Kitty's House of Horrors (kn-7) by Carrie Vaughn (christmas read aloud txt) 📕

wanted to know if this is the Anastasia who’s medium height, Chinese, with a sense of humor.”

“Yeah, that’s her,” I said.

“Then he knows her. Met her a hundred or so years ago in San Francisco—and can I just mention how surreal it is talking to Rick about this sort of thing?”

“What does he know about her?” This was the jackpot. I hadn’t expected Rick to know Anastasia; I’d been grasping, throwing the name out there hoping he’d have some inkling of her reputation. It turned out vampires moved in a very small world indeed.

“She was the lieutenant of the Master of San Francisco. Sometime in the 1920s, a new Master took over and Anastasia vanished. Rick said he was never sure if she left to save her own skin—or if she’d colluded with the new Master by betraying the old. Since then, he’s caught a rumor of her every decade or so. She tends to keep her head down. He was surprised to hear about her being part of this show. He’s not sure what her game is or where her loyalties are. He says he likes her but doesn’t trust her.”

So much for my paranoia being all in my head. The slice of vampire soap opera didn’t help me much—I’d have preferred a definite “friend” or “enemy” stamp to put on her. Even Rick telling me to get the hell away from her would have been some help.

“Great. Now what?”

“I don’t know. Just keep on sticking it out. Though Rick did say he’d be interested in any good gossip you could pass along.”

“I’m sure he would be. It’ll have to wait until I’ve figured out what’s going on here.”

Ben let out a long-suffering breath in preparation for a speech. It was kind of cute—we’d been married a year, and I could already tell his mood by the sound of his breathing.

“Kitty, have you considered that maybe nothing’s going on? That maybe the whole reality show setup has you paranoid because you’re expecting there to be a plot? Maybe they’re having you on.”

I rubbed my face. All this conspiracy was making me tired. “I hope you’re right.”

He hesitated, then said, “Okay. Now I’m worried. You’re supposed to argue with me.”

I chuckled. I didn’t want to argue. “The thing is, Tina’s really anxious, and she usually knows what she’s talking about.”

“All you can do is keep your eyes open. Kitty, I have to get going. I have to be in Cañon City this afternoon.”

Cormac’s hearing was in the morning. I said, “That’s way more important than my little issues. Break a leg.”

“I’m not sure that’s appropriate here, but thanks. And you be careful.”

“Ha—so you do think something weird’s going on.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Kitty,” he said, still in the long-suffering voice.

Another day in the funhouse began. My project before lunch was to corner Grant and talk to him about Tina. Jeffrey cornered me first, when I was in the middle of a cup of coffee.

“Kitty, can we talk?”

Oh, why me? I’m a werewolf. I was supposed to be a scary monster, not everyone’s favorite confidante.

“Yeah, sure,” I said with a sigh. We settled on one of the sofas and leaned in close.

“I’m worried about Tina,” he said.

“Me, too,” I said. “She came and talked to me last night.”

“Whatever’s going on here, it’s affecting her deeply. I think hypnotizing her may have made it worse. I think Grant may have opened her up to something dangerous.”

“Jeffrey. What exactly do you think is going on?”

“I don’t know,” he said, looking forlorn, as sad as I’d ever seen him. “Everyone’s nervous, even the crew. But I can’t tell if they’re nervous because they know something, or because they’re sharing a house with werewolves and vampires.”

“Here’s the problem,” I said. “Everyone’s convinced something freaky is going on, but nobody knows what. Maybe it’s psychosomatic, maybe it’s all in our heads. We’re letting the atmosphere get to us. But if there is something, we need to brainstorm. Is the place haunted? Is the whole show a conspiracy? If so, why? For what purpose? And who here is in on it?”

He shook his head. For all his talent, empathy, and insight, this was outside his experience. “I couldn’t even begin to guess what it means. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

You’d think if we all pooled our experience, we could come up with something. I couldn’t imagine a more qualified bunch of people to deal with any problem involving the supernatural. Excepting Conrad, of course.

I said, “Can I just say that I think it’s really cute that you’re so worried about Tina?”

That got him to blush. Ducking his gaze, he donned a wide, goofy smile. “She’s pretty special.”

I patted his arm. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.”

Tina came downstairs then, and Jeffrey was at her side in a moment, walking with her to the kitchen and asking if she wanted coffee. They looked like a couple of teenagers.

Maybe we should just chuck the whole freaking-out-Conrad storyline and call the show Real World: Supernatural Edition.

Today was picnic-by-the-lake day. We had more beautiful weather, blue sky and blazing sun. We had a lovely spot, a narrow beach of smooth gravel near a well-kept wooden dock suitable for parking canoes and jumping off of to swim. With the meadow and mountains as a backdrop, the scene was postcard picturesque and would play very well on television. The half dozen of us who took part had spread blankets on the ground and happily munched on another great catered meal.

Tina and Jeffrey sat on the dock, the cuffs of their jeans rolled up, dangling their feet in the water. Ariel stood at the end of the dock in a cute bikini, black with white polka dots, an ensemble that was no doubt making Provost back in the production room very happy. Lee was already swimming—fully human—and trying to get her to join him.

“But it’s really cold!” she complained after dipping in just a toe.

“It’s great.