giving in. I don’t have to be like that. I can survive on my own. Can’t I? Can’t I?”

I couldn’t do it. From the night I was attacked until now, someone—T.J., Carl, or somebody—had been there to tell me I was going to be okay, that I had friends. They helped me keep control. They gave me a place to go when I felt like losing it. I didn’t have to worry about hurting them. If I didn’t have that, what would I do? I’d be alone. How many people were there—people like James, who didn’t have packs or Families or anything—how many of them were listening to my show and thinking I had all the answers? That wasn’t what I’d planned when I started this.

Had there been a plan when I started this?

Who was I to think I could actually help some of these people? I couldn’t get along without my pack. Maybe James was different.

“I don’t know, James. I don’t know anything about your life. If you want me to sit here and validate you, tell you that yeah, you’re right, you don’t need a pack and everything’s going to be okay, I can’t do that. I don’t have the answers. I can only go by what I hear and think. Look at your life and decide if you’re happy with it. If you can live with it and the people around you can live with it, fine, great, you don’t need a pack. If you’re not happy, decide why that is and do something about it. Maybe a pack would help, maybe not. This is a strange, strange world we’re talking about. It’d be stupid to think that one rule applies to everyone.” I waited a couple of heartbeats. I could hear his breathing over the line. “James, you okay?”

Another heartbeat of a pause. “Yeah.”