Kitty Rocks the House (Kitty Norville 11)

“Well then. I suppose I’ll leave you to it.”

“It was very good to meet you, Katherine,” Nasser said.

My throat tightened, thinking of my grandmother. But the moment passed. “Nice to meet you, too. Keep in touch.”

“Assuredly.”

Nasser went ahead to speak with his entourage, and I hung back with Rick.

“You have an opinion,” he said.

I shrugged. “He seems to know a lot. I definitely like the idea of getting more information, of organizing. I just…”

“Seems a bit like putting your finger in the hole in the dike and hoping.”

“Yeah,” I said.

* * *

BEN WAS working when I got home. His briefcase was open on the floor beside him, papers spread out on his desk in the corner of the living room. He was a law firm of one, a criminal defense attorney, and a few of his clients were prone to calling him from jail late at night.

“Well?” Ben said, turning away from his desk when I shut the door behind me.

“That was interesting,” I said. He raised a brow. I supposed I could have been a little more specific. “I like Nasser. He’s creepy, but he seems sensible. For a vampire.”

“I suppose that’s encouraging,” Ben said, his tone neutral.

“You could have gone to meet him.”

He nodded at the briefcase. “I think I’d rather spend all night springing clients from the drunk tank. So, is there a plan? Does this guy have a way of getting at Roman?”

“I wouldn’t call it a plan. But he has his network, we have ours, and the more allies we have the stronger we are. At least that’s the theory.”

“It certainly can’t hurt. By any chance did he call you Regina Luporum?”

“I’m never going to live that down,” I said.

“I think you should embrace it. It has a nice ring to it.” He was grinning.

“In fact, Nasser implied that I was too young and inexperienced to get much of anything done. He offered to send bodyguards. Of course, he implied the same about Rick so I’m thinking he treats everyone like that.”

“And that’s another reason it’s a good thing I didn’t go.” He reached out a hand, and I moved forward to take it, letting him pull me close, wrapping his arms around me. His warmth, the pressure of his embrace, chased away some of the night’s tension. Better to leave Nasser, Roman, the Long Game, Regina Luporum, and all of it, outside.

“Please tell me you’re done working for the night,” I said, leaning in to kiss his scalp.

“I am now,” he said.

“Good.”

Chapter 3

FRIDAY NIGHT saw me where most Friday nights saw me: at the KNOB main studio, in front of the monitor and microphone, watching for the next entertaining morsel.

“Welcome back to The Midnight Hour. I’m going to take the next call, now. Diane from Eugene, you’re on the air.”

She came on breathless, exhausted. “Hi, Kitty, thanks so much for taking my call, you have no idea how much it means.”

“You’re welcome, Diane. What’s your problem?”