"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.
After all this time, something still bound us. Because of that, we couldn't tear each other apart like animals. The thought came to me, incongruous: I used to have sex with this man. I almost laughed. I couldn't remember what he tasted like.
"Stay back!" Ben shouted. I didn't look away from Carl, but in the corner of my vision I saw Ben move forward, holding a gun out and ready to fire. Carl's followers had spread out, arranging themselves in a line to move in on us—a wolf pack surrounding weak and injured prey. Ben halted their advance.
"You got silver?" one of them said.
"You bet your ass," Ben answered. "Now let these two have their little chat."
The wolves stayed back.
That left me and Carl to hash it out.
"What did you think you could do here?" I said.
"You invade my territory, I can do the same. I can tear you apart."
"The police are coming. They'll arrest you. It won't take them long to figure out what you did to Rick's people."
"That's none of their business." A tacit confession. He didn't even try to deny it, or pretend that he didn't know what I was talking about.
"You're a murderer! That is their business!"
He donned a thin smile. "You shouldn't have come back. You shouldn't have gotten involved."
"Yeah," I said. "Sucks to be me."
"Now, I attack you, and your boyfriend shoots me. Is that your plan?"
It would be so easy. End it—or at least this half of it—right here. Then Hardin would drive up, see Ben with a smoking gun, and throw him in jail. I didn't think I could handle that. Not again.
The plan was to hold Carl here long enough for Hardin to come get him. We'd come out of this with our hands clean.
"Only if he has to," I said.
"You should have quit when I told you to. None of this would have happened, not Washington, not this. The police shouldn't be involved in this—they wouldn't be, if you'd just shut up. If you'd done what I told you to, I would have kept you safe."
"Like you kept Jenny safe?"
Something changed in his expression. I'd managed to calm him—he'd stayed in one place, I'd kept him talking. But a rage burned in his eyes now. His skin flushed. The snarl returned.
"She left me."
"You should have let her go."
"She belonged to me—"
"She didn't belong to you! She didn't belong to anybody!"
Roaring, he lunged. Startled, I rushed backward, almost tripping on my own feet. He sparked the flight instinct—the two-legged, human version of it. I put up my arms to protect myself from the coming blow. Not very effective.
He grabbed my arm, swung me, and slammed me against the brick wall of the building. Stars burst in my head and my vision went dark for a second. Wolf sprang to life—run, claw, fight, rip, run—torn between fear and anger. I felt her in my bones.
"Kitty!" That was Ben. Don't shoot, I wanted to say, but couldn't. As soon as he turned from the henchmen to shoot Carl, they'd spring on him. He had to hold them back; he couldn't fight them all. Becky and Shaun didn't have guns, and I didn't think they could take them all on.
I couldn't speak, because Carl had his hands—thick, powerful hands—around my throat and had lifted. My feet kicked at air. Lungs fought for nonexistent breath. I gripped his wrist, dug in my nails, tried to pull his hand away, to flail at him, but he pinned me to the wall without effort. I couldn't even look at him. He forced my face up to a fading sky.
Just when I wanted to ask where the hell Hardin was, police sirens wailed. Tires squealed. Doors slammed. Impeccable timing.
No, not timing. Intent. She'd probably waited right around the corner, out of sight, until Carl did something that they could arrest him for. Get him for assault now, prove the warehouse murders later, after they already had him in custody. I thought I was using her for muscle, but she was using me for bait. Wonderful.