Kitty Steals the Show (Kitty Norville 10)

Couldn’t possibly be a coincidence … “Albus. Albinus. Gaius Albinus?” I murmured. “G. White, is that who you’re working for?”

Flemming said, “He’s a foreign investor, heads a private security firm. It’s perfectly normal—”

I said, “Have you met him? What’s he look like?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking—”

“Tell her,” Ben said.

“He … he’s about my height. Lean. Dark hair, close-cropped. He always wears a long dark coat—”

“Oh, my God,” Ben murmured.

It was Roman. I showed Flemming a mix of emotions, from rage to despair. “Do you have any idea who you’re working for?”

“I told you, a foreign investor—”

He had no idea.

“What would Roman want with Tyler?” Ben said.

“Ready-made werewolf soldier, trained in the American Special Forces. He’d be priceless,” I said. Gravity must have suddenly doubled, I felt so tired, so slow.

“Who’s Roman?” Tyler said. He’d come to stand in the doorway. “And why would he think I’d work for him?”

“He’s a vampire, a very old one,” I answered. “He wouldn’t need your cooperation, he’d just need you.” We hadn’t called the police yet. Surely Ben would let me at Flemming now. I said to him, “He conned you into recruiting for him—”

“He funded my research, that’s all—” Flemming said.

“And you still think it’s okay

to kidnap werewolves for that research? Have you learned anything?”

“It’s necessary—”

“Bah.” I flung a hand at him and turned away. “You’d better call the cops in before I have a go at him.”

Ben already had his phone in his hand, but Caleb put his hand over it, lowering it from his ear.

“Give us a chance to get out,” Caleb said. “I don’t want to have to explain our handiwork to them. Not to mention Ned’s.”

“Ned probably owns the cops,” I muttered.

“Kitty?” Tyler said. “What’s it mean? What were they planning to do with me?”

I couldn’t even look at Flemming again, however much I wanted to scrutinize him, to get him to tell Tyler exactly what he’d planned. I’d lose my temper for sure. I said, “Use you, control you, throw you into battle. Make you train others. The same damn thing.”

“It’s an awful lot of trouble to go through,” Caleb said.

Maybe. But with Tyler’s training and expertise? He wasn’t just werewolf cannon fodder. In a fight, he was worth ten of the rest of us.

“Doesn’t matter now,” I said. “He’s in a lot of trouble back home.”

Flemming quailed, his voice trembling. “You won’t get away with this. I have friends—” The cliché must have come instinctively.

“Your G. White isn’t going to come save you,” I said. “Whoever your allies were in this, they’ve left you.”

Caleb went to the crate of equipment and drew out a pair of handcuffs. “I’ll truss him up a bit, so he doesn’t get the idea he can just walk out. Jill, we’ll go back and get Michael and bring the car ’round. Then we can call the cops.”