Catnip (15 page)

A few booths in the far corner sold various
costume paraphernalia, and the guests took pictures of their
friends and loved ones, throwing up peace signs as they did so. A
live band in the opposite corner was rocking out some pretty decent
music and doing it in ultra-loud fashion, and a few couples started
dancing. The voices all came at once and they disoriented him, so
he concentrated on the girl by his side. “Are you hungry?” he
asked.

“Yeah, I could eat something.”

They made their way to the buffet and stood
arm to arm with a man masquerading as a superhero on one side and a
robot on the other. “Cool uniform the lady has,” opined the robot
as he filled his plate. “That’s the realest thing I’ve ever
seen.”

If you only knew, Harry thought, nodded
politely, and moved off. Anastasia had already gone down the line,
wedging herself in at the hamburger section and filling her plate
alongside a woman dressed like a princess.

The whole experience felt like he’d just
entered some kind of computer simulation…just like in the
movies…and then he decided that doing his experiments was pretty
much the same thing. He couldn’t judge and had no right to, so he
kept his mouth shut and listened to the flow of conversation around
him.

“You’re not eating?” Anastasia had returned
and her plate was filled with hamburgers. No buns or condiments,
just meat, and she nibbled on them in a most ladylike fashion.

“I’m not that hungry,” he answered and
observed the sea of humanity that flowed around them. Everyone
seemed to be having a good time—everyone but him.

Suddenly, Anastasia’s ears twitched, she put
down her plate and sniffed the air. “What is it?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice
uncertain. “I smell someone here, someone…I might have known.”

“Is it that thing?”

She shook her head. “No, I’d know if he was
here. He’s got a certain scent. This one is…
different.
”

Harry wondered what she meant by
different
, but his attention got taken away by a party
crasher. “Hey, you mind if I talk to your date?”

The voice came from behind him. He spun
around and saw a tall man dressed like a cross between a samurai
and an elf with false and very pointy ears along with a full mask.
The smell of beer cut through his uniform. He was obviously drunk
and swayed unsteadily on his feet. I just hope this moron doesn’t
set Anastasia off, he thought.

Unfortunately, the moron did. “Hey
kitty-cat,” he slurred out. “You got a name, or do I have to
guess?”

Harry tried to intercede. “She’s with me.
Maybe you can find someone else to talk to, okay?”

The samurai-elf dude loomed in front of him,
and Harry got the distinct impression that a moth against an
elephant would stand a better chance. Standing tall against the
other guy didn’t work as he was giving up six inches in height and
a lot of weight.

The guy tore his mask off. In his early
twenties, he had a tough pug’s face, heavily marked with acne and
more than a few battle scars. “Pal, you’re a little runt, you know
that? I’m talking to the lady. She can decide for herself.”

Harry momentarily felt a pang of fear, but
fought it down. They couldn’t afford to draw attention to
themselves. Still, this guy didn’t know when to stop. Anastasia,
however, decided to take matters into her own hands. “Harry,” she
said and injected a seductive purr to her voice, “let me handle
this.”

She turned to the large man, her features a
stone mask. “You wanted to play with the kitty?”

He took a step toward her, lust in his eyes
and started to stroke her cheek. “You know it, babe.”

His smile partially disappeared when he
realized he was touching real fur and disappeared altogether when
she grabbed his hand. It was covered by a thick glove, but her
claws, fully extended, sank right through the material and into the
meaty flesh of his palm. Blood soaked through and the man screamed,
but the band was so loud Harry doubted anyone could have heard him.
Anastasia’s eyes turned a brilliant yellow, and in spite of the
difference in height and weight, she pulled the punk over to her
effortlessly. “Listen, samurai jerk, rule number one. Don’t touch
me—ever. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he managed to get out and his legs
started to buckle.

She twisted her wrist, shoved the claws in
deeper, and this time he
did
go down on both knees. He
didn’t look so tough anymore.

Anastasia’s voice came out low, and as cold
and hard as steel. “Now listen up for rule number two and listen
carefully. I’m not a kitty cat and my name is not
Miss Kitty
just in case you’re thinking it. Are you?”

“No.” The voice came out barely above a
whisper and a few people looked on with amusement.

