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.
“Sh!” Errata cocked her head, listening.
Talia strained her ears. Footsteps in the passageway. Silently, Talia got to her feet and slipped around the corner to see who was nearby.
She saw a man up ahead wearing a vest with the crossed-sword design. Max. What’s he doing by himself?
Errata was behind her. “Isn’t that your brother? The one who shot Perry?”
“Yeah. I need to talk to him.” He risked himself to save me.
“Are you sure he wants to talk to you?”
Her words sliced through Talia. “This might be the only chance I’ll ever get.”
“And after that?” Her words were cool.
Talia didn’t answer. Half of them might not make it home alive. She wasn’t going to make promises.
With vampire speed, she closed the distance between herself and her brother. When she was a few steps behind, she paced him, step for step, letting the emotion that jammed in her throat crest, and then drain away. She blinked hard, clearing her vision before she spoke.
“Max.”
Her brother wheeled, bringing his rifle to his shoulder with the speed of long practice. Then he fell back a step, his mouth falling open.
“Talia.” Her name came out in a croak. “Get out of here.”
“We have to talk. I’m still your sister. We played on the snow hill together. We sat at the same table every breakfast and dinner.” Until Dad effing stole my chair.
Max’s face twisted with fear. “Talia, for the love of God get out of here. If Dad finds you . . .”
Talia heard a scream, half-human, half-enraged feline. Errata! She whipped around, her gaze searching the tunnel. She couldn’t see the werecougar, but there were more figures wearing the Hunter symbol on their clothes. The Hunters were converging on the spot Talia had left Errata. They have her!
Perry’s face flashed through her mind. They’d show no mercy to a werebeast, and what they could do to a female was even worse.
Max pushed past her, running toward the group and leaving her alone. He wasn’t brave or foolhardy enough to be caught talking to the enemy, even if it was his sister. Damn him!
Talia took a deep breath, shifting her grip on the Airlite. She wasn’t leaving Errata at their mercy. She started running toward the Hunters, her mind scrabbling for a plan.
Hard hands grabbed her from behind. “What are you thinking?”
“What the hell!” Talia twisted around. An enormous vampire loomed there, wearing a leather jacket and a ferocious scowl. Where had he come from?
“If you don’t stop and think, they’ll have you, too,” he said grimly, his ice-blue eyes so pale they looked almost white in the gloom. “Come on.”
He dragged her down the tunnel, not stopping until they reached a hollow in the stonework where they could take cover.
“Who are you?”
“Darak.”
So this was the mysterious rogue from the Empire. “Aren’t you supposed to be fighting topside?”
“I did my bit there. I had a promise to keep about dragging your ass out of the fire. Now I know why. You’re a bloody cowboy.”
“Lore made you promise?”
“No. Michelle.”
A sick feeling burned her. He talks to ghosts. “Was she all right?”
“Yeah. And she loved you.” His voice had the finality of a slamming door.
Talia turned away, hiding the tears that choked her. “Thanks. I guess..”
He grunted.
They were close enough that Talia could count the men. There were four, including Max. She knew all of them by name. One had been her neighbor.
Another was her father. Tall and lean, his gray hair shaved close to his skull, Mikhail Rostov was definitely in command. He turned her way for an instant, and Talia caught sight of his face. Deep lines cut from his nose to the corners of his mouth, emphasizing his unbending expression. Waves of anger and longing sang through her. She wanted to smash that expression off his face, to make him bend. In an anguished part of her heart, she wanted him to hold her and tell her she’d been a good girl.
She’d killed Belenos, but just seeing her father was infinitely worse.
Cold sweat trickled down the small of her back. There would be no reconciliation. The only thing she could do was make sure that he didn’t hurt her friends. She hoped that meant capturing him, but it might mean more.
“Are you okay?” Darak asked, studying her face.
“Yes,” Talia said, hearing her voice shake. “I used to be one of them.”