Chapter 30: Chapter 30: Fight, Flight, or Roar!

What is that sound?

It’s all dark around me except for faint ambient light in the alcoves. My ears perk up, but I don’t give any hint that I’m awake. Just in case.

Something doesn’t feel right. Or smell right. Apart from the animal scents around me, and the smell of the grassy bed, there’s a distinct human smell here.

And footsteps.

Someone’s here. It’s not Kaline. Her steps are light and quick like a preteen girl’s, except when she clomps in boots. Same thing for Vedette as a teenager. It’s not Lamant. His steps are heavier, more masculine. It’s not Minette. Her footsteps are purposeful. Lady Lammermoor barely makes a sound thanks to her elven grace.

Is it one of the Lammermoor servants? Or Hans Lammermoor?

[Lightning.]

No answer.

[Lightning!]

Still no answer. Ugh. She must be still asleep. How can she sleep when there’s a potential intruder here?

[Lobo!]

A sleepy growl answers me.

[Lobo! Wake up!]

His growl is grumpy now. [I’ll tear you apart if you don’t shut up.]

His threat doesn’t rattle me. There’s too much at stake. Every animal here could be in grave danger. [You’re free to do so, but first you have to listen!]

[Woof. Fine. What is it?]

I gather my courage. [Do you hear that? Footsteps?]

An excruciating pause while he listens. I can’t stand the suspense.

[It’s probably just a servant. You woke me up for this?]

But my instincts apparently have a death wish. [Are you certain? Completely certain?]

He woofs, listening. [Well…]

[Spit it out! Every second counts.]

At last, and an agonizing few seconds later, he growls. [It’s one of the guests.]

My hair feels like I’ve come in contact with static electricity. [You’re sure?]

[Positive. And they shouldn’t be here. They should still be at the party or asleep or engaged in human mating–]

[Which guest?]

His tone is disgruntled. [Silence your tongue. Be still. Close your eyes. DO NOT STIR.]

I have no reason to trust Lobo, but he can’t fake the aggressive, defiant tone in his voice. It’s his default setting in response to a threat. I alert Gussie and Demos and Lightning.

[What is happening?] Lightning’s purr is sleepy still.

Lobo growls in our minds. [Nice of you to join us.]

[Hosting is exhausting! Not to mention I had to carry the beast host duties, no thanks to you…]

I interrupt Lightning’s complaint. [He’s making up for it now. A human guest is here who isn’t supposed to be here.]

Lightning’s tone sharpens. [A guest? How odd. We should alert–]

[No. STAY DOWN.] Lobo is insistent. [This guest is up to no good. He smells rotten, Rancid.]

My sniffer confirms Lobo’s revolting discovery. Whoever the guest is, he apparently just went dumpster diving. I try not to gag from the stench.

[Do you know him?] I ask.

[YES.] Lightning and Lobo answer in unison. [He’s an ill wind that blows. Stay down. Play dead.]

I fall silent, as instructed, and hope Gussie remains on her perch. She’s brash and brazen and foolish where her friends and our tamers are concerned.

Who is this stinky guest? What does he want? Nothing good, I suspect, if my instincts and my friends’ information are any indication. I even trust Lobo in this regard, because he’s putting his threat to ruin my life on the back burner because of this uninvited visitor.

CLOMP. CLOMP. The footsteps are getting closer. Wouldn’t you wear shoes that don’t sound like jackhammers if you wanted to slip in unnoticed?

Keeping my head down and my eyes closed, I pretend to be dead to the world.

Seriously? My nose feels a tickle from the grass. Or from one of the smells in the room. Or maybe from Sir Stinky’s stench. This is one of those cliches from TV and movies where someone has to stay hidden and keep quiet, and then sneezes at the worst possible moment.

I lift my nose slightly, away from the potentially sneeze-producing grass. Then, I hold still. The urge to sneeze passes. Phew.

CLOMP. CLOMP. CLOMP.

Getting closer now. Closer. Oh. The footsteps stopped right beside me.

Ugh! I try not to gag from the odor. Someone get this guy some deodorant.

Hands reach out. Oh h*ll no! You don’t have the right to put your hands on any beast in this room, whoever you are.

