Kitty Steals the Show Page 36

A familiar, back-of-the-neck chill crawled along my spine. I’ve created a monster …

My toughest guest came right in the middle of the session, for good or ill. I let the studio staff deal with her, figuring she’d be more at ease. I wanted this woman to talk. One of the techs ushered her in and guided her to the guest seat at the other end of the table.

She was human, average, in nice jeans, a blouse and blazer, a thin gold necklace and stud earrings. Her hair was short, dyed dark blond with highlights. In her forties, of average height and build, she looked utterly normal and nondescript. I never would have picked her out of the crowd on any street in any town in Middle America.

I thought about approaching her, to try to get her to shake my hand—or to make her refuse to shake. But I could tell by her frown and the hard edge in her stare how that was likely to go. I let the tech deal with her, fitting headphones and showing her the mike, while I sat back and smiled.

As soon as she was settled, the sound guy gave me a cue, and I launched in.

“I’m feeling a tiny sense of victory in even convincing my next guest to come on the show. But she’s here, and I’m very much looking forward to our chat. Tracy Anderson chairs an organization calling themselves Truth Against the Godless, members of which have been out in force picketing the conference. They’ve gone on record denouncing government recognition and public acceptance of people with supernatural identities. Ms. Anderson, welcome to the show. Thank you for being here.”

She and her group had chartered a plane to bring them and their protest banners to London. They’d been planning and organizing to come here for a year. The level of commitment was almost admirable.

Calmly, hands folded on her lap, she said, “I want to make clear that I’m only here because you offer a chance to speak to the audience that most needs to hear our message.” She sat as far away from me as she could and still reach the microphone. I had thought she would avoid looking at me at all. But she stared at me, lines of tension around her mouth. I couldn’t help but stare back.

“Well, I know I’m taking you away from your busy protest schedule, and I appreciate it,” I said.

“My work calls for many sacrifices.”

“So does mine, oddly enough. My first question. You’re one of the founders of Truth Against the Godless. What prompted you to start this group in the first place?”

“Frankly, we started the group because we were appalled. I find it reprehensible that evil has been given such a free rein in today’s world. To speak, to act, to corrupt our youth—”

“Evil. I understand you mean something pretty specific by that, and it’s not people who set fire to kittens.”

She scowled at me. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“My listeners may not, so if you’ll just spell it out so we’re on the same page.”

“People like you. Werewolves and vampires. Monsters. Satanists. Threats to God-fearing people everywhere.”

“I always feel the need in conversations like this to point out how often God-fearing people themselves have been threats to God-fearing people, and everyone else.”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about—you think having a platform gives you a right to twist my words. Someone has to stand up to people like you. To denounce you.”

“Well, good luck with that. I do need to say, though I always seem to make the mistake that it’s blazingly obvious, that part of the whole point of this conference is identifying the underlying causes—and biological implications—of vampirism and lycanthropy. These things have a mechanism. God and Satan have nothing to do with it.”

“Oh, but they do! These aren’t diseases, they’re the marks of Lucifer. It’s the same story—science is leading you astray.”

“I’m going to ask you the same question I ask all of you who express these beliefs—if I was an embodiment of Satan, don’t you think I’d know it? Wouldn’t I have some sense of it? Wouldn’t I actually, you know, go around trying to do horrible things to people? To be a minion of Satan don’t you have to decide to be a minion of Satan? I guarantee you I didn’t make that choice.”

She huffed with apparent exasperation. “You must have done something. You may not have consciously chosen to become a werewolf, but something set you on that path and put you in Satan’s way and here you are, spreading your lies and propaganda.”

That actually stopped me for a moment, my jaw opening at the start of a word, only I couldn’t decide which one. I didn’t think much of her God, if that was the world she lived in.

“You’re saying I was attacked and left in the woods to die as punishment? Really? What could I have possibly done to deserve that?” My question held a tone of bafflement.

I didn’t think she’d actually have an answer for me. I should have known better. “I know this is a personal question and you’re probably hoping to keep this secret—but at some point in your life you had an abortion, didn’t you?”

If she’d been on the phone I’d have hung up on her by now. The perils of the in-person interview. I needed a moment to shuffle through any number of inappropriate responses, and there were oh so many of them.

I finally leaned back in my chair and regarded her, my expression stony. “So that’s what it takes to become a minion of Satan, is it? Good to know. For future reference. So what do men have to do?”

Her lips pressed even tighter. “Mock me all you want, but I’m right. We’re all right, and you and all your ungodly scientist friends will burn in hell.”

“We have to believe in hell first.”

“You may not believe in Satan and hell, but they certainly believe in you,” she announced, giving a decisive nod.

I had to think about that for a minute before answering, “I don’t think that’s how that saying usually goes.”

“It’s still true.”

“Actually, I think it’s irrelevant. I’m a werewolf. I’m not a bad person. A lot of the werewolves I know aren’t. Even a big chunk of the vampires I know aren’t bad people. And yet you’d condemn us all?”

“That’s right.” She beamed like she’d scored a point.

Time to get out while the getting was good. “All righty then. Anything else you’d like to tell my listeners before I kick you out?”

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