Kitty Takes a Holiday (Kitty Norville 3)

So. I once had a friend who died for me, and now one who killed for me. Why didn’t I feel lucky?

Ben turned his back on Lawrence and hissed at me. “We’re not getting anywhere. He’s not going to tell us anything.”

“What do you want me to tell?” Lawrence said, and Ben flinched—he thought he’d been whispering. “That she was evil? That I am evil? Do you expect me to tell everything I know as some kind of atonement? What’s done is done. Nothing will change it. Nothing will make it better. The dead don’t come back.”

“Wouldn’t bet on that,” I muttered.

“I don’t have any proof for you. I can tell you that Miriam killed Joan, but the police have no record of it. The doctors say it was natural, not witchcraft. Three of my grandchildren are dead, but you won’t find anyone here who will admit that they were ever alive. That’s what it is to be a witch here.”

“Then why do it? If it makes you disappear.” If it made you live in a place like this, isolated, other.

“It never starts out that way. But the line between medicine man and witch, curandero and bruja, is very thin. The magic comes from the same place. The danger comes with the spells that pull you one way or another. Miriam saw what her brother became, and she wanted it. Donning the coat of a wolf, tasting blood—it pulls you toward the darkness. You understand this. Both of you. You live in the dark because it’s what you are.”

I did understand, and hated that I did. Wolf seemed to prick her ears up at the very mention of the word blood. Beside me, Ben stood frozen, staring. His eyes weren’t his own, not entirely. Something wolfish swam in them. I had to get him out of here. But I wanted more answers.

“Why did she kill Joan?”

“She had a sister to spare? I don’t know. Didn’t anyone warn you about asking too many questions around here?”

“Who did you kill in trade for your powers?”

He hid a smile with a bowed head. “It’s a good thing for a witch to have a large family.”

My stomach lurched into my throat; I wanted badly to throw up. I took hold of Ben’s arm and squeezed too hard.

Lawrence continued. “Bodies disappear out here. You go out to the desert, a body gets dried up and covered with sand in a day. In a month it’s nothing but bones. You tell anyone you were coming out here?”

“Let’s go.” I wrenched Ben’s arm and steered him out of there. The door to Lawrence’s shack slipped closed behind us.

Back in the open air, I felt light-headed, giddy—free. I almost ran to the car.

Ben was stewing. Fuming. His shoulders hunched, his fists closed. He kicked the dirt on our path.

“He knows, but we’ll never get him into court. He knows Cormac did the world a favor putting a bullet in her. Hell—that guy probably needs a bullet put in him.”

“Calm down. We’ll figure something out. We still have leads.” But we were running out of them. I tried to stay positive.

I stopped a few paces from the car. Something wasn’t right. A sound tickled my throat—the start of a growl.

“Kitty.” Ben’s voice was tight. He moved toward me, so our shoulders touched. Side by side, protected—but from what?

A mountain lion leapt onto the roof of my car.

It had dodged around us in a couple of strides and made the jump without effort, so quickly I hadn’t sensed it coming. Or maybe it had simply been able to slip by without us noticing. The thing was huge, solid, with thick limbs and a wedge-shaped face. It sat tall, its tail wrapped around its paws, looking for all the world like a house cat surveying its domain. Its tan fur was flat and slick, and dark smudges marked its eyes. Red eyes, bright as garnets.

Like somebody in a slapstick comedy, I looked back to the shack, then back at the mountain lion. And yes, the shack’s door stood open.

“Kitty…” Ben murmured, taking my hand.

“Me or it?”

“Not funny.”

We backed away.

The lion jumped off the car and stalked toward us, head low, tail flicking like a whip. Red eyes flashed.

Had to think of a plan. Had to do something. Couldn’t just let this thing hypnotize me with its terrible gaze. All I wanted to do was scream. But I recognized the freezing terror that was numbing my limbs. I’d felt this when Miriam attacked me. Had to break out of the witch’s spell somehow.