Kitty and the Silver Bullet Page 38

"Thanks. But that isn't the worst of it," I said. "My mom is really sick. And the situation in Denver just exploded. I tried to stay out of it, honest I did—"

Cormac ducked his face to hide a grin.

"Hey, don't laugh."

"Kitty, when have you ever been able to stay out of anything?"

I glared. "You should have met me back when I was quiet and unassuming. I used to be a nice girl."

Cormac had the good grace not to respond to that. "Tell me the situation."

I did, my voice hushed, not sure who might be listening in, not sure if what I was saying would even make sense to someone listening in. The description sounded like a war, a nasty guerrilla war where both sides occupied the same territory and no clear lines of engagement existed. Attacks came at any moment, treachery was the norm, and both sides fought with their own sense of righteousness.

"I wish you could come to the rescue this time," I said, smiling weakly. "I don't know what to do."

"You have two choices: You leave Denver. Or you fight to win."

"We can't win, they're too strong. I've already left—"

"And how long before you go back the next time? You won't stay away. That's why you need to win. So you don't have to keep running. And Ben won't leave, so you need to go back and cover his ass."

I leaned my head on my hand. He wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know. I just had to hear it. And it wasn't anything Ben hadn't already said. But I expected to hear it from Cormac. Cormac was the one who talked like that. I still had this attitude that I was supposed to be protecting Ben. Maybe I should have listened to him.

"Right, fine, okay. But I don't know how to fight a war."

"Then don't fight one. Not straight out, not like this Rick guy's been doing. You're going to have to do this down and dirty. Draw them out. Split them up. Get them looking over their shoulders at every little shadow, then move in to clean up. I could do the whole thing myself with enough planning."

"I don't think I have a lot of time for this."

"Then you'll have to move fast."

Carl was only as strong as the whole pack. And the pack was weak, at least according to Rick. I couldn't gauge Arturo's relationship with his followers as easily. Rick had tried to catch Arturo off guard. But he'd also wanted to go after them in a straight fight, army to army. We couldn't do that. We had to use our strengths as outsiders. Not dependent on the system. Not invested in the system. We couldn't go in and replace Carl and Arturo. We had to bust up the whole deal and start from scratch.

Assuming Rick was dead, I'd have to go after Arturo myself. Or convince him that Denver was better off with me in charge of the werewolves. Compromise with Arturo? Maybe I could do it.

Cormac continued. "Remember, you're hunting predators. With them, it's all about territory. You take their territory, you take their power. When you draw them out, you can't leave them standing. Are you ready to do that?"

I nodded quickly, not wanting to think about that part just yet. "Rick tried it and failed. They got him at his base. He didn't have a chance to bring the fight to them."

"Then he's got a leak," Cormac said. "Someone fed the bad guys his plans, and they knew exactly where and when to find him."

That was so simple I almost cried. But all Rick's people were handpicked, Rick wouldn't have brought them in if he couldn't trust them. Maybe there was a spy on the outside. Someone who could move freely, collect information without anyone realizing she was doing it. Mercedes Cook?

In spite of myself, I was starting to make a plan.

Cormac spoke softly, adding to the clandestine feel of the conversation. "You'll have to keep this quiet. Avoid the cops. They just mess everything up." Cormac would know all about that. He'd saved me and five others by shooting dead the creature that threatened us. But when it was all over, the police only saw a dead woman and Cormac standing over her with a smoking rifle.

I winced. "The cops are already involved. You remember Detective Hardin?"

"Shit." Make that a yes.

"But still…" The wheels were turning. I had to think about what advantages I had and how I could use them. "She wants to treat this as a gang war. She wants these guys as badly as I do. If I can use her to do some of the dirty work"—like, shooting people—"that'll leave me in the clear."

"That's a tricky gamble to make."

"Yeah." But I could make it work. I started to think I could make it work.

"Do you still have the Jeep?" Cormac said. "Does Ben have it?"

"Yeah, it's at his mom's place."

"Go get it. Pop the hood. On the inside edge, on the left, there's one of those magnetic boxes for spare keys. The key in it is for a storage unit at a place on 287, south of Longmont. Ben knows where."

"Storage unit—storing what?"

"Stuff you might be able to use."

"Cormac—"

"I'd go in and clean up the town myself if I could. But I can't, so I want to make sure you have the tools for it."

Cormac had his own personal armory in a rented storage locker. He never ceased to amaze me.

"Ben took me to a range. Taught me to shoot."

"Good," he said.

"I don't want to be a part of this kind of life," I said.

"Sometimes you don't have a choice," he said. "When you're the only one around who can make a stand, you don't have a choice. Not if you want to be able to sleep at night."

I wasn't thinking of doing this because I wanted to, or because I thought it'd be fun. I was doing this for Jenny, for Ben, for myself, to keep those of us left alive safe. I was doing this for T. J. It was what he'd have done.

Cormac was much better suited for a world where wars happened.

"Can you sleep at night, Cormac?"

"Most of the time. When I'm not thinking about you." He grimaced. "I shouldn't have said that. Sorry."

"No," I said softly. "I'm sorry."

His voice was low, drawn from a dark place. "Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if I'd shot him. After he was bitten. If I'd killed him like he wanted me to. And then, what if I came to see you. To tell you what happened. You'd be all sympathetic. You'd tell me how sorry you were, you'd start crying, I'd hold you, and then—"

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