Kitty Steals the Show

Chapter 13

I FINISHED MY interviews well after dark, and was cranky and in desperate need of some dinner. Another day gone, and the conference was already half over. Despite all my on-air proclamations to the contrary, I felt like I hadn’t accomplished anything. But I had to keep up a good front. We were supposed to be saving the world, weren’t we? Maybe I ought to set the bar a little lower. The conference was half over, and we hadn’t had any riots yet. There, that was something to be proud of.

Ben met me at the studio, and we walked back to the convention. Emma was going to meet us there with the car to take us back to the town house.

“Where’s Cormac?” I asked once we’d left the studio.

“Nick Parker invited him to dinner, and he said yes. Apparently Amelia wants to meet the family.”

“Huh. That’s so weird.”

“I don’t know. I think it’ll be good for him. He actually seems to be developing social skills.”

“You mean he can’t hide anymore,” I said.

“Yeah, that, too.”

“Hmm, to be a fly on that wall.” I wished them all well. After a hundred years in limbo, Amelia was getting a second chance. A happy ending of sorts.

“How’d your interviews go?” Ben asked.

I sighed. “Maybe Matt can fix it all in post-production.”

He chuckled. “That bad?”

I winced. “I can never tell. I got some great people to come in, recorded a couple of really great interviews. We ought to be able to get a good couple of hours of show out of it.”

“But?”

“It feels like spitting into the wind sometimes.”

“Here I was thinking this whole conference would never have happened without all your work.”

“Work, or mouthing off?”

“Yeah,” he said and put his arm over my shoulders.

“Thanks, I guess. But is it for the best? Would it have been better if this had all stayed underground?”

He waited a few steps before saying, “I don’t know.”

I tried to imagine a world in which I didn’t have my show—in which I had never announced to everyone that I was a werewolf—and had a tough time with it. I’d still be bottom of the pecking order of the pack at home, the old alphas would probably still be alive, and still beating me up. I’d have never met Alette, Emma, Dr. Shumacher, Tyler, Luis, Esperanza, or a dozen other of my friends. Including Cormac. And Ben would be dead, because I wouldn’t have been there for Cormac to bring him to, to save him after he’d been attacked.

I reached around and hugged him. “I wouldn’t want things any different.” He kissed the top of my head.

We continued on a few more steps, warm and comfortable, before Ben said, “I suppose this would be a bad time to ask you how your speech is coming along.”

I groaned. “I still haven’t written it. What am I going to do?”

“You can always wing it. That might be kind of fun.”

“For who?”

“I’d bring popcorn to that,” he said, and I fake-punched his shoulder.

We reached the hotel. A few protestors lingered, gathered behind the police barricades and holding their signs. Most of them seemed to have given up for the evening.

Vampire-centric programming would be going on now. I turned my nose to the air and watched the clumps of people that had gathered outside the front doors, smoking and talking while waiting for taxis. A few vampires stood here and there, indistinguishable from other conference attendees, unless you knew what to look for: their skin seemed to radiate cold, and they didn’t breathe, though some of them did smoke as an affectation. They didn’t have to worry about a pesky thing like lung cancer, after all.

Emma wasn’t on the sidewalk, so we went inside to look around. The lobby was still fully lit, busy. All the chairs and sofas were occupied with intense-looking people chatting. I studied the crowd, my nose working to take in scents.

I spotted Emma at the end of a darkened hallway, talking to an earnest, dark-haired man dressed in business-casual. He was a vampire—maybe he’d been at the shindig the other night, but I didn’t think so. Thinking Emma had business and I might be interrupting, I held back to wait for her to finish. They had to know Ben and I were there; I hadn’t been trying to mask my approach. But she’d crossed her arms, her stance was rigid, and the other vampire had moved close to her, looming. When Emma shook her head and looked away, I had to intervene. If I made a mistake I could be embarrassed about it later.

“Hey, Emma, there you are!” I said in my most chipper blond-girl voice.

The stranger glared at me, maybe hoping he could use his vampire powers to flay me alive. Since I wouldn’t meet his gaze, he couldn’t do anything.

“Hi, Kitty,” she said, eyeing the other vampire. Her voice was even; I couldn’t tell if she was happy to see me, pleased at the interruption, or what.

“I’m Kitty,” I said, sticking my hand out, focusing on the guy’s chest to avoid looking at his eyes. I could just about feel Ben wincing behind me.

