“See you all next week,” I said. “This is Kitty Norville, and I am still your voice of the night.”
“I wish you hadn’t said that,” Martin said.
“If wishes were horses.”
Ben and Cormac came into the studio then, side by side, scruffy and heroic, like they were starring in their own TV show or something. The two pairs looked each other up and down, scowling, appraising.
Agent Martin looked at me. “We’ll be in touch, Ms. Norville.”
“I’m sure you will,” I said.
They gave one last look around the studio, like they were memorizing it, and strolled out, as if this had all gone exactly the way they’d planned. Yes, I expected I would be hearing from them again. I wondered how many watch lists I’d just been put on. I’d always trusted that my fame would protect me, but now I wondered if that would last. And if it would protect my family.
Matt, along with the late-shift DJ, pounded into the studio next, and another flustered round of questions and reassurances followed, until Ben and Cormac finally walked me out. I wanted to go home.
First thing first, though. “Where’s the baby?” I asked Ben.
“Rachel’s looking after him. What’s the point of being part of a wolf pack if you can’t call in babysitting favors?”
Rachel was the oldest member of our werewolf pack and something of an auntie to us all. The baby loved her. I was relieved. “How did you know something was wrong?” I asked.
“You put Wham! on loop. I figured it was an S.O.S.”
“Honey. I love you.”
“What’re the Feds doing here?” Cormac said, hitching a thumb back to the hallway.
“They wanted phone records. Names,” I said tiredly.
“Did they have a warrant?” Cormac asked.
“Never mind a warrant, it’s unconstitutional,” Ben said. “Violation of privacy, unreasonable search.”
I got out my phone and made a call, right there in the KNOB parking lot, because I did know people and I did have numbers, and the fun thing about vampires is knowing if you call them in the middle of the night they’ll be awake.
A calm female voice answered, “Who is this, please?” I didn’t recognize her, so there must have been new staff at the house.
“This is Kitty Norville, can I speak to Alette please?”
“If you could just wait a moment, Ms. Norville.”
Some vampires had secretaries. Alette was the Mistress of Washington, D.C. She was old, powerful, and had her fangs in everything. If anyone knew what was really going on with this Paranatural Security Administration bullshit, she would. Ben and Cormac drew close, listening, and I put the phone on speaker.
“Katherine, how lovely to hear from you, how are you?” Alette’s crisp English voice came on the line, sounding as warm and welcoming as she ever did, but leaving no doubt who had the power here.
“I’ve just had a strange encounter, a couple of federal agents saying they’re from the Paranatural Security Administration, which as far as I know hasn’t existed until very recently. I wondered if you’d heard anything about this?”
She remained silent for a long moment, which wasn’t like her. She was in control, she knew everything, that was why I called her. I met Ben’s gaze. His lips were pursed, concerned.
“So they’ve been to see you already, have they?” she said finally, and wasn’t that interesting? “What did you tell them?”
“Nothing. I told them to come back with a warrant and talk to the lawyers. What was I supposed to do? It felt like some kind of HUAC bullshit.”
“How would you know what HUAC felt like?” she said, amused.
Maybe just a little condescending.
“But you would, you were Mistress of D.C. during the McCarthy Era. So tell me, what did that feel like? Did it feel like this? With actual politicians talking about actual registration and camps—vampires would never put up with that, they’d never let it get so far, would they? You all have survived wars, inquisitions—”