Sloanville Holiday

Part Eight


After their talk in the alley, Caine took Fraser out for a late supper. (Before you ask--*yes* Chinese food. Honestly, Siren...) He felt that our Mountie needed some time away from the crowd, and he had no way of knowing that Peter and Ray were already facing Vicky at the museum.

Okay, so he may have had *some* way of knowing, but he was too involved in the problem at hand to use it.

In any case, neither of them returned to Caine's place, where discussion of another sort was going on.

Dief yelped and glared accusingly at Donny. Anxiety crossed the face of the witness as he considered what damage those teeth could do to him if the wolf took it into his feral little mind to attack. "Sorry!" he exclaimed hurriedly. "I didn't know you were a family ma--uh, wolf. I'm sure kids are fine, once you get to know them..."

Lula's smug grin didn't help much, either.

Just then the Ancient returned to the room, a steaming bowl of soup in each hand. He gave one to each of the guests. "There you are," he said, smiling pleasantly. "Enjoy."

From the vicinity of the floor came a strangled whine so forlorn and full of pathos that Donny nearly choked on his first spoon of soup. This from a creature that, a second ago, might have swallowed Granny whole and tracked down a few pigs for dessert?

The Ancient shook his finger at the wily wolf. "None of that!" he admonished. "I have something else for you. Come with me."

Dief perked up, ears pricking to full attention even though he was supposedly deaf, and padded after the old man. Donny wondered what could be found in a Shaolin's house that would satisfy a carnivorous wild animal, then shivered and realized he probably didn't want to know. Not that he really believed Caine kept...things...around, but one could never be sure.

"Mmm, this is good stuff," Lula said, breaking into his thoughts. "Do you suppose he'd give me the recipe?" She downed another spoonful appreciatively.

"I don't see why n--" He hesitated. Was that a creaking on the fire escape he heard? He waited a few seconds, but whatever noise had attracted his notice didn't repeat itself. Just nerves, that was it. Hiding for your life will do that. He looked back at Lula, who was waiting for him to finish his sentence. "That is, unless it's some Shaolin secret, shrouded in mystery, handed down for generations," he concluded.

She snorted. "Right. Or it could be Campbell's Cream of Celery," she scoffed. "...Hey, I know it's not sparkling conversation, but you could at least pretend to be listening."

"Did you just hear something?"

"Yeah, it was me talking to myself. I don't know why I bother someti--"

"Shh!" She could be angry at him later. At the moment he was more concerned with listening for that telltale...

click

The bowl of soup shattered in his hands, splashing its contents over him, the floor, and several nearby plants. He froze, mind tricked for an instant into believing that the hot liquid had come from inside him and that he had been hit. Lula, under no such illusions, grabbed the front of his shirt and dragged him to the ground just as another shot rang out above their heads. The stink of gunpowder hung in the air as two more bullets zipped past.

A white blur streaked across the floor and he heard a savage growl that sent tingles up his spine and made him feel like the bottom of the food chain. He chanced a peek in the direction of the sounds and saw two hulking shapes on the balcony harried by a snarling bundle of teeth and claws. One of the men got off two more shots, both of which missed, before the wolf managed to grab his hand in powerful jaws, forcing him to drop the gun.

The other thug--and there was no disputing his status as a thug--tried to aim for the animal without hitting his partner, who was yowling in pain and trying to shake the wolf loose. Before he had a chance to fire, however, a hand came down hard on his wrist, causing his gun to fall.

Cursing loudly, the man threw a punch at the Ancient, who blocked it with an almost negligent wave of his arm. The man tried again, this time putting his whole weight into it. The Ancient caught his fist and, stepping out of the way, tossed him across the room where he crashed into a chair, knocking himself out cold.

The first man, meanwhile, had managed to dislodge Dief from his arm and was trying to back through the wall to get away from the snapping, fiery-eyed demon in front of him. The Ancient came calmly up beside him and pinched his neck. The man's eyes rolled up and he crumpled to the floor.

Dief sniffed him a few times to be sure he wasn't going anywhere, then, with no trace of the elemental fury he had shown mere moments before, leaned against the Ancient's leg for a rewarding scratch behind the ears.

Donny picked himself up from the mess, still shaking from the close call, and gave Lula a helping hand. His shoes crunched on the shards of the bowl and he shuddered.

The Ancient shuffled toward them, smiling. Dief followed at his heels, tail wagging happily. "Ah, I see you have had an accident," the old man said. "Would you like another bowl?"

Donny looked at the two thugs who had come to kill him and swallowed. "Uh, no offense," he said, "but I think I just lost my appetite."

End Part 8

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© 1995 Amparo Bertram