Kitty Rocks the House (21 page)

“Yeah,” he said, unconvinced.

Because if we couldn’t talk her out of the coup, we’d have to drive her out of Denver. At the very least.

*   *   *

B
ECKY WAS
already at the diner when Ben and I got there. An attempt to gain the high ground. She occupied a booth and sat facing the door, so she’d see us as soon as we entered. And we’d see her.

Ben and I made our plan before arriving. I went to Becky’s booth, and Ben waited by the door, arms crossed, staring at her. She couldn’t leave without getting past him. She’d have to sit and talk until I said she could go.

I approached, and she stood. Again, to claim high ground, to avoid having to crane her neck back and look up at me from a weak position. All I had to do was stand and glare. To her credit, she matched my gaze, didn’t look away. She really was strong enough to lead the pack, I believed that. I just couldn’t let her do it while I was around. I wasn’t going to let anyone drive me out of the city again.

“You’re not going to change my mind,” she said in a rush, another attempt to one-up me by getting in the first word.

I stayed calm. I had all afternoon for this. “Have a seat,” I said, nodding at the booth. To press the point, I sat first. Conceding the ground because it didn’t matter to me—I was stronger, and I didn’t have to prove it.

She sank into the seat opposite me. Looking deeply uncomfortable on the hard plastic, she perched on the very edge, hands folded on the table in front of her, shoulders bunched to her neck, jaw hard and her eyes like ice. Good. This wasn’t supposed to be comfortable. Though with both of us sitting like that, staring at each other like we were getting ready to arm wrestle in what was supposed to be a hip happy fun-time coffee joint, we were really out of place. Let people wonder.

“Why are we here?” Becky said, her voice low.

“I want to talk.”

“No, I mean why are we
here
?” She gestured at the setting. “Why not New Moon? That’s where you usually do your
talking.
”

I had a moment of doubt. Becky had been a werewolf longer than I had; she’d been part of this pack longer than I had. Where did I get off thinking I could boss her around? But I knew the answer to that: she didn’t look at the big picture. She wasn’t in charge—couldn’t be in charge—because she didn’t care. She didn’t think ahead. Otherwise she would have known the answer to her question.

“Because that’s my territory and I wanted to meet on neutral ground,” I said. “No, scratch that. Forget about the pack. I want us to have a normal conversation. Two people having coffee. Change of context. Got it?” She didn’t let her expression flicker, not a millimeter. I tried again. “I want to hash this out as people. Human beings. Without all the claws and blood.”

“If you want to avoid that, you can just leave town. You and Ben both. Nobody has to get hurt.”

Oh, she was trying so hard to be brave. Offering me the same deal I’d—me and T. J.—had tried to get from Carl, once upon a time. It hadn’t worked then. Didn’t Becky remember?

I said, “What do you want, Becky?”

“You know what I want,” she said, dodging.

“You think you want to be alpha, right? With Darren? You don’t even know him.”

“Neither do you.”

“I’m not the one sleeping with him.”

Her gaze dropped, only for a second before zeroing in on me again. A flash of weakness that made her blush. Wolves didn’t blush, that was the human side coming through. “He’s right, Kitty. You shouldn’t be alpha if you can’t even be here to lead.”

They were going to keep beating me up with that, just like Cheryl did. But only if I let them, ha. “That’s a different issue entirely. One we can deal with separately. Right now I’m talking about
you.
”

“I’m strong enough to be the alpha. Darren and me both.”

“I never said you weren’t.” My smile felt absolutely rigid. Titanium hard. “I just want you to understand something. If we can’t work this out here, we have to fight. You and me, Darren and Ben. Same shitty cycle over again. I’m not going to leave, and it sounds like you’re not going to leave. If we can’t decide not to fight, then we’ll fight. But let me warn you: if I have to fight, I will win, because I’m fighting for me, Ben, my job, my family, my home. My whole philosophy and outlook on life. I’m fighting for everything I believe in—everything I’ve fought for up to this point. And what will you be fighting for? A guy you met a month ago? He’s cute, he’s got charm, and maybe he’s a great lay—and what else? Who do you think’s going to win that fight, Becky?”

