Kitty and the Silver Bullet
Page 49

She feels the dawn approach rather than notes any sign of it—the lightening of the sky, the first songs of birds. Just as the urgency of war drove them for the few hours of night, the same urgency tells her they must be away from here by daylight. They must sleep, so she leads them back to their den. The three of them settle down, curled up nose to tail, touching, safe in each other's company.
I woke up in a strange place, with strange pressures around me. I lie on my side, on dry grass with pine boughs overhanging. Ben was in front of me, his head against my chest, one arm over my waist, the other tucked between us. He was snoring a little—it was awfully cute. Another body pressed close against my back, breathing deeply in sleep. Shaun lay against me, back to back.
A pack. Waking up in a dog pile of naked bodies, safe and comforted by their warmth. I'd forgotten what it was like. I wanted to revel in the feeling for hours.
But we weren't safe. We were in enemy territory, and we'd set a urinary time bomb that would be going off any minute now.
I elbowed Shaun and shook Ben. "Come on. We have to get going. Up up up, guys."
Ben groaned and took a firm grip on my arms, holding me in place while he sidled closer to me. His eyes were closed, and I couldn't tell if he was awake. Then he started necking me, working his way to my ear, where he started nibbling.
He sure knew which buttons to push. I just about melted. "Ben…this…this isn't—" Oh, come on, a little voice said…This was just fine. Make that a big voice.
Oh, no. There were so many reasons why this wasn't the time or place for this. "Ben. Wait." I pulled away and took his face in my hands. Finally, he opened his eyes. Then glanced over my shoulder, to where Shaun was sitting up and watching us.
"Don't stop on my account," he said with a laugh behind his leer.
Ben gave me a look—smirking and clearly annoyed. "I didn't sign up for this," he said, nodding at Shaun.
"You didn't sign up for any of this." I kissed his forehead.
"Ozzie and Harriet," Shaun said, shaking his head again.
I glared. "Let's get out of here."
Shaun was smiling, seeming far more content with the world than he had a right to be. "It's good to have you back, Kitty. Back and all grown up."
I thought about what I must have looked like through his eyes: I'd been weak. I'd felt small, vulnerable, at everyone's mercy. Then I disappeared for months and came back waging war. And this made him happy? He must have seen something I'd missed.
"Thanks," I said and held my hand to him. He clasped it, securing a bond of pack, of friendship. I was ready to pull both of them into a group hug, no matter how much Ben grumbled about it.
But Ben was looking out, across the hill, through the trees. "Someone's coming."
Shit. Too late. We'd waited too long.
"Who?" I whispered. The three of us had straightened, lifting our faces to the air, smelling—three wolves in human form, alert and wary, all senses firing.
Shaun said, "She's coming from upwind. She wants us to know she's here."
She. Meg, I thought in a panic. I took a deep breath, catching the smell that Shaun had found. Human and wild—lycanthrope, yes. And female. But it wasn't Meg. I'd recognize Meg. Her scent lived in my nightmares.
Meg wouldn't give us any warning. She'd pounce, and she wouldn't be alone. This was one person, and Shaun was right; she was giving us a good long approach. We waited, still and quiet, until she emerged from the trees. She was average height and build, with an edge: sharp features, wiry limbs. Her auburn hair was short, brushing around her ears. She wore a tank top and shorts, and she might have been anyone out for a morning stroll, but for the look in her eyes: hooded, anxious. Her jaw was set, and her shoulders tense, a bit like rising hackles.
"Becky," I said.
She was another one of Carl's, a couple years older than me both in chronological age and in time as a lycanthrope. She was tough, maintaining a spot in the middle to upper end of the pack hierarchy. She was one of the ones who thrived in this life. My first thought: I had underestimated him. Carl had expected something like this and sent a patrol. He was ready for us, and we'd been caught. We'd lost. Sitting here in the great outdoors, naked, along with the two men, I couldn't help but feel like I'd been caught at something illicit. That made me blush, and the blushing made me angry.
But then, she'd been the one who tried to help Jenny. What was she doing here now?
"What are you going to tell Carl?" I said. "You going to run back and tell him we're right here, easy pickings? Is that what he sent you out here to find?"
She shook her head, and her voice was low. "He didn't send me. I came out here for a walk. To think. I do that sometimes. Then I smelled you and followed you here."
I was taken aback. "Carl doesn't know we're here?"
"Oh, he will. You guys were busy last night." A smile flickered, and she looked away. To the wolves, that was a gesture of peace, of submission. It heartened me.
"You're going to tell him."
"No," she said. She licked her lips. Gaze downcast, she said, "I want to join you. Take me with you."
Chapter 11
We'd goaded our rivals, with this bright idea of luring them into the open. They'd be angry, unprepared, and—I hoped—they'd get stupid. It looked nice on paper. At least it would have if I had written any of it down.
In the meantime, the four of us grabbed breakfast. I now had a pack of four. How had that happened?
Over coffee, Shaun told me what had been happening with the pack. "You remember Gabe?"
"The bike courier from Boulder, right? Thirty something. Ran marathons."
"Right. He was the first one. After T.J., Carl flipped. Kept thinking others would try it. That we were all questioning his authority. He had to slap everyone down to prove his point. Most of us rolled over and took it. You know how it is. But Gabe…Gabe thought he could talk to Carl. Reason with him. Appeal to the human side. But Carl…" Shaun shrugged, looked away, to collect himself. "Carl went too far. Gabe listened to your show, you know. Didn't tell you. Didn't dare tell Carl. But he really liked what you had to say. About being human. I think…I guess he thought he had to try."
Great. Now I could lay him on my conscience, too. Made me question all over again if I was ready for this.