Kitty and the Silver Bullet (Kitty Norville 4)

“Oh, probably.”

“Should we go meet her? Where’d you put the gun? Ergh—” He tried to get to his feet, then slumped back, halted by pain.

“I dropped it. I’ll look for it in a minute. Hardin’ll take care of herself.”

Sure enough, five minutes later, Hardin and a half-dozen officers came from the street, emerging around the cottonwoods. They fanned out, like they expected resistance in force, and they all had weapons drawn.

The wolves, the pack, had gone, fading into the hills. Only Ben and I remained, covered in drying blood, sitting in the dry summer grass, drenched in the morning light.

I put my hands harmlessly in the air and tried not to look like a target. “Hi, Detective.”

“Kitty? What’s going on here? Is everything okay? Oh, my God!”

She’d gotten her first look at us. We were a mess.

“It’s over. It’s all over,” I said.

She hesitated, clearly at a loss for words. Not that I could blame her. Frankly, I didn’t much care what she made of all this anymore. She could figure it out on her own.

“Do you need to go to a hospital?” she said finally, picking what seemed to be the most immediate problem.

Ben wore a punchy grin. Either he was feeling better or he’d completely lost it. “Naw. I just need to spend a day in bed with my girlfriend taking care of me.”

Awe, he was so cute. A day in bed . . . sounded great. I wondered—was he too hurt to cuddle?

I asked, “Do you need us for statements or anything or can we go?”

“I ought to lock you both up,” she said.

I batted my eyelashes innocently. Please, no more, just let me sleep . . .

She sighed. “Go. But I’ll call you later.”

“Thanks. Oh—and Dack’s still loose,” I said.

Hardin shook her head and smiled. “My guy staking out the house caught him speeding in a car I suspect is stolen. We’ve taken him into custody.”

“Silver-painted cell?”

“You got it.”

“And everyone lived happily ever after,” Ben said, smiling vacantly.

Wow, I needed to get him home before he really did lose it. “Come on, Prince Charming.” He had to lean on me and move very slowly, but he managed to stand. He was creaking like an old man.

“Don’t forget the gun,” Ben said.

Hardin looked at me. Watched me the whole time while I hunted around in the grass. I finally found it by the smell of spent powder.

“Do you have a permit for that?” sh

e demanded.

“Yes, I do,” I said quickly, returning to Ben’s side.

She opened her mouth, pointed at me like she was going to say one thing. Then she shook her head. “You stay out of trouble. Try to stay out of trouble.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Detective.” I pulled Ben’s arm around my shoulder and encouraged him to lean on me as we walked.