Kitty and the Silver Bullet (Kitty Norville 4)

“If you don’t want trouble then who is he?” Carl nodded at Ben.

Ben stood close enough, just behind my shoulder, that I could feel his body heat. He hadn’t cowered before Carl’s and Meg’s bluster. I sensed some tension, some anxiety in him. But his back was straight, and his gaze steady. I was glad to have him at my side.

“He’s a friend. He’s only here because of me. You can leave him alone.”

Carl didn’t like him. He didn’t like the presence of a competent, self-assured male who didn’t owe him loyalty. Ben could stand there without flinching and Carl would take it as a challenge.

But Ben didn’t just stand there. Oh, no.

“So you’re Carl,” Ben said, taking a couple of slow steps forward and studiously looking Carl up and down. “I thought you’d be taller.”

I mentally slapped my forehead. But I had to admit, Ben always knew just what to say.

Snarling, Carl sprang forward, hands outstretched, fingers clawed. I braced, preparing to dodge, then run like hell. Ben, damn him, didn’t flinch at all because he must have guessed what was coming next.

Again, Arturo stopped Carl. In a flash of movement, he grabbed Carl’s arm and twisted it, using the bigger man’s momentum to divert him and drop him to his knees. His breath heaving, Carl struggled, his eyes gleaming with animal ferocity, ready to rip out of the vampire’s grip. But with his hand on Carl’s shoulder, Arturo only had to squeeze once to quiet him. I didn’t know where the strength came from—Arturo seemed to exert no effort.

Arturo said, “Let it go.”

“They’re a threat—”

“They’ve made no challenge. Let it go, Carl.”

Carl knelt there for a moment, panting, then shrugged away from Arturo’s grip.

Mercedes said, “This is utterly fascinating.” She continued to play the gracious hostess. “Come, sit. I’ve already poured the wine. To let it breathe.”

I had backed toward the wall, keeping hold of Ben’s sleeve, letting Rick stand between us and the others. “I’ll stay right here, thanks,” I murmured.

Carl started to move forward, but Arturo stepped in front of him. “No, you two are staying right there. I won’t have you dogs messing up the carpet.”

Arturo never lost his composure, his offhand manner and focused gaze. His apparent age was late twenties, but he had the weight of centuries behind his eyes. He had golden hair pulled back in a short tail, and an aristocratic face.

He and Rick exchanged a look, and I couldn’t read it. The two were close in age—both apparent and actual, from what I could gather. Age meant power among vampires, and the two should have been rivals, but they’d coexisted in some kind of alliance for years. Arturo was the Master in Denver, but Rick had some amount of autonomy within that territory.

Did Arturo suspect that Rick wanted to change the situation?

For now, they only seemed to want to coordinate their efforts at keeping the wolves under control.

Mercedes sat back and observed the drama she’d orchestrated. “Hmm, maybe the situation here isn’t as chaotic as I’d been led to believe. You boys seem to have things well in hand.”

“No thanks to you,” Arturo spat in his refined accent. “What’s your business here, Mercedes? Is it anything more than poking a stick in the burrow to see what strikes?”

“Isn’t that enough?” she said.

“More than enough,” he said, wearing a tight smile. “How long will you be here?”

“Oh, a few more days. Maybe a week. Or two.” She lifted her hand and studied her fingernails, a contrived gesture worthy of the stage.

This was Arturo’s territory as far as vampires were concerned, and he controlled it the same way Carl controlled it among the werewolves. He could tell her to leave. He could make threats and carry them out. So why didn’t he? What was her power here?

“Don’t look so put out,” she said to Arturo. “I’m only here out of curiosity. I heard some rumblings and I thought I’d come and make some observations.”

Arturo’s gaze narrowed, sizing her up. “For whom? Who are you working for these days, Mercedes?”

The question chilled me.

Everyone looked at her. But she was used to being the center of attention and didn’t wilt.