Kitty Raises Hell (Kitty Norville 6)

Likely. Very likely. I didn’t want to think about it, so I turned away, biting my lip.

“Do you want to talk about some kind of police protection?” she said. She was being as nice as she’d ever been to me, but her voice was still businesslike, almost harsh, when what I wanted was for someone to pat me on the head and say, “There, there.”

Ben said, “Police protection isn’t going to do a whole lot of good for people burning up from the inside.”

“I can’t sit around doing nothing,” she said, scowling.

“Trust me, Detective, as soon as I find the magic spell that will make all this go away, I’ll let you know,” I said.

She made an offhand gesture that might have been saying, touché. “I’ll keep digging on my end. But the usual request applies: If you find out anything, let me know, right?”

“You too, I hope.”

“Will do. Thanks for stopping by.”

She escorted us to the front door, said the farewells, then went back in. I almost said something to her about taking a break, getting some sleep, food, fresh clothes. I was worried about her and didn’t want her to burn out—metaphorically or literally, given the circumstances. Every time I saw her she looked harried beyond all reason. But the door closed, she was gone, and I lost my chance.

Leaning against Ben, I prompted a hug. We clung to each other, squeezing comfort into each other.

I muttered into Ben’s shoulder, “This isn’t a coincidence, this can’t be a coincidence. Spontaneous human combustion isn’t spontaneous when you’re being haunted by a heat-generating demon.”

“That makes sense,” Ben agreed.

“This is my fault. I’m the reason this is happening, and now I’ve put everyone in danger—”

“Kitty. You couldn’t help it. You couldn’t know. What were you supposed to do, let those guys in Vegas kill you?” Ben said.

If I could go back, knowing what I knew now, knowing I could save Mick’s life, maybe everyone’s life . . . I might have let them kill me. I looked at him, despairing, my eyes large and shining.

“Let’s go home,” he said and kissed the top of my head.

“Even though we might burst into flames with no warning at any minute?”

“Kitty.” He gave me a reprimanding look.

In the car and on the road, I slumped and looked out the window, watching the world go by. Wondering how to stop an enemy that we couldn’t see, couldn’t identify, couldn’t anticipate.

I said, “I can’t believe I’m the closest thing he has to next of kin.” It wasn’t fair that he didn’t have anyone. I hadn’t known him well enough to be the emergency contact in his wallet.

“You might not have noticed, but most people who get stuck as werewolves aren’t the kind who have close ties to big families. Present company excepted, of course.”

“I’d noticed,” I said. “I am constantly reminded that this isn’t the life I signed up for.”

“Does that include me?” He quirked a wry smile.

Erp. I could see now how my statement could be taken the wrong way. Especially since a relationship with Ben had been about as unexpected as getting attacked by a werewolf in the first place.

I leaned my head on his shoulder. “I’m the last person to complain about the pleasant little surprises that happen along the way.”

It was the unpleasant ones I was getting sick of.

Near home, I spotted a familiar motorcycle and rider in the rearview mirror. Same helmet, same jacket, following about three cars back. Peter, still at it. I wished I had gotten a phone number from him, so I could call him. Tell him to stop this. He wasn’t going to learn anything I hadn’t already told him, and I really didn’t want him getting caught up in this demon business.

My first job was to tell the rest of the pack what had happened. We’d lost one of our own, and anybody could be next.

Ben took the notepad where I kept everyone’s contact info away from me. “I’ll make the calls,” Ben said. “I’m a lawyer, I’m used to giving people bad news.”

I let him. That left me to call Odysseus Grant.