Kitty's House of Horrors (7 page)

Being a werewolf isn’t an either-or thing. It’s not the Jekyll-and-Hyde dichotomy. It’s more like a scale, with wolf at one
end and human on the other. Some days were a little more wolf than others. Some people were a little more wolf than others.
The couple of times I’d met him, I’d had trouble deciding where Macy fell on that line. Did he look kind of burly and mean
because he was a boxer turned pro wrestler, or because he was a werewolf who lived right on the edge, who always had a little
of his wolf side seeping to the surface? He’d once been the heavyweight world champion. He was huge, solid, like a tree. He’d
retain all that mass when he shifted—as a wolf, he’d be monstrous. How much of his fighting instinct came from his wolf side?

After a moment he said, “I know all about keeping it under wraps. Being able to go into a ring and fight it out with somebody
without losing my temper, without losing myself? Yeah. But I don’t always get to see a stretch of open land like that. Before
I leave, I’m going to shift and run out there. I don’t always get to have company when I run, either. Thought it’d be nice
for a change.” His smile turned thoughtful. I considered that maybe there was a real guy hiding in there and not just a thug.

“You don’t have a pack at home?”

“Don’t need one. You?”

“Yes. A pack, a mate, the works. It’s kind of nice having people to watch my back.”

He looked back out the window, a cynical curl on his lips. “Too much trouble.”

A camera mounted in the corner of the room recorded the entire conversation.

I didn’t have anything else I wanted to say. Not much else I could say—I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what all went on in
Macy’s head. I had another two weeks here to get his life story.

The elk were moving off, back to the woods on the far side of the meadow. The grass was so high it brushed their bellies.
The idea of running through that meadow on four legs, with wind in my fur and the scent of wild in my nose, did appeal. But
I’d rather do it with Ben.

One by one, the lodge’s residents woke up and drifted downstairs—except for the vampires and Dorian, who had retired to their
sealed basement room before dawn. Breakfast was light—bagels, pastries, yogurt, juice—and so was the conversation. Tina caught
me up on the doings of the other investigators on her TV show, Jeffrey talked about the books he’d been writing—self-help
inspirational-type stuff about grief and moving on, the kind of thing I’d normally call drivel except this was Jeffrey, whose
earnestness made it work. Grant was reticent, not giving any hint about the conspiracy he’d alluded to last night. Ariel sat
at the edge of her seat and soaked it all in. I might have been expected to consider her the competition, except she was so
darned nice about it. And she was in the business for the same reasons I was: She was insatiably curious about the supernatural,
and she wanted to help people cope. She was one of the people
I
called when I got fed up with it all.

But the person here I was probably most curious about was Lee. He was the last one up, and I cornered him in the kitchen on
the pretense of refilling my mug of coffee.

“Good morning,” I said, watching him pick through the breakfast food set out in the kitchen.

“Hi,” he said, wearing a charming smile. He wore a T-shirt and sweats, and his hair was still disheveled from sleeping. “You’re
looking at me like you want something,” he said, glancing at me sideways. He didn’t sound put out. Amused, maybe. I must have
had a pretty intent look on my face. I was trying to see the seal under his skin. I was still trying to figure out his smell.
Not that I’d spent enough time around oceans to know, but I had the feeling he smelled like an ocean.

“Were-seal. I’m trying to imagine how that works.”

“Just the way you’d expect it to, I suppose.”

“Okay,” I said. “But how do you get bitten by a were-seal?”

His smile widened. “You’re out hunting seals by kayak, and you run into one that hunts you back.”

Well, of course. But what in that statement really got me: “Wait a minute. You hunt seals by kayak?”

He chuckled. “You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Fair enough. I suppose it’s as good a way as any to give the cameras what they want, right?”

I shrugged. I was trying not to pay attention to the cameras. I wanted to do this show on my own terms, which meant asking
my own questions.

He said, “Alaska still has a lot of little coastal towns that depend on subsistence hunting. So yeah, I hunt seals. Sometimes
I don’t use the kayak.” He raised a knowing brow.

