Kitty's Big Trouble

touched their arms, as much for my comfort as for theirs.

Anastasia lunged toward Sun, hand outstretched and pointed as if dispensing a curse. He stood his ground.

“How old are you?” Anastasia said to him.

“Really old,” he said. She stared, but her vampiric gaze had no effect against him. “Older than you, even.”

“All right,” I said, turning on them. “What the hell are you? You’re not a vampire. What else is that old?”

“Yeah, that’s the question, isn’t it?” he said, his smile growing broad. Still smiling despite everything. Made me want to either punch the guy, or laugh.

Anastasia backed away, suddenly fearful. I’d seen that expression on her before—when we’d seen the nine- tailed fox in the cage.

While Anastasia showed fear when regarding Sun, Grace showed wonder. Maybe even a little hope. “Sun Wukong.”

He lifted the staff, twirled it once, and gave a playful bow. He seemed pleased. “I knew you’d know me.”

“What are you doing here?” she said.

“What I always do, Grace Chen. I’m protecting what must be protected. Getting into trouble.” He winced at this last.

I drew close to my pack of three. Cormac was watching the exchange through a swollen eye. Red and puffy now, it would turn impressively black in a day or two. He was still holding his side as if ribs were broken. We needed to get him someplace safe to rest.

He gripped my shoulder. “Sun Wukong. The Monkey King.”

I’d heard the name before—a Chinese folk hero, a character in a story. I still didn’t know what that meant in terms of the man standing before us. He seemed so … ordinary.

“Am I talking to Cormac or Amelia?” I said.

He frowned and gave a curt shake of his head. “He never should have attacked that vampire. I tried to tell him it was useless but he wouldn’t listen. He so rarely listens.”

That was Amelia, speaking with Cormac’s voice. Berating him with it.

He shook his head again; this time the gesture was tired. “She’s never hunted vampires, not like I have. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

And that was Cormac. This was weird, even by my standards.

“You two are arguing like married people,” I said.

“You should hear it on the inside,” he answered, and I didn’t know who was talking that time.

“I’ve helped you about as much as I can—and caused enough trouble, I think,” Sun said. “This isn’t your fight, not anymore. Anastasia, you’re blinded by your own history. You need to let it go. Be at peace for once in your life.”

“Don’t feed me your Buddhist drivel!”

Sun shook his head. “That’s the trouble with you vampires. You step out of the world and think it makes you free.”

“But you don’t understand, if Roman has the Dragon’s Pearl—”

“It’s not the end of the world. Trust me. Go home and rest.”

His words were persuasive. They were meant to be, to ease us out of this crazy underground world and back into the mundane one. Back to my normal werewolf life. This wasn’t my problem. Larger powers were at work here, and I wasn’t one of them. Didn’t I keep saying that?

Ben and Cormac were both looking at me, as if they could tell what I was thinking. As if they knew I wasn’t going to let this go. Neither of them argued. I ran my hand over Ben’s head, brushing my fingers through his hair. He nudged my hand, wolflike. More in-depth communication would have to wait. I so wanted the chance to curl up in his arms and believe that we were going to be safe.

“We have to try to find Henry,” I said.

“He’s just a vampire,” Sun said. I glared at him.

“That’s not the only problem,” Grace said. She’d started pacing, only a few steps in the confines of the passageway. “How did that vampire—what’s his name?”

“Roman,” I said.

“How’d he get down here?” she went on. “How’d he find his way into the tunnels, much less through them, without getting lost? Who’s his guide?”

Sun’s expression didn’t change, and Grace looked grim, but Anastasia had turned apprehensive again—as if she knew exactly the shape of the world outside her control.

A sound reached us, muffled, blocked by a wall or a door, but close enough to track. I held my breath and listened—it sounded like a baby crying. I knew that sound; the hair on the back of my neck prickled, and my gut turned cold.

Sun moved toward the sound. “Uh-oh.”

“What do you mean, ‘uh-oh’?” Ben shot at him.

Sun turned back to the rest of us. “Someone wants to meet us.”

Sun—Sun Wukong, the Monkey King—gestured, and we looked to see the nine-tailed fox sitting at the end of the corridor, shining ruddy in a small patch of light. It opened its mouth to make that eerie, too-human noise of a hungry infant. Instead of being attracted to it this time, I was horrified. Wrong, this was all wrong. I wanted to run, to flee. I reached for and found Ben’s hand, and he squeezed back.

“Who?” Anastasia said. “I won’t go until you say who has summoned us.”

“Do we have a choice about this?” I said.

“You know who the huli jing belongs to,” Grace said, wondering. She seemed entranced as she stepped toward the creature, which then jumped to its feet and twitched its tails, waving them. The bundle of tails blurred, it seemed to move so quickly, the red fur sparking in the dim light.

Grace went toward the fox, and I followed with my pack because I didn’t want to leave her alone. Anastasia hesitated, but Sun gestured, and she went forward. He brought up the rear.

The fox bounded ahead and stopped at a side door that I swore hadn’t been there before. This one had Chinese written directly on the wood—another blessing or a warning? The fox yipped—this time, the sound was like a child’s sharp laugh. Standing on its hind legs, it put its paws on the door as if hoping to push it open, but it was too heavy. Grace went to help it, and Sun joined her. With the three of them pushing together, the door creaked open, wood scraping against the concrete floor, dust shaking from the hinges. A warm light shone from the room behind the door.

I held back, feeling like I was stepping into someone else’s story. I didn’t understand the rules and symbols that were being shown to me.

“Grace?” I asked softly.

“Just watch,” she said. “And be quiet. Be respectful. You think you can do that?”

Normally, I could never promise to be quiet. Somehow, I didn’t have much of an urge to speak just now.

“What’s happening?” Ben said. I shook my head, so he turned to Cormac.

“Never seen anything like it. Neither of us,” he said.

We entered the room.

Chapter 14

THE NINE-TAILED FOX bounded forward like a puppy greeting its favorite person. Its final leap took it into the lap of a woman, middle-aged and full-bodied, seated in a chair, ornately carved and lacquered in black and gold. Cooing, the woman gathered the animal close, scratching its ears, rubbing its flanks, bringing her face close so the fox could lick her chin and nose, which it did joyfully, and the woman laughed.

The woman—she must have been of average height, of normal size. But she seemed to fill the space. Her face was kind and beautiful, though what must have been smooth porcelain features when she was young had