Kitty's Big Trouble

“That seems too easy,” she said.

“Sometimes you just have to lay out what you really want,” he said.

“So what,” Grace said. “We go pick it up?”

“I doubt it,” he said. He began scuffing out the chalk marks with his shoe, erasing the circle and then the drawing, until the whole area was a vague red smudge.

She looked confused, and I explained. “We still don’t know who took the thing from the safe in the first place. I assume we’re going to have to take it back from them.”

Anastasia hadn’t spoken through the whole spell casting. The other vampires seemed interested and amused, as if we were entertaining them.

“We’ll have to move slow,” Cormac said. “Scout ahead and check it out before we go in. Make sure this is even right.”

That was Cormac. The hunter was back in charge. Grudgingly, I had to admit that they made a pretty good team, however weird I thought the arrangement.

“Part of the tunnel system goes there,” Grace said. “We should be able to get to it, no problem.”

“This time we stick together,” Cormac said. “Nobody gets lost.”

“That’s going to depend on what we find,” Grace said.

I turned to the vampires. “Anastasia?”

“I think it’s a trap,” she said.

“Just like last time,” I said cheerfully. “Shall we get moving and get this over with?”

Anastasia turned toward the door. “Yes.”

“Just like that?” Boss said after her. “You’re not going to ask me for help? For an army?”

“As if you would give it.”

Boss turned to his right. “Henry? You want to go with them?”

“Sure,” the vampire said, shrugging.

“Ah, so now you’re sending a spy,” Anastasia said, glaring at Boss, sneering at Henry, who actually wilted a bit.

“Yeah. But you don’t have anything to hide and he might really be able to help,” Boss said.

They couldn’t do a damned thing without arguing. I said, “Do vampires ever just help anybody out of the goodness of their hearts?”

“Didn’t you know, we don’t have hearts,” Boss said, and he and his minions laughed.

Cormac looked at me. “I hate vampires.”

“Yeah,” I muttered.

Boss shrugged. “If you don’t want Henry along, just say so and you can go on your merry way.”

“He can come,” I said before Anastasia could pitch a fit about it. “Thanks for the offer. I’m sure we can use all the help we can get.”

Boss inclined his head, the hint of a bow, and Henry winked at me.

Anastasia pursed her lips. “Fine. But you’ll listen to me.” She pointed at Henry.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

Boss sighed and shook his head. “I bet we can even find a shirt for Mr. Kitty here. You see how helpful we are?”

“Mr. Kitty?” Ben said, eyebrows raised.

“I may have to borrow that one,” Cormac said, smirking.

“Don’t even think about it,” his cousin said.

I butted in. “A shirt would be great.” We could argue about name calling later, though I had to admit I was hating Ben’s reaction. Seriously?

Henry went to fetch a shirt.

“Well,” Anastasia said to Boss. “At least you’ll learn how it all turns out.”

“It’s my city, after all,” he said.

“You never did thank me for that.”

“Is that all you really want?” he said. “Well then, Anastasia dear, thank you for helping me win San Francisco.”

She rolled her eyes and scowled. “Too late.”

“Oh, Anastasia, it’s never too late. We have all the time in the world.”

Of course they did.

Chapter 13

THE SPOT BURNED into the map was back in Chinatown, not far from where we’d originally met Anastasia. If the Dragon’s Pearl had up and wandered away, it hadn’t gone far. At least, not far in linear distance. What we couldn’t tell was if the pearl was accessible, resting on a shelf in a back room at street level, or if it was hidden in one of the winding tunnels that Grace and her strange key had access to. If that was the case, I couldn’t quite trust the spot on the map.

Henry borrowed the car and driver to take us that far. We crammed in and rode in silence until we reached the corner that Grace picked for us to begin quest part two—Stockton Street this time, a block over from Grant, and the not-as-touristy section of Chinatown. The traffic lights hanging above the narrow intersection glowed red, but there were no cars in sight. Old brick and concrete facades stood around us like sentinels, watching, waiting to pounce.

Ben had acquired one of Henry’s Havana shirts, red with cream embroidery. He was fidgeting in it; it wasn’t a good look for him. I’d rather have seen him in a retro suit with suspenders, maybe a fedora. But hipster it was.

“What do you suppose he’ll do if I manage to get this one all bloody?” he said.

“Thank you?” I answered, and he grumbled.

The air had turned cold—winter cold, it felt to my Colorado bones. The damp in the air made the temperature clammy, insidious. I shivered; Ben put his arm around me, and I huddled close.

Grace and Cormac consulted the map.

“I just pointed the way,” Cormac was saying. “This is your show now.”

“If this is a trap, it’ll get us as soon as we head underground,” she said.

“Do we have a choice?” Cormac said.

Anastasia glared at them. “Just find me the pearl—I’ll worry about the trap.”

Grace shot back, “If I’m supposed to be in the lead I’m damn well going to worry about a trap.”

“Just go,” the vampire said.

We started walking. Grace had the map now and kept glancing at it, then at the buildings. She turned a corner, and another, and into an alley, where a set of stairs led down to a basement door. Here we go again.

“I have to admit, I’m missing my nine mil right about now,” Cormac muttered.

“Not that it would do you any good against vampires,” Ben said. “Or in the tunnels.”

“No. But sometimes I just want to hear something go bang.”

Henry acted like he was on a tour, hands in pockets, strolling along looking at all the interesting buildings. “I’m not sensing any trouble. Everything seems normal to me.”

I wasn’t sure I’d recognize normal any more if it bit me in the ass.

“Where are we going?” Anastasia asked.

“This is the spot on the map, at the mouth of the alley,” Grace said. “But there’s nothing here, so we have to go underground.”

“There’s not much underground here, is there?” Henry said. “The tunnel system’s an urban legend. The real tunnels were all destroyed in the earthquake back in ’06. The previous ’06, I mean.”

“I don’t care how long you’ve been here, how long you’ve been alive, you don’t know Chinatown,” Grace said. She glanced back at Anastasia. “None of you do.”

“I’ve known Chinatown for a hundred and fifty years,” Anastasia said.

“But it’s not the same. You act like China hasn’t changed in eight hundred years. All you know is what you