Kitty Steals the Show (Kitty Norville 10)

“He cares for us. In his own way.”

“You’re not pets.”

He looked away, like he didn’t believe me. “You don’t fight. Why are you trying to start a war?”

My smile felt bitter. “Oh, I didn’t start this.”

Four others had emerged, arranging themselves in the square behind the man. Two were in wolf form. Their ears were up, listening. Their postures were wary. Even the humans had stiff shoulders and taut expressions.

“You’re a pack. If you left together, looked to yourselves for leadership instead of that jerk of a vampire—” I shook my head. It had taken me years to learn that lesson. I couldn’t just rant at them and expect the lightbulb to turn on.

I turned to walk away. Looking at them—at those collars—made me too sad.

“Wait!” he called. He’d stepped forward; his mate moved with him. “Could you—could you take us with you?”

How much courage did it take for him to ask that question?

“Harald, you can’t,” said one of the others, reaching. “He’ll find you.”

“She can protect us. Look at her.”

What exactly did he see in me? I felt tired, running on adrenaline. On desperation. I imagined metal rods down my neck holding my chin up. I looked to Ben for help. He gave a small shake of his head—not denying, but expressing confusion.

I suppressed a laugh. “You don’t get it. This is about taking care of yourselves.”

“You—” The man nodded over my shoulder; Caleb stood there, his glare still, neutral. “You are the alpha of this territory? You’ll let us stay, then. I ask for … for asylum.” He set his jaw.

“Harald,” his comrade called again. Harald didn’t look back. His fingers twined into his mate’s coat, and she whined softly.

Caleb’s expression didn’t change. I wanted to say he was angry, but I didn’t know him well enough to decide for certain. Silently I pleaded with him, wishing for telepathy, Say yes …

“I’m not in the habit of taking in strays,” he muttered. “But in the interests of the cause … You’ll behave? No double-crossing?”

Harald shook his head. “We are not so clever. I just want to keep her safe.” He rubbed a hand over the wolf’s head. The poor woman had her ears back, her tail between her legs. She was terrified. But she trusted her mate.

“Come on, then,” Caleb said with a sigh.

The defector inched forward carefully, obliquely, moving around us instead of toward us. His mate was even more tentative, hunched over and padding carefully. He had to urge her forward. Caleb didn’t look at them, didn’t make so much as an aggressive flinch—they might have fled at the least discouragement. But Caleb was thoroughly self-possessed. An alpha to admire.

“Anyone else?” I called to the others.

The remaining wolves fidgeted, gazes darting, but none moved forward. In fact, after a moment, they faded back to morning shadows. They weren’t going to try to steal back their pack mates, and they’d have to wait until nightfall to report to their Master. Good.

Ben moved beside me, regarding the two defectors who stood near Caleb. She was still cowering. Harald managed to look simultaneously miserable and resolute.

“I’m suddenly feeling grateful,” Ben said. I glanced at him, questioning. He shrugged. “For choices. For big open spaces. For you.”

I knew what he meant. There but for the grace of God … I squeezed his hand.

“Now, what am I going to do with you?” Caleb said, his tone as tired as it was annoyed.

Harald studied his feet. “If you have a place for her to sleep…”

“I think we can manage that,” Caleb said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Thank you,” I said as we walked back to the car. The two new wolves trailed us, wary and showing deference. I tried not to keep looking over my shoulder at them, which would only make them more nervous.

“Don’t tell anyone I’ve gone soft,” he muttered. “But maybe this’ll start some rumors, encourage some of the others to desert as well.”