"Yes."

"And if another vampire—with his own flunkies—moves into the city and wants to become Master of it, they fight. This war you're talking about."

I nodded.

"Right. You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to treat this like any other gang operating in my jurisdiction. This is gang-related violence. And if there's a gang war going on on my turf, I'm going to crack down. And you can pass that along to any vampires you happen to chat with, okay?"

I nodded. I loved Detective Hardin, really I did. She was an awesome, kick-ass woman cop. Didn't take any crap, didn't put up with any nonsense. I didn't want to end up on her bad side.

"Great. I'm glad we've had this little chat. You have my number in case you have any other bits of enlightenment for me?"

"Yes."

"Good. Because I don't care what they are, or who they think they're Master of, nobody gets away with this in my city."

She gathered her photos and left. I'd half expected to be arrested, to be questioned about how much I knew—to be forced to lead them to Arturo at gunpoint. I knew where he kept his lair.

But she let me go because she was going to tail me. She was going to have people watch to see who I talked to, who tried to contact me, and they'd follow those threads until they had someone they could charge.

I almost ran after her and begged to be taken into protective custody. Surely no one could get to me if I was locked in a jail cell. But then I'd have no place to run.

I called Ben on my way home. Every ring he didn't pick up terrified me. I was too late. They'd gotten him, Carl had tracked us and I was next—

"Yeah?" Ben finally answered.

I stumbled over the words in my hurry to speak. "Ben, we have to get out of town. We have to leave right now, we can't stay, we—"

"Kitty, whoa. Slow down. What happened?"

"She's dead. I don't know how Carl got to her but he did, and Hardin showed up at work with the photos and he'll know we helped her. He's probably looking for us right now."

He didn't have to ask who was dead. "But you took her to the airport. How did he get to her? How did he get her away from there to kill her?"

"I don't know! It doesn't matter now. It's all over."

"Where are you?"

"On my way home."

"We'll talk when you get here. Stay calm, okay? Keep it together."

He'd picked up my catchphrase, the thing I told myself when Wolf came too close to the surface, when her instincts started to override reason.

I nodded, which wouldn't reassure him on the other end of the phone. "Okay. I'll be okay." No, I wouldn't.

"I'll see you soon."

"Okay," I said, and we both hung up.

Nobody tried to kill me between the parking lot and the door of Ben's condo. It seemed like a miracle.

He was sitting on the sofa, waiting for me, looking far too calm. I wanted him to have guns on the coffee table. We had to circle the wagons, defend the Alamo.

We regarded each other in a moment that felt anti-climactic. Where was the panic? The hysteria?

He said, very calmly, "What happened?"

I heaved a frustrated sigh. "There's no time, I'll explain while we drive. We have to leave now."

I went to the bedroom, found a duffel bag, and started shoving clothes into it. I didn't care what clothes—a handful of underwear, some shirts, some jeans. Pack it up, jump in the car, and go.

"What are you doing?" Ben said softly, patiently, like a parent with a kid throwing a temper tantrum. Waiting me out.

"Leaving. Rick made his move and lost. He's probably dead. Jenny is dead, I couldn't save her, Carl got to her somehow. And he'll kill me, and you, and there's nothing we can do."

"Kitty—it's not your fault Carl got to her. You tried. You did what you could."

"I can't fight him. I can't even instigate a little civil disobedience."

Closet to bed, a few more clothes. Couldn't get the zipper closed, so I pulled something out and threw it aside. Had to get my toothbrush in there.

"You'd leave while your mom's sick? Abandon her too?"

She'd understand. If I explained that staying here was going to get me killed, she'd want me to leave. I didn't answer. I turned my back to him, moving to grab my bag.

He tried again. "What if there was a way to stand up to them without fighting. There's got to be a way to compromise—"

"That's the lawyer in you talking. These people don't understand law, or compromise, or talking. There's no plea bargains here. It's all violence and hate." My throat was tight, my voice thick. "You don't know what they're like, you don't know, you haven't seen the worst of it, I've tried to keep you safe from that and here I am dragging you into it—"

"Don't worry about me. I can look out for myself."

"No, Ben, you can't! You don't understand, you haven't seen what he's like, what he can do. You think all werewolves are like me, but they're not, most of them are fucking insane—"

"Like you? Like me?"

He was being far too rational. "You know what I mean."

"All I know is you're starting to smell more like a wolf than a human and if you don't sit down and pull it together you're going to lose it."

Didn't have time for that. This was a time to let Wolf's instincts guide me. We were in an enemy's territory, we couldn't fight, so there was only one thing to do. I had to make him understand that. "Come with me, Ben. You have to."

He hesitated, and I could see the wheels working in his mind, as he edited his own speech. Thought of one thing to say, then rejected it.

"I'm staying," he said finally. "Do whatever the hell you want, but I'm not running." He walked out of the room.

Funny thing was, that pause gave me a chance to catch my breath, and to realize that he was right. That had been the Wolf freaking out, and she was right on the surface, blurring my vision. I wasn't thinking straight.

I sat on the bed and stuck my head between my knees, drawing in long breaths. Keeping it together.

I called after him, hating how plaintive my voice sounded. I didn't want to have to beg. "Ben, we can't stay here. They'll kill us."

He reappeared in the doorway, not looking any more amenable or sympathetic. We might manage our own little civil war right here.

"No, they won't," he said. "You say I haven't seen the worst of it, but you don't know anything about what I have or haven't seen. And I can take care of myself, no matter what your alpha attitude says about it. We've got weapons. If we make a stand, they'll leave us alone. I'm willing to make that stand even if you're not. This is where I live. I'm not going to go running away to Pueblo just because you're chicken and you've got your tail between your legs. And I hate that that isn't just a metaphor anymore." He ran his hands through his hair. He was breathing hard, and smelled a little more wolf than human.

I wasn't keeping it together. I wasn't listening to reason. The pack of two was breaking up. No, it wasn't, this was just a pause, a hiccup.

"Are we a pack or not?" I said.

Softly, he said, "I don't know."

It was something of an epiphany, that the instinct to run was stronger than the need to stay with him. To defend him. As he said, he could look out for himself. He had guns on his side.

Bag over my shoulder, I stalked out.