I couldn’t tell anything about the guy. He might have been Middle Eastern and pale or European and tan. He might have been a newly turned vampire like Emma, or have the dust of centuries in his bones. Whoever he was, wherever he came from, he sneered at my hand and walked away, into the darkness of the corridor behind him.

Emma watched after him, even when he turned the next corner and disappeared.

“Well, he seemed friendly,” I said.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, sounding tired. She gave Ben a thin smile as she walked past him toward the doors. She didn’t even seem bothered that Ben had slipped a stake into his hand. Cormac had probably given it to him—just in case, no doubt.

“What exactly were you planning on doing with that?” I said, nodding to the weapon.

“What do you think?” he said, returning it to an inner jacket pocket.

“This isn’t the place or time for that,” I said.

“You know what Cormac would say? That you trust them too much,” he said.

“No. I trust them just enough. I’m not powerful enough to pose a threat to any of them, and because of my place in the public eye, they can’t risk hurting me. In the meantime, we can all sit around pretending like we’re friends while we try to get information out of each other. It’s all politics.”

By the time we joined Emma on the sidewalk outside, the car had arrived and we piled in for the ride back to Mayfair. As much as I wanted to grill her about who that vampire was and what they’d been talking about, I kept quiet. She was in silent, inscrutable mode. The vampire default.

The car parked in the courtyard of Ned’s town house. Another car was already there: the sexy Bugatti from the other night.

“Ned has visitors?” I said.

“Apparently,” Emma said, brow furrowed. So she wasn’t expecting anyone.

In the foyer, one of the house’s staff approached. “Miss, Master Alleyn has visitors and would like you to join him in the study.”

“Thank you.”

Ben leaned into me. “You’re going to try to get yourself invited to that meeting, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.”

“One of these days, we’re going to take a real vacation. None of the skulking,” he said.

That sounded so nice. “Someplace with a warm, sunny beach.”

“Vampires don’t hang out on sunny beaches. Sounds good to me,” he said.

Smiling back at him, I sidled up to Emma.

“Visitors, huh? Anyone I’d be interested in meeting?”

“Oh, probably,” she said, then considered a moment. “Why not? You want to come along?”

She led us through the house to a set of double doors made of some rich, polished wood that smelled opulent, and knocked softly before opening it. We entered another manor-house library, filled with books, priceless furniture, and portraits, still impressive if not as grand and packed with amazing artifacts as the house in Dulwich.

Ned and two other vampires sat before the fireplace. One of them was Marid, looking as worn and kindly as he had the other night. He smiled when I entered, as if pleased to see me, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Did he see me, or did he see another tool in his machinations? The other was the one in the poet’s shirt I’d accused of knowing Byron. Tonight, he looked practically modern, in a T-shirt, dark blazer, and slacks. He appeared younger than the others, which didn’t mean anything. Raising an eyebrow, he turned to Ned, presumably for explanation.

As always, Ned was at ease in the surroundings, in a frock coat and trousers and silk shirt. “Ah, Emma, excellent.” He greeted her with a broad smile. “And you’ve brought our guests. Ms. Norville, I must apologize, I’ve been a terrible host, wrapped up in all this other business. But then, so have you, I gather—what exactly were you doing in Sevenoaks yesterday?”

He was keeping tabs on us—I shouldn’t have been surprised. I could still be annoyed. Giving him a sweet smile, I said, “It was a personal matter.”

“Not even a little hint?” he said, beseeching—teasing me. My expression didn’t flinch.

“Are you sure she should be here?” said the younger-looking vampire.

“She is intriguing,” Ned said. “Marid, what say you?”

“I’d be interested to hear the Wolf Queen’s opinion,” Marid said.

“I’m not the Wolf Queen,” I muttered.

The young one laughed. “All right, color me intrigued.”

“Ms. Norville, Mr. O’Farrell. Meet Antony, Master of Barcelona.”

“The Antony with the car?” Ben said, thumb over his shoulder pointing to the courtyard, and Antony turned up a hand in assent. Ben smirked. “Nice. Subtle.”

“Can we trust them?” Antony demanded of Ned.

“They’re all intriguing,” Ned answered.

“Can we trust you?” I said back to him. “Whose side are you on?”

“That’s too simplistic a question,” the Spanish vampire said, and I wanted to scream.

