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

until it was a blurred, formless mess. The mirror was bright and clear.

“I’m done with it,” he said, nodding at the body. “We should put it with the others.”

Or drop it in the lake. But that would feel like poisoning the lake.

“I think I need to take a shower,” Tina said.

Nobody moved except Grant, who was packing items back in his case. The magician finishing his work. And I didn’t know why anything Grant did surprised me anymore.

“That was sick,” Lee said, harsh, frowning.

Grant stood, glared. “What that man did to Ariel, Jerome, Dorian, and the production assistants was sick. He and the others did what they did for sport. I do it out of necessity. And I don’t do it lightly.”

Cormac would have understood. Cormac would have approved, so I couldn’t argue.

Grant paused in front of me. I’d been staring at the body, and I turned to him reluctantly. “You look like you want to say something.”

I shook my head. “I don’t have anything to say.”

His expression didn’t change. It hardly ever did. But he put his hand on my shoulder, a brief touch, a faint comfort.

Anastasia was the one to finally ask, “What did you learn?”

“They’re still filming us,” he said. “They’re planning on selling the footage as proof that monsters can be killed. That they ought to be killed.”

“A snuff film?” I said, astounded.

Grant nodded. “Provost and Cabe are his partners. They’re out there now. I saw two bases of operation, one near the lodge and one near the outgoing trail. They attacked Jerome and Kitty from that one. They have us trapped, and they have all the time in the world.”

“Then we go after them,” Lee said. “We know where they are now, we go get them, then get the hell out of here.”

“They have weapons,” Anastasia said. “They’re entrenched. We’re too vulnerable. That’s exactly how they planned it.”

“So we flush them out,” I said, because that was what Cormac would say and how he’d have handled this. He sure as hell wouldn’t sit here waiting for the bad guys to come to us. Get the upper hand. Startle them.

“How do we do that?” Lee said, anxious, frustrated. Sweat shone on his brow, and the ocean smell of him was stronger.

I picked up the walkie-talkie from the pile of Valenti’s leavings, switched it on, and pressed talk. Everyone in the room cringed or lurched, making various noises of protest—what the hell was I doing?

Poking the wasp nest. I was good at that sort of thing.

“Hell-lo-ooooo,” I said, singsong, into the speaker. Moving to the front door, I cracked it, turning my ear to the great outdoors to hear what I could. I let my finger off the button and waited, listening through the static hiss for something more meaningful. And waited. My heart was thumping hard, but I didn’t let on. I was in the middle of a practical joke, and I was determined to find this little piece of it funny. I grinned while the others watched, horrified. Except for Grant, who smiled, just a little.

Then the static clicked and shifted, and words came through. “Hello? Valenti?”

And that was Joey Provost’s voice, with the show business veneer rubbed off. What was left was backstabbing manipulator. Such a fine line between the two. I didn’t hear anything outside; he wasn’t close, which was something.

“’Fraid not. It’s Kitty Norville. Thanks for calling The Midnight Hour. Do you have a problem you’d like to talk about?”

I waited through another few moments of poignant static before hearing, “Where’s Valenti?”

“Ooh, that’s a really tough question. How religiously inclined are you?”

“Bitch,” he hissed.

“I love it when people call me that, it’s so meta. Just tell me one thing—what made you think you could get away with this? Get away with murder?”

He didn’t answer. I waited, listening through static for a long time. For all I knew, he’d shut his device off. I’d hoped Provost would be stupider than that. I’d hoped he’d have to talk, then give something away, like an undefended location. I threw the walkie-talkie down. Which Cormac probably wouldn’t have done.

“Consider them flushed,” I said.

“Then we have the offensive, at least for a little while,” Anastasia said. “What do you think they’ll do?”

I took a deep breath. Took a flyer. “I think they’ll come here. They’ll want to find out what happened to Valenti, and then they’ll want to take us down fast. They may not bother with the horror show anymore.”

“Agreed,” Grant said. “Then we should move fast. Get out there and find their hunting blinds. Clear them out, leave them without equipment. Then we go back to our original plan to get out and call the police.”

“It’ll be dawn soon,” Gemma said. She sounded small, like a scared kid. Did Valenti and his crew even think of her as a kid? Or just as a monster?

Anastasia said, “We have a few hours. We’ll be fine, Gemma.” An unspoken trust me finished the sentence. Gemma pretty much had to trust her, didn’t she?

“Lee, you’re a hunter. You can use this?” Grant handed him Valenti’s sniper rifle. He took it, and he smiled a little. A fire lit his eyes.

“Did your voodoo magic show tell you where these blinds are?” I said to Grant. “Exactly where?”

He didn’t answer right away, but Tina said, “I saw them. We both did.” Jeffrey nodded.

Grant’s lips thinned to a line. “I was hoping you had.”

We broke into teams. Lee, Tina, and I would go after the blind by the outgoing trail. Tina would help guide us, based on the images Grant had produced. After destroying what we could of the blind and the weapons we assumed we’d find there, we’d continue on to get help. If we encountered more silver-tainted barriers, like the razor wire, Tina could help clear the way. If need be, I could run ahead while Tina and Lee waited. Jeffrey, Anastasia, and Gemma would look for the blind closer to the lodge. Anastasia took the handgun so both