Carrie Vaughn - Kitty Steals the Show

“It’s like that for a lot of us,” I said.

Then we were back on the street, in the middle of the afternoon, among the streets and town houses that were simultaneously familiar and otherworldly.

“That went a hell of a lot better than I was expecting,” Cormac said.

“What were you expecting?” Ben asked.

“That he’d say we were crazy and call the police.”

“It’s a brave new world,” I said. “Werewolves are real. So are ghost whisperers, apparently.”

THAT EVENING, Emma and I sat in the lobby of the hotel’s convention center and people-watched.

“There, that one.” She nodded at one of the few vampires who’d finally shown up at the conference. He was male, wearing a conservative suit and tie, and had a suave demeanor. “He’s one of Njal’s lieutenants. Njal was the one with the wolves in chains.”

“So they’re bad guys.”

“Not necessarily. Njal has a reputation for taking very good care of his people, including the werewolves. Not all vampires are like that.”

“It just never occurs to him not to keep werewolves as pets on chains?” I said.

“Yeah,” she said, wincing. “They do because they can.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” I said.

“Ned says Njal’s been playing both sides. There’s no telling where he stands—or if he’ll even stick with a side once he finally decides.”

Cormac said he had more exploring in London to do. No doubt Amelia was fascinated with the changes the city had undergone in the last century. Ben and I returned to the conference and another round of lectures and presentations. Emma had arrived after dark to take a look around—to scout on Ned’s orders, I was pretty sure.

I debated telling her about meeting Caleb. Her, and by extension Ned. The two camps in London, vampire and werewolf, seemed autonomous and separate. Which shouldn’t have surprised me—that was how it seemed to work most places the werewolves weren’t overtly under the vampire Master’s control. Maybe I had hoped that the situation Rick and I had in Denver—independent but allied—was more common. If other places worked that way, we wouldn’t be such an anomaly.

A few minutes later Emma pointed out another one—a thirtysomething woman whom I recognized as one of the underlings from the convocation last night arriving to talk to Njal’s lieutenant. They left together a moment later.

“She’s with Petra, the dark-haired woman with the flashy gown,” Emma said.

“So Njal and Petra are on the same side, whichever side they’re on.”

“Again, not necessarily. They could be feeling each other out, trying to cut a deal, or trying to spy on each other.”

“Can’t we make any assumptions with you people?” I said.

She shrugged. “Not beyond the obvious. We drink blood and sleep at dawn.”

“I can point out a dozen lycanthropes here, and they may or may not have a pack back home. Some species don’t even have packs, and even if they do most of them probably haven’t checked in with the local pack alpha. Are there any unallied vampires? Any of them here on their own and not affiliated with a Master?”

“You do occasionally get lone vampires, but it’s rare,” she said. “Being part of a Family makes things so much easier.”

“I’ve had people call into the show—new vampires who say they’d never even heard of Families. They were victims of random attacks, and they have no choice but to take care of themselves. What about them?”

“They usually don’t last very long,” she said, frowning. “Denver’s Master, Rick—Alette says he was unaffiliated for centuries.”

“Yeah. I’m guessing he was always a bit of a black sheep.” It wasn’t my story to tell. But it was a good story.

“I’d like to meet him. He sounds interesting.”

“He is. He’s a really good guy. You should come visit.” I spotted a familiar face across the room and nudged Emma. “There, that guy? Were-jaguar.”

“Really?”

Luis had spotted me by that time and strolled over, arms spread wide in greeting. “Kitty, my love!”

I blushed. Why did I always blush? I smiled at him and tried to cover it up. “You know it’s true, you sit here long enough you’ll see absolutely everyone at the conference walk past.”

“So you’re saying you were waiting for me?” he said, and winked.

He looked at Emma, and his smile fell a millimeter—only a bit of chill. His nose flared, taking in her vampiric scent. He seemed uncertain, though his tone was bright as ever. “Who is this very lovely person?”

“This is Emma, a friend of mine,” I said. “Emma, Luis.”

“Hi,” she said, offering her hand.

He tucked it in both of his, bowed over it, but didn’t kiss it. “Lovely to meet you.” She nodded graciously in turn.

“Any plans this evening?” he said, straight to me.

“Conference, work, hanging out with my husband.”

“I still suspect that you’re pulling one over on me with that.”

“It’s not a joke,” I said.

He sighed in mock despair, hand over his chest. “Well then, I’ll have to leave you to it. We’re still having dinner tomorrow tonight, yes? You and your husband.”

“And your sister,” I added.

“Until then.” He prowled away, throwing a last half-lidded, cat-like look over his shoulder.

“Wow,” Emma said. “He’s nice. ”

“Hmm, he can be. I actually met him in D.C. when I was there for the hearings.”

Her smile seemed wistful. “I get the feeling he doesn’t like vampires too much.”

I shifted my seat so I looked at her instead of out. She didn’t seem at all insecure or self-conscious. She sat tall, chin up, gaze out, at ease. She had all the elegance and poise I attributed to vampires.

“Is it getting any better?” I asked. “Or easier, at least?”

She continued gazing over the lobby as if she commanded the space. “I’ve stopped gasping for air when I think I’ve forgotten to breathe. It’s … it’s hard to describe. The rules all changed. And the new ones make perfect sense.”

Emma was the only vampire I’d known before she’d been turned. I hadn’t known her long, then, but I remembered. She’d changed, since then. Still, people were always changed by crises, by the trauma in their lives. I’d certainly changed. I hardly recognized the naïve kid I’d been before I was attacked, or even the super scared one I’d been right after. That was years ago. How could we not change?

If what I’d told Luis—that if you sat here long enough you’d see everyone associated with the conference walk by sooner or later—was true, I figured I’d eventually spot Paul Flemming, and I could … confront him. Not tackle and maul him, alas. Find out what he’d been doing for the last four years, besides dodging criminal charges in the U.S. But he hadn’t made an appearance.

“Oh! You’re Kitty Norville aren’t you? Really? ”

Emma and I both jumped, startled.

Two young-looking women, holding onto each other’s arms, came up to us, eyes wide, biting their lips, giggling. They wore skirts and T-shirts, hip scarves and jewelry, and had their pale hair bundled up in scrunchies. They were so thin they might fall over in a slight breeze. I pegged them as grad students or lab assistants of one of the attending scientists—old enough to be here, young enough to not care if they had any dignity about it. They carried on like groupies, and I felt that little flush of celebrity. Getting recognized in public was simultaneously weird and flattering. The human side of me never got tired of the feelings of validation and accomplishment. Wolf thought it felt a little like being hunted.