I laughed instead. “How hard can it be? Are you a good guy or a bad guy?”

He raised a sardonic brow.

Ned said, “Kitty…”

I took a deep breath, counted to ten, and groped toward politeness. “I’m sorry for interrupting. What were we discussing?”

Antony’s chuckle was nervous. “I must confess, Ned, it’s disconcerting to hear a werewolf speak to us in such tones.”

“Wolf Queen,” Marid said calmly.

“You may convince me yet,” Antony answered.

“That’s not what you were talking about,” I said. “In fact, I’m betting you were talking about Mercedes Cook and who’s thrown in with Roman.”

Antony made a pointed sigh. “Right. Mercedes and that bastard Jan are here because they want to move against you, Ned. They’ll put one of Dux Bellorum’s puppets in your place.”

“Jan?” I said. “The smarmy guy with the goatee?”

Ned’s lips twitched. “Yes. And I’ve seen no evidence of their intentions. Mercedes would only act if the situation were unstable, and it’s not.”

“She’ll act precisely because you are so comfortable. With London in her pocket, her hold—Dux Bellorum’s hold—on Europe would be unbreakable.”

Ned shook his head. “I’m not a lynchpin.”

“Talbot approached me,” Emma said, her clear voice a contrast to the others. They turned, startled by the interruption. “He suggested I start spying on you, Ned.”

“Talbot, who is that?” Antony said.

“Talbot is one of Jan’s,” Marid said.

Antony’s expression darkened. “It’s a very short step from asking her to spy on you to using her to remove you.”

Ned steepled his hands and gazed at the air, distracted. “They targeted you because you’re new. A stranger to them.”

“They didn’t understand that they weren’t asking me to betray you, but Alette,” Emma said.

“You’re Alette’s, then?” Antony said. “I don’t think anyone knows that. The old girl’s still got her hand in it. Good.”

Emma turned away, her smile thin, pained.

Ned said, “It’s their usual mistake—discounting you Yankees entirely. To think, they all believed Alette mad for moving her household. But the lack of competition overseas made her—and her followers—powerful. I’m curious—what did he offer you?”

“The usual. Second-in-command of London. I’m not old enough to want that kind of power. They’d give it to me, then destroy me with it.”

“I’m very glad Alette sent you to me, Emma love.” He caught her hand and kissed it lightly.

“She wanted me to learn,” Emma said, sounding young and tired. “I’m not sure she had any idea I’d get caught up in all this.”

By way of interruption I said, “I had my own encounter last night. Werewolves saying they served the Master of Venice delivered a message telling me to stay out of things, for my own good.”

“They even sounded worried about us,” Ben added.

Ned nodded thoughtfully. “Worried that you wouldn’t be safe, or worried that you’re powerful enough to cause trouble?”

“Who knows,” Ben said.

“Filipo hasn’t said a word all week,” Antony said. “What side does this put him on? And why talk to her?”

“Maybe he’s a fan,” I said, shrugging. “The whole thing makes me more curious, not less.”

“You certainly are something of a wild card,” Ned said.

I crossed my arms. “You really think Mercedes will try to replace you as Master of London?”

He shrugged. “I’ve no idea. I’ll be on alert, certainly. But this is about more than London.”

“It’s the public question, Kitty,” Marid said. “So much has been revealed. How much, then, do we continue to hide? Is hiding even the right response anymore?”

“Exactly,” Antony said, pointing. “We bring the fight to the public, then no one can hide.”

“You’re in my territory now,” I said, quirking a grin. “I can tell you all about publicity.”

“Do you advocate it?” Marid asked.

“Jury’s still out,” I said.

Antony said, “Right now the most visible public vampire is Mercedes Cook. She’s beautiful, amiable, charming, has given dozens of interviews—and she’s a follower of Dux Bellorum. We have to counter that, get one of our own in the public eye.”

“You have someone in mind to be your first public vampire?” I said. “’Cause you know, I could help out with that. It’s not too late to get in on this week’s show.”

They all looked at Ned, who rolled his eyes.

“It’s perfect,” Antony argued. “Cook was already famous before she declared herself. It endeared her to the public. Ned can do even better than that—he was famous four hundred years ago! She’s an actress, you’re an actor—who better?”

