Kitty Goes to Washington (Kitty Norville 2) - Page 95

“It’s over,” she said. And it was. She straightened, pulling away from me. I didn’t know where I’d been, but suddenly I was back in the closet under Alette’s stairs, in the dark, wrapped in a trenchcoat. “Are you all right?”

“Um, yeah. I mean, I think . . . wow.” It made sense, really. All part of that vampire seduction gambit: lure the prey to you, give it a reason to open its veins. Sure cut down on that messy struggling. “Just so you know, I’m straight. Totally straight. As an arrow.”

Her voice held a smile. “So am I.”

I smelled a touch of blood on her breath. My blood.

She no longer sounded tired, defeated, like she had a moment ago. She sat straight without effort, and the glint in her eye had returned. She seemed ready for battle.

Two sets of footsteps pounded across the foyer, right outside our hiding place. Alette looked out at the sound, frowning. Then, she pushed at the door.

“No—” I grabbed for her but missed. She slipped through the opening before I could reach her.

What could I do but follow?

Outside, in the foyer, she stood tall on her injured feet—except they didn’t seem quite as injured. The redness seemed to have faded, just as her face now seemed flushed and lively.

Before her, two black-clad soldiers held handguns pointed at her. They clutched the guns in two-handed grips, straight-armed, sighting down the barrels.

“You don’t want to do that,” Alette said, her voice like honey, music, seduction, passion, all together. “You’d like to put your weapons down now.”

Calmly, she looked back and forth between them. I couldn’t see Alette’s eyes at this moment. I didn’t want to—her gaze focused intently on the soldiers. The men didn’t shoot, they didn’t say anything. One of them—his arms were trembling, causing the gun to waver.

“I know you’re both reasonable gentlemen. You deserve a rest. You’re very calm. Very quiet. That’s right.”

They both lowered their arms slowly, hypnotically, until they were hanging loose at their sides. After that, they didn’t twitch a muscle. They didn’t shiver, they didn’t blink. They stood like statues, caught in Alette’s gaze. Their breathing was slow and rhythmic, as if they slept, but their eyes were open. One of the guys’ jaw hung open a little. He wasn’t quite drooling.

Alette pulled the guns out of their hands and gingerly put the weapons in the closet. She closed the door. She left the soldiers standing motionless in the foyer.

How did vampires do that?

I crept past them, hardly believing they wouldn’t reach out to grab me.

She went to the back of the foyer, to the hallway that led to the kitchen. “Leo will be downstairs by this hour.”

Her gaze narrowed. The hunter had found her trail.

She walked confidently down the hallway, which opened to a modern, impressively furnished kitchen—stainless-steel counters, pots hanging ab

ove an island workstation. It seemed to be equipped to prepare and serve state dinners. Who was I to say it hadn’t? Alette passed it all by, heading for a door on the far side, by the fridge.

She paused, hand on the doorknob, tilting her head to listen. So, that was the door to the basement, where the vampires spent their days in darkness and safety. Leo might be stretching out for a nap, thinking he was safe.

Or he might have been waiting for us, armed with machine guns.

“Alette, this isn’t—”

She opened the door.

Common sense didn’t play any part in her current motivation. Revenge probably had a big part in it, along with a liberal dose of blind rage. She didn’t wait to see if I’d follow or not.

I followed.

The glow of soft lighting cast an aura up the carpeted stairs. Soundlessly, Alette stepped down.

The basement room was as Victorian in decoration as the rest of the house. Brocade wallpaper, plush carpet, antique lamps. It was a bedroom. No coffins, but a king-sized four-poster bed sat in the back, along with dressers and wardrobes, and a vanity table without the mirror.

Leo sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over the body of a young woman. Her brown hair lay loose over her shoulders, and her hands were folded over her stomach. She wore a college logo sweatshirt and faded jeans.

Tags: Carrie Vaughn Kitty Norville Fantasy
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