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“That will look lovely carved on your tombstone.”
We brush past docile deer and peacocks, plus small gaggles of nervous, drunk partygoers with their hands out in front of them like they’re playing Blind Man’s Bluff. What bothers me is that we haven’t seen the really heavy predators yet. Lions or tigers. They must be off somewhere waiting for the right moment to pounce. I like cats and don’t want to hurt one, but I will beat a lion to death with a shark if it tries to take a bite out of me.
Allegra grabs my arm and pulls me down one of the winding side paths.
“There,” she whispers, pointing.
About ten yards ahead of us is a holy-shit real-life goddamn tiger. It looks as big as a blimp and more hard-core than the Terminator. And it’s in hunting mode—head down, haunches up, low to the ground. It’s creeping toward a couple of blindfolded women in slinky silk designer gowns. Both wear long gloves and matching mink stoles. They hold hands as they go, each trying to help the other stay upright.
Part of me wants to grab Allegra and run, but another part wants to keep an eye on the women. A couple of panicking dumbasses punching each other or falling on a porcupine is one thing, but Tigger here means business and the Shining twins up there have no idea what’s going on right near them.
“Can we get closer?” says Allegra.
“You go on. I’m fine back here.”
“I really want to do this.”
“Here’s your chance.”
“You’re going to protect me, right?”
“Define ‘protect.’”
“You’re not going to let it eat me.”
“Not all of you. That’s a promise.”
She takes a couple of steps closer to the cat. I’m still near enough that I can grab her if all hell breaks loose. But I’m more worried about the morons up ahead. I’d do something, except I remember something from TV or a movie. It’s that tigers don’t attack from the fro
nt. They’re ambush predators. They attack from behind. As long as the Shining twins keep facing the tiger and don’t get too close, they’ll probably be all right. Besides, they chose to be here. I’m more worried about Allegra’s doing something dumb. She closes in on the tiger, puts out a hand, then falls back with me again.
“I can’t,” she says. “I want to, but I just . . . and I want you to do some magic to make it tame, but then what’s the point of petting a tiger?”
“Do you want to leave?”
She shakes her head.
“No. I’m going for it. You’ve got my back, right?”
“As long as I don’t get scared and run away, sure.”
She keeps her eyes on the cat.
“Okay. Here I go.”
I keep my hand about an inch behind her back so I can grab her fast. I have a feeling that with the mood Tigger is in, the moment Allegra touches it we’re clearing out of here and fuck the twins and the others. They want to be Tiger Chow? Let them. I’ll drop Allegra at Vidocq’s and head home for drinks with Cary Grant and His Girl Friday.
Allegra is just inches from the tiger’s rear end.
Ahead, one of the Shining twins laughs. The voice bothers me. From behind them, a woman yells, “Wait for me, Janet.”
She stops and spins around, turning her back on the tiger.
After that, it all happens fast.
I shove Allegra to the side and bark some Hellion hoodoo. The tiger crashes to the pavement with a deafening roar. The twins rip off their blindfolds. One of them I don’t recognize, but the other is definitely Janet. Goddamn “I have a late class tonight.” They take a couple of startled steps back when she—they—see Tigger. But it’s not interested in them anymore. It knows I’m the one who fucked up its lunch. I get Allegra behind me, but Janet and the other woman are frozen where they are. There aren’t any shadows deep enough here to get behind and snatch them free. I pull the Colt from my waistband, but Allegra grabs my arm.
“No! It’s not its fault.”