“I will have Shakespeare, Marlowe, and John Donne scholars camped on my doorstep for the rest of eternity. Do you have any idea what I’d go through?” Ned said. He leaned conspiratorially toward me. “I married Donne’s daughter, did you know that?” I hadn’t.

To get a scoop like that, to be the one to help Ned Alleyn go public as a vampire … my talk show personality was absolutely drooling. But the rest of me knew it wasn’t that simple.

“It only works if people believe you’re really Ned Alleyn,” I said. “Can you prove it? Link the person you are now with who you were then?”

“That won’t be the issue,” Ned said. “Mercedes Cook has endeared herself to the public because they don’t have to believe that she’s four hundred years old, or older. She rose to fame in current living memory. She says she’s a vampire and it makes her a novelty, but it doesn’t make her threatening. Try to tell that same public that an Elizabethan actor is still alive—it’s not merely fantastical to the average person, it’s frightening. I’m willing to listen to the argument that more of us need to become public figures. I’m not willing to agree that that person ought to be me. There are better choices.”

“You’re being stubborn, Ned,” Antony said.

“I’m also right,” he answered.

“I think I agree,” I said. “It would be like a grave opening up and the occupant climbing out. Too creepy.”

“Kitty’s made a career of public relations,” Ned said. “We would do well to listen to her.”

“You’re a coward, Edward Alleyn,” Antony said.

“I’m also over four hundred years old. There’s a correlation. Besides, I don’t see how that matters. It’s not as if Mercedes is rallying the masses to the cause of our enemy.”

“Not yet,” Antony said. “But if she already has the majority of us on her side, there’ll be damned little to oppose that when the time comes.”

“You talk like this is going to be a real war. Not a metaphor,” I said.

“It is,” Antony said, as if it was obvious.

“And you think it’s coming soon.”

“Don’t you?”

“Depends,” I said. “Soon on your scale or mine?”

“Soon on a mortal scale, Kitty,” Ned said. “Dux Bellorum has exposed himself these last few years, revealing himself to people like you, who are—or at least were—outside the Long Game. He’s gathering power. It can’t be long.”

I sat on a chair at the edge of their circle, leaning forward. Ben stayed behind me, hand on the chair’s back. I could feel his warmth radiating.

“What’s he planning, then? Everyone I’ve talked to about the Long Game says it’s leading to something, that there’s an endpoint. What are we talking about? He enslaves all the werewolves? Destroys all the vampires? Overruns nations with his hordes? Runs for president? Does anyone have any idea?”

“‘And there were voices, and thunders, and lightnings; and there was a great earthquake, such as was not since men were upon the earth, so mighty an earthquake, and so great.’” Ned the orator intoned the words, which filled the room, and the house, echoing through the foundations.

“That’s not Shakespeare,” I said.

“No,” Marid said. “It’s the Book of Revelation.”

Oh. Well then. “Okay. So we’re talking Biblical. That still doesn’t tell me anything.”

“If we knew, we’d be able to stop him, wouldn’t we?” Antony said.

“We’d prefer to stop him before we reach that point,” Ned said. “None of us really wants to find out what he has planned.”

The conversation reached a lull; maybe we were all contemplating the possibilities. It was enough to turn any party somber. I had an urge to call Cormac to ask his advice, interrupting what was no doubt a nice domestic scene across town. But I wasn’t going to ask him in front of the vampires. I asked myself, as I often did when I was stuck in a situation I couldn’t seem to solve: What would Cormac do? What did the true hunter’s extinct call for in this coming war?

Cormac would say to go after Roman until we completely smoked the bastard. Trouble was, we’d tried that one before. Maybe we had to come at this a little more defensively.

I straightened, caught their attention, spoke. “In summary, you’re worried that London is in danger from Mercedes and her allies, and you don’t know who to trust among the vampires. So why not turn to the werewolves? Ally with them.”

Antony chuckled. “I don’t mean to sound rude—I’m happy to listen to any and all recommendations of course—but what can the werewolves possibly do to help?”

I managed to keep my voice calm. “Caleb has united the werewolves of the British Isles. They can help you.”

“Ah, yes, you’ve gone and met Caleb all on your own. When were you going to tell me about that?” Ned sounded genuinely put out. As if he wasn’t the greatest actor of his generation, able to sound however the hell he wanted.

