Kitty Rocks the House (7 page)

I approached, hoping the pause in my stride wasn’t too noticeable.

“You must be Kitty Norville,” the stranger said in a steady tenor, forthcoming and friendly, just as I was opening my mouth to speak.

He’d gotten in the first word, throwing me completely off my stride. My radio DJ aversion to dead air saved me from too much of a pause. “Right,” I said, putting a leash on Wolf so we could keep this as human as possible. We were all civilized here. “And who are you?”

“It’s an honor to meet you, finally,” he said, reaching out a hand for shaking. I did so, and he turned to Ben, who had to uncurl his arms before he could shake. “And you must be Ben. Good to meet you.” Ben raised a brow at me.

I blinked the unanswered question back at the stranger.

“Oh! I’m Darren. I wanted to know—do you have room in your pack for me?”

Chapter 6

W
HAT ELSE
could I do but invite him inside? We sat around our usual table in back and talked. I asked Shaun to bring waters all around. Not beer, not yet.

I wanted to ask Ben what kind of vibe he was getting from the guy, but I couldn’t. Doing so would make me look uncertain. Weak. Besides, Ben was playing strong and silent. He hadn’t taken his gaze off the new guy, and if the stare wasn’t an outright challenge, it was at least a warning. Not that Darren noticed. He was so self-assured, so unwary, even surrounded by unknown werewolves, I almost couldn’t believe he was one of us, despite his stance and his scent. Even the toughest were always looking over their shoulders for the next challenge.

I wasn’t here to challenge him, but to take the measure of him. Find out his story, then figure out what to do about it. Maybe I should look at this as a job interview.
Tell me, what’s been your greatest challenge as a werewolf?
Yeah, right …

“So. Darren,” I said. “What brings you to Denver?”

“Job offer from a cousin. In construction. Couldn’t say no.”

“You’re not on the run from something, or trying to elbow your way in?” Ben asked.

He tilted his head, questioning. “No. Does it look like I am?”

“I’m a lawyer, I assume everyone’s guilty,” he said. His smile showed teeth. Darren’s smile slipped a bit, which felt like a small victory.

Three members of my pack were on hand: Becky—a tough woman, slim, with tousled auburn hair—moved to the bar, sitting to watch with Shaun. Tom, one of the higher-ranking wolves in the pack, stood from the table where he’d been sitting. All three had grown wary, their bodies bracing for some kind of response, fight or flight. Waiting for whatever fallout was on its way. If I told them to pounce on this guy, they’d do it right here in the restaurant. They were waiting for my signal. Their attention made me itch. I made my smile match Darren’s and looked over to them.

“Guys, can you give us a few minutes?” I looked at each one of them, meeting their gazes, emphasizing the command. Tom sat and turned away. Becky hunched over her beer. Shaun gave me a raised-eyebrow, are-you-sure look, and I glared. Yes, I was sure. The manager found something to do at another part of the bar. It was nice that he wanted to help.

“They’re good people,” Darren said. “You should be proud of what you’ve done here.”

Did he think I needed his approval? I suddenly wanted to growl. I hadn’t had to work this hard keeping my back straight and my proverbial tail in the air in a long time. “Not that I asked or anything.”

“I’m sorry, we’re getting off on the wrong foot,” he said, but in a way that made me think he’d known exactly what he was doing and wanted to see how I would react. He continued matching my gaze. I couldn’t look away. “I’m a friend of Nasser’s. He said you impressed him. Denver sounded like a place where I might fit in, so I called my cousin, and he had the job. Easy.”

I didn’t know if that made things better or worse. “
Nasser?
He didn’t send you to keep an eye on us, did he? I told him we didn’t need any backup—”

“No, really, I’ve just been looking for a place to settle—a pack to join. From what he told me, yours sounded good. I’ve been on my own for a while, moving around a lot, doing this and that. It gets old. Really, Nasser knows I’m here, but he didn’t send me.”

Lone wolf—that made sense. He certainly knew how to carry himself. “Why do you want to be part of a pack now? You strike me as someone who’d do just fine on his own.”

“Why do you?” he returned. “You tried being a lone wolf, didn’t you? How long did you last?”

He must have listened to my show, to know a detail like that. Made me warm to him—a bit.

