Kitty Takes a Holiday (Kitty Norville 3)

“Lost my temper? Sure.” He smiled a little. “Or do you mean representing Cormac? You keep saying you and I are a pack and we have to look out for each other. I feel like Cormac is part of my pack. I have to protect him. The wolf side would do anyth

ing to protect him.” He flexed his hands, like he could already feel that anger, that determination, waking up inside him.

I touched his hand, to bring him back to himself. He let out a nervous breath.

“I’ll go with you,” I said.

Looking away, he nodded. “I was hoping you would.”

I hadn’t ever considered not going.

The truth was, the thought of him leaving me here, of being alone after all that, made me ill. Between that and the queasy, injured feeling that still lingered after the fight, I wanted to throw up. I wasn’t okay at all, and I wasn’t going to sit around waiting for the next curse to arrive.

chapter 13

We took my car, and in forty minutes arrived at the sheriff’s department and county jail in Walsenburg. Marks had booked Cormac by the time we got into the building, and the hunter was ensconced in a back room, out of sight.

Marks glared at us over the front desk. “He’s already asking for his lawyer. You want to get back here so we can take his statement?”

Ben was tense. I knew him well enough by now that I could tell without touching him.

“You’ll be fine,” I said. “Just breathe slow and think about keeping it in. Stay calm.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Yup.” I tried to make my smile encouraging.

He straightened his shoulders and stalked forward like a man preparing to go into battle.

I’d seen him talk down cops before. I’d seen him face a panel of senators and hold them off. In those cases he’d had this hawk’s stare, the fierce-eyed glare of a hunter that had always instilled confidence in me, because he was always on my side.

The hawk was gone. I should have seen it, but it wasn’t there. Instead, he looked like he’d been cornered.

I watched him go, wringing my hands on his behalf. Then all I could do was wait in the lobby on a hard plastic chair, leafing through copies of news magazines a month out of date. I wanted to climb the walls. The place was clean, not terribly old or worn out. But it smelled of sweat and fatigue. It was not a good place. People ended up here when they’d hit bottom, or were about to hit bottom.

My wounds still itched. They should have been almost healed. Cursed, Tony had said. I hadn’t realized how much I took the quick healing for granted. Then again, if I didn’t have rapid healing, I wouldn’t go around intercepting attacking wolves.

I watched the clock. Hours later, after midnight, Ben came back to the lobby. He was pale, ill-looking, and sweat dampened his hair. He looked like he’d run a race, not talked with the cops. I stood and met him.

He smelled musky, animal, like his wolf was rising to the surface. I took hold of his hand. “Keep it together, Ben. Take a deep breath.”

He did, and it shuddered when he let it out. “I don’t know what Cormac did earlier, but Marks has it in for him. He already called the prosecutor. They want to file charges. Six eyewitnesses saw Cormac save your life, and they want to press charges. They won’t set bail until the advisement hearing tomorrow. And I just sat there and stared at them.”

“How does this usually work? You make it sound like this isn’t the way things normally go for you guys.”

“Usually I have plenty of evidence that Cormac had a good reason for doing whatever he did, and the charges don’t even get filed. But we have a couple of problems this time. Somebody around here wants to make a reputation for themselves.”

“Marks?”

“Marks and George Espinoza, a very earnest prosecutor who’s probably never encountered anything more serious than trespassing.” His tone was harsh.

“And?” There was an “and” in there.

“She was already dying when he killed her. It was excessive force, even for Cormac. That’s the argument Espinoza’s going to use.”

This was going to be about splitting hairs. Cormac did what he had to—I could convince myself of that. A hundred horror movie climaxes said he did the right thing.

But how would a judge see it?