Carrie Vaughn - Kitty Steals the Show

“Keep your eyes open. Don’t do anything stupid,” he said. “If you need me, call.”

I looked at Ben for backup, but he just shrugged. Cormac left on his mysterious errand.

Ben and I walked to the conference hotel, which was only a mile and a half away. The housekeeper, manager, whatever she was at Ned’s Mayfair house offered to loan us the use of a car and chauffer, but I declined. I wanted to get a sense of the place. An idea of where the escape routes were.

We were still a block away from the hotel when I heard what sounded like a lot of people shouting, more people than should have been at what was billed as a scientific conference. A rumbling of conversation was punctuated with shouting. Someone hollered through a bullhorn.

Then we saw the signs. People held up poster board on sticks, others strung banners between them.

GOD HATES VAMPIRES!

WOULD YOU TRUST YOUR CHILD WITH THIS? Along with a picture of a snarling rabid wolf.

NO NEW WORLD ORDER!

and

V.L.A.D.: VAMPIRE LEAGUE AGAINST DISCRIMINATION.

EQUAL RIGHTS FOR ALL!

NO MORE BURNING TIMES!

A police barricade separated what turned out to be two different crowds, whose members were screaming at each other. Two sides of the debate, hurling slogans. For the moment, it was just slogans, but the anger simmered. At opposite poles of the debate, they were never going to convince the other of their stance. News crews, vans, and cameras were on hand to cover the chaos. It seemed a perfect display of entropy.

“I suppose it would have been too much to ask, hoping these guys wouldn’t show up,” I said, nodding to a sloppily written sign, red paint on yellow poster board, reading REPENT, WEREWOLVES! If only I could.

“Is there a back door to this place?” Ben asked, searching.

“Don’t want to run the gauntlet?” I joked.

“I just don’t want to see what happens when one of the holy righteous over there recognizes you.”

Well, that was enough to freeze my spine. If this much mayhem was happening the first day, it seemed inevitable that the protests would devolve into riots at some point. I didn’t want to be the one to start said riots.

Turning the corner, we went down the block and found an unlocked side door that led into the convention area of the hotel. We weren’t the only ones who’d come this way to avoid the chaos outside. Others arrived in pairs and small groups; official-looking people in suits carried briefcases; others dressed in business casual, talking with hand gestures and lights in their eyes. They carried with them an air of anticipation that buoyed my own. I couldn’t wait to start talking to people. Breathing deep, I caught the scent of werewolves, plus other brands of lycanthrope I didn’t recognize. I studied the people around me, but couldn’t sort out what scent went with whom.

The hallway wound around to the main lobby, where the noise from the protestors carried through the glass doors. Barricades kept them from blocking the entrance entirely.

Check-in tables stood in the back of the lobby, and people were lining up before them and talking to the half-dozen young-looking volunteers planted there. Grad students, wanna bet?

“Kitty?” a male voice behind me said. I turned to look. “Kitty? It is you!” He was about my height, athletic, with handsome Latin features. He had a smell of feline about him—lycanthrope. That big sexy smile of his hadn’t changed at all.

“Luis!”

I opened my arms for a hug, but he came right up to me, trapping my face with one hand, planting the other hand on my hip to lock me against him, and he kissed me, long and leisurely, on my lips. My hands clenched on his shoulders, but it happened so fast I didn’t have a chance to push him away. He’d pounced on me like the cat he was. My knees went weak and my body flushed before my brain could respond.

“No,” I said, peeling myself away from him. Bracing my arms, I kept a space between us. “I cannot do this.”

Ben stood at my shoulder, staring a challenge at Luis. “So. You two know each other,” he said, deadpan.

Luis stared right back, and I tried to interpose myself between them. Ben got in my way.

This probably looked terrible on the outside. “Um. Luis. This is my husband, Ben.”

Luis looked him up and down and pursed his lips, skeptical. “Husband, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to cool the blush in my cheeks by force of will. It wasn’t working.

“But you’re not wearing a ring,” he said, taking hold of my left hand, bringing it to his chest, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles.

“I keep it on a chain,” I said, peeling out of his grip again. “Rings tend to get lost during shape-shifting.”

“Ah,” Luis said with a sigh. “Well, congratulations, I suppose. You’re a very lucky man.” He winked at Ben, who managed to stay bland.

“I think so. Most of the time,” he said, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. Oh, I was never going to live this down.

“And you’re happy?” Luis said, in a tone that indicated he didn’t think I possibly could be.

“I am,” I said. “And you?” Deflection was always a good strategy.

He shrugged dramatically. “At the moment, I’m suffering a terrible disappointment.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to project annoyance. I was still blushing. Ben was still glaring.

“So … what brings you to the conference?” I asked.

“I’m here with my sister, representing Brazil.”

That put me on firmer territory. “That’s great. I hope I get to meet her. Is she around?”

“I think she’s outside heckling the opposition. She’s as much an activist as ever.” He glanced at the front doors to the protests outside, then noticed my frown and lined brow. “You think this is going to turn serious?”

I shook away the concerned expression. “I don’t know. I hope not. If it does, it’s been coming for a long time.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” he said. “These days, you can’t have an international anything without someone protesting it. It’ll blow over.” His smile was probably meant to be blasé and comforting.

“Yeah,” I said, unconvinced.

“As happy as I am to have run into you, I’m on my way to a meeting with some of the other delegates.” He touched my arm and looked deep into my eyes, totally ignoring Ben.

“I’m sure I’ll see you around,” I said, waving a little.

“I very much look forward to that,” he said, running his gaze up and down my body before turning to saunter to the hallway and meeting rooms.

Oh, dear …

“Okay,” Ben said. He was still glaring, at me this time. “You want to explain that?”

Um, yeah … “You remember the Senate hearings in D.C.? You remember a couple of mornings when I showed up looking sleep-deprived and pleased with myself?” This had happened before Ben and I were married, before we’d hooked up. Before he’d been infected with lycanthropy, even. I had nothing to be guilty about.

“Yeah, I think I do,” he said.

I pointed the direction Luis had gone. “That was him.”

“Oh. I see. He smelled weird—what is he?”

“Jaguar.”

“Really? You’ve seen him? His jaguar, I mean.”

“Yup.”

“Sexy jaguar?”

“If you like that sort of thing,” I said.

“I think I want to kill him,” Ben said.

I furrowed my brow at him. “That’s your wolf talking.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“You can’t kill Luis. Your wolf can’t kill Luis.”

“Oh, I think we could. But we won’t. At least not right now.” His smile was a tad feral.

“Ben—”

“I’m just saying,” he said.

This was going to be a long week.