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Carrie Vaughn: Kitty's Greatest Hits

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Carrie Vaughn Kitty's Greatest Hits
  • Название:
    Kitty's Greatest Hits
  • Автор:
  • Издательство:
    TOR
  • Жанр:
  • Год:
    2011
  • Язык:
    Английский
  • ISBN:
    978-1-4299-8000-5
  • Рейтинг книги:
    3 / 5
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Kitty's Greatest Hits: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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The first-ever story collection from the bestselling author, including two all-new works! Kitty Norville, star of a bestselling series, is everybody's favorite werewolf DJ and out-of-the-closet supernatural creature. Over the course of eight books she's fought evil vampires, were-creatures, and some serious black magic. She's done it all with a sharp wit and the help of a memorable cast of werewolf hunters, psychics, and if-notgood-then-neutral vampires by her side. not only gives readers some of Kitty's further adventures, it offers longtime fans a window into the origins of some of their favorite characters. In 'Conquistador de la Noche,' we learn the origin story of Denver's Master vampire, Rick; with 'Wild Ride,' we find out how Kitty's friend T.J. became a werewolf; and in 'Life is the Teacher,' we revisit Emma, the human-turned-unwilling-vampire who serves the aloof vampire Master of Washington, D.C. This entertaining collection includes two brand-new works: 'You're On the Air,' about one of Kitty's callers after he hangs up the phone; and the eagerly awaited 'Long Time Waiting,' the novella that finally reveals just what happened to Cormac in prison, something every Kitty fan wants to know.

Carrie Vaughn: другие книги автора


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Not that it wouldn’t hurt a whole lot in the meantime.

David moved to intercept him. His shoulders were bunched up, like hackles raised, and his glare seemed to bore through the killer. In response, the man stumbled back, clutching the knife with both hands and pointing it defensively. The knife was shaking, just a little.

Hell. Maybe she could just talk him out of it.

“You’re going to put the knife down now,” Kitty said, her voice low, rough. “You’re not going to kill anyone else. We won’t let you.”

Then, unbelievably, he started crying. Didn’t make a sound, but tears spilled from his eyes. Kitty thought, Something drove him to this. Something pushed him over the edge and he couldn’t cope, and he was psychotic enough to begin with that he did this. This was something else that could happen when you didn’t have a place to go home to at Christmas.

Wolf didn’t have an ounce of sympathy for a predator who slaughtered for no reason, who didn’t recognize territory, who didn’t obey the rules. Wolf could spot the signs and see what was happening right before the killer tensed and raised his knife to attack. Shouting, he made a mad plunge for the door, ready to slash his way past her and David.

She’d have let him go. They could call in an anonymous tip, let the cops go after him. They’d saved these people—wasn’t that enough?

But David stopped him.

She thought he was shifting, that he’d lost it and his predator had burst forth to meet this human predator in challenge. The killer lunged forward, ready to stab down and cut his way through to the door.

David ducked and tackled him. Planted his shoulder under the guy’s ribs and shoved. Werewolves were stronger than people. David threw more power into the move than appeared possible. The killer swung sideways and banged into the flimsy plywood wall dividing the living room from the kitchen.

David didn’t shape-shift. His wolf hadn’t taken over. He had used the wolf’s power and managed to stay in control, though he was breathing hard, and his teeth were bared.

He didn’t let the killer recover. Pouncing, he pinned the guy to the floor, tossed the knife away, and leaned a rigid hand on his neck, pressing down with all his weight. The killer sputtered, gasping for air, thrashing, but he couldn’t escape David’s strength.

So maybe he wasn’t entirely in control of himself.

“David,” Kitty said. David flinched, startled, and glared at her, something amber and animal lurking in his eyes. He was barely under control. “Keep it together. You don’t have to kill. Just keep it together.”

“Then what do we do?” His voice was a growl.

“We’ll leave him for the cops.”

Kitty waited until he nodded, until his muscles relaxed, until he stopped looking like a wolf in human skin, before she knelt by the victims. But when she approached them, they screamed around their gags.

