Kitty knocked on Sam’s door. When he didn’t answer immediately, she put her ear to the wood. Little rustles came from the other side. She knocked again. The rustling stopped. Either there was a very large mouse in there—and there were plenty of places for one to hide—or Sam was playing hard to get.
“I hear you in there,” she finally called.
“Yeah, I was getting to you. Come in.”
Kitty managed to crack the door about six inches and worm her way through the opening. A wad of clothes on the back side stopped the door in its swing and she kicked the ball out of the way. “This place is a mess, Sam. You need to clean it.”
“Sure. I’ll do it soon.” Sam’s backpack sat next to him on the floor, and he was busy putting a pile next to it—a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, his specimen box and some rocks.
“What are you doing, buddy?” Kitty sat on the edge of his bed. Is that what he would take if he were leaving with Kevin? How about more clothes? What about underwear? As if eleven-year-old boys changed their underwear.
“I’m going to spend the night at Eric’s house.” He added his baseball glove to the stack. He waved an empty hand at Kitty.
Kitty found the baseball next to her and handed it over. “When’s that?” That could be a take-to-a-friend’s-house pile.
“This weekend. Mom wouldn’t let me go on a school night.”
Besides being a school night, tomorrow was also the full moon. Kitty had a card in her back pocket when it came to that. Her mother—like Jenna’s Grandma Bell—never let either one of them out of the house on a full moon. So Sam wasn’t going anywhere for a few days. Kitty could lay down the law now. Her mother would cover tomorrow, then Kitty would take over until Kevin left town.
“About Uncle Kevin,” she started.
Sam kept arranging and rearranging his pile. “Yup?”
“He’s kind of shady. Not the guy you should be hanging out with. I know he seems nice, but we—both of us—need to stay away from him.”
Sam’s head tilted to the side, and his eyes looked at the ceiling. Kitty hated that face. It was Sam’s go-to face when he thought somebody was an idiot.
“I mean it.” Kitty crouched next to him, plopping a hand on his shoulder. “You do not see him anymore.”
Eyes still aimed at the ceiling, Sam said. “Okay.”
Kitty squinted at him. That was way too easy. “Eye contact, dude.” She jiggled his shoulder.
Lowering his eyes, Sam opened his lids wide, making his eyes pop out like a frog. “Can you see them now? I heard what you said.”
“This is really important, Sam. You have to stay home for a while.” She leaned in and hugged him, hard and fast.
Sam twisted away. “Gross. I’m only going to Eric’s house.” He stood up and gathered the wad of clothes Kitty had kicked, standing up with the pile in his arms.
“Good. Remember your toothbrush this time. Your teeth are going to fall out.”
Sam grinned. “I know.” He held out his arms. “Can you throw these in the laundry basket for me?”
Kitty wrapped her arms around the dirty clothes. Talk about nasty. Some of them were crusty. Sam pulled the door open for her, closing it once she left. Kitty eyed the barrier, unsure how she felt about the conversation. But really between her mother and her, where was he going to go?
Kitty walked into her parents’ room and dropped the dirty clothes into their hamper. Grabbing her mother’s purse from the nightstand, she thumbed through the contents until she found Anne’s date book. Her mother always kept it open to the current page; a binder clip at the top kept it from flipping shut. “Sam to Eric’s” was written on Friday night. Three whole—three safe—nights from the dark circle of the full moon on Tuesday’s date. She shoved it back into the purse.
Pushing a hand into the gap between the floor and the nightstand, her fingers brushed against the thin binding of Dracula, and she caught it and brought it out. When she fluttered the pages, the book gapped in four places—all the photos still inside. She would find her uncle tomorrow and a little extra persuasion never hurt. She selected the family photo and the one of Kevin and Phinney and slipped them into her back pocket before replacing the book.
One warning down, one plea to go.
****
Kevin had a quarter-folded newspaper next to his coffee cup and a teeny pencil in his hand. In the warm May weather, he’d actually taken his coat off and was down to a long-sleeved T-shirt. He waved her into the booth seat across from him. “What’s a six letter word for a person with dangerous neuroses?”
“Uncle,” Kitty said.
Kevin counted on his fingers. “Wrong. That’s only five.” He counted again. “I’d try niece but that’s only five too. Besides, it starts with a P.”
Kitty calculated for a minute, squinting one eye half shut in concentration. “Psycho,” she finally said. “Which is pretty darn handy since that’s what I came here to discuss.”
“You’re having problems with psychos, or you are one?” Kevin scribbled in the blank boxes in front of him. “How about this one? Tonto’s horse.” He clucked in disbelief. “Who writes these?”
“Not psychos with an S. Only one,” Kitty said. “Your advance man. He shredded a dog,” she shuddered at the memory, “and left it on my front steps.”
Kevin blinked slowly a few times as he processed the information. “That’s not in his job description.”
Kitty sighed. Somehow she didn’t think Kevin kept up with yearly evaluations. “I’m just letting you know he’s insane. You shouldn’t trust him.”
A can of soda plunked down on the table in front of her, and Kitty smiled up at the counter guy. “Thanks.”
