Kitty Rocks the House by Carrie Vaughn

Author:Carrie Vaughn [Vaughn, Carrie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0100-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

“DETECTIVE HARDIN hired Cormac?” Ben said, when I finally got home and told him the whole story as we settled in for the night.

“I know, right?”

“That’s not exactly what I meant when I said he should go into business for himself,” he said, lying on his back and regarding the ceiling thoughtfully.

Lying in the crook of his arm, I drew on his warmth to ease the knots from my muscles. “That’s what I told him you’d say.”

“And she didn’t arrest him?”

“Nope,” I said.

“Huh. He could do worse than have a homicide cop owe him a favor.”

I propped myself on an elbow. “Are you sure you should be encouraging this?”

“I’m not sure either of us has much of a say in the matter.”

My scrunched expression must have looked grouchy. He levered up just far enough to kiss my lips, and I sank back into his arms.

* * *

I DIDN’T get much sleep, dreaming about attacks of flaming death. Sparks of spell-laden fire still flashed at the edges of my vision when I closed my eyes, lingering memory of the night before. I wondered if Cormac had gotten any sleep. If I worked more, I could forget about it, so I went to the station early the next day and deleted e-mails for an hour.

My cell phone sitting on the edge of my desk rang, and I grabbed it. “Hello?”

“So, what happened to talking ‘tomorrow’?” Cheryl said.

Oh God, what day was it? When had I last talked to her? Days ago. I’d been dealing with Cormac’s broken arm and had completely forgotten about Cheryl. I was the worst sister ever.

I planted my elbows on the desk and slouched. “Cheryl, I’m so sorry. You would not believe what’s been happening. Ben’s cousin broke his arm and we had to take care of him, and—”

“Your life is a whirlwind, yes, I know. If you don’t want to talk to me could you just say so?”

I glanced at the wall clock. Almost noon. “Are you doing anything for lunch today? I could come over. I’ll pick something up, pizza or Chinese or whatever. I’ll come over right now.” I held my breath, waiting for her answer.

Her sigh was long-suffering. “Yeah, okay. I’m home. You don’t have to bring anything, I’ve got a frozen pizza I can heat up.”

“Great. I’m leaving right now, I’ll be there in half an hour.” I grabbed my bag and left.

Cheryl lived la vida suburbia south of Denver, in Highlands Ranch. As I pulled into her driveway, I thought as I often did, this would have been my life if not for the lycanthropy. Some days, that made me sad. Some days, I felt like I’d escaped something.

Today, I was mostly worried about Cheryl. My big sister Cheryl. Growing up, she’d been bossy and rebellious, and could do absolutely no wrong in my eyes. She wore ripped T-shirts and denim jackets and spiked her hair and stayed out too late going to all-ages shows downtown, and every time she got in trouble felt to me like a blow for freedom.

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