“What? What’s wrong? What happened?”
Ben was staring at me, too. “You looked like a cliché there for a minute. I think you were even drooling.”
“I was not.”
But both men watched me closely, worriedly. Despite his flippant remark, Ben’s brow was furrowed. Had I fainted? Passed out? I’d just been listening to the testimony, to Smith—
That steady, haunting voice filled the room. I could feel it against my heart.
“Oh, my God,” I murmured. “Is it just me? You guys don’t feel it—”
Jeffrey shook his head. “Not like that, but I can see it. It’s like he’s on fire. It started when he spoke.”
Something about his voice sounded so reasonable, so pure. It hardly mattered what he said, because what I heard was, Here is someone I can trust.
I put my hands against my temples, quelling the headache I suspected I was developing. “This is seriously twisted.”
“I think I understand his church a little better,” Jeffrey said.
“No doubt.” The cure was only the start of his power, it seemed. He could draw vampires and werewolves to him just by speaking. He hardly needed to cure them, if all he wanted was a flock of devoted followers.
If he had that power over me across the room, how was I going to get close enough to learn more about him? Did I dare bring him onto the show for an interview, and broadcast his voice across the country?
Then we were done for another day. The hearing adjourned.
Smith immediately came down the aisle between the two sets of chairs, his escort trailing him devotedly. I watched him the way a wolf watches a hunter approaching with a rifle: head down, eyes glaring, lips ready to snarl a challenge if the intruder comes too close. If Jeffrey and Ben hadn’t been there, I might have followed along after him, as eager and devoted as his pets.
I wasn’t anybody’s pet.
As he passed by, he caught my gaze. For a half a second, his lips twitched a smile—a cold smile—and his gaze held triumph.
He knew he’d gotten to me.
Some vampires and werewolves liked to say they were top of the food chain. Stronger than mortal humans, able to hunt mortal humans.
But we might have found the thing that could top us. I had to find out what he was. If I didn’t risk getting closer to him, I’d never learn.
I scrambled past Jeffrey to get to the aisle. I was too late to intercept him, but maybe I could catch up.
Ben called after me, “Kitty, what are you—”
I’d only taken a couple steps toward Smith when the werewolves turned on me. Their lips pulled back in grimaces, their shoulders tensed, bunching up as if they were preparing to cock their arms for a punch. A couple of werewolves, getting ready to rumble. A shot of panic charged through me; I couldn’t take these guys and my Wolf knew it. I had to work to stand there and not look away. Not cringe and cower. Please don’t beat me up . . .
I looked past them to Smith, who had turned to see what the disturbance was.
“Hi, Reverend Smith? I’m Kitty Norville from the talk show The Midnight Hour. I was wondering, could I ask you a few questions? I think my audience would be very interested in learning more about you. Maybe you could come on the show.”
He stared at me for a long time, and my heart beat faster and faster, in anticipation of what he might say, and what his words would do to me. Fight or flight. I should run. I should get out of here.
“If you come to me as a supplicant, I will answer all your questions.” He smiled a thin, knowing smile.
They were true words; I knew they were. If I came to him, gave myself to him, I would have no more questions—at least, no will to ask them. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t go to him, I couldn’t do it, because I’d lose myself, and I’d fought too hard to claim myself. My own two feet stood on the floor, and I was anchored to them, and I would not let his gaze swallow me.
I looked after him as he walked away, and the retreating bodyguards blocked my view of him.
Something touched my shoulder. I gasped and pulled back.
It was Jeffrey, forehead creased with concern. “That wasn’t the smartest thing you could have done.”