“Less than a year.” It would have been longer, but Ben had gotten infected with lycanthropy, I’d taken care of him, and we’d fallen in bed together. Not long after that we were back in Denver, running the pack. Darren was right, I hadn’t been happy on my own.

Could him coming to Denver be that simple? He just wanted a pack he could get along with?

“You see?” he said, arms open like it made perfect sense.

“Fish gotta swim, bird gotta fly, werewolf gotta have a pack?” I said wryly.

He chuckled. “I’m surprised you don’t get werewolves coming here all the time, wanting to be part of
your
pack.”

“Most werewolves know better, I think.”

“You sound sensible,” he said. “I wanted to see it firsthand. But if I flunk the audition, just let me know, and I’ll leave. No hard feelings.”

As if I were the one who needed to feel bad for rejecting him. I was getting to the point where I wanted to keep him around just to learn what made him tick. He was either the most well-adjusted werewolf in history, or he was up to something.

“You could have called ahead,” I said. “A little warning would have been nice.”

That smile of his never dimmed. “Maybe I wanted to see how you’d react if I just walked in. That kind of thing will tell you a lot about a pack.”

It would, indeed. “You’re not really endearing yourself to me.”

“Right. Sorry. I won’t cause trouble, I promise.”

Ben wasn’t any more tense than he’d been when the interview started. Which meant he didn’t sense any more threat than he had twenty minutes ago, when Darren first appeared. If Ben had reservations, he’d let me know. I couldn’t think of a reason to say no. Besides, if he was a friend of Nasser’s, that made him an ally. Theoretically.

“Okay,” I said. “We’ll give it a try. You just have to follow the rules: be nice, and don’t be stupid.”

He stared at me. “Don’t be stupid? That’s it?”

“That’s it,” I said. And it really was. Anyone who couldn’t manage those two things, I probably couldn’t help. “Well, and I’d like your address and phone number so we can stay in touch. If you need a place to stay we can probably find you something.”

“No tithing?” he went on, and I shook my head. “No rituals of submission? No hierarchies?” He was talking about ceremonies that some packs went through—alphas demanding demonstrations of obedience, usually involving violence and bloodshed.

I said, “As a wise alpha wolf recently told me, if you have to beat people up, you’re doing it wrong. I’m not saying you won’t get challenged by anyone else in the pack, because you will, but we can be relatively civil about it. I prefer to put the ‘were’ ahead of the ‘wolf.’”

“Nasser also says you’re not subservient to the local vampire Master.”

“Rick? No. I mean, we’re friends. But just friends.” That sounded weird … Speaking of Rick, I still needed to talk to him about Hardin and her wanted poster.

“That’s really unusual,” he said. And was I pleased that he sounded impressed?

“We work together, hopefully for the good of everyone. And who’s interviewing whom, here?”

He spread his arms in a show of apology. “All right, then. What else do you want to know about me?”

Ben and I looked at each other—me passing the ball to him. Because just like “How old are you?” was the obvious question I always asked vampires, werewolves had their obvious question.

“How did you become a werewolf?” Ben asked. “Did you choose it or were you attacked?”

“I was attacked,” he said, without any self-consciousness. Totally straightforward.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“It happened a long time ago. I was nineteen. Still a kid, really. I was out fishing near my family’s cabin, stayed out too late, the full moon was up. You probably hear stories like that a million times. The local pack took me in, helped me cope. I started making the alpha there nervous, so I left rather than cause trouble. I’ve been seminomadic for probably ten years now.”

“And how do you know Nasser?” I asked.

“I’ve helped him out a time or two, whenever he needed an extra pair of arms. Or claws.” His smile carefully didn’t show teeth.

That made him hired muscle, for whatever shenanigans Nasser got up to. Anti-Roman shenanigans, probably, but still. Darren the mercenary.

My skepticism must have shown through, because he quickly continued. “That was only when I was on my own. Lone wolf. When I’m here, when I’m part of your pack, I answer to you, and that’s it. I figure that’s part of ‘don’t be stupid,’ right?”

I smiled in spite of myself. “You’re catching on.”

“So, do I pass?”

