Zombie Raccoons & Killer Bunnies (27 page)

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Authors: Martin H. Greenberg

BOOK: Zombie Raccoons & Killer Bunnies
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I took a few deep breaths, certain that there’d be more help coming. But the expressway was empty, and there were no flashing cop cars. No, just a lovely brightly colored macaw flying at the rats, slashing with its beak and claws. And the lightning bolts being slung from the doctor’s fingers at the rats.
Lightning. I felt oddly calm about the whole thing. Of course, lightning. What else . . .
The possum was charging toward me.
Uh-oh. It occurred to me that just lying there was not a good idea. I needed to be running, or at least trotting, away from this madness.
Wan was chasing the possum, as were Itty and Bitty, barking madly. I struggled to my feet just as the possum threw something at me. A globe of light again, sparkly white and lovely. I threw up my hands to ward it off, even as Wan chopped at the possum.
The globe of light splattered over me, soft and warm, like a blanket. Just like a blanket, in fact, it was expanding, clinging, covering me quickly, my chest, mouth, and nose.
I couldn’t breathe.
The stuff wrapped tight and started to constrict, forcing what air I had out of my chest. I struggled, pushed at it, but while I could move it, I couldn’t break it. I had
a brief moment to be thankful that there was no one around. I probably looked like a bag lady fighting a garbage bag.
Arms surrounded me. The doctor. I could see those gray eyes, feel his arms around me. Was that the macaw on his shoulder?
There was no air left. Interestingly enough, I actually felt my eyes roll back into my head as I lost consciousness.
 
I woke up and smelled the coffee.
Floating just on the edge of sleep, I took a deep breath, trying to get the caffeine into my system through my lungs. Deep and rich and dark. I could almost taste it on the back of my tongue. Clearly I was dead, and heaven smelled like French roast.
Warm. I was warm as well, lying wrapped in a blanket on what felt like a sofa. There was weight on my feet, which could only be Itty and Bitty. Poor things, they were probably exhausted from their . . .
From something. I couldn’t remember exactly. I was wrapped in a soft blanket, on a couch. Did I fall asleep watching a game?
As much as I wanted coffee, I also wanted to float off again, just drift off for a while. But now sounds started to invade my private, perfect world. Voices, soft and persistent, with the clink of a spoon against a cup and the sound of coffee being poured.
“You shouldn’t have approached her at all. You’ve put her in danger.”
“Such was not my intent.” Wan was speaking, but he sounded louder than normal. Sleep would have to wait, it seemed.
“But after so long,” Wan continued. “I’d been alone for so long . . . she is a friend. A good person.”
“And a mundane. With no knowledge, no skills. She’s not going to be—”
Hell, that was the doctor. It came back then. The attack, the rats . . . the doctor throwing lightning bolts. I opened my eyes, blinking at the sun pouring into a strange living room. My dogs were asleep on my feet.
Crap. I was naked under the blanket.
“How long have you been with her?”
“A little more than a month.” Wan answered. He sounded apologetic. “Can you make her forget this? Forget me?”
What? I started to struggle with the blanket at that point, clutching it close while trying to sit up. Itty and Bitty snorted and shifted, but they didn’t even raise their heads.
“Kate?” Wan’s voice came from behind the sofa.
I freed my arms and tried to push myself up, which jarred my wounded hand. I muffled my curse as I managed to sit up. “No one’s mucking about in my head.” I growled, trying to clear my throat and talk at the same time.
Wan came around the end of the sofa, still man sized, a pleased look on his face. “You are well?”
“I am naked.” I snarled, lifting a hand to smooth my hair back. I pulled it back to find my hand smeared with dirt and white sticky stuff. “Oh, ick.”
“No one is going to muck around in your head. After this long, I couldn’t make you forget, even if I wanted to.” The doctor came around the other corner of the sofa, a white mug in each hand. Steam rose from the cups, taunting me.
“Coffee.” I wiped my hand on the blanket and reached out like a babe for a bottle.
The doctor wisely surrendered one of the mugs. He sat on the coffee table, opposite me.
I ignored him, taking my first sip, eyes closed with pleasure. It tasted as good as it smelled. I sighed and sank deeper into the cushions.
