“Huh?” said Errata.
“A different cat. I used up my pepper spray getting it to back off. It’s still around.”
Errata pulled back from the hole, whipping her head around and sniffing the air. “Is it very big?”
“Let’s just say Fluffy’s on steroids, and he’s mean.”
With quick motions, she shut down the camera and stowed it safely inside her leather knapsack. “Take this,” she said to Talia, passing her the bag. “I’m going to get changed.”
Talia set the knapsack to one side and lay down on her stomach, peering into the hole. She remembered you had to lie flat when rescuing someone from an icy pond. She guessed falling through soft ice and rotten wood involved similar physics. Spreading out her weight would be a wise idea. Many vampires could levitate, but she’d never mastered the trick. “Can you reach my hand?”
Baines holstered his gun and hopped over on one foot, hissing through his teeth with pain. Their fingertips brushed. “Not quite,” he said.
She wriggled forward a couple of inches, listening for ominous moans from the flooring, and reached down again. This time, she got a firm grip on his hand. He was as cold as she was, all of the usual human warmth having fled his fingers.
It was at that moment she heard a low, feline murmur. She twisted to look behind her. “Oh, shit.”
Baines hadn’t been kidding. A long, wiry tabby was stalking around the hole, staring at Talia with brilliant green eyes. As cats went, it wasn’t pretty. One ear was torn. She could see its ribs. Its tail was missing patches of fur. And it was the size of a St. Bernard.
Talia froze, mesmerized by the lime-green stare. She could reach for her gun, but by the time she could draw it, she’d be vampire pate.
“It’s there, isn’t it?” asked Baines.
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s fast. I’m a good shot, but I’ve only managed to wing it.”
“That’s so not what I want to hear right now.”
A second yowl rippled down the tunnel. Errata.
The cat sprang to attention, forgetting all about Talia.
Talia immediately took advantage of the reprieve. Bracing herself the best she could, she gripped Baines’s hand and hauled with all her vampire strength. She heaved him up, up until his other hand could grab the edge of the hole. That gave her a bit more stability, so she used her free hand to clutch a fistful of his coat and drag him forward. It was an awkward maneuver. He landed with a flop, using his elbows to lever himself the rest of the way out of the hole.
Talia got to her feet, grabbing Errata’s backpack. Baines got to his feet, but it was obvious he wasn’t up to much walking, much less running away. Talia wrapped his arm over her shoulders, taking his weight. Step one was accomplished. She’d found their man. The next order of business was to get him aboveground, preferably without getting chewed on along the way.
The first obstacle was the Evil Kitty. It was hunched into an unhappy ball, tail lashing, sending up a nonstop chorus of warbling yowls. Errata was answering in kind, her own tail whipping against the floor.
The werecougar was smaller than Talia would have expected, her body only about four feet long. Errata was packed with muscle, her fur a tawny golden brown except for her white chin and underbelly. Rather than hunkering down, she had one paw in the air, ready to swipe at her opponent.
The caterwauling blended into a continuous meeeoww w w w w owrr . Talia would have given a lot for earplugs.
She struggled to think past the racket. She’d never get Baines back through the tunnels to the Castle entrance, but there was a boat a short hobble away. Under the circumstances, a bit of piracy didn’t bother her, especially when the rightful owner was a villain.
A hop at a time, they started toward it. Baines was silent, his face gone ashen with pain.
“Do you know how to hotwire a boat?” Talia asked.
“Not. Done it. Long time,” Baines replied through his teeth.
But you have. Interesting. Talia eyeballed the vessel as they got closer. It was a small Ranger, okay for traveling close to shore. “It’s got an old Evinrude outboard. There’s a red plug on the main wire harness. Disconnect it and jump the starter straight from the battery. Just choke it down to kill the engine later.”
Baines frowned at her. “I thought you were a Latin teacher.”
“English Lit, actually, but I can say all that in Latin if you want.”
The cat picked that moment to pounce on Errata. Talia and Baines wheeled around to see the tabby grab Errata’s head and flip her, clawing her belly with its hind legs. The cougar raked the tabby between the ears.
“Into the boat!” Talia ordered, grabbing Baines by the arm and half lifting him over the side. “Call the cavalry. Try the werebears. Tell them we need more help down here. Bring everything they’ve got.”
Baines gave a single nod, discipline warring with worry in his face. “I’ll do that.”
In the tunnel, the cats separated, but only for seconds. Errata boxed her opponent, using strength where the other had speed. The tabby caught her in another grapple, but this time Errata threw her weight against the cat, bearing down and gripping with her long, curved teeth.
Talia glanced back at Baines. He was already working on the motor.
“If you call in your cop friends, keep them out of the tunnels. This fight isn’t for humans. Your guys can make their arrests topside.”
Errata howled in outrage as the tabby clawed at her eyes.
The outboard motor sparked to life. Talia suddenly felt light-headed with relief. He would make it out of danger.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked.
“I’ve got to help Errata,” she said, getting to work on the rope tethering the boat to the mouth of the tunnel.
“Watch yourself.”
“Dead already, and I probably taste like it.” She cast the rope into the boat and walked away back into the tunnel.
One life saved. Now for the catfight.
She pulled her gun. This was getting to be one hell of a night. Just call me Dirty Harriet.
She braced her feet apart, raising the Airlite in both hands. “Here, kitty, kitty.”
Chapter 32
“It looks worse than it is,” Errata insisted. She’d wadded up some paper napkins she’d found in her knapsack and was pressing them against her head. “Scalp wounds bleed like crazy.”
They’d come to another tunnel junction. Talia looked both ways, her gun cupped in two hands. In the end, she’d frightened off the cat, but Baines had been right—it was too fast to get a clean shot. Not without risking Errata, who’d already been giving her all. Now the werecougar’s hazel eyes peered out of a mask of blood. The cat had ripped open her scalp badly enough that she hadn’t completely healed changing back to human form.
Good thing werebeasts didn’t smell like dinner, because she was starting to get hungry. “You look like you’re trying out for a role in a slasher flick.”
Errata rewadded the paper napkins, looking for a dry spot. “Harsh. Remind me not to take you shopping for bathing suits. My self-esteem wouldn’t survive it.”
“Actually, you’ve impressed me. Not everyone can fight.”
Errata gave a low laugh. “I have four older brothers.”
“That’d do it. Are you sure you don’t need to rest for a minute?”
“And risk a repeat visit from Whiskers? I don’t think so.”
When Errata fished her camera out again, Talia decided she had to be feeling okay, and kept moving. By now, they had to be near the spot with the hotel signs. She’d been hoping to meet up with Joe or Yaref, but no such luck.