I suddenly realized what was driving me crazy about this whole situation: I was being asked to decide someone’s fate for the immediate future. I shouldn’t have that kind of power. Most werewolves—and vampires, and probably a dozen other supernatural beings as well—would see it as completely normal. He’d asked permission to live in our territory, I could give it or not as I chose. But this wasn’t just about settling down; he was asking to become part of our family—and it was up to me to say yes. When really I should be calling up everyone in the pack, talking to Shaun and Becky, and Ben of course. Maybe even Rick. Might not hurt to consult Cormac as well …

“You’re thinking deep thoughts,” Ben said.

I’d been staring into space, my lips pursed. “No deeper than usual.” Darren was looking at me expectantly. “All right, you’re in. Don’t blow it.” I offered my hand for him to shake, which he did, again. Shaking hands was a human gesture, not a wolf greeting, but he overcame his wolf instincts without hesitation. He was civilized. Housebroken, even. Deal accomplished. I still felt weird.

“Why don’t I introduce you around?” I said, gesturing at the others to join us. “I imagine you’ll meet the rest of the pack on the next full moon.” I did the mental count in my head—eight days away. Sooner rather than later, then. We’d get to see both sides of the new kid.

Shaun approached obliquely from our side of the table, keeping a wary gaze on the newcomer. He was our lieutenant, the strongest wolf in our pack. Our backup. Becky and Tom were tough, but ranked lower than Shaun. They hung back to see how Shaun reacted.

“Everything cool?” he asked.

“Everything’s cool,” I said. “Darren, Shaun. And that’s Becky and Tom. Darren’s going to be staying with us for a while. And not causing trouble.”

Shaun’s lip curled. Yeah, he’d help keep Darren in line, if it came to that. I still couldn’t get a good read on the guy. He seemed unconcerned, smiling and friendly.

“Right,” Shaun said. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure, that’d be great,” Darren said.

Maybe this seemed weird because I felt like we should have been doing this out in the woods, on four legs, duking it out with growls and teeth instead of sitting at a table in a restaurant. We were acting human. But our wolves were sizing each other up. Full moon was going to be interesting.

Shaun brought beers, the others sat with us, and we embarked on a perfectly normal conversation, asking about jobs and work and places we’d lived. Tom knew about an apartment for rent, and Darren seemed to think it sounded good. They agreed to meet about it tomorrow.

Well, this seemed to be going well. Swimmingly, even. The tension around us faded a few notches. My shoulders relaxed, and I didn’t feel a need to keep watching Darren, waiting for him to strike. I was suddenly exhausted. I turned to Ben. “Time to go home?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Thanks, Kitty. I really appreciate it,” Darren said, beaming his calm smile at us.

Not only did he get in the first word, he had to get the last one, too. Whatever.

Shaun went back to work at the bar, but Becky and Tom stayed behind to talk to Darren. The glamour of the new.

Outside, a faint breeze brought the scent of distant mountains, of spring pines and stone, through the asphalt and fumes of the city. I filled my lungs, and the walk to the car was calm.

“Did I make the right call?” I asked Ben.

“We’ll find out,” he said.

“That’s not comforting.” I took his hand and squeezed.

“You’re still wondering if you’re doing this alpha thing right, aren’t you?”

“I’m pushing thirty. Isn’t life supposed to get easier?”

Ben laughed.

Chapter 7

R
ICK NEVER
returned my call that night, and I worried. As I tossed and turned in bed, reaching to the nightstand to check my phone on the off chance I hadn’t heard the ring, Ben kept pointing out that Rick had survived a very long time and could reasonably be expected to take care of himself for the foreseeable future.

“Besides,” he added, “Columban didn’t seem interested in hurting Rick.”

“Then what about those arson cases in Europe? Rick doesn’t know about those and I doubt Columban would tell him.”

He murmured sleepily onto the back of my neck. “Kitty. Relax. Please.”

I tried, honest I did. But I kept waiting for that call, as I watched dawn lighten the sky outside the bedroom window.

Somehow, I got myself to work and made a show of accomplishing something, despite all the potential interviewees who wouldn’t return my calls, press releases I was supposed to be reviewing, messages I should have been answering, my second book that wasn’t writing itself. The file for it glared on my monitor, displaying too much white space.

When my cell phone finally did ring, I dived for it. The prey had revealed itself at last, and I pounced. Even though in the middle of the day, in full sunlight, it couldn’t possibly be Rick, who was holed away in his lair, asleep. I hoped he was.