The doctor . . . hell if I could remember his name . . . studied me with those sharp steel gray eyes. “Your clothes were ruined, filthy and soaking wet. We,” he emphasizing the word, “stripped them off you and wrapped you in the blanket.”
Wan still hovered, his sword slung over his shoulder. It felt funny to have to look up at him. When I did, his tail flicked up and he clutched it with both paws. “Are you well, Kate?”
“I am not.” I scowled at both of them. “What happened?”
“What do you remember?” The doctor leaned forward as he asked the question and laid two fingers on the inside of my wrist. His skin tingled against mine.
I pulled my hand back and rubbed my eyes. “Not being able to breathe.”
“You collapsed, Kate.” Wan drew a deep breath, his ears twitching. “You fell, lifeless—”
“She’s fine, Wan.” The doctor said. “You lost consciousness, but we got the stuff off you quickly.”
I frowned, looking at the sunlight pouring through the windows. “How long was I out?”
Wan darted a glance at the doctor. “Doctor McDougall saw fit to cast—”
“I bespelled you. We needed to move fast, and I didn’t have time for arguments. More coffee?” Doctor McDougall rose, supreme in his overblown confidence, and disappeared behind the couch.
Wan stood there, clutching his tail.
I relented and patted the cushion next to me.
Wan removed his sword and set it on the coffee table.
He sat next to me, his tail reaching out to wrap around my wrist. I was never going to get used to that. But he’d spent a thousand years practicing.
“I feared for you, honorable lady.” Wan’s warm fur rubbed against my arm. “This man removed the spell on you, then scooped you up in his arms, demanding I follow.”
“What about the possum?” I asked. “Did you get him?”
Wan shook his head. “He escaped, along with the remaining rats.” He leaned closer, his ear twitching. “Can we trust this man?”
“Do you have a choice?” Doctor McDougall stood over us, coffee pot in hand. I opened my mouth, but he shook his head as he poured. “Drink first. Argue later.”
I glared at him over the rim of my mug. “Shower first. I can drink and argue at the same time.”
“I’m not surprised,” the doctor replied mildly.
“I will assist you, Kate.” Wan sprang up, taking his sword and pulling the strap over his head.
I let him help me up, still clutching my precious caffeine and the blanket. The doctor preceded us, turning on lights and getting towels. What a surprise—the bathroom was huge, with a walk-in shower and spa tub. I leaned against the sink for a minute, just taking in the glory of the room, trying not to drool.
“I’ll leave you to it,” MacDougall said as he left.
“Kate,” Wan said softly.
I turned, setting the mug down by the sink, the blanket twisting around my legs. I smiled at him. “It seems so odd, to look you in the eye.”
“The spell will not last much longer, or so he said.” Wan hesitated, then gave me a deep bow. “I wish to offer
my humble apologies. I have brought danger upon you, honorable lady, and I am deeply shamed.”
“Wan,” I reached out and touched his shoulder. “I don’t know what MacDougall said to you, but this is not your fault.”
He straightened, shaking his head to negate my words. I could see the pain in his eyes, beady though they might be. On impulse, I reached out and hugged him, sliding my hands under the sheath of his sword.
Wan hesitated for a moment, then wrapped his paws . . . arms . . . around me and buried his face in my hair. His fur was warm and soft, and I could feel the strength in his arms. Paws. Whatever.
“I will defend you with my life,” he whispered.
I tightened my arms around him, then released, making sure my blanket stayed up. “Go eat. I’ll be quick, and maybe then we will get answers.”
“Take your time, Kate.” Wan said. “We are safe within this home.”
I closed the door behind him and turned to look at myself in the mirror. Lord, I looked like hell. I started the shower and sank down on the toilet to let it warm.
Could we trust McDougall? Hell if I knew. I mean, points for saving my life and all, but . . .
On the other hand, we didn’t have a lot of alternatives. Seems the public library was a tad short on information about “possums, the use of magic by.” We had to get some information from somewhere. McDougall was a place to start.
But as I shed my blanket and stepped into the shower, I reminded myself of one thing. Wan had some explaining to do of his own. He hadn’t come clean, and apologies aside, he damn well better.