She continued her lecture, and by now a small
crowd had formed. “Three, and this is the prime directive, I’m here
with my boyfriend.” She motioned to Harry. “With
him
, do you
understand me now?”

“I…I’m sorry,” the man said, his face
contorted in agony. “I just came here to pick up some chicks,
y’know?”

“Pick up and leave.”

She withdrew her claws and the punk painfully
staggered to his feet and unsteadily ran out of the room. She
turned to Harry and shook her head in disgust. “I’ve gotta go and
wash up. His smell made me sick.”

“I’ll wait.”

Anastasia effortlessly moved through the
crowd in search of the ladies room. The onlookers let out a cheer,
slapped Harry on the back, and after the congratulations had been
given they moved off. He could only mumble his thanks, and while
shifting his feet nervously, he heard a gruff voice say from behind
him, “Hey, some moves your girlfriend’s got.”

What?
He spun around, looked in the
direction of the voice, and saw a short, chunky man roughly three
feet in height dressed in a dog suit with a pair of dark brown
pants on. The suit looked very professional. The man resembled a
cross between a bulldog and a bull terrier, with the latter’s
pig-like eyes, stocky and muscular body, and white fur with brown
patches. He had a rather long snout yet had a human mouth. Terrific
makeup job, Harry decided. The guy had a sign on his chest which
read
Beware of Doug
. Oh, and the compliment…what to say?

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” he said, embarrassed yet
pleased. “She’s, uh, she’s pretty cool to be around.”

“I’ll bet.”

The man’s tone sounded on the edge of being
sarcastic—almost, not quite—and Harry wondered if this guy was just
being a jerk or trying to tell him something. The man held a bottle
of beer in his left hand, took a long drink, and then nodded and
stuck out his right hand. “I’m Doug, like the sign says. You know,
Doug equals dog and all that. You think it’s catchy?”

“Uh, yeah,” he managed to say. “I’m
Harry.”

They shook, and Harry marveled at the texture
of the other man’s hand. It actually felt like a dog’s paw even
though the fingers were human. Fine hair coated the other guy’s
knuckles. “Is this your first convention?” he asked.

Doug shook his head, finished off his beer,
and belched loudly. “Nah, I’ve been to a lot of these parties
before. You meet all kinds—furries, cosplay artists, wannabe
actors—I’ve seen it all.”

He looked around the room with a series of
sharp head movements and seemed to spot someone he knew. His nose
twitched, the nostrils rapidly opening and closing, and he sniffed
the air much like Anastasia always did. “Hey, it was nice meeting
you. I gotta get something to eat. See you around.”

Before Harry could say another word, the man
nodded at him and trotted off, his feet moving in quick, sure
steps. He disappeared into the crowd and blended in so well he
seemed to act just like a…

“Harry?”

He jumped and whirled around. His girlfriend
stood there, a look of disappointment on her face. “What is it this
time?” he asked.

“Someone in the washroom commented on how
lifelike my costume looked and asked me who the makeup artist was.”
She shook her head and whispered, “If anyone here knew that I
really look this way all the time, would they be so friendly?”

He shrugged. “Do you really care what they
think?”

She turned her gaze to the floor. “No…and
yes,” she finally replied. “It’s just that…”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” he interrupted,
trying to head off an imminent bout of depression on her part.

Anastasia picked her head up and she leaned
her body in closer to his. She whispered into his ear, “I think
we’re more than that.”

Her whiskers tickled his flesh and he wanted
to answer her, but then the band started to play a slow ballad. The
couples on the floor held onto their partners, their bodies moving
awkwardly due to the bulk of their costumes. Anastasia had no
external covering save her fur and her clothes, and she started
swaying to the beat, a slow grinding of her hips with her hands
above her head.

While the other participants looked on in
wonder, he stood there, totally stunned. Out of the corner of his
eye, he saw the other men staring at her, their mouths half open,
mesmerized. Perhaps she was aware of the way she moved and perhaps
not, but to him, the way her hips rotated, a graceful and slight
yet obvious and sensual gyration, her eyes half-closed, the smell
of her…something only he knew…

Anastasia suddenly clung to him. Clumsy
though he was, he let her guide him and soon their bodies became as
one, totally in synch with the music. He felt the heat rising all
over his body and he knew that
she
knew she was having some
effect on him. It had to be pheromones, nature’s catnip, and right
then and there, science aberration notwithstanding he blessed
Mother Nature for being so kind.

