Kitty Takes a Holiday (Kitty Norville 3)

“Don’t talk until I get there,” Ben said.

“Yeah, I know the drill.” Handcuffed now, he went with Marks to his patrol car without argument.

“Joe, Alice, watch the body. Don’t let anyone touch anything until the coroner gets here. Nobody leave until I get your statements,” Marks said. The two were clinging to each other. Quick glances told that they’d heard him, but they didn’t move.

I felt like I’d landed in a bad episode of some prime-time police show. Dead body, unlikely circumstances, too much drama.

“You want to go inside and get cleaned up?” Ben said.

I supposed I ought to. I felt like I’d been through a shredder. “Yeah. Should you go with Cormac?”

He looked after the pair, uncertain, his lips pressed together. “As soon as you’re okay.”

He helped me to my feet. My shoulders were stiff, and blood covered the front of my shirt. Another T-shirt ruined.

Tony had withdrawn, holding himself apart, hands folded in front of him. The candles had all gone out. I hadn’t noticed how dark the clearing had become.

“That thing cut you,” he said. “You’re cursed. You’re both cursed.” He nodded after Cormac.

“Story of my life,” I said. “Any recommendations?”

“A man can only meddle so much. Sometimes you just have to let things run their course.”

That was the sort of thing people said when they had no idea what to do next. “Thanks,” I muttered.

“I don’t think you understand. That magic, the trade one must make to become a skinwalker—it’s terrible. It’s supposed to be too terrible to think about. But she did it, clearly. She sacrificed someone in her own family to work the blood magic.” He held himself stiffly, the horror clear in his manner.

“I’m already a werewolf,” I said. “So what are these cuts going to turn me into?”

Tony shrugged. “God knows. I tell you, though, this isn’t over.”

Well, no silver for him. I knew better than to ask how much worse this could get.

I started toward the

cabin, wincing. I had to lean on Ben, because my whole body felt like glass on the verge of shattering.

Joe’s words startled me because he spoke so seldom. “I can’t believe you’re all right. I thought you were dead. You ought to be dead after that.”

“If I wasn’t a werewolf, I would be dead.” I still couldn’t see how bad it was. My whole front was dark and shining with blood.

So much for the ritual of peacemaking. This situation had ramped up to a whole new level of surreal and frightening. I probably should have just left town. None of this would have happened.

I didn’t want everyone to leave feeling like this.

“Do you guys want to come inside for some coffee? Or I might have some tea somewhere.” Or a bottle of whiskey.

Joe and Alice exchanged a glance. Alice nodded, and the two of them approached.

“You, too,” I said to Tony. “If you can stand being so close to someone who’s as badly cursed as I am.”

Tony hesitated for such a long time I thought he was going to refuse. That I was so tainted he really couldn’t stand being near me, even though he’d declared me “not evil” earlier that day. I couldn’t believe this was still the same day.

Then he said, “I have some tea. It should help. It helps to drink it when you’ve had a fright.”

It certainly couldn’t hurt. I hoped.

“Okay,” I said, and he went to his truck.