To hell with it. For the next few minutes all I was going to think about was soap and hot water. I poured half a bottle of shampoo in my hand and started scrubbing.
I was enjoying the second rinse when the door of the bathroom opened.
I froze, as the cold air swirled around the hot steam and made me shiver. “Wan?”
“The spell wore off,” McDougall said quietly. His voice echoed in the tiled room. “I found some clothes for you.”
I couldn’t see him through the shower wall, but I knew he was there. I covered myself, feeling very naked and vulnerable, suddenly convinced that he had x-ray vision. It occurred to me that I was naked in a stranger’s house, a stranger who threw lightning and had talked about mucking with my head. With only a mouse-sized mouse as a protector.
“How do you like your eggs?”
Er . . . it took a moment to wrap my head around that question. “Scrambled.”
“Cheese?”
Okay, it was hard to be suspicious of a man offering to cook for me. “Sure.” I paused for a minute, but he didn’t move. “Thank you, Doctor McDougall.”
There was a longer pause. “My name is Sean. But I go by ‘Mac’.”
That seemed to require a response. “Thank you, Mac.”
The door closed, and the steam started to build back up again. I turned off the water and stood there dripping for a moment, feeling as though I’d somehow missed an important part of that conversation.
* * *
“Magic exists.” Mac said.
My fork full of eggs paused in midair as I glared at him. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to tell us?”
“Yes. More toast?”
I stuffed the eggs in my mouth and glared at him. They were perfect, light and fluffy with just the right amount of cheese. I can’t cook an egg to save my life.
“That seems unfair.” Wan was sitting on a small chair in the center of the table, sipping tea from a tiny cup. His sword hung on the back of the chair. “We need to know—”
“You don’t need to know,” Mac said. “Kate is mundane. Normally I’d be telling her that she’d had a fever dream or was hallucinating—”
“Lovely,” I muttered through my eggs.
“I need to know more,” Mac replied. “And consult with my colleagues. I will take you home and ward the house. That will keep you safe for now.”
I rolled my eyes and slipped Itty and Bitty each a piece of toast. They were at my feet, taking anything they could get and begging for more.
“But first,” Mac said, “I need to know what you protect.”
“I don’t know what you are talking—”
“Not you,” Mac said, staring down at Wan.
Wan tilted his head to the side and set his cup down. “How is it that I must speak when you remain silent?”
“I came when you called.” Mac said.
Wan studied him for a moment, then gave him a nod. “So be it.” He stood and pulled a white paper napkin from the holder. He spread it out on the table and then turned to retrieve his sword.
Mac and I reached out to clear away the butter, jam, and other items, leaving the table clear. Wan walked to
the middle of the napkin and knelt down. He set the sword down in front of him and then bowed, knocking his head three times three, moving with great dignity.
He lifted the sword then and removed the red tassel at the base of the hilt. He set that to one side and rapped the sword down three times on the table.
The hilt sprung open.
Mac and I leaned forward to watch, almost bumping heads.
Wan removed a small bundle wrapped in white silk from the hilt and set the sword aside. He placed the bundle before him and again prostrated himself before it. Normally I would have been impatient, but I was caught up in his approach to that bundle. To Wan, it was worth his life.
Wan raised his head, reached out, and pulled the cloth back. There, on the white silk, lay a necklace. Putting his hands under the silk, he arranged it in an oval.
It was lovely, with heavy jade pieces, bright green against the white. The pendant that hung from the necklace was almost circular and an odd color. It looked rough, like the inside of an oyster, yet it seemed to sparkle with all colors in its depths.
For just a moment, I seemed to feel the necklace around my neck, resting cool against my collarbones, then warming against my skin. The pendant would lay upon my breast, heavy yet light, with . . .
“It’s lovely, Wan.” I whispered.
“You look upon—”
I could barely hear him. The necklace seemed to call to me, and on impulse I reached out and brushed the pendant with my finger, just wanting to feel—
“Kate, NO!” Wan shouted.
My finger touched the jade, and the world went white.
I was floating, suspended between earth and the heavens, hanging freely as if underwater, clouds all around me.

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