He looked at me. Bleary-eyed, I stared back at him. "That was Shaun. No sign of anything."

"Where is he?"

"Keeping an eye on your sister's place. Your dad's at the hospital, and I figure their security can look after your folks during daylight hours."

That made sense, not to mention the place would be busy during the day. I hoped Arturo and Carl were still sane enough not to want to draw too much public attention to this.

I ought to go. I told Mom I'd go see her. But I couldn't, not in the middle of this. I didn't want to bring more trouble down on them.

"Cheryl's going to start wondering why strange cars keep parking outside her house."

"I bet she doesn't even notice." He handed my phone back to me.

Moving at half speed, I climbed out of the car. "Ben? Why are you doing this? You keep saying you didn't sign up for this like you don't want to be here, but then…" I trailed off, not sure what I meant. He'd turned out to be good at this, leaping to the fore, keeping me going. What would I have done if it had just been me?

I'd have run away.

"We're pack," he said. "Isn't that what you're always saying? We have to stick together."

That would always be an acceptable answer. That would always be there to fall back on. I wasn't satisfied with that answer anymore.

"Will that be enough to keep you and me together?"

"I hope so." He walked away.

Slowly, I followed, letting my brain run down so I wouldn't have to think anymore.

Arturo and his vampires couldn't move until nightfall. Carl probably wouldn't make a move until he did, which might have been why he hadn't come looking for me. Maybe they wouldn't strike at all. As the silence drew on, as the calls from my lookouts didn't come, I didn't start to hope. I'd become too cynical for that. Too many blows had undermined my safe little life.

I was trying to nap on the sofa when the call came. I lunged for my phone on the coffee table.

"Yes? What is it?"

"It's Becky." She sounded breathless, panicked. "I just got off the phone with Mick."

"Mick, the short guy with the brown hair?" One of the tougher wolves in Carl's pack.

"Yeah, yeah. He says Carl's on the hunt. He's called in everybody, he's going after you."

I sat on the edge of the sofa. "Here? He's coming here?" That would be best. If he was going to go after anyone, I wanted it to be me. I was ready for him.

"No," Becky said, and I could imagine her shaking her head vehemently. "He—Mick I mean—said Carl wants to hit you where it'll hurt the most. It's like he's not even pissed off at you, he's pissed off at what started this whole thing."

"Where?" I asked anyway.

"The radio station. He's going after KNOB."

"When?"

"Now, he's headed over there right now!"

Chapter 12

"What does he think he's going to do? Kill everyone there? Does he really think he'd get away with that? Or maybe he just wants to pee on the rugs," I grumbled at Ben as we got in the car. He didn't answer, just wore his smirk and gave me his hawk's stare. His courtroom lawyer, moving in for the kill hawk stare. He almost seemed to be enjoying himself.

He drove, and I let him because I had things to do. I'd signed off with Becky, after asking her to call Shaun and whoever else she could get to meet us there. We could have ourselves a regular rumble. I ought to decide whether I wanted to be the Sharks or the Jets.

I had an advantage over Carl: an in with the Denver police. I called Hardin.

"Hardin here."

"It's Kitty, I need your help."

"What's wrong?" She sounded serious and businesslike, which heartened me.

"I think I'm in trouble. It's the werewolves, they're after me."

“This has something to do with your little gang war, doesn't it? I'm not going to pick sides."

"My little gang war? I didn't start it, I'm just trying to clean it up!"

"So you admit you're involved?"

I couldn't say anything right, could I? "I think these are the werewolves involved in those murders at the warehouse."

"Are you sure?"

Then I realized that while I trusted Becky, we had no reason to believe that Mick was telling her the truth. Mick might not really be on our side. Carl might have told him to feed us the information, give us a false lead while he struck at another target.

At least, I might think that if I believed Carl had a clever cell in his entire brain.

"Yes."

"Where?"

"At the station. At KNOB."

"I suppose you're headed there now?" I told her yes, and she said, "I'll meet you." And hung up.

Looked like we were going to have us a rumble.

"You ready for this?" Ben said.

"I don't know."

"How many people you think he'll have with him?"

"Six, seven maybe. More if Meg is with him, too."

"And we've got the Denver PD. Not bad. What happens if Hardin and her people are late? Three of us can't fight seven of them. Four if Shaun gets there in time."

"Maybe I can talk to Carl. Talk him out of this."

"Like Gabe did? You bring the gun?"

"No," I said softly, knowing what he'd say to that. I was being weak. I was in denial. "Maybe I can claw him to death."

"No worries. I've got the extras in the trunk."

Extras. Plural. The more tired I got the more ludicrous this plan sounded.

"I don't want to face him again."

"You only have to face him until the police show up. Remember this isn't about you. It's for Jenny."

That got me angry all over again. That, and the fact that Carl, predictably, hadn't gone after me directly, but after something close to me. The part of me he'd never been able to touch—my job. What a jerk.

Far too quickly, Ben's car roared into the station's parking lot. Becky was already there, and Shaun pulled in right behind us. They were hunched and wary, in defensive fighting stances. They looked like they might spring into battle, or leap back in the car and drive off at the slightest hint of danger. I couldn't decide which.

I jumped out of Ben's car before it stopped completely. "Is he here yet?"

Before they could answer, a truck pulled up to the curb, tires squealing, not even bothering to take the few extra seconds to swing into the parking lot. Carl and another man climbed out. He was another werewolf. A breath of musk and wild came with them, fur and skin, and something foreign. An enemy, an intruder. Opposing pack. Another truck and three more followed them. No Meg. Somehow, this was a relief.

I didn't have time to go for the weapons in the trunk. They spotted us. Without hesitating, Carl stalked toward the door. He was huge, tall and muscular—a monster even if I didn't know his other nature. His brown hair and beard needed trimming, and his whole manner was as animal as it could be without him shape-shifting completely. His pack held back, wary, watching what we would do.

Near the doors, I moved to intercept him, trusting that Ben would watch my back.

"Stop!" I called at him.

Carl didn't slow. "Who told you I was coming here? Who warned you?"

"You can't be here, Carl. You need to leave." Brave words. Stupid brave. I braced like my slight body could actually stop him, or even give him pause.

He bent his arms, cocked his fists, and I knew the move he'd throw at me. He'd punch up with one, drive down with the other, trapping me and smashing me into the ground. His lips drew back in a snarl.

I waited for him. I knew what was coming, and I waited. When the blow came, double fists moving like I knew they would because I'd seen this before, I ducked. I wasn't there, and when he lurched into the space I used to be, I shoved. Planted my shoulder in the soft space under his rib cage and pushed.

He stumbled but kept his feet, and for a moment we both froze, staring at each other, panting though our expended effort so far had been slight.