Kitty Steals the Show Page 52

“I’m listening, because you wouldn’t fight,” he said. “You understand.”

My voice stretched thin with sympathy. “You have to get away from him. You know that, don’t you?”

“He cares for us. In his own way.”

“You’re not pets.”

He looked away, like he didn’t believe me. “You don’t fight. Why are you trying to start a war?”

My smile felt bitter. “Oh, I didn’t start this.”

Four others had emerged, arranging themselves in the square behind the man. Two were in wolf form. Their ears were up, listening. Their postures were wary. Even the humans had stiff shoulders and taut expressions.

“You’re a pack. If you left together, looked to yourselves for leadership instead of that jerk of a vampire—” I shook my head. It had taken me years to learn that lesson. I couldn’t just rant at them and expect the lightbulb to turn on.

I turned to walk away. Looking at them—at those collars—made me too sad.

“Wait!” he called. He’d stepped forward; his mate moved with him. “Could you—could you take us with you?”

How much courage did it take for him to ask that question?

“Harald, you can’t,” said one of the others, reaching. “He’ll find you.”

“She can protect us. Look at her.”

What exactly did he see in me? I felt tired, running on adrenaline. On desperation. I imagined metal rods down my neck holding my chin up. I looked to Ben for help. He gave a small shake of his head—not denying, but expressing confusion.

I suppressed a laugh. “You don’t get it. This is about taking care of yourselves.”

“You—” The man nodded over my shoulder; Caleb stood there, his glare still, neutral. “You are the alpha of this territory? You’ll let us stay, then. I ask for … for asylum.” He set his jaw.

“Harald,” his comrade called again. Harald didn’t look back. His fingers twined into his mate’s coat, and she whined softly.

Caleb’s expression didn’t change. I wanted to say he was angry, but I didn’t know him well enough to decide for certain. Silently I pleaded with him, wishing for telepathy, Say yes …

“I’m not in the habit of taking in strays,” he muttered. “But in the interests of the cause … You’ll behave? No double-crossing?”

Harald shook his head. “We are not so clever. I just want to keep her safe.” He rubbed a hand over the wolf’s head. The poor woman had her ears back, her tail between her legs. She was terrified. But she trusted her mate.

“Come on, then,” Caleb said with a sigh.

The defector inched forward carefully, obliquely, moving around us instead of toward us. His mate was even more tentative, hunched over and padding carefully. He had to urge her forward. Caleb didn’t look at them, didn’t make so much as an aggressive flinch—they might have fled at the least discouragement. But Caleb was thoroughly self-possessed. An alpha to admire.

“Anyone else?” I called to the others.

The remaining wolves fidgeted, gazes darting, but none moved forward. In fact, after a moment, they faded back to morning shadows. They weren’t going to try to steal back their pack mates, and they’d have to wait until nightfall to report to their Master. Good.

Ben moved beside me, regarding the two defectors who stood near Caleb. She was still cowering. Harald managed to look simultaneously miserable and resolute.

“I’m suddenly feeling grateful,” Ben said. I glanced at him, questioning. He shrugged. “For choices. For big open spaces. For you.”

I knew what he meant. There but for the grace of God … I squeezed his hand.

“Now, what am I going to do with you?” Caleb said, his tone as tired as it was annoyed.

Harald studied his feet. “If you have a place for her to sleep…”

“I think we can manage that,” Caleb said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Thank you,” I said as we walked back to the car. The two new wolves trailed us, wary and showing deference. I tried not to keep looking over my shoulder at them, which would only make them more nervous.

“Don’t tell anyone I’ve gone soft,” he muttered. “But maybe this’ll start some rumors, encourage some of the others to desert as well.”

“We can hope.”

Cormac joined us by the time we reached the car, and I didn’t look for where he’d appeared from. The way he moved was almost vampiric, but it was probably just a charm of Amelia’s. Harald and his mate jumped when they saw him, and Caleb murmured reassurances at them.

With the newcomers, the car didn’t have room for us all, and we agreed that the priority should be getting the defectors to safety. Caleb would take them to one of his pack’s safe houses, and the three of us would continue on our own. He gave me his list of contacts and locations, apparently more confident in my abilities now that he’d seen the plan in action.

“I have to give you some credit. This may work,” he said.

“There’s a vote of confidence,” I said.

He winked. “Never had a doubt, love. Now, off to play good Samaritan and check on my own wounded. Call me in an hour.”

“Yes, sir.”

Somehow, in the last half hour, daylight had arrived in force. The cloud cover made it impossible to spot the moment when a shadowy dawn had given way to full day. But the sky was bright now, if overcast. The vampires would be sleeping. And have no idea what we were up to.

Caleb’s scouts had tracked five vampires who’d moved their lairs. We assumed Mercedes didn’t have a lair of her own—she’d always traveled light and alone, not weighed down by a household. Able to manipulate others to get what she needed. We had three left, took a cab to the next one, and the last two were within walking distance of there. Morning traffic had begun to clog the roads; we moved carefully.

At one of the five lairs Caleb and his people had tracked—Petra’s, the woman in the glamorous gown, Mistress of Krakow—we couldn’t find the wolves standing guard. We spent half an hour wandering the neighborhood, making our presence known. No werewolf guards appeared, leaving me no one to talk to. They might have fled, or they might have decided to stay out of sight. Didn’t matter, because we didn’t have time to linger.

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