Kitty and the Silver Bullet
Page 62

"All right."
"I love you."
She smiled briefly as she drifted back to sleep. Still drugged out on painkillers, she'd never really woken up.
Relieved, I sighed. She was safe. She'd be safe. Could I collapse yet?
"Where is he? Where'd he go?" Hardin appeared in the doorway again, crossbow in hand, her gaze wild.
"He's gone. You still want to arrest Denver's Master vampire?"
"Jesus Christ," she hissed. She rubbed the back of her neck, where the chain had broken off.
"Detective, could you do something for me?"
She joined me by the bed. "Is she all right?"
"Yeah. Could you tie this chain around her somehow? I don't want to touch it if I don't have to." I showed her my injured palm.
"That's my cross," she said.
"I had to borrow it."
She considered me a moment, then shook her head. Her taut expression managed to convey both trepidation and annoyance. But she did get the chain tied around Mom's neck.
"The silver did that to you?"
Wincing, I nodded. "With silver bullets, it's not the bullet that kills a werewolf. It's the silver poisoning the blood."
"Not very pretty I bet."
"No, I imagine not."
Straightening, Hardin regarded me. The trepidation was fading, losing to a severe look of aggravation. "You're going to have to explain what that bastard did to me."
"The vampire hypnotic voodoo."
"Uh. Yeah."
"How do you think they get people to stay still while they drink their blood?"
She scowled. "I hate it when this crap actually makes sense."
"Don't look at his eyes next time, okay?"
"Let's get going."
I touched Mom's hand one more time. She was sleeping, and the cross was visible, lying at the hollow of her throat. She was as safe as I could make her. Which wasn't very. I hated to leave.
"She'll be okay," Hardin said, touching my arm. "I'll make sure security is watching her room."
Like that would help. Arturo would just work his wiles on them.
"I'll have them string garlic in the doorway." She grinned, but it wasn't much of a joke.
We heard pounding footsteps ahead of us. Four cops, running down the corridor. Hardin's backup.
"Took you guys long enough!" she barked at them. "Come on, we're heading out."
They shrugged and mumbled excuses. But I looked at the clock—the whole exchange with Arturo had only taken a couple of minutes. We hadn't been here that long. Time had stretched to make it seem so.
After Hardin had a word with security, we walked out of the hospital together. "Your boyfriend was going to this guy's home base. Where?"
"You know Obsidian? That art gallery on Fourteenth? He's in the basement."
"How many people has he got with him?"
"I don't know. I've seen as many as twelve or fourteen. All vampires."
"Well, this ought to be fun. Sawyer, you got that surveillance file on Mercedes Cook? She's a known associate. We might get some idea of what we'll find there."
"Yeah, it's in the car."
"Sawyer," I muttered. "Isn't that the guy who shot me?" The cop in question ducked and ran ahead of us. Avoiding me. Oh, it was him.
"Let it go, Kitty," Hardin said. Then, "Sunglasses."
"What?"
"You think sunglasses would work against that hypnotic crap?" She pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of her pocket and went through the ritual of lighting up. Her gestures were manic, determined.
"I don't know."
Officer Sawyer handed her a manila folder, which she handed to me. Then she gathered her people around her: four uniformed officers who looked ready for war. I was frankly dumbstruck.
Nodding at the four officers, all men, all tough-looking, she said, "Tell them what you told me. Everything you know about what to expect from the vampires."
I repeated it all, every bit of vampire lore I knew, everything I had seen with my own eyes. They were strong, they could drop grown men without effort, they could control your will simply by looking into your eyes. They were hard to kill. They had the experience of decades. Arturo had centuries behind him. How could I make them understand that?
The officers stared back at me, just as eager, just as ready. They'd heard what I'd said, but I wasn't sure they understood it. This must have looked like some kind of video game to them. I was sending them to their doom.
Hardin followed up with instructions. "Don't get separated. Stick with your partner, keep your eyes on each other. You see someone in trouble, call for backup. I don't want big heroics on this. We're dealing with unknowns here."
We'd go in three cars. Hardin directed one of the patrol cars to stop in front, while hers and another parked in back. No flashing lights or sirens. We'd sneak in.
"They'll know," I said. "Before we even get out of the car."
"Then we'll be ready for them," she said, confident.
We're all gonna die, a voice in me wailed. Not the Wolf. I could tell, because the Wolf was urging me on. We must destroy those who harm us. We must do battle.
I didn't know which instincts to listen to anymore.
Chapter 15
During the drive, I flipped through the file folder containing the information about Mercedes Cook. The police had managed to cull a handful of photos from the hotel's security cameras—digital images printed out on plain paper. They showed her in the hotel, mostly, interacting with the staff, entertaining visitors, many of them recognizable local celebrities. Some of the pictures were blurry—like the closed-circuit footage from the convenience store robberies. Vampires, not wanting to be seen. Maybe Arturo.
One of them stopped me cold. In it, I recognized the hallway outside Mercedes's suite at the Brown Palace. A man was entering the room, his head up, his face clear. He held himself with a confidence that showed he belonged there. He knew what he was doing, and he had a plan. The man was deeply tanned, with sun-burnished blond hair and rugged, windblown skin.
It was Dack. I remembered now what he'd said: It's a good thing, having a vampire owe you a favor. You want to be with the strongest. And he hadn't answered when I asked if that was Rick. Evidently, he didn't think so. With a sinking feeling, I realized that we'd found the spy in Rick's camp. And I had no way to reach Rick to tell him, not if he wasn't answering his phone. Dack was there, with him now, no doubt preparing to stab him in the back. And Ben was there, too.