“Are we going to get to see what that looks like?” I said. “The seal half, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” he said. He looked out the kitchen window to the meadow and mountains. Every window here had a view. “That
lake is freshwater. It just wouldn’t be the same. I tried to get them to move this to Alaska. Maybe for the second season.”

“So will you hate me if I make a ‘fish out of water’ joke?”

He gave me a long-suffering roll of the eyes.

After a quick breakfast, I explored the rest of the house, which even after a day was beginning to take on the scents and
moods of its new residents. It was a wild mix of smells that I wasn’t used to, male and female, human, lycanthrope, and vampire,
none of them pack or family. If I thought about it too much, if I let it get to me, it wouldn’t feel safe.

According to the info I’d been given ahead of time, the lodge was a rental. Usually, it was occupied by groups on various
corporate retreats or hunters during hunting season. The lake was supposed to have good fishing. A utility shed at the back
of the building held not only the lodge’s gas-powered electric generator and solar batteries, but a stash of equipment: fishing
poles, kayaks and paddles, snowshoes and cross-country skis. I didn’t feel the need to get that adventurous.

The basement, where Anastasia, Gemma, and Dorian stayed, was off-limits, but I wanted to contrive a way to sneak down there
at some point. Prurient curiosity was killing me. I knew that actual vampires didn’t go in for the coffin thing. So did the
three of them share one big bed? Did human Dorian sleep while the two undead women were comatose during the day? Unsurprisingly,
I couldn’t find any outside basement windows to peer into.

Upstairs, the rest of us had claimed most but not all of the dozen or so bedrooms. Two extra remained. One of them—the least
inviting, stuck in the back northwest corner of the house, with no sun and no views—remained clean, crisp, and unused. The
other, I couldn’t tell, because the door was locked. I rattled the knob. Still locked, and solidly. The door didn’t even wiggle
against its frame.

“Huh,” I said and leaned close, pressing my ear to the wood, taking a deep breath to try and catch a scent. Nothing. Storage,
I imagined.

But there was nothing like a locked door to make a place kind of spooky.

The kitchen had a back door, leading outside to a generous pile of chopped wood for the fireplace.
Escape route,
I thought in spite of myself.

After investigating the lodge, I took an hour to study the lay of the land around it. Jerome was right; this countryside practically
begged me to shape-shift and go running. The wide, grassy meadow went on for miles, ringed in by even more impressive woods,
and it all smelled like it was teeming with good things to eat. Two paths led away from the clearing in front of the house:
one led to the airstrip in the middle of the meadow, the other to a hiking trail into the surrounding national forest.

I turned my face to the sun, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath of the world. I couldn’t help but relax. I’d have to remember
that over the next week. If—when—I got pissed off, count to ten and step outside for a moment.

Joey Provost cornered me on my way back to the lodge. He stepped off the front porch, making a beeline for me. I tried not
to let it agitate me; he was just eager, not moving in for the kill. Probably. I stopped and waited for him.

“Kitty! Can I have a word?”

So many snarky ways to respond to that. I refrained; my smile was polite and fake. “What can I do for you?”

“We’re going to get started with the meat of the show tonight,” he said. “We’ve come up with this great idea, but I need your
help.”

Uh-oh. I seemed to remember this clause in the contract I signed regarding playing nice when the producers made requests like
this. Then again, it was only the first day—how bad could it possibly be? My smile didn’t get any less fake as I waited for
him to explain.

“We want people to start opening up, start talking about themselves. Now, I’m not expecting big revelations. But we need to
at least break the ice. I figure this is right up your alley. You talk to people all the time—your callers, the people you
interview. You’re good at asking the incisive questions, and that’s all I need you to do here tonight. Just interview everyone,
like it’s a mini version of your show.”

“You want me to do all your work for you,” I said.

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” he said. “I’d rather look at it as showcasing your talents to the benefit of the entire program.”

“Ooh, you’re good,” I said. That was the kind of lingo that sold shows to network executives.

“So that means you’re up for it? I’d like to see at least one question for each of the participants. And I’m sure you’ll have
no trouble keeping the discussion entertaining.”

“That’s my job,” I said.

“If you could get started as soon as Anastasia and the others join you. That’d be
great,
” he said.

