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Kitty Rocks the House (Kitty Norville 11)

Page 27

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Shaun had politely removed himself to the other end of the room, but drifted back over after Darren left.

“It’s all cool?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” I finally took a drink of the beer that had been waiting faithfully for me on the bar. It had gone a bit warm. “I guess we’ll find out.”

Ben wasn’t meeting me tonight, which meant I’d have the one drink and head home. By then, most of the buzz from the show would wear off and I’d be ready to sleep. Or if the buzz hadn’t worn off, maybe I wouldn’t be ready to sleep, and maybe Ben wouldn’t be, either …

My face was buried in the mug when Shaun said, “Hey, look,” and nodded at the front door.

Rick was standing there and tapped the glass when I spotted him. Rick, finally.

I opened the door and let him inside. “You’ve been invited. You can come in.”

“Yes, but I thought I’d be polite,” he said. “Since I’m here to talk and not drink.” He eyed the few people at the bar and scattered at tables appreciatively. I was pretty sure he did it to be funny.

“And for that, I thank you,” I said.

I guided him to a table in back. He sat across from me and, folding his hands before him, regarded me with a serious express

ion, lips pulled down. I focused on his chin instead of his eyes. He’d never used his vampiric influence on me before—that I knew of—but he looked like he might be willing to start.

“What is it?” I said.

“You and your hunter friend have been digging,” he said.

Oops. My cheeks flushed to burning. “Well, I mean … It was broad daylight, how did you even know?”

He raised a brow at me, indicating that I should know better than to ask such a question. However he’d found out, he wasn’t going to tell me. They were vampires, and that should be enough to explain anything to a mere mortal such as myself.

“You all are very invested in your reputations for omnipotence, you know that?” I said.

“As you say,” he answered.

Omnipotence and inscrutability. How did I ever expect anything different? I said, “I’m just worried. About you. About that guy. I’ve been trying to call you—we need to talk. Detective Hardin’s looking for him. He’s wanted for arson and murder in Europe.”

“That’s really not your concern,” he said, and I started getting angry.

“Yeah, until Hardin comes to me asking questions and I have to cover your ass.”

He turned a hand in apology. “I appreciate that. But this is my business, mine alone. Hardin won’t find him, even if you do help her. In the meantime, it would be better for you and Cormac if you stay out of this.”

“I’d solve a lot of my problems by just staying out of things,” I said. “But if Hardin is right and Columban caused that trouble in Europe, what’s to say he won’t cause the same trouble here?”

“He won’t. Nobody’s in any danger—”

“He makes me nervous,” I said.

“Are you worried because he’s a vampire, or because he’s a Catholic priest?”

“Um, yes?”

He took a deep breath, measuring his words. “You’ve trusted me for years now, Kitty. Have I ever given you a reason not to?”

He never, ever had. In fact, he’d been one of the true friends, an anchor I could count on. He’d helped me more times than I could count. He was my first and strongest proof positive that being a vampire did not make someone a villain.

“No, of course not. You’re right, I shouldn’t be going behind your back and I shouldn’t be worried about you.”

“I don’t know about the second of those,” he said with a wry smile. “Trust me, if I need help, I’ll call.”



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