The lizard-men must have been even more sensitive to sound than humans. They stopped attacking, all of them turning to me as they hissed and bared their teeth.
Mouseguns are intended for self-defense and designed to be easily concealed in street clothes, not to hold enormous numbers of bullets. I kept my .32 raised, trying to look cool and unruffled, despite the blood I could feel trickling down my cheek from a cut near my hairline. I was going to be sore in the morning, assuming we lived through the night.
“I know you understand English,” I said, focusing on the lizard-man with the hacksaw. He was still standing, and he was my best guess for the leader. “Let’s see if you can understand this: back off and let us leave, or I start shooting again.” If they knew firearms, they’d know I was bluffing. If they knew firearms, they’d probably have brought some.
Slowly, the lizard-men began to back up. They weren’t backing away, exactly—the tunnel was too narrow for that—but they were clearing the necessary space for Dominic to move to my side, his short sword still at the ready, and a long, curving dagger in his off hand. That explained how he’d managed to keep the lizard-men from gutting him while he was chopping off their limbs; he had something to stab with, even when he was blocking.
“Now what?” he muttered.
“Now you’re going to lead me out of here, so I don’t have to take my eyes off our new buddies,” I said, keeping the gun aimed, unwavering, at the lizard-leader’s forehead.
“Right,” said Dominic. He stepped out of my field of vision. I felt his hand on my shoulder a moment later, tugging me back the way we’d come.
Even with Dominic making sure I didn’t collide with anything solid, walking was a chore. The previously-dry floor was slippery with blood, and chunks of lizard-man kept getting underfoot, threatening to knock me on my ass. I was glad to be wearing sensible shoes for a change, and doubly glad that I’d wrapped my ankles before we started pounding the pavement.
The lizard-men stayed where they were as we moved away, their tongues flicking, snakelike, to sample the air. Once we reached the first turn in the tunnel, I stepped back, lowered my gun, and looked to Dominic.
“This is where we run,” I said.
He nodded firm assent, grabbed my free hand, and booked it back up the incline toward the place where we’d entered.
The sound of clawed feet striking stone followed us all the way back to the ladder leading to the surface. The lizard-men started out at least twenty feet behind, and only gained slightly. Panic is a great motivator when it comes to sprinting. At the bottom of the ladder, I stopped and shoved Dominic forward, shouting, “Go! I’ll be right behind you!”
“Verity—”
“Don’t be a chivalrous idiot! I’m the one with the gun!”
He went.
Light flooded the tunnel as he shoved the manhole cover off to one side. I heard squeals of reptilian anguish coming from the direction of our pursuers. Looked like our subterranean Sleestak knockoffs couldn’t stand the sunlight. I drew my gun and fired once into the darkness, just to keep them from getting any funny ideas, and followed Dominic up, into the light.
The familiar mental static of Sarah’s proximity snapped on as soon as I got to ground level. Dominic grabbed my hands and pulled me off the top rung of the ladder, setting me on my feet before he returned to what he’d been doing: shoving the manhole cover back into place. A momentary chill washed over me as I realized that I’d been practically screaming “here I am, entomb me” to a member of the Covenant.
But he hadn’t. And judging by the quick, worried glance he cast my way before throwing all his weight onto the crowbar and forcing the manhole cover to move, he hadn’t been intending to. The screech of metal moving over blacktop would have been painful under normal circumstances. At the moment, it was music to my ears.
Telepathy gets harder the farther people are from each other. I was too tired to perform the internal gymnastics of trying to shout without using my mouth, and Sarah had to be as aware of my presence as I was of hers. Being a telepath means never needing to say “I’m lonely.” Digging my phone out of my purse, I leaned hard against the nearest lamppost and dialed her number.
She picked up before the first ring had time to finish. “How badly injured are you?” she demanded.
“I’ll probably never play the piano again, but my wounds are mostly superficial. I’m going to have some awesome bruises.” I could feel them forming across the back of my thighs where the lizard-man caught me with the rebar. “Not sure what Dominic’s status is. We were fighting pretty much blind.”
“Come back to the hotel. I’ll meet you in the lobby and walk you up to my room. Don’t argue!” The fierceness of her tone would have been comic under almost any other circumstances. “Aunt Evelyn would have my ears if I let you leave here without checking you over.”
“Technically, she’s your sister.” As attempts to tease go, reminding Sarah that her adoptive parents—my grandparents—are also Mom’s adopted parents was a pretty lame one.
It still seemed to reassure her that I wasn’t intending to bleed to death. “Get moving,” she said, much less fiercely, and hung up the phone.
I snapped my phone shut, shoving it into my bag and straightening up. Dominic had managed to get the manhole cover back into position. He was standing half-bent, hands braced against his knees and his feet apart. He looked exhausted. I shared the sentiment.
“You okay?” I asked, walking over and putting a hand on his shoulder.
His head jerked up, expression reflecting a startlement that changed quickly to concern. “You’re bleeding,” he said, eyes going to the cut in my forehead.
“Superficial,” I repeated. Comforting a cryptid and a member of the Covenant in the same five minutes. Who says the age of miracles is over? “What about you?”
“Some minor bruises and abrasions, and a possible sprain to my left shoulder.” Dominic’s expression darkened. “We could have been killed down there. Do you still want to insist that we befriend the monsters?”
“Not all of them. Just the ones smart enough to be on Facebook.” There was a shininess I didn’t like to the fabric on the right sleeve of his duster. I reached out, brushing my fingers against it. They came away slick and slightly sticky. “Your blood, or someone else’s?”
“Both.” Dominic glanced at the manhole cover. “I gave as well as I got.”
“So much for minor abrasions.” I stepped back. “Sarah’s going to meet us at the hotel. She can give us a once-over before we head out of here.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I would ever allow a
“Your total inability to take them to a New York emergency room without getting the third degree.” That wasn’t true—he could probably just claim to have been mugged, and since he didn’t have any bullet wounds, it wasn’t likely they’d report it to the police without his consent—but he didn’t need to know that.
Dominic sighed. “I cede the point. Any hostile actions, however…”
“Hey, after the Sleestaks, I’m jumpy too. Don’t worry. She’ll be careful.”
“That reminds me.”
“Of what?”
“What, exactly, is a ‘Sleestak’?”
I made it halfway through my explanation of
“Hey, Sarah,” I said, offering her a wave with one grimy, blood-mottled hand.
Her relief was visible. A small measure of the color bled back into her eyes, like ink spreading through blotter paper. “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you finding something horrible to get into, can I? Come on, both of you. I’ve got everyone in the lobby primed to ignore us, but I can’t keep it up for long.”
