Kitty Raises Hell (Kitty Norville 6)

Roman called out again, repeating the same forceful words. He commanded with the will and confidence of someone who was used to having his orders obeyed, who wasn’t used to being questioned. No wonder he’d been annoyed with me.

This was a battle of wills. Roman stared ahead at his opponent, like he actually could see the demon’s shape.

The sound of billowing flame answered him again, but weaker this time. I still couldn’t see the form of the creature making this sound. I kept thinking if I squinted, I would see a shimmering outline, a wavering humanoid shape, like a heat mirage.

He repeated the phrase one more time, and the sound of flame vanished. Roman’s head tilted back, his gaze flickering upward, as if he watched something fly away. Then he frowned, flexing his hands, massaging them together, like they were sore, aching.

I ventured outside the safety of the protective circle; the brimstone smell was gone.

Roman glanced at me. His cold, frowning gaze made me flinch. “I just saved your life,” he said.

I took a deep breath before speaking, to keep my voice from shaking. Not sure if it worked. “Um . . . thanks?”

“This is temporary. It will kill you eventually if you don’t do something.”

“Do you know what it wants?” I said. “You can really tell what it wants? Then why don’t you tell me?”

He scowled, his chiseled face turning hard with frown lines.

When he kept silent, I continued. “What was that you said? What language?”

Now the stone face shifted to a smile. “Per vi mei, averte.”

I heard the words, but I’d never remember them to look them up. I wished I had a tape recorder. “You going to teach me that little trick?”

“Now that you’ve seen what I can do, will you let me help you?” he said.

That made me angry, the idea that he had the power to stop this thing, but he wouldn’t do it without me promising a big chunk of my soul in return.

“This could all still be a show for my benefit,” I said. “The con game again. You could have staged all this in a last-ditch effort to get me to agree to your terms.”

He turned away, muttering, but my hearing was good and I picked up what he said: “Stupid wolf.”

I so didn’t have the time or patience for this. Setting my shoulders, I stalked forward, past him, not sparing him a glance.

“You’re being foolish,” he said.

I turned, scowled. Knew better than to launch myself at him, fingers curled like claws, as if I could really do him damage or even intimidate him. I’d seen a vampire drop a werewolf twice as large as I was without flinching. Roman might have been just waiting for me to lose my temper.

“Here’s the thing,” I said in my calm, careful DJ voice, like I might use to explain dirt to an idiot. It was the best way I knew to attack anyone. “You don’t care what happens to me. This demon could shred me limb from limb right now and you wouldn’t care.” I refrained from glancing worriedly over my shoulder. That was just what I needed, to have the demon lurking nearby, waiting for an invitation of the Murphy’s Law variety. “You could make this thing vanish anytime you want, and I believe you. I also believe you don’t care about stopping it. You’re using it as a stepping stone to something else, taking advantage of a difficult situation to get what you want. And that makes you a manipulative, amoral son of a bitch. Now tell me why I should put myself in the position of owing a manipulative, amoral son of a bitch a favor?”

I expected a retort, something along the lines of usual smug vampire haughtiness. Or more accusations and name-calling. Either way, I’d just turn around and walk away. I had nothing else to say.

But Roman didn’t reply right away. He regarded me with that annoyed curl to his lips and studied me, like he could see through me. I turned and walked away because I couldn’t take that stare for another second.

“Kitty,” he said. I paused but didn’t turn around. I shouldn’t even have done that much. I should have kept walking to the car, then driven away. Not that it would have helped any when he said in that same commanding exorcist’s voice, “Lupus vincens.”

He spoke the words clearly and carefully, and this time I recognized the language. I could guess enough Latin to know what it meant.

“What?” I said, turning, and he said the words again, stronger this time, and a cramp ran from my gut to my skull, dropping me to my knees. Goose bumps broke out all over my skin, like needles pricking me. My bag fell off my shoulder as I hugged myself. Another wave of cramps wracked my whole body this time, every muscle clenching.

Another body inside me was bucking, fighting to break free. I knew this feeling, I recognized what was happening, but it had never happened like this before. Never so violent. Usually, shifting felt like Wolf was breaking out from the inside. Now she was being ripped free from the outside.

I screamed a rage-filled denial. Was this supposed to scare me? Was this supposed to prove how much power he really had? My muscles spasmed, teeth and claws trying to tear out of human skin. Hunched over, I tried to keep from hyperventilating. Looking up, I expected to see Roman standing over me, gloating, sneering. He kept his distance, though, and didn’t smile. His frown seemed almost disgusted. I couldn’t guess by what: this scene of torture he’d created? By the fact that I wouldn’t agree to his terms? By the mere fact that I was an inferior, stupid wolf?

I could have fought it. I wasn’t so far gone that I couldn’t pull it back. I’d pulled back from farther than this before. But I decided not to. I decided I needed to fly. At him.

I ripped my shirt over my head and let go.