When she looked away, turning her gaze to the tabletop, I knew I’d won. Without lifting a claw. I didn’t say anything, didn’t gloat. Just waited for her to answer my question, to tell me what she wanted to do next, so we could finish our coffee and move on.

Her head bowed, her hair fell across her cheeks, and her now-slouching shoulders began to tremble. She made a sharp noise, half-gasp, half-whine.

I leaned forward. “Wait—are you laughing or crying?”

When she looked up, her cheeks shone with the stripes of tears, but she was smiling. Both, then.

“I’m trying to imagine having a talk like this with Meg.” The laughter won out, and she wiped her eyes. “I’m just not seeing it. She would never have done anything like this.”

“That’s kind of the point,” I said. I traced the ring of moisture my cup left on the table. “I still have nightmares about her sometimes. Both of them. You know their old place is for sale?”

She went wide-eyed. “You’re not thinking of—”

“God no,” I said. “Never. Getting a place in the woods is one thing, but their place? No.” I shook my head to emphasize the point, then drank a long sip of now-lukewarm coffee. Didn’t matter, the stuff had only been a prop anyway.

Becky took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

If I’d asked her for what, I’m not sure she would have said the thing I thought she should be sorry for. For her ambition? For the near-betrayal? For her infatuation with Darren? All of the above? It didn’t matter, none of it did. Just as long as we could walk out of here on speaking terms and not on the verge of war. So I didn’t ask. Just accepted and moved on.

“Don’t let it happen again.”

“There’s something else,” she said, and I raised an interested brow. “I don’t think he came here for any job, like he told you. I don’t think there’s even a cousin.”

“Really?” I said flatly, wheels in my mind turning.

“The apartment he got is really posh, and he never actually seems to go to work. At least, he’s always right there when I call him. I think he might have come to Denver just to check out the pack.”

“Well, then,” I said. “I’m going to have to think about that.”

“Yeah,” she answered, sounding tired.

Ben took the opportunity to saunter over, slouching into the booth beside me in a mostly unassuming manner. He directed his gaze toward Becky instead of at her.

“We good here?” he said.

“Are you two going to pay a little more attention to the pack? If you don’t want guys like Darren waltzing in here and playing games, you have to actually
be
here.”

“Yeah. We’ll talk.”

We flagged the server for another round of coffee. And we talked.

Chapter 16

O
N
S
UNDAY,
my mother called, as she always did, to ask how things were going, was I doing okay, so on and so forth. As usual, I couldn’t give details, like how I was in the middle of dealing with a coup attempt on my leadership of the Denver werewolves, helping to organize an international supernatural conspiracy, hanging onto my job, trying to stay sane—

So I deflected, and brought up the problem I
could
talk about. “I’m worried about Cheryl. I think I really pissed her off this time.”

“Don’t worry too much about that,” she answered, sounding amused. “You two have been pissing each other off since you were little.”

That was true. But it seemed like as kids we could forget about the grudges more quickly. Fight at lunch, friends again by supper. “Do you think I’m neglecting you all? Because I’m always running around trying to do too much?”

“Kitty, I know if we really need you you’d be here in a heartbeat. You were at Grandma Norville’s funeral, weren’t you? Of course I’d like to see you more often, we all would. But you have your own life to live.”

“If you say so. But Cheryl—”

“She’s going through a rough stretch right now, but she’ll be fine, eventually. You might call her every now and then, take her out for lunch or dinner. Let her know you haven’t forgotten about her.”

“I can do that.” It wouldn’t even be difficult. And just like that, life got a little brighter. “Thanks, Mom.”

*   *   *

P
ART OF
the talking Becky and I did at the diner over third and fourth cups of coffee was make a plan. Darren had a plan. Becky was part of it, and she hadn’t told him the plan was off. So that was how we’d face him. Follow his plan, right up until we didn’t.

Their plan was for Becky to call me that evening and say that Darren was hurting her, and could we please come help. They’d be out by the full moon den, a remote space where we could have a proper showdown. Darren also picked the spot to be symbolic—this was the place the wolves called home, he wanted to prove he could control it. Becky would call, Ben and I would ride to the rescue. Trap sprung.

The hardest part of the new plan was going to be Becky convincing Darren she wasn’t lying when she told him that the old plan was still on. He’d be able to smell the deception on her. On the other hand, he’d only known her a few weeks. He didn’t know any of us, really, any more than we knew him. Maybe he’d think her strangeness was nerves.

