Kitty and the Dead Man's Hand Read Online Free PDF Page A

means that I’m not your servant. The werewolves here are not at your beck and call. We’re not your messengers.”
    His voice was soft. “If you don’t want to do the favor, just say so.”
    “I’m happy doing it, I just want to know what it’s about.”
    He gave me this puckered expression, half amused, half annoyed. “You just don’t like not knowing everyone’s secrets.”
    “You read
Hamlet
? Or see it staged or something?”
    He looked away to mask a chuckle. “Once or twice.”
    “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern? A couple of dimwits who are given a message to deliver to England, asking the English king to execute Hamlet? And Hamlet switches the letter to one that says to execute them instead? And they deliver it blindly, because they’re idiots?”
    “And you’re bringing this up because. . .”
    “How do I know this isn’t a letter asking this Dom guy to take care of a little werewolf problem you have?”
    “Kitty, you’re being paranoid.”
    “Don’t tell me about being paranoid.” I really had had people out to kill me. That kind of thing left scars.
    “I’d have thought you trusted me more than that.”
    “Yeah. Well. I do. But I’m paranoid.” I gave him a toothy smile.
    “Fine.” He took the envelope out of my hand and tore off the end. He read the note in a rapid deadpan patter: “ ‘Dear Dom, I’m sure you’ve heard by now, but I thought I’d confirm the rumors personally. Denver has a new Master and it’s me. Surprise. By the way, this is Kitty, alpha female of the Denver werewolves and a friend of mine, so be nice to her, signed, Rick.’ There, that’s it.”
    A perfectly straightforward note, I had to admit. But these were vampires, so there was probably some secret code or veiled meaning that I wasn’t privy to. I glared. “Are you sure you can’t just e-mail him?”
    “You may need an ally in Vegas, and this is a formal introduction between you.”
    “I’m going to try to avoid any supernatural politics. This is a completely mundane, ordinary trip. I shouldn’t need any of that kind of help.”
    Rick hid his skepticism well. “Just in case. It won’t hurt you to meet him.”
    “You said he has some good stories. Did he know Frank Sinatra?”
    “I think he knew Elvis. And Bugsy Siegel.”
    I had to admit, that was pretty cool. “Fine. Okay. I’ll do it.”
    “Thank you,” he said, giving a genuine smile that made it hard to stay mad at him.
    “So, ah. Anything else? ’Cause I really have to get back to work.”
    He tapped the letter in his hand, and his grin showed fangs. “I’ll need a new envelope.”

Chapter 3
    F inally, we were on our way. Despite all my grousing, once we got on the plane, I was convinced this was the right thing to do. The radio show, visiting Rick’s vampire friend, all of it was perfect. This was an adventure. This was going to be awesome. Whether we would have any time on the trip to spend on a vacation was up for debate. Ben kept giving me dark looks. Going to Vegas was supposed to make everything easier. So much for that.
    We marched out of the baggage-claim area to go outside to find a cab. I could hear it now, my entrance music: a full Hollywood orchestra playing a zippy, peppy version of “Luck Be a Lady.” Frank Sinatra on my arm, smiling jauntily as we left the airport. . .
    Even in September, the heat outside the airport hit me like a brick wall.
    “Holy crap,” I said.
    “Just remember, this was your idea,” Ben said, squinting at the glare of sun on blacktop.
    “Was it? You sure it wasn’t yours?” The recording of “Luck Be a Lady” playing in my head sputtered and died.
    I’d never been to Las Vegas. I was interested in seeing how the reality measured up to the hype, propagated in countless TV shows, movies, and ads. Mostly what registered on the cab ride to the hotel was the heat. Baking, shimmering, blinding heat. It made the whole city seem like a mirage rising out of the desert. The air-conditioning