“Great,”
I echoed.

A
fter dinner, I called everyone to the living room and announced, “Okay, kids. Camp counselor Kitty has a game, so gather ’round
and play nice for the cameras.” Gordon, who was manning the gear this evening, gave me a grin over his camera.

The vampire trio had joined us again, presumably after their dinner. I covertly studied Dorian for puncture wounds but didn’t
find any. One blood donor for two vampires seemed a bit light. Dorian would be fainting by the end of the first week. Maybe
the vampires didn’t take much. Maybe that was how they stayed so thin. Their clothing this evening was as stunningly elegant
as it had been the night before. Gemma wore a different gorgeous cocktail dress, and Anastasia wore flowing silk trousers
and a camisole. Still all in black.

I was starting to really like this room, with its rustic, comfy furniture, warm wood fixtures, and soft lighting. A fire burned
in the big stone fireplace, making the room cozy, and I had the feeling of being protected in a cocoon of light and warmth
that kept the cool night at bay. Like curling up with my wolf pack.

Sitting cross-legged on one of the big armchairs, I faced the gang spread out around me, seated on sofas, on the hearth in
front of the fireplace, and in Lee’s case, on the floor. In front of me I held the sheet of paper I’d written my questions
on.

I regarded the gathering. “I suppose you’re all wondering why I’ve called you here this evening.” I grinned, barely able to
keep from giggling, because that line never got old.

Lee smirked. “Did you call us here just so you could say that?”

“No, actually. Mr. Provost put me up to getting the ball rolling tonight. So we’re going to play a little game called Kitty’s
Truth or Dare. Except without the dare part, because I shudder to think what you all would actually be willing to do.”

“Maybe we can save that part for next week, when we start getting punchy,” Tina said.

“Hm. Wouldn’t that be a bad idea? And now that you’ve said it out loud, Joey is sure to go for it,” I said. “Really, this
will be painless. I’m just going to ask you a few questions.”

“Wait a minute,” Tina said. “Show of hands: how many of you has Kitty interviewed on her show?” Jerome, Ariel, Jeffrey, and
Tina raised their hands. To me she said, “Is this going to be anything like that?”

Hm, I’d definitely have to come up with a way to get the ones I hadn’t interviewed yet on my show. I studied them appraisingly.

“Kitty, you look like you’re hunting,” Lee said.

“Who, me? So yeah, those guys can vouch for me. It’ll be just like that. Nothing to be afraid of.” Why did they all look so
skeptical? “Look, this is voluntary, and if you have a problem with it you don’t have to play along. But I think it’ll be
fun. It’ll be like those office ice-breaker things.”

“Those are never fun,” Ariel said darkly.

“Right. Fair enough. So, let’s get the rote ones out of the way first. Anastasia, what year were you born?”

“You want that in Gregorian or Julian?”

“Ooh, fancy,” I said. “So did you just drop a hint or what?”

“I’m not going to answer that question, Kitty,” she said, donning a catty smile.

“Didn’t think so. But I wouldn’t feel like I’d done my job if I hadn’t asked. Gemma, how about you?”

She glanced at Anastasia, like she and Dorian always did, as if asking permission. It irritated me, but I wasn’t going to
change it by bitching about it. Now, if I could get each of them alone and grill them for a couple of minutes…

I didn’t detect any sign from Anastasia, no hint that she’d spoken or given Gemma a cue, but the younger vampire turned to
me and answered, “Nineteen-eighty.”

I blinked. “Holy crap, we’re the same age.” I looked her up and down, judging her all over again. She looked about twenty,
give or take a couple of years. That meant about the same year I’d been attacked and turned into a werewolf, she’d become
a vampire. I suddenly felt like I was looking into a “what might have been” mirror. What if it had been a vampire instead
of a werewolf that had gotten me?

I wouldn’t be winning any beauty pageants, for one thing. Also, to be honest, I was glad I hadn’t frozen in time at that age.
I’d grown a lot since then. I liked to think I was a much better person now, and that I wore my age well.

“You know,” Conrad said, “
not
claiming to be a thousand years old almost convinces me that you’re for real.”