Kitty’s Greatest Hits Read Online Free PDF

their eyes, tense and glaring like they were ready to rip his throat out. The guy ought to be scared.
    She had to swallow a couple of times before she could speak instead of growl.
    “You’re not going to do this anymore. You’re not going to get away with what you’ve already done.”
    After staring at her for a moment, he bit his lip and made a noise that almost sounded like a giggle.
    What had she thought he would do, put the knife down and his hands up and wait for the cops to get here?
    He stepped toward her, and Kitty braced to defend herself—kicking and scratching his eyes out if she had to. She wasn’t worried about the knife. It was stainless steel, not silver. He’d have to just about cut her head off before it would do real damage.
    Not that it wouldn’t hurt a whole lot in the meantime.
    David moved to intercept him. His shoulders were bunched up, like hackles raised, and his glare seemed to bore through the killer. In response, the man stumbled back, clutching the knife with both hands and pointing it defensively. The knife was shaking, just a little.
    Hell. Maybe she could just talk him out of it.
    “You’re going to put the knife down now,” Kitty said, her voice low, rough. “You’re not going to kill anyone else. We won’t let you.”
    Then, unbelievably, he started crying. Didn’t make a sound, but tears spilled from his eyes. Kitty thought, Something drove him to this. Something pushed him over the edge and he couldn’t cope, and he was psychotic enough to begin with that he did this. This was something else that could happen when you didn’t have a place to go home to at Christmas.
    Wolf didn’t have an ounce of sympathy for a predator who slaughtered for no reason, who didn’t recognize territory, who didn’t obey the rules. Wolf could spot the signs and see what was happening right before the killer tensed and raised his knife to attack. Shouting, he made a mad plunge for the door, ready to slash his way past her and David.
    She’d have let him go. They could call in an anonymous tip, let the cops go after him. They’d saved these people—wasn’t that enough?
    But David stopped him.
    She thought he was shifting, that he’d lost it and his predator had burst forth to meet this human predator in challenge. The killer lunged forward, ready to stab down and cut his way through to the door.
    David ducked and tackled him. Planted his shoulder under the guy’s ribs and shoved. Werewolves were stronger than people. David threw more power into the move than appeared possible. The killer swung sideways and banged into the flimsy plywood wall dividing the living room from the kitchen.
    David didn’t shape-shift. His wolf hadn’t taken over. He had used the wolf’s power and managed to stay in control, though he was breathing hard, and his teeth were bared.
    He didn’t let the killer recover. Pouncing, he pinned the guy to the floor, tossed the knife away, and leaned a rigid hand on his neck, pressing down with all his weight. The killer sputtered, gasping for air, thrashing, but he couldn’t escape David’s strength.
    So maybe he wasn’t entirely in control of himself.
    “David,” Kitty said. David flinched, startled, and glared at her, something amber and animal lurking in his eyes. He was barely under control. “Keep it together. You don’t have to kill. Just keep it together.”
    “Then what do we do?” His voice was a growl.
    “We’ll leave him for the cops.”
    Kitty waited until he nodded, until his muscles relaxed, until he stopped looking like a wolf in human skin, before she knelt by the victims. But when she approached them, they screamed around their gags.
    “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.