Kitty Goes to War (Kitty Norville 8)

“Hello, Doctor,” I said. “Are they ready to go?”

“Just about, I think. I’ve asked them wait inside while we talk.”

I glanced at Ben; his expression was neutral. One of his courtroom faces, which made me pretty sure he wasn’t going to like what Shumacher was about to say any more than I would. She had a tension to her—tight lips and stiff shoulders.

“What’s the problem?” I said.

“I need to know where you’ll be tonight,”

Of course she did. I shook my head. “I can’t tell you that, Doctor.”

“I have to know where you’re taking my patients.” She straightened, trying to make herself look taller; we were about the same height. She’d probably been working herself up to this conversation all day. She smelled nervous, sweating under her coat.

“I’m sorry, but this isn’t just about your patients. It’s about my pack. I need to keep them safe and that means no outsiders. As long as Tyler and Walters are with me they’re part of my pack.”

“But I have to monitor them, I have to record their progress, and if something were to go wrong—”

“So you can have Colonel Stafford there with the tranquilizer guns? Around my wolves? No.” And I realized that she’d probably been planning it. Stafford and his soldiers were probably on alert, waiting for Shumacher’s call in their van or troop carrier or whatever they used. They’d expected to be able to watch our full-moon adventures. I had to rein in my frustration, my anger. Next to me, Ben’s shoulder brushed mine, a brief touch to anchor me: settle down, now.

“How can you call them your wolves?” she said. She’d probably thought of them as hers.

“Because they’re my responsibility. I’ve promised to protect them.”

“Can you even do that?”

I asked myself that every day. How the hell did I end up here? With this responsibility? Who was I to deserve that kind of loyalty? To demand that kind of respect? Because I was the one who was there. Because I could.

“You don’t understand, do you? All the research you’ve done, everything you’ve learned, and you don’t understand. I’m the alpha of this pack. And you’ll never find out where we’re going.”

Her gaze flickered away for a moment. Her authority wasn’t working on me.

“I can refuse to release them to your custody,” she said. “I don’t have to let them go.”

I suppressed a growl. I almost exclaimed, shouted a denial in my panic. After all we’d accomplished, she wouldn’t do that, would she? She just couldn’t. I almost begged. But I stopped myself and took a deep breath.

I said, “Then you’re going to have to be the one to tell them that they get to spend the full moon locked up in a concrete cell. You’re going to have to deal with them when they go crazy and try to break out.”

“We have procedures for that. This wouldn’t be their first full moon in custody,” she said, but her voice wavered, like she wasn’t sure. I wouldn’t have wanted to tell Tyler and Walters—I could just about see the looks on their faces. Disappointment, betrayal, rage, and no reason to hold back.

“I don’t want to argue with you,” I said. “You’re the one who asked me to help, and I told you what I think will help—getting them outside and showing them how to control themselves. I promise I’ll bring them back in the morning, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just—” Instead of finishing the thought, she bowed her head and sighed. “I want to be there. I want to watch.”

Ben spoke up. “Has it occurred to you how dangerous that could be?”

“But to see a werewolf pack during the full moon, to record it . . .” Again, she trailed off. Of course she knew how dangerous it could be. That was why she was never going to see it for herself.

“I suppose you could try one of those cages that the guys who study polar bears use, but I’m not sure how much good it would do you,” I said.

Ben glared at me. Shumacher’s brow furrowed.

Ben and I were wearing our full-moon clothing: old jeans and T-shirts. I went braless; the fewer clothes to keep track of, the better. We went without coats at all—the cold didn’t affect us so much. We didn’t strike a very intimidating picture. But in our stances, our carriage, our glares, we were so much more than we appeared. Shumacher had worked with werewolves, and she knew what she was seeing: an alpha pair defending their territory.

“Let us take them,” Ben said. “Just for the night. If you really have their best interests in mind, if you really want to rehabilitate them and not just study them, it’s the right thing to do.”

Shumacher nodded, and I suppressed my sigh of relief. Clearly, Tyler and Walters were part of my pack. Maybe just for tonight, maybe not for the foreseeable future. But now, they were mine to care for. Mine and my Wolf’s.

The doctor went back inside the building. A growl burred in my throat and I started pacing in front of Ben. “What does she think she’s doing? Did she really think I’d just tell her?”