Overhead, the grindylow shivered and gathered herself for a launch.
The armed wolf pointed the business end of the gun at Phillip.
“What the bloody hell?”
Raising my voice I said, “Who let the kitties and puppies down here?”
The small group whirled to me. The wolf with the gun snarled. Stepped away to get a line of fire and pointed it at me, back to Phillip, then at Brute, indecisive, his body rotating slowly, leaving him open to attack. My own aimwas steady on him, but I didn’t want to fire into what sounded like internal werewolf politics. My killing a were in HQ could complicate a lot of things.
“Antifreeze, you okay?” I asked.
He mumbled, “I was taking them to the library. They said they had an appointment with Ernestine. It wasn’t on the calendar, so I called her. She said to send them up, that she’d meet them there. After that, I don’t know. I don’t remember how I got here.”
It hadn’t been willingly. Ernestine was the vamp accountant, a withered, wrinkled ancient woman I called Raisin. People met with her all the time, but not usually in the library, and the mention of a female vamp indicated that the weres had had inside help in staging this FUBAR.Dang it.
The wolf with the gun growled; aimed it steadily at me. I whipped my blade into a modified La Destreza stance and took two steps, edging between them and the SOD and Brute. I gave them my best menacing grin. Beast glowed through my eyes, a bright golden shade. The wolves stared.
“Furballs and hairballs with guns, working together,” I said wonderingly, giving the help behind me access and time to position themselves. “Who’da thunk it?”
Nantale stepped forward, ignoring my insults. “Jane Yellowrock. We are pleased to know that you still live. The Party of African Weres is happy to see you breathing.”
“Really?” I angled the blade, spinning it so the light caught the edges, so the dogs and cats could see the silver plating. A lot of paras were easily poisoned by silver, including were-creatures and vamps. But I didn’t have enough silver on me to take them all down.Come on, Wrassler. Get here. Move it!“The reason I disbelieve you, kitty cat, is because I recall you bringing Paka, a black wereleopard in heat, into NOLA and siccing the little kitty on my then-boyfriend.”
“We were not informed that Rick LaFleur was involved in a romantic relationship. It was unfortunate you suffered because of the spell she wove.”
Kem had known. I smelled, felt, sensed Wrassler andat least four others moving into the stairwell behind me. Finally. But I needed to stall. “You knew that Raymond Micheika, the leader of the International Association of Weres, paid Paka to do exactly as she did. But you might not know that Paka had taken a prior deal, from Kemnebi, to spell Rick and bring him intense pain, turning him into his cat and then leaving him that way. Forever. Terrible thing for a were to do to an officer of the law, wouldn’t you say?”
Asad slowly turned to Kem-cat, a question on his face. “Paka made parley with you prior to her agreement with us?”
“The woman lies,” Kemnebi said, speaking of me.
“You are impudent,” I said. “This woman is your alpha”—I tapped my chest with the hilt—“and though I never sent the video file to the Party of African Weres, I have you on film, groveling at my feet.
“Wrassler, now, if you please.”
Blood-servant-fast, my backup boiled into the basement. Now we were more evenly matched and my heart was no longer in my throat. I slowed the pirouetting vamp-killer and holstered the H&K. Kept my vamp-killer pointed at Kem. “Tell them,” I commanded.
“She smells of alpha. She smells of power and nothing of fear. Does she speak the truth? Is she your master?” Asad asked Kem, horror in his voice. Nantale looked at the SOD on the wall, indecision in her eyes.
“Not worth fighting all of us and a grindy to steal the bag of bones,” I said. Letting Beast into my voice, I growled, “Kneel, Kem-cat. Kneel and give me your throat or you die tonight for the crime of disloyalty to your alpha.”
Kem snarled and leaped at me.
The werewolf fired.
The Brit attacked him.
They tumbled onto the floor, biting, snapping. The gun went off again.
In the space of two heartbeats, everything went to hell in a handbasket.
CHAPTER 4
Not Everything in Were Culture Required Teeth
In midair, Kem’s claws came out; his hands sprouted black fur. His fangs extended. Kemnebi screamed in fury and challenge.
I pulled on skinwalker magics. Pulled on the power that made me Kem’s alpha.
