Kitty Rocks the House - By Carrie Vaughn Page 0,37

tell you everything. I’m not even thinking straight right now.” Ben and I were still dressed in our post–full moon finery, jeans and T-shirts, our rattiest sneakers without socks. My unbrushed hair was crammed into a wild-looking ponytail; Ben needed a shave. Surely she could see we weren’t at our best.

She said to Ben, “You’re the lawyer, can you talk some sense into her?”

“I agree with her,” Ben said, offhand. “I think you’re in over your head.”

She studied us, not afraid to meet our gazes—she had enough experience with us to know it meant a challenge. “I’ll be in touch,” she said finally and walked out of the emergency room into the midmorning light.

Ben and I took up places in the waiting room on hard plastic chairs as far away from everyone else as we could get. I leaned on his shoulder, and he put his arm around me, and even though we were in a hospital emergency room, it was nice getting to rest for a moment. We waited until the doctors turned Cormac loose with a big orange bottle of pills and a blue ice pack. His arm was in a sling, encased in an off-white fiberglass cast that went past his elbow. I couldn’t tell if he was in any pain. He had a serious, stoic expression, same as always.

Ben took the pills and ice packs from the nurse, and that Cormac didn’t argue about the help told me something about his state of mind.

“Where’d you leave your Jeep?” Ben asked.

“By the church,” he answered.

“Right. Kitty, if you drop me off I can pick it up before it gets towed, and meet you back at the condo.”

“You can just take me home,” Cormac said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Nope,” Ben said. “I’m not leaving you alone with a broken arm and a bottle of codeine.”

“I’ll be fine.”

But he couldn’t do a thing about it. He only had one arm, and whatever they’d doped him up with to set the break left him shockingly docile as we guided him to the backseat of the sedan and strapped him in.

“Give it up,” I said, smiling at him where he sprawled out in the backseat. “You’ve got family, might as well enjoy it.”

He grumbled, but he stopped arguing. By the time we all got back to the condo, he was asleep, and we had to wake him up to get him upstairs. Once inside, he parked himself on the sofa and promptly fell asleep again.

We let him alone.

* * *

IT WAS a little like having a bear in the living room.

The following morning, I ate toast and juice at the kitchen table, watching him, waiting for something to happen. In the painkiller fog, did he remember us bringing him here? How pissed off was he going to be when he woke up?

Ben emerged from the bedroom. “He still asleep?” he whispered.

“Yup,” I whispered back.

Ben joined me at the table, where we both sat staring at him.

“This is a territory thing,” I observed. I joked that Cormac was part of our pack, but he wasn’t wolf. He was sleeping in our den. He’d been to our place before, but he’d never slept over.

We watched him. He snored, faintly.

Ben said, “We really need to work on getting a house sooner rather than later.”

“A house with a guest room,” I said.

“Exactly.” Ben stood. “I’m going to make some coffee.”

“Think that’ll wake him up?”

“Dunno. I just need coffee.”

The smell hit the condo’s open living room as soon as the brew started dripping. Not much longer after that, Cormac squirmed and groaned. He tried to sit up, but his stiff muscles didn’t cooperate.

For a moment he lay still, blinked at the ceiling. Then he looked at his arm. “Fuck.”

“How you feel?” Ben asked.

“Stupid,” Cormac said. “Thirsty?” He sounded uncertain.

“Does it hurt? You want some of that medication?” I asked.

He thought about it. “Yeah, I’d better.”

Which surprised me. I expected him to tough it out, broken bone or no. Cormac-in-pain was an entirely new phenomenon. While I fetched a glass of water and the bottle of pills, Cormac managed to haul himself off the sofa and head to the bathroom. I didn’t bother offering to help; neither did Ben. He’d only snarl back. If he collapsed, then we could help. But he managed, somehow, and stumbled back to the sofa where he returned to horizontal and sighed.

I dragged a chair to the sofa to play nurse. Ben brought over another chair, his cup of coffee, and a second