Kitty and the Silver Bullet (Kitty Norville 4)

“It’s Kitty, I need your help.”

“What’s wrong?” She sounded serious and businesslike, which heartened me.

“I think I’m in trouble. It’s the werewolves, they’re after me.”

“This has something to do with your little gang war, doesn’t it? I’m not going to pick sides.”

“My little gang war? I didn’t start it, I’m just trying to clean it up!”

“So you admit you’re involved?”

I couldn’t say anything right, could I? “I think these are the werewolves involved in those murders at the warehouse.”

“Are you sure?”

Then I realized that while I trusted Becky, we had no reason to believe that Mick was telling her the truth. Mick might not really be on our side. Carl might have told him to feed us the information, give us a false lead while he struck at another target.

At least, I might think that if I believed Carl had a clever cell in his entire brain.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“At the station. At KNOB.”

“I suppose you’re headed there now?” I told her yes, and she said, “I’ll meet you.” And hung up.

Looked like we were going to have us a rumble.

“You ready for this?” Ben said.

“I don’t know.”

“How many people you think he’ll have with him?”

“Six, seven maybe. More if Meg is with him, too.”

“And we’ve got the Denver PD. Not bad. What happens if Hardin and her people are late? Three of us can’t fight seven of them. Four if Shaun gets there in time.”

“Maybe I can talk to Carl. Talk him out of this.”

“Like Gabe did? You bring the gun?”

“No,” I said softly, knowing what he’d say to that. I was being weak. I was in denial. “Maybe I can claw him to death.”

“No worries. I’ve got the extras in the trunk.”

Extras. Plural. The more tired I got the more ludicrous this plan sounded.

“I don’t want to face him again.”

“You only have to face him until the police show up. Remember this isn’t about you. It’s for Jenny.”

That got me angry all over again. That, and the fact that Carl, predictably, hadn’t gone after me directly, but after something close to me. The part of me he’d never been able to touch—my job. What a jerk.

Far too quickly, Ben’s car roared into the station’s parking lot. Becky was already there, and Shaun pulled in right behind us. They were hunched and wary, in defensive fighting stances. They looked like they might spring into battle, or leap back in the car and drive off at the slightest hint of danger. I couldn’t decide which.

I jumped out of Ben’s car before it stopped completely. “Is he here yet?”