'Get Baron,' I tried to squeak.
'I can so help.' Jenks pried a toothpick-sized stick of wood from around the hole.
'The rat,' I cluttered. 'He can't see.' Frustrated, I knocked over a canister of sink cleaner. The powder spilled out, and the smell of pine became overwhelming. Snatching Jenks's toothpick, I wrote out, 'Get rat.'
Jenks took to the air, a hand over his nose. 'Why?'
'Man,' I scrawled. 'Can't see.'
Jenks grinned. 'You found a friend! Wait till I tell Ivy.'
I bared my teeth, pointing at the door with my stick. Still he hesitated. 'You'll stay here? Keep making that hole bigger?'
Frustrated, I threw the stick at him. Jenks hovered backward. 'All right, all right! Don't lose your panties. No, wait. You don't have any, do you?'
His laughter chimed out, sounding like freedom itself, as he slipped past the crack in door. I went back to chewing the floor. It tasted awful, a putrid mix of soap, grease, and mold. I just knew I was going to get sick. Tension strung through me. The sudden thumps and crashes from up front jerked me. I was waiting for the triumphant cry of capture. Fortunately it seemed the dog didn't know what was expected of it. It wanted to play, and tempers were getting short.
My jaws ached, and I stifled a cry of frustration. Soap had gotten into the cut on my ear, and it was a flaming misery. I tried to stick my head through the hole and into the crawl space. If my head could make it, my body probably could, too. But it wasn't big enough yet.
'Look!' someone shouted. 'He's working now. He's got their scent.'
Frantic, I yanked my head out of the hole. My ear scraped and started bleeding again. There was a sudden scratching in the hallway, and I redoubled my efforts. Jenks's voice came faintly over the sounds of my gnawing. 'It's the kitchen. Rachel is under the sink. No. The next cupboard. Hurry! I think they saw you.'
There was a sudden rush of light and air, and I sat up, spitting pulpy wood from me.
'Hi! We're back! I found your rat, Rache.'
Baron glanced at me. His eyes were bright. Immediately he bounded over. His head dipped into the hold and he started gnawing. There wasn't enough room for his wider shoulders. I continued to widen the hole at the top. The yapping of the dog came from the hall. We froze for a heartbeat, then chewed. My stomach clenched.
'Is it big enough?' Jenks shouted. 'Go! Hurry!'
Pushing my head into the hole next to Baron's, I gnawed furiously. There was a scratching at the cupboard door. Shafts of light flickered as the door bumped against the frame. 'Here!' a loud voice shouted. 'He's got one in here.'
Hope dying, I pulled my head up. My jaws ached. The pine soap had matted my fur and was burning my eyes. I turned to face the scrabbling of paws. I didn't think the opening was big enough yet. A sharp squeak drew my attention. Baron was crouched beside it, pointing down.
'It's not big enough for you,' I said.
Baron lunged at me, yanking me to the hole and stuffing me down. The sound of the dog grew suddenly louder, and I dropped into space.
Arm and legs outstretched, I tried to snag the pipe. A front paw reached a welded seam. I jerked to a stop. Above me the dog barked wildly. There was a scrabble of claws on the wood floor, then a yelp. I started losing my hold. I dropped to the dry earth. I lay there, listening for Baron's death scream.
There was a quick scratching and a thump in the dirt beside me.
'You made it!' I squeaked, seeing Baron sprawled in the dirt.
Jenks flitted down, glowing in the dim light. There was a dog whisker in his hand. 'You should have seen him, Rache,' he said excitedly. 'He bit that dog right on the nose. He-yah! Pow! Slam-bam, thank you, ma'am!'
The pixy continued his circles around us, too hyper to sit still. Baron, however, seemed to have the shakes. Curled into a huddled ball of fur, he looked like he was going to be sick. I crept forward, wanting to say thanks. I touched him on his shoulder, and he jumped, staring at me with wide black eyes.
'Get that dog out of here!' came an angry voice through the floor, and we looked up at the faint spot of light. The yapping grew faint, and my pulse eased. 'Yup,' Jim said. 'Those are fresh chewings. One got out this way.'
'How do we get down there?' It was Trent, and I cowered, pressing myself into the dirt.
'There's a trapdoor in the hallway, but the crawl space is open to the street through any of the vents.' Their voices grew distant as they moved away. 'I'm sorry, Mr. Kalamack,' Jim was saying. 'We've never had an escapee before. I'll get someone to go down there right away.'
'No. She's gone.' His voice held a controlled, soft frustration, and I felt a stir of victory. Jonathan wasn't going to have a very pleasant drive back. I straightened from my crouch and heaved a sigh. My ear and eyes were burning. I wanted to go home.
Baron squeaked for my attention, pointing to the ground. I looked to find he had written in careful letters, 'Thanks.'
I couldn't help my smile. Crouched beside him, I wrote, 'You're welcome.' My letters looked sloppy next to his.
'You two are so
Baron leapt to the screen across the vent, latching on with all four feet. Choosing carefully, he began to pull at the seams with his teeth.
Twenty-three
My spoon scraped the bottom of the cottage cheese container. Hunching over it, I pushed what remained into a pile. My knee was cold, and I tugged my midnight-blue, terry-cloth robe back over it. I was stuffing my face while Baron changed back into a person and showered in the second bathroom Ivy and I had independently determined was mine. I could hardly wait to see what he really looked like. Ivy and I agreed that if he had survived the rat rights for who knew how long, he had to be a hunk. God knew he was brave, chivalrous, and not fazed by vampires—the last one being the most intriguing, seeing as Jenks had said he was human.
Jenks had called Ivy collect from the first phone we found. The sound of her motorcycle—just out of the shop from her having slid it under a truck last week—had been like a choir singing. I almost cried at her concern when she swung from the seat wearing head-to-toe biker leather. Someone cared if I lived or died. It didn't matter if it was a vampire whose motives I still didn't understand.
Neither Baron or I would get into the box she had brought, and after a five-minute discussion consisting of her protests and our squeaks, she finally threw the box into the back of the alley with a grunt of frustration and let us ride up front. She hadn't been in the best of moods when she tooled on out of the alley, a mink and a rat standing on her gas tank with our forepaws on the tiny dash. By the time we cleared the worst of Friday rush-hour traffic and were able to pick up speed, I knew why dogs hung their heads out the window.
Riding a bike was always a thrill, but as a rodent, it was a scentual rush. Eyes squinting and my whiskers bent back by the wind, I rode home in style. I didn't care that Ivy was getting odd looks and people kept blowing their horns at us. I was sure I was going to have a brain orgasm from the overload of input. I almost regretted it when Ivy had turned onto our street.
Now, with a finger, I pushed the last bit of cheese onto the spoon, ignoring Jenks's pig noises from the ladle hanging over the center island. I hadn't stopped eating since losing my fur, but as I'd had only carrots for the last three and a half days, I was entitled to a little binge.
Setting the empty container aside on the dirty plate before me, I wondered if it hurt more or less to transform if you were a human. From the muffled, masculine groan of pain that had emanated from the bathroom before the shower started, I'd say it hurt just about the same.
Though I had scrubbed myself twice, I thought I still smelled mink under my perfume. My torn ear throbbed, my neck had red-rimmed punctures where Baron had bitten me, and my left leg was bruised from falling into the