“No, no, I’m not going to hurt you,” Kitty murmured. Once again, she wondered what she and David looked like from the outside. Were their eyes glowing or something? Maybe they were. Her senses were on a trip wire.

She moved slowly, and the husband let her work off the gag and the cords on his wrists. “Do you have rope or duct tape or something?” she asked.

He nodded quickly. “Kitchen. By the sink.” Then, just like the killer had, he asked, “What are you?”

That question again. And those wide, fearful eyes.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said. She went to the kitchen and found a length of clothesline in the drawer by the sink.

Kitty helped David tie up the killer. They probably tied him much tighter than he needed to be. But she didn’t want to take chances.

“I don’t want to have to answer questions from the cops,” David said.

“That’s okay,” Kitty said. “I don’t think we should stick around.” She turned to the couple, who were now free of their cords. “Call 911. Get help.”

“Thank you,” the man said breathlessly. “Thank you, thank you—”

“Thank us by not telling the cops about us. Okay? The guy got sloppy. You did this yourselves. Okay?”

Both of them nodded frantically. They kept looking at the bound killer like they expected him to attack. But he lay limp, staring unblinkingly at nothing. He whined with every breath. Like a hurt wolf.

In a moment, the man was talking on the phone, and Kitty and David stood by the door. She had a weird urge to say “Merry Christmas” or something before they left. The woman was looking back at her, cradling her torn and bloody arms in her lap, gasping for breath. But smiling. Just a little.

Kitty smiled back, then pulled David out the door with her.

They trudged back to town, led by the sounds of cars on the freeway and the faint glow of lights through the misty air. Snow was falling picturesquely. Her feet, and the rest of her, were soaking wet. David was using the snow to wash blood off his hands.

He looked at her. “Why the hell are you smiling?”

Kitty was grinning so hard she thought her face would break.

“Why am I smiling? Because we totally saved those people. We’re werewolf superheroes! We’re Batman and Robin! That’s so awesome!”

Then again, that might have been the adrenaline talking.

* * *

David wanted to howl at the night sky in joy and triumph. He’d almost shifted. He’d almost gone over the edge. Attacking that guy had come instinctively. It had been like hunting. But he came back from the edge. With Kitty’s help, he’d pulled himself back and stayed human. And that felt powerful.

The glaring yellow sign of the Waffle House shone like a beacon over the snow-covered prairie. Like the Star of Bethlehem over the manger. David felt a surge of relief when he and Kitty came back in sight of it. Civilization. A roof and hot coffee. Glorious.

No telling how much time had passed since they’d left. They crept in through the still unlocked kitchen door. The cook was gone. Both of them were soaking wet from running in the snow. At least it made the blood he’d gotten on him less noticeable. Almost, he could think about the blood without wanting to turn wolf.

Kitty rubbed her arms and shook out her shirt, squeezing water out of the hem. “Not the smartest thing I’ve done recently,” she muttered. “The one time I didn’t bring a change of clothes…”

David resisted an urge to reach out and hug her. From affection. From happiness. How long had it been since he’d been happy? Despite the adventure, the running, tracking the killer, and the violence of what he’d witnessed, the urge to turn wolf had faded, a whisper rather than overwhelming thunder. He’d taken a step toward asserting his dominance over that part of his being. The world looked brighter because of that.

Jane, the waitress, came in. “There you are. I thought maybe you’d ducked out on me, but your coat and bag are still here, but you weren’t in the bathroom, and I was starting to worry…” She narrowed her gaze. “What are you two doing back here?”

David opened his mouth but couldn’t think of what to say. It was Kitty who announced, cheerfully, “Oh, you know. Looking for mistletoe.”

He blushed, which must have lent some truth to her excuse, because Jane quirked a smile and left again.

“Sorry,” Kitty said. “But people tend not to ask more questions if you tell them you’ve been fooling around.”

He wanted to burst out laughing. “Does this sort of thing happen to you a lot?”

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