Your hands are on me! NO! KALINE! HELP!

She can’t hear me, but maybe my distress will wake her up. I feel a deep sense of quiet and calm at the moment. Happiness. How can she be happy when I’m in danger?

And being lifted up!

Where are the servants monitoring the Beast Wing? Did this guy just pay them to look the other way? Are they on a smoke break?

Leather gloves hold me tight, and I can’t hold back any longer. I open my eyes and bite the gloved fingers.

The gloves are cheap goods, because my fangs cut right through them like plastic wrap.

“AAAAAH!”

The man’s shriek is music to my ears, but that’s only the beginning.

The minute he cries out, all the beasts wake up, and all h*ll breaks loose. Exceptionally loud, too. Deafening. A cacophony of animal growls, shrieks, howls, lots, and other noises. Gussie screams, “BAD MAN! BAD MAN!”

“Be quiet, you lot,” the man says in a thick voice. “You should all have been too exhausted and too drugged to move. SOMEONE failed in the kitchens, and they shall pay. But for now, I’ll take my leave with Riddlehoeven’s prize.”

Drugged! No wonder we felt so tired! But not nearly enough.

[Get him!] That either comes from Lobo, Lightning, or Demos. Or all three.

My fellow beasts pile on as best they can, biting, clawing, pecking, and attacking. They should get hazard pay just for the stench. I chew on Sir Stinky’s repugnant limb. He doesn’t work out, as far as I can tell.

Lobo screams in agony. Sir Stinky has just thrown him off, and he seems to hang in the air before he plummets to the ground.

[NO! Lobo!]

The animals all cease their attack, and Sir Stinky seizes his chance. He breaks free and runs for what looks like a side exit.

“You stupid beast,” he hisses. “Come with me or your friends and that little girl of yours will get hurt. You saw what happened to the wolf.”

Noooo! Don’t hurt Kaline or any other beasts. I go limp in his arms while he sprints from the scene of the crime.

Someone stop him! I’ve got to figure a way out of this.

As despicable as it was for the lady poacher to go after us, I had more respect for her. At least in the wild, Demos and I could be considered fair game. But this? This is out of bounds!

He threatened every beast here. I know that Demos and Gussie and Lightning would still pile on the guy. So would Demos’ pal Ursula, and Gussie’s hawk pal, whose name I can’t remember. Even Lobo would. This thief has just insulted his house and his mistress.

We’re almost to the side door. How did he know about it? And where are the servants?

Why me, specifically? Why did he take me? Does this have something to do with the thefts into Memo and Judo? Or maybe our investigation? But how would he know about that?

Not that I can ask him! I can’t even telepathically communicate with him. Although his mind would probably be a dark and dangerous and possibly filthy place…

[BLAZE! Get away!]

Lightning’s voice is urgent, battering at my resolve.

[I can’t. He threatened all of you. I won’t let any of your get hurt!]

Lightning is insistent. [There’s dozens of us and only one of him! We can take him.]

[Never mind that. Find the servants!]

[Oh. Yes.]

I can’t see Lightning because Sir Stinky is closing in on the side door. Primal Beast, I hope she’s gone to find the servants and the Lammermoors’ version of Ser Maartenwitz.

[Demos! Can you wake Mistress Vedette?]

[Trying.] He concentrates. His voice is strained. [Wake up, wake up, wake up…AH! Got her! Just let me explain that WE’RE IN DANGER…]

I shiver. Anyone who abuses his hosts’ trust, breaks into a roomful of beasts, and takes one of them hostage is capable of anything.

[On her way,] Demos reports. [Coming. Getting help.]

It may be too late. Sir Stinky pushes open the door, wedges his leg in the opening, and slips through while keeping an iron grip on yours truly.

Cool air blasts my face, but we’re not outside. We’re in some kind of a breezeway, and the cool air is blowing from the opposite end where moonlight paints the opening in silver. With a grub of satisfaction, Sir Stinky moves toward the exit, a silken predator.

Maybe I can get away once we’re outside! I’ve got to do something while i’m waiting for help. I’ll only get one shot at this!

When we step outside, the kidnapper turns to me and says with a triumphant smile…

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