“You’re nice to hold,” she whispered in his
ear. “I…I didn’t think anyone would ever accept me this way.”

He pulled back just a bit and gazed into her
eyes. Once again, they caught his and he felt totally enraptured by
the woman in his arms. “I don’t care. I’m sorry…whoever did this to
you made you this way…but it’s okay with me.”

A slight frown crossed her face which soon
got replaced by a tiny smile. She purred and leaned into him again.
“Thanks. You’re different. That’s what makes you special.”

He held her narrow waist and her tail
twitched upward to tickle his nose playfully. Regrettably, the
music ended and they broke their clinch, although they still held
hands. A few people came over and complimented Anastasia on her
costume, and this time she bobbed her head and smiled.

Harry stood awkwardly by her side and then
she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek while a few of the
participants let out whoops of joy. “Hey, some effect,” a man
dressed like a purple polka-dot said to her, a grin on his face.
“What do you use to make your tail move? You got wires inside or
something?”

“It’s real,” she replied, and to prove it,
she raised her tail and lashed him gently around his knees. Like
the punk samurai wannabe, Mr. Polka Dot’s grin vanished abruptly.
He got a strange look on his face, suddenly backed off, and
Anastasia watched him leave with a smile as the crowd laughed and
clapped to show their appreciation. “That’s one way to get rid of
them.”

Then a look of fear flickered in her eyes.
Harry put his hand on her shoulder. “What is it?”

“We have to go!”

“What
is
it?” he repeated.

A roar shook the room and drowned out the
rumble of the music. The bear-man had entered, and he pushed his
way roughly through the crowd. A few security people came over and
tried to head him off. He simply seized one of them and crushed his
head.

“Holy crap, it’s still alive!” Harry yelled.
He’d seen Farrell pump six bullets into it back at FBI headquarters
and they had no effect. How could anything have lived through that
kind of attack?

No one provided an answer to his question as
the music stopped, the screams started, and then all hell broke
loose. The crowd made a mad dash for the exits, running over each
other and trampling on anyone who got in their way. Harry got
knocked down, and the bear-man spotted them and lumbered over
quickly. He didn’t speak, just grinned. His fangs were red and
stained with something that looked like meat and it was quite
obvious he wasn’t into being a vegan…unless he liked eating
them.

“Come and get some!” Anastasia yelled and
pushed Harry out of harm’s way. She flicked open her claws, and
scared or not, jumped right at the beast and slashed his face. He
bellowed and kept his head down, protecting his head and neck from
further attack, and moved forward as a boxer would, blindly
swinging away. His claws were at least two inches longer than hers
and they scored deep gashes in her face and torso and shredded her
clothes. She yowled in pain, but kept up her attack, hissing and
spitting and scratching for all she was worth.

It wasn’t enough. He grabbed her in a
bear-hug and started to squeeze. Harry drew back in fear for a
moment, and then his affection for Anastasia overcame his dread. He
grabbed the nearest chair and belted the creature over the head,
but that was like a mosquito trying to annoy an elephant. He hit
him again and again, and when the chair broke, Harry used a jagged
limb to stab the creature in its side.

This time it had an effect. Blood spurted out
and the bear-man dropped his prey. Anastasia fell to the floor
gasping for breath and the monster turned on Harry.

Oh hell, I’m toast, Harry thought. The
creature grabbed him with one hand and easily lifted him off the
floor and held him close to its mouth. A stink of carrion emanated
from the open maw. Harry smelled death coming…and then his attacker
bellowed again and let him go.

He fell to the floor in a heap and saw Doug
savagely biting into the monster’s calf, worrying it like a rat.
Blood jetted into the air, and then Anastasia got herself back into
the act. She jumped impossibly high, twisted her body in a one
hundred-eighty degree turn, and landed on the creature’s back. From
her position, she slashed at the back of his head for all she was
worth.