Kitty's House of Horrors
Page 40

If it were Cormac out there and he’d had time to prepare, he’d have trapped the house. He wouldn’t give us an escape route. He’d have studied us, he’d know our weaknesses. He’d use silver on the lycanthropes, stakes and sunlight on the vampires. He’d have a plan for each one of us.
We just had to figure out what those plans were, and how to turn them around. Use them against him. And even more importantly, we had to figure out how to get back in contact with the outside world. Get the power working, find a phone, call in the cavalry.
Our hunter had had time to prepare. We hadn’t. We’d have to move fast if we were going to make up the difference.
I turned from the window. Everyone was doing something different, all of them stuck in their own worlds. Jeffrey and Tina were on one sofa; Jeffrey looked like he was meditating, Tina was tapping a pen on a piece of paper but not writing. On the other sofa, Anastasia was still comforting Gemma, who through her grief was showing her youth, her inexperience as a vampire. She might never have lost anyone she loved before. Ariel was pacing, wringing her hands. Lee was on a chair, drinking a beer. Grant was staring at the window, searching the darkness, like me.
We were sitting ducks, waiting to be picked off. We all knew better than that.
“I think we should post a watch,” I said. Everyone looked toward me, a group of stark faces. I wanted to duck, apologetic for breaking the quiet, but I didn’t. I was an alpha wolf, and I could do this. “Probably from upstairs. It’ll be easier to stay out of sight of anyone with a rifle. Then we need to check the house. It might be rigged with explosives, traps. Anything like that. We should also look for weapons we can use.”
After a moment of stunned silence, Ariel said, voice wavering, “Are you serious? Explosives?”
Lee chuckled. His face flushed, and I wondered if maybe that wasn’t his first beer of the evening. “What are you going to do, wage some kind of war?”
“Yes,” I said. “Damn straight.”
Anastasia stood, and all gazes turned to her. She drew the eye with her poise, her bearing, chin tipped up, gaze like iron. I suddenly felt like we couldn’t do half badly with her on our side.
“I’m less interested in the war than I am in the conspiracy,” she said. “I want to know how this happened. How it was possible for this… situation… to arise. I want to know who made it possible.” She looked at Odysseus Grant.
An epic stare-down between them began. I looked back and forth between the two.
“You want to explain what you’re talking about?” I said to Anastasia.
“You know what I’m talking about,” she said. “You know what he’s capable of.”
Grant hadn’t reacted. Not a muscle on his face twitched. Gazing at him, Anastasia looked like she could raise a hand and summon storms. At the moment, I was thinking they were both capable of a hell of a lot. I didn’t particularly want to see what.
“I do know,” I said, my voice low, steady. The talking-down-a-hostage-situation voice. “And I think that if he wanted to act against any of us, he’d do it a lot more elegantly and discreetly.”
Grant was near the top of my “people never to piss off” list. Because if he ever decided he had it in for me, I would just… vanish.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Grant said.
Anastasia scowled at me. “Then what do you think is happening here?”
I didn’t snap back like I wanted to, because I was still thinking like Cormac, and Anastasia didn’t have that benefit. Hell, for all her experience she might never have met anyone like Cormac. I explained carefully, thinking out loud, formulating my own hypothesis. “I think it’s pretty simple. There are people out there—bounty hunters, hit men, assassins—who want people like us dead. I think maybe one or more of them got wind of what was happening here. That they’d have a whole group of juicy targets in one place, just waiting to be picked off. They made plans, they camped out—maybe at that campsite Jerome and I found during the treasure hunt. They waited for the chance, got rid of witnesses. Now they can pick us off one by one, and that’s all they want to do. I think they hit Dorian first because they knew it would weaken you and Gemma. That means they’re smart. They know our weaknesses. So we have to pay attention. And I think we have to go after them before they get to us.”
The others took time absorbing all that. I studied them in turn, sizing them up, guessing how they’d do under pressure—assessing my pack, I realized. Most of them probably had never been hunted before. They might never have been in danger like this. Grant and Tina had, I knew. They could fight. Anastasia, probably. The old vampires didn’t survive so long without developing a few survival skills. Lee was a hunter, but he was used to being top of the food chain. Jeffrey, Ariel—I had no idea. I hated this, because Jeffrey and Ariel at least were too darned nice to be stuck in a situation like this.
That was why I was starting to throw down the alpha attitude: I felt like I had to protect them.
Lee finally broke the silence. “How do you do that? How do you just put yourself inside their heads like that?”
I looked away, trying not to laugh, because this wasn’t funny. But God, I wished Cormac could hear this.
“I have this friend,” I said. “He’s good at this sort of thing.”
“Any chance you could get him to come out here and help?”
My throat tightened, and I shook my head. “No chance at all, even if we had a working phone.”
“Too bad,” he said.
Yeah. Too bad.
Straightening, I pulled from the window. Reminded myself I was supposed to be badass. “Tell you what. There’s a locked room upstairs. Anyone else want to check it out? See what Provost decided to keep out of sight?”
I trooped upstairs, leading the others.
“Maybe this is all some kind of mistake,” Lee said. “Dorian was an accident, Jerome was the only target—he had enemies, right? Maybe from his boxing days?”
“Except there’s still that prickling on the back of my neck,” I said.
“What do you think we’ll find in there?” Tina said.
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t need to look.”
Ariel split off to knock on Conrad’s door. “Hey, Conrad. You okay?”