Bet that ninja outfit was a whole lot of protection.
But even as I gloated the one by my window moved closer. I had a brief glimpse of the possum hefting up its walking staff and—
THWACK !
Tiny cracks blossomed in my side window.
That started the dogs to howling, dancing in the back seat and farting for all they were worth. I swore and swerved again, pressing on the accelerator, but the rats stayed right next to the van.
I glanced down at the speedometer. Sweetmother of—Where were the police? Normally I’d have a small army of Toledo PD on my ass waiting to write me six tickets for going this fast. But noooo—never one when ya—
The possum jumped on the hood.
One little claw grabbed the windshield wiper, and his other held that damn staff. He was grinning that toothy grin again, chanting something muffled by the glass. The staff started to glow. Not good, not good. I panicked. I wanted him off the glass, off the—
I hit the washer.
Blue fluid squirted up under his chin. WHAMP went the wipers, and the possum went flying off to the side, with any luck possum pie by the road.
One of the ninja rats lunged and caught him by the tail just before he hit the ground.
My heart was pounding in my throat. For an instant, the possum was swinging from his tail, spitting out washer fluid and pointing at me. Then with a flip, he landed on the back of the rat, and they fell away from the van, moving over a lane. They all did.
“Wan,” I said nervously. “Wan, I think . . . ”
Wan was talking into my phone excitedly in what sounded like Chinese.
“English, Wan!” I shouted. The possum was gesturing at the front of the van, and pointing at the—
BHAM.
The front tire blew.
The dogs were howling, Wan was howling, hell I was probably howling but I didn’t care, My only focus was to control the van, and my teeth rattled with the effort.
The noise was terrific, the rubber from the tire flying in every direction. Sparks fountained up from the rim and my poor old minivan was steering like a dead cow. With metal screaming, the hot smell of rubber and dog farts, the van went off the side, over the brim and down to rest at an angle off the road.
The air bag exploded, punching me in the face. The silence was eerie as it deflated and I unwrapped my hands from the wheel. “Is everyone—”
CRACK!
The possum shattered my window.
I covered my head instinctively as bits of safely glass exploded into the Van. I could barely hear Wan over the howling of the dogs, because I was completely focused on the rat snarls as they reached for me. Their claws sank into the arm of my bathrobe and my flesh as they tried to pull me out through the window.
Sorry boys, my fat middle-aged butt wasn’t budging. They could tug and pull all they wanted—
One of them reached in and opened the van door. A sharp blade appeared and sliced through my seat belt.
I fell out, onto the ground. The rats grabbed my robe and dragged me away from the van through the wet grass. The dogs howled and I had just enough time to pray they stayed in the van when I was dropped to the ground.
I looked up to find myself surrounded by man-sized ninja rats. The possum perched on one’s shoulder, glaring down at me. I took a deep breath, then wished I hadn’t. That possum wasn’t man-sized but he still stunk to high heaven. Ugh.
“You have offended, fat one. Now you die.”
The rats all pulled daggers.
Er. I blinked up at him, confused. What about threats, rantings, that kind of thing? I mean, really . . .
“She dies, you die.”
We all looked to see Wan standing on the seat of the car, backlit by the dome light of the minivan. Wisps of fog were gathered around his feet. He had his sword out and pointed at the ninjas. “Move away from her if you value your lives.”
It would have been very impressive had he been more than a few inches tall.
The rats chuckled, and even I smiled. Wan looked so earnest, standing there with his sword in his hand.
“She dies,” the possum laughed. “And then we beat the information out of you, traitor.”
Okay, not so funny now.
I leaped up, dodged one of the rats and hit the possum right on the snoot. Impressed?
The only problem is it didn’t happen that way. My middle-aged fat body wouldn’t leap up for nothing. So I did the best I could. I kicked one of the rats right on the shins. Smartly.
He dropped his knife and clutched his leg. Some ninja.
All eyes were focused back on me. “Kill her,” the possum snarled.
Wan squeaked his battle cry and darted forward, but that whole man-sized-rat thing was working against him. I tried desperately to crawl away, my robe catching under my knees. The rats laughed, my cowardly dogs howled from the van, and I was sure I was dead.
One rat grabbed my shoulder and flipped me over, his teeth and knife gleaming. He was bringing the knife up to plunge into my stomach. I watched in horror as the gleaming blade arched over me.
There was a crackling flash, a stench of sulfur, and one dead rat falling down on top of me. The lightning caught him right in the chest.
I scrabbled back, trying to get out from under the smoldering, twitching corpse without throwing up. As my legs slipped clear, more bolts shivered over my head, seeming to almost hang in the air before striking the rats. I pressed myself flat to the grass and risked a glimpse.
It was the doctor from the ER.
He looked taller somehow, his white lab coat glowing and his stethoscope swinging wildly around his neck. The street lights reflected off his high forehead, and his long grey ponytail swung behind him.
He looked damn fine, to my way of thinking.
The fact that he was standing with both feet firmly braced as he flung lightning at the rats with ease also worked for me.
The rats were diving for cover, throwing themselves to the ground to hide behind the motorcycles they’d left scattered around.
The possum went for my van.
I felt the pressure of tiny paws on my shoulder and a whisper in my ear. “Stay down, Kate. I will protect you.”
“The dogs,” I screamed, trying to climb to my feet. My slippers slipped on the grass.
The doctor heard me. With a flip of his wrist, he sent a bright blue ball our way, floating, zeroing in on us like a missile. It zipped past my shoulder, and for a brief moment light flared around me. When it faded, I was pinned under the weight of a man-sized mouse, standing on my back.
Needless to say, the rats were focused on the doctor. Their tails lashing, hissing, regrouping to attack him. I’d be okay. “Wan, please,” with what little breath I had, I begged. “Save my babies.”
Wan hesitated, then to my utter relief charged the van, sword in hand, his battle cry more impressive now. The possum had climbed in the driver’s seat, but his head turned to look at the angry man-sized mouse charging his way.
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 bright 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 laying 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, mout
h, 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 a 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 in 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 frenchroast.
Warm. I was warm as well, laying 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 emphasized 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, coffeepot in hand. I opened my mouth, but he shook his head as he poured. “Eat first. Argue later.”
I glared at him over the rim of my mug. “Shower first. I can eat 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 b
y.” 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 that 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, Dr. 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 like I’d somehow missed an important part of that conversation.
“Magic exists.” Mac said.
My forkful of eggs poised 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—”
The Best Paranormal Crime Stories Ever Told Page 31