She went home and showered to get the smell of the diner, and Ben and me, off her. Then, we went home and waited.

“We should call Cormac, let him know what’s happening,” Ben said, pacing across the living room.

“And have him ride to the rescue with his gun and silver bullets? No,” I said. We could do this without him.

Wincing, Ben scratched his head, ruffling his hair even more than usual. “You’re right. God, I hate this.”

Finally, Becky’s call came. “All right,” she said. “Time for you to rescue me.”

Darren must not have been within hearing range. She didn’t sound scared, or even like she was faking being scared. Nervous, yes. But also determined. I expected nothing else from her.

“We’ll be there soon,” I answered. “Just hold on.”

“Yeah,” she said and hung up.

I looked at Ben, and he kissed me.

“What was that for?” I said.

He shrugged. “I felt like it.”

“You want to maybe do it again?”

He did, arms closing around me, lips soft against mine. Well, I felt better.

“Ready?” he said, after his next breath.

“Ready.”

*   *   *

T
HE SUN
had set by the time we reached the mountains and turned onto the side road in the national forest where we spent most of our full moons. The air was gray, the trees lost in shadow. Not the best time of day to be fighting.

We had troops in reserve: Shaun, Tom, and Wes, the toughest males in the pack. They followed us in a second car. Darren hadn’t talked to anybody else in the pack. He recruited Becky and expected the two of them to be persuasive enough to convince everyone else to drive us out. He was old-school, monarchical. All he had to do was prove he was stronger, and everyone else would fall in line.

Shaun parked, and Ben pulled our car up beside his, my passenger window next to his driver’s window.

“He’ll smell you as soon as you get close,” I said. “So hang back. Ben’ll call you. Keep your phone on and you’ll be able to hear everything. Maybe this’ll just blow over.”

He grinned. “You just keep thinking that. The rest of us will be ready to pounce.” He gestured to his companions, who glared with lupine glints in their eyes. Yeah, I was glad they were on my side. “We’ll stay downwind,” he added.

And so the general marshals her forces.

“Worried?” I asked Ben, as he guided the car along the last hundred yards of dirt lane to the meeting point.

“Naw, not really,” he said, though the hint of sweat on his skin put the lie to that. “I probably ought to be. But I have the confidence of the righteous. It’s like a trial—I can’t walk into a courtroom expecting to lose or I’ve already lost.”

He kept his handgun in the glove compartment, just in case.

Around the next curve in the road sat a car I didn’t recognize. Darren’s, I assumed. We parked behind it. Under my rib cage, Wolf kicked. The triggers were here—the place, the time, the smells. Ben at my side, moving carefully, keeping a strict control of himself. It was time to run. Everything said so. But no, not now. Maybe later. Next full moon for sure. That was how this worked.

We stepped out of the car. “Shall we?” Ben offered his elbow, an elegant gesture.

Smiling, I wrapped my arm around his and we continued on, as if heading to a fancy dinner or the symphony. Hmm, there was an idea, for after we got through this. Assuming we got through this …

Ben dialed Shaun’s number on his phone, exchanged a short greeting, then put the phone in his pocket. “There. We’re bugged.”

Twenty more paces brought us into the clearing, a meadow bounded by pines on one side and lichen-covered boulders on the other. Nice, open ground, all of it shadowed in the twilight. Nowhere to hide. Darren and Becky stood in the middle, waiting.

“Hi,” I said, super cheerful, arm raised in a wave. “We’re here to rescue Becky. That’s what’s on the script, isn’t it?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d show up,” Darren said.

“What, was there a schedule? Are we late?” I said, looking at Ben.

“Hmm, my watch must be slow,” he drawled.

“You can’t lead this pack,” Darren said, hands in fists, teeth bared in anger. “You haven’t been leading it for a long time. You should admit it. Step aside. It’s best for everyone.”

I clicked my tongue. “Wow, about that. We have different ideas of what’s best. You put on a good show, but you strike me as being one of those alphas who thinks all they have to do is beat people up and that makes them strong. Did Becky tell you, we had a couple of those alphas in charge before I took over? Nobody liked it much.”