“Anything to eat?”
Kitty shook her head. She waited until he disappeared behind the door to the kitchen, then directed her attention across the table. “You cannot take Sam. You need to clear out.”
Kevin didn’t answer. Instead he shoved the sleeve of his T-shirt up and lay his arm down on the table. A rapid-fire thready pulse rippled under the skin of his forearm. Kitty closed her eyes for a second to regroup. She’d seen that pulse in Phinney’s arm when he’d been infected. It was hideous—a worm sucking the life out of her uncle, and Kitty wanted to run. No doubt Kevin thought she would.
Under the tabletop, she ran one hand down her shin. That had very nearly been her. Her error in the woods had been a split second of stupidity. Kevin’s error—if she could even call it that—had been saving Joe’s dad.
She opened her eyes and took a deep breath.
“This infection is not you.” She reached out and closed her fingers over his arm. Kevin’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch and he jerked as if her touch stung. The rippling beat moved under her fingertips and Kitty wanted to wipe her hands on her jeans in disgust. She clamped down and hung on tighter.
Whatever he thought she’d say or do, that wasn’t it. He stared down at his arm.
Kitty dug in her pocket with her free hand. She spread the two photos out on the counter in front of Kevin, and his eyes moved to study them.
“Come to dinner,” she said suddenly. That was going to go over great. Dad, you remember your long-lost brother. Mom, this is the guy who probably had a crush on you. At least she wouldn’t have to smooth it over with Sam. He’d be ecstatic, which was the point. He’d drag Kevin from one end of the house to the other, introducing him to Maddie, showing him his favorite rocks, probably hauling out the hammer to bash that geode. Kevin would see Sam in his element…and realize taking him out of it was a sin.
“Sam already….” Kitty considered the word to fill in the blank. As much as she hated it, there was only one choice. “Sam already loves you. Dad keeps all your pictures.” Kitty poked at the ones on the table, and her words tumbled out faster. “I think he misses you.”
Kevin finally met her eyes. “You seem to be laboring under the delusion that somewhere underneath this—” his gesture took in all of it—Thompson’s Army jacket, the grease-stained pants, the ripped nails, “there is a good man.” He shook his head. “There isn’t. I’m not the kind you bring home to dinner.”
“No.” Kitty said. “You are.” Her grip tightened on his arm. She wished she could squeeze hard enough to cut off the flow of oxygen to the feral beat under her fingers. “Why did Phinney let you leave?” She had no idea why he had, and truthfully she wished he hadn’t. But speaking the question aloud made her wonder again.
Kevin picked up the photo of him and Phinney, studying it before flipping it face down. His gaze drifted off to the street—the mangy cat was back—and he laughed a little. “Because he was weak.”
“No, he was strong. The fact is, Phinney loved you.” Kitty pushed forward into the table. She hadn’t seen it before, but now…. “After twenty years, he still mentioned your name.”
Kevin took a swig from his coffee. “Which is why he was weak. He should have just ended it that night. Instead, he condemned me to this.” He pulled the sleeve of his T-shirt down and gave the cloth a savage twist, closing the pulse up inside.
“He saw something in you,” Kitty said. She knew Phinney wouldn’t let Kevin go unless he had a reason. “I can’t tell you what, but he saw something—down at your core—that made him let you go. Choose that part now. Let Sam go.”
“You don’t get it. That part, that human part, is the part that wants the kid. I’m sick of being alone.”
Sam? A werewolf? Kitty swallowed back the bile rising to her mouth. She cleared her throat. “You have it inside you to do the right thing. Phinney would never have let you run otherwise. You could have killed me and you didn’t.”
“Kitty,” he said, using her nickname for the first time. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you that. I knew you’d misinterpret. He prodded at his arm. “I am this.”
“I refuse to believe that. For one thing, you’re here talking to me again.” Kitty studied her uncle’s familiar features.
“I’m trying to warn you.” Kevin’s face softened and the mocking smile he normally wore fell away. “It’s not a choice. It’s like the tide when it comes—unstoppable. You still don’t get it. You and I are the same person. I’ve walked your road before. You will lose.”
“No, I won’t. Because I’m good at what I do. I will stop you if I have to.”
He laughed. “Don’t you think I was good too? You know what’ll take you down? The same thing that did me. The fact that you care. If I hadn’t given a shit about my Joe, if I’d let him blunder around out there while I stayed with Phinney, this would be a different conversation.” His face grew serious. “My Joe was dead by the time I found him. If I’d concentrated on me—”
“You saved his little brother.”
Kevin shook his head. “Yeah, and he grew up to have a son, your boyfriend. What did I get? I got distracted and I got infected. You watch. Your love for somebody is what’ll take you out, too.”
Kitty stared at him, trying not to cry. She didn’t want to win this one. Kevin was wrong. If only he would run. He didn’t understand that at the terminus, Kitty would end it.
Kevin reached out and took her hand, folding it between his. He placed it down on her side of the table, giving it a final pat. “I’m sorry. If you think you’re going to save me, or Sam, you’re wrong. Go home. Spend some time with your little brother. There’s not much time left.”