Flatly I said, “You never asked. As I was saying, the werewolves here are independent, not under your thumb at all—”

“Because I don’t need them,” Ned said. “Caleb understands that. We don’t bother each other. It’s an equitable arrangement.”

“You don’t need each other, either, I understand. Rick in Denver and I have the same deal—except we go a step further. We help each other, because the city is stronger when we work together. That’s how we’ve kept Denver out of Roman’s hands.”

“Werewolves aren’t that powerful,” Antony said.

I spread my arms. “Hey, I’m the one who broke up your party the other night.”

“Regina Luporum. Hmm,” Antony said, tapping a finger on his chin, considering.

Facing the ceiling, I growled. Ben patted my shoulder and kissed my cheek. “You brought this on yourself, hon.”

“Fine. I quit.”

He just grinned at me.

“Perhaps she’s right, Ned: you should arrange a meeting with Caleb,” Marid said.

London’s Master regarded me with a narrowed gaze. “Kitty, perhaps you should arrange the meeting. Since you two apparently get along so well—”

“I wouldn’t say that—”

“If I approach him he’ll think I’m conspiring. He won’t trust me. But if you mediate…”

“But you are conspiring,” I said.

“Yes, for all our benefits,” he replied.

I’d practically asked for this, hadn’t I? I put my hand over Ben’s and glanced at him. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s worth a try. You’ve said it before—the more people are keeping watch against Roman, the better.”

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and walked to the other side of the room to make the call.

His greeting when he answered was practically a bark, designed to make the listener cower. I resisted the urge and tried to sound annoyed. “Hello to you, too. It’s Kitty Norville.”

“I can hear that. What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into?”

“Nothing yet. I’ve volunteered to mediate. Ned Alleyn wants a meeting.”

“He does, does he? What for? Going to try to convince me that due to current turmoil I need to put myself under his protection? For my own good and the good of my wolves, of course.”

“Sounds like you two already had that conversation.”

“What’s he want, then?”

“I believe he wants to discuss an alliance.” Smiling pleasantly, I turned to look at Ned, who was watching me with a raised brow.

“Now I’m confused. What are you all playing at?”

“Agree to a meeting and find out.”

The rumble over the line might have been distant static, or his growl. I hoped I dangled enough bait in front of him. He had to be curious.

Finally he said, “All right, but we meet on my turf. Hyde Park in an hour. My people have used the park for emergencies before—we can disable enough of the CCTV cameras to create a protective blackout.”

“I think that sounds entirely reasonable.”

“And just him. He can bring flunkies to stand watch, but when it comes to talking it’s just the two of us. I don’t want any of those other Masters there.”

“As long as the same applies to you, I expect. A few flunkies, and that’s it.”

“He’ll never agree to terms I set. Just watch.”

“We’ll see you there, Caleb.” I clicked off before he could harangue me further. “There. Meeting set.” I relayed the details.

Ned pursed his lips like he’d tasted something sour. “I was hoping we could meet someplace a little more … sheltered. Like here, for example.”

He’d overheard the whole thing. Just meant less for me to explain. “I think he has every right to avoid that. You’re not worried, are you?”

“Don’t worry Ned,” Antony said, smiling. “We’ll be there to back you up.”

“Ah, no you won’t,” I said. “Caleb said just Ned. You all have to hang out somewhere else.”

“Isn’t that a bit unreasonable?” Ned said.

“Not to mention presumptuous,” Antony said. “We agreed to the meeting with certain assumptions in mind. Who are you to undermine that?”

“A werewolf?”

“Exactly! The nerve—”

“Get used to it,” I said. “If this is going to work, you have to treat Caleb and me as equals. If you can’t do that—why are we even here?”

Antony slouched back in his chair, glowering.

“There there,” Ned reassured him. “Humility is a lesson we all have to learn.”

“Remind me again—why are we listening to her?”

“Because she’s faced Dux Bellorum and lived to tell about it. Pay attention, Antony.”

They planned among themselves, which of Ned’s followers should tag along as bodyguards, and how close Marid and Antony could get without violating Caleb’s terms.

“I assume you and I are going to this?” Ben said, leaning in close and whispering. We couldn’t guarantee that the vampires didn’t hear us, but we could make the attempt at privacy.

“I’m the mediator, right?” I whispered. “You know, this makes me seem a whole lot more badass than I actually feel.”

“Just keep playing badass and you’ll do fine.”

“Thanks, dear.”