Stephanie looked at her, feeling the residue of too much adrenaline still burning through her. It wouldn’t be much longer before she started to shake, she reflected, but something about Gwendolyn bothered her. There was a flicker of uneasiness, as if something wasn’t quite right. It was almost like….
Of course something isn’t “right,” you dummy! she told herself. Someone just tried to mug you all and kidnap Lionheart!
She snorted mentally at the thought. She was pretty sure she was still feeling the echoes of Lionheart’s emotions along with her own, which probably helped to account for at least some of the tension jangling down her nerves. And whatever else might be true, Gwendolyn Adair was nothing like Tennessee Bolgeo, no matter how frazzled her nerves might be at the moment! Besides—
“I’m quite sure they would have thought of it as stealing him, not a kidnapping, Ms. Harrington,” another voice said, and she turned to find yourself facing a man who looked so much like an older version of Gwendolyn that she knew instantly he must be the Earl of Adair Hollow. Now he shook his head, his expression regretful in the bright lights his security personnel and the police were stringing up around the crime scene.
“Like Gwen, I’m terribly sorry that this could have happened to you here at the Charleston Arms,” he said sincerely, holding out his hand to her. She shook it almost dazedly, and he extended it to her parents, in turn. “I assure you that we usually take much better care of our guests,” he told them.
“These guests seem to have turned out to be able to take care of themselves, George,” Gwendolyn pointed out, and he smiled slightly.
“Indeed they do,” he agreed and shook hands with Karl. “Nicely done, Mr. Zivonik! In fact, all of you did remarkably well…including you, Lionheart.”
The earl went down on one elegantly tailored knee, showing rather more aplomb—and nerve—than most of the security and police personnel had as he extended his open palm to the bloodstained treecat. Lionheart cocked his head, looking at him for a moment, then laid his own three-fingered true-hand on the exposed palm. The earl stayed that way for several seconds, then nodded courteously to the treecat and stood.
“I realize this wasn’t exactly the beginning of the evening you had in mind when we invited you,” he told his guests. “Nonetheless, I do hope you’ll honor us with your company after all. I deeply regret having been out of the Star Kingdom until tonight, and I would consider it a personal favor to have the opportunity to speak with all of you—and especially you and Lionheart, Ms. Harrington.” He smiled winningly at Stephanie. “Speaking on behalf of the Foundation, I believe this may be the beginning of a long and close relationship.”
* * *
Climbs Quickly rode on his two-leg’s shoulder as she, Shadowed Sunlight, and her parents moved towards the enormous living place. The echoes of combat still reverberated deep inside him, and he forced himself to draw a deep mental breath as he fought to damp them out.
It was hard, and not least because yet again he had discovered evildoers among the two-legs. He had no idea exactly what these evildoers had had in mind, but did it matter? How was he to convince the rest of the People that they could truly trust the two-legs when things like this kept happening? And did even the two-legs around him truly know what had just happened and why? The mind-glows were so brilliant, and so roiled by the two-legs’ reactions, that he could taste very little of their deeper emotions, and he reminded himself not to read too much into that stormy sea feelings. There was a great deal of shock in most of them—and almost as much anger as shock, in some—and the intensity of it all made his head ache.
And, oddly enough, the two who seemed angriest of all were the ones who were clearly in charge of all the other two-legs in this living place. Perhaps, as its elders, they felt a special responsibility for what had almost happened? That much, at least, would make sense.
* * *
“Well, that didn’t work out very well, did it?” Oswald Morrow muttered as he and Gwendolyn followed Adair Hollow and the Harringtons across the park.
“No, it didn’t,” she conceded with an icy smile which contained very little humor.
At least she didn’t have to be concerned about anything leading back to her. She’d hired the thugs through an anonymous electronic intermediary. All they’d known was that someone was prepared to pay them upwards of a quarter million Manticoran dollars if they could deliver the treecat to him. They’d been informed that they would receive the location for the delivery once they had proof the treecat was in their possession. Nothing had been said one way or the other about the humans in the treecat’s vicinity, although given the caliber of her disposable henchmen she’d anticipated a certain amount of serious injury.
Of course, she’d also anticipated that they would never get off the Charleston Arms’ grounds with their prize. The access code she’d provided them with had gotten them in through the facility’s security, but their mysterious employer had obviously missed the fact that getting out again required a different code entirely. Besides, if things had gone properly, they would have been in no condition to think about going anywhere.
Anything that could hold a hexapuma at bay even briefly should have made short work out of shredding faces and throats with gory abandon, and that was exactly what she’d expected. What she’d planned on. Who would ever have imagined the treecat would show such restraint? Especially when Gwendolyn had gone to the trouble of making sure Stephanie’s parents would be present for the event. If anything could have been calculated to send her into a panic and goad Lionheart into an…extreme reaction, that should have done it. But had he cooperated? No, of course he hadn’t!
“Countess Frampton’s not going to be very happy about this,” Morrow whispered as they approached the restaurant’s front steps. She shot him a venomous glance, and he shrugged. “At least I’ll be able to tell her it wasn’t my fault,” he said.
“Well, she’s just going to have to be unhappy then, isn’t she?” Gwendolyn replied sharply. “It didn’t work out as planned, but the fact that the little monster didn’t kill anyone isn’t going to get anywhere near as much coverage as we’d have gotten if he had killed someone.” She showed her teeth in another humorless smile. “Like I said before, it’s not like we would’ve changed the Foundation’s mind whatever happened, and I should be able to spin the ‘exotic animal poacher’ threat in a way to help encourage the protective reservation mindset. It’ll be a harder sell, of course, but I’ve had lots of practice managing Cousin George and his little band of philanthropists. And sweet little Stephanie and Karl are going to go home thinking of me as their friend. That offers all kinds of possibilities, don’t you think?”
Morrow started to reply, but they’d reached the stairs, and he contented himself with a short nod before the two of them started up.
Chapter Nineteen
Anders commed Jessica the morning after they’d found Survivor’s clan and caught her finishing up her morning chores.
“I’ve been looking at maps, Jess,” he began excitedly. “I didn’t realize how much of the unburned land east of the mountains is already in use by humans, and I’m guessing that population pressure’s definitely part of the picture with those tree cats.”
“Interesting. Link me to your map.” When she’d had a chance to look at it, she said, “I see what you mean, but there’s still a lot of unclaimed land.”