"No, no, I'm not going to hurt you," Kitty murmured. Once again, she wondered what she and David looked like from the outside. Were their eyes glowing or something? Maybe they were. Her senses were on a trip wire.
She moved slowly, and the husband let her work off the gag and the cords on his wrists. "Do you have rope or duct tape or something?" she asked.
He nodded quickly. "Kitchen. By the sink. " Then, just like the killer had, he asked, "What are you?"
That question again. And those wide, fearful eyes.
"Doesn't matter," she said. She went to the kitchen and found a length of clothesline in the drawer by the sink.
Kitty helped David tie up the killer. They probably tied him much tighter than he needed to be. But she didn't want to take chances.
"I don't want to have to answer questions for the cops," David said.
"That's okay," Kitty said. "I don't think we should stick around. " She turned to the couple, who were now free of their cords. "Call 911. Get help. "
"Thank you," the man said breathlessly. "Thank you, thank you - "
"Thank us by not telling the cops about us. Okay? The guy got sloppy. You did this yourselves. Okay?"
&nbs
p; Both of them nodded frantically. They kept looking at the bound killer like they expected him to attack. But he lay limp, staring unblinkingly at nothing. He whined with every breath. Like a hurt wolf.
In a moment, the man was talking on the phone, and Kitty and David stood by the door. She had a weird urge to say, "Merry Christmas," or something before they left. The woman was looking back at her, cradling her torn and bloody arms in her lap, gasping for breath. But smiling. Just a little.
Kitty smiled back, then pulled David out the door with her.
They trudged back to town, led by the sounds of cars on the freeway and the faint glow of lights through the misty air. Snow was falling picturesquely. Her feet, and the rest of her, were soaking wet. David was using the snow to wash blood off his hands.
He looked at her. "Why the hell are you smiling?"
Kitty was grinning so hard she thought her face would break.
"Why am I smiling? Because we totally saved those people. We're werewolf superheroes! We're Batman and Robin! That's so awesome!"
Then again, that might have been the adrenaline talking.
Almost, David wanted to howl at the night sky, in joy and triumph. He'd almost shifted. He'd almost gone over the edge. Attacking that guy had come instinctively. It had been like hunting. But he came back from the edge. With Kitty's help, he pulled himself back and stayed human. And that felt powerful.
The glaring yellow sign of the Waffle House shone like a beacon over the snow-covered prairie. Like the Star of Bethlehem over the manger. David felt a surge of relief when he and Kitty came back in sight of it. Civilization. A roof and hot coffee. Glorious.
No telling how much time had passed since they left. They crept in through the still unlocked kitchen door. The cook was gone. Both of them were soaking wet from running in the snow. At least it made the blood he'd gotten on him less noticeable. Almost, he could think about the blood without wanting to turn wolf.
Kitty rubbed her arms and shook out her shirt, squeezing water out of the hem. "Not the smartest thing I've done recently," she muttered. "The one time I didn't bring a change of clothes . . . "
David resisted an urge to reach out and hug her. From affection. From happiness. How long had it been since he'd been happy? Despite the adventure, the running, tracking the killer, and the violence of what he'd witnessed, the urge to turn wolf had faded, a whisper rather than overwhelming thunder. He'd taken a step toward asserting his dominance over that part of his being. The world looked brighter because of that.
Jane, the waitress, came in. "There you are. I thought maybe you'd ducked out on me, but your coat and bag are still here, and you weren't in the bathroom. I was starting to worry . . . " She narrowed her gaze. "What are you two doing back here?"
David opened his mouth but couldn't think of what to say. It was Kitty who announced cheerfully, "Oh, you know. Looking for mistletoe. "
He blushed, which must have lent some truth to her excuse, because Jane quirked a smile and left again.
"Sorry," Kitty said. "But people tend not to ask more questions if you tell them you've been fooling around. "
He wanted to burst out laughing. "Does this sort of thing happen to you a lot?"
"You'd be surprised. "