Kitty Raises Hell Read Free Page B

said. I kind of agreed with him.
    “Is there anything else we ought to be doing?” I asked.
    “The restraining order against our friend Nick and the Band is filed. There’s not much more we can do until something happens.
     Maybe this—this emotional harassment—is all there is.”
    “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
    Nick, a were-tiger, was the leader of the Band of Tiamat. He also led an animal and magic act in Las Vegas—only the animals
     were all feline lycanthropes. The whole act was a front for the Tiamat cult, and when they weren’t using the Babylonian-themed
     stage and sets in their show, they were using them to conduct sacrifices. Their preferred victims? Werewolves. Dogs and cats,
     at it again. Nick himself was certainly hot and sexy enough to front a Vegas show. He was also an evil son of a bitch. I got
     chills just thinking about him.
    Ben moved his arm over my shoulder, and I snuggled into his embrace. “I wish I could just go back there and . . . beat them
     up,” I said.
    “We’ve been over that. They didn’t manage to kill you last time. It’s best if we don’t give them a next time.”
    Especially since I wouldn’t have quite the same backup if I faced the Band of Tiamat again. Evan and Brenda, the rather uncomfortably
     amoral bounty hunters who’d saved my ass, had had to leave Vegas in a hurry to avoid awkward questions from the police. They
     couldn’t help me.
    And the one supernatural bounty hunter in the world I actually sort of trusted was still in jail.
    “Grant’s keeping an eye on things for us,” Ben continued. “If they do anything funny, we’ll know it.”
    Odysseus Grant was a stage magician in Las Vegas, a niche act who’d made his reputation with a retro show featuring old vaudeville
     props and reviving classic tricks that had gone out of fashion in the age of pyrotechnics and special effects. That was the
     public face, at least. I still didn’t entirely understand the persona underneath. He was a guardian of sorts, protecting humanity
     from the forces of chaos. It sounded so overwrought I hesitated to even think it. But, having encountered some of those forces
     firsthand, I was grateful for his presence.
    I had allies. I should have felt strong. I had a whole pack behind me, and a vampire, and a magician. The Band of Tiamat didn’t
     stand a chance against all that.
    It had to be enough for whatever they threw at us. It just had to be.

Chapter 2
    W hat did people ever do before the Internet? Could you really go to the library to find out that the hit TV show
Paradox PI
was coming to Denver to film a couple of episodes? Because the show’s producers certainly hadn’t chosen to let me know.
    I found this information after searching on Harry Houdini, trying to learn more about him. What I found, I liked. He traveled,
     did thousands of performances and demonstrations of stage magic and escapism. He loved debunking fakes. He claimed that he
     wanted to believe—he was desperate for proof that the mediums and séances he discredited could actually reach the “other side”
     and communicate with the dead. But every one he encountered used tricks and stagecraft. When Houdini was alive, the supernatural
     was still hidden. It kept to shadows and refused to draw back the curtains. I had a theory: You could tell who the real mediums
     and psychics were because they didn’t advertise, they didn’t brag, and they certainly weren’t going to look for attention
     from someone like Houdini. Ironically, in his search for the real deal, Houdini drove the real deal away, deeper into hiding.
     He’d have loved this day and age.
    As Professor Olafson had said, Houdini promised that if it was possible, he would deliver a message after his death. Despite
     hundreds of mediums and séances attempting to help him to do that, the world was still waiting.
    Paradox PI
did an entire episode on the search for Houdini’s message from beyond and didn’t find anything. Now they