52 - The Novel

  I just need a minute to recover, she thought. But Mannheim didn't let up.

  "Prophesy is upon you," the notorious mob boss preached. He seized her throat with both hands and, with unexpected strength, lifted her off the ground. Her boots dangled in the air as he throttled her. "With your death, Intergang's feast will truly begin." His cruel eyes gleamed with the murderous fanaticism of a true believer. "I shall devour you, just as the Red Rock and the Rage shall devour all of Gotham." His left hand dropped onto her chest, right above her heart. Powerful fingers dug into her costume. "So it has been written, and so it shall come to pass."

  "Too bad we're working from a different text," Batwoman whispered hoarsely.

  He gave her a puzzled look. " 'We?' "

  "She means us," Renee said. She and the Question rose up from behind a nearby pew. Renee's own ray gun was aimed right at Mannheim's skull. "Now put the Batwoman down and we won't have to vaporize your ugly ass."

  "The Questions?" he murmured in surprise. A look of utter consternation, and even confusion, came over his brutish face. He stared at Batwoman's backup like he couldn't believe his eyes. "No ... no, you can't be here, not yet. ..." He almost sounded as though he was having a crisis of faith. "The Questions have not yet been Answered!"

  Questions? Batwoman thought. As in plural?

  Before she could even begin to figure out what Mannheim was raving about, he suddenly hurled her at the Question and Renee. "Look out!" the faceless detective shouted at his partner. Renee tried to get a clear shot at Mannheim, but was blocked by Batwoman's flying body, which came tumbling through the air toward them. Renee cursed as she ducked out of the way.

  Taking control of her fall, Batwoman grabbed onto the back of an empty pew and flipped herself back onto her feet. Now that Mannheim was no longer strangling her, her strength was returning, so she hit the floor running and charged back toward the front of the cathedral. A scorch mark defaced the bat-emblem on her chest.

  "Stop him!" Renee hollered at her. Clutching her ray gun, she scrambled back up from the floor. "Don't let him get..."

  Too late. Batwoman's eyes searched the sanctuary and nave, but Mannheim was nowhere to be seen. He must have vanished down a side corridor while they were all distracted. She glanced around at the criminal casualties littering the church. At least he left some of his monsters and goons behind.

  "Away. ..Renee's voice trailed off. Scowling, she lowered her gun. "I hate it when they do that."

  "Tell me about it," Batwoman agreed.

  WEEK 30

  SOTHAWI CITY.

  Kate's penthouse apartment occupied the top two floors of a sleek high rise in one of Gotham's pricier neighborhoods. No doubt it was more private than the Kane family estate, which Renee definitely appreciated. She wasn't sure she could cope with too much company right now, let alone Kate's snooty parents. That would be a little more than I could handle, she thought. Not at a time like this.

  She and Kate watched anxiously from a doorway as Kate's cute young doctor friend practiced her bedside manner on Vic, who was resting uncomfortably in a spare bedroom. An oxygen rig was poised beside the bed, while a nasal cannula helped him breathe. A pitcher of water and a battery of pill bottles rested atop the bed stand. The doctor dutifully checked Vic's pulse. A stethoscope dangled around her neck.

  "So, does she make house calls for all her patients," Renee asked archly, "or is this a special arrangement between you and Mallory there?"

  Renee hated every minute of this. Hated that the cancer was eating Vic alive. Hated that/even with her best friend dying, she could still be jealous. Hated that all she had left was questions ... and not one good answer.

  "I'm not sleeping with her," Kate said, "if that's what you're asking."

  "No?" Turning away from the doorway, Renee wandered across the living room, which was stylishly furnished with black leather furniture, a platinum/ silver cocktail table, and mahogany bookshelves, "That wasn't the impression you gave me back in July."

  Kate looked annoyed. "I'm not the only one who was looking to score points that day."

  True enough, Renee admitted. "Doesn't matter." A framed photo on a mantle showed a shockingly young Kate posing in a West Point cadet's uniform. Renee picked up the photo. "How old are you in this?"

  Kate sighed. "I was nineteen." She took the photo from Renee and put it back down on the mantle. Her tone implied that it W'as ancient history.

  Renee wondered if Kate's West Point years had anything to do with her new career as Batwoman. So far Kate had not offered any explanation for why she had adopted the life of a masked vigilante, and Renee had not been pushy enough to pry. She had more important things on her mind these days. If Kate wants to play dress up at night and beat up bad guys, that's none of my business.

  Is it?

  "Kate?" Mallory joined them in the living room. Her annoyingly attractive face was grim. "I gave him some morphine to help with the pain. You're going to see the onset of delirium soon, with declining moments of lucidity." She placed her stethoscope back into a black leather bag. "You should consider admitting him to a hospital."

  "Why?" Renee challenged her. "So he can go and never come out?"

  Kate tried to calm her. "Renee ..." -

  "He might be more comfortable there, that's all," Mallory explained calmly. No doubt she was accustomed to patients and their loved ones reacting emotionally to terminal diagnoses. Renee remembered dealing with the families of murder victims back when she was still a cop. It was never easy.

  This isn't fair, she thought. We came back to Gotham. We saved Kate's life. But now it's costing Charlie his....

  Kate escorted Mallory to the door. "They're both staying here for now."

  "Then I'll see what I can do about setting up hospice care," the doctor volunteered. She gave Kate's hand a comforting squeeze. Renee pretended not to notice.

  She listened silently as Kate thanked Mallory and closed the door behind her. Renee stared forlornly out the window at the lights of the city. It was only six o'clock, but the sun was already going down. The smoggy haze of twilight blurred before her eyes as she fought back tears. Kate's graceful footsteps came up behind her.

  "I'll take him to the hospital tomorrow," Renee said, feeling crushed and defeated.

  "I already told you," Kate insisted. "You and Charlie can stay as long as you like."

  Renee turned away from the window. "I'm not going to impose any more than I already have...

  "You were evicted from your apartment," Kate pointed out impatiently. "You hadn't paid your rent in six months." She got right in Renee's face, so that their bodies were only inches apart. Her face flushed. "Where are you two going to go if you leave? You going to live out of Charlie's van?" She threw up her hands in frustration. "Stop being so damn stubborn. Just accept what I'm offering, all right?" She took a deep breath and let her temper cool. Her face and voice softened as her lustrous brown eyes implored the other woman. "Please, Renee."

  Renee's throat tightened. How could she turn down a plea like that, especially when it obviously meant so much to Kate? Her ex-lover was standing so close to her now that Renee could inhale her perfume. The intoxicating scent stirred her memory and her senses. Renee felt the blood racing through her veins. I've missed you so much, she thought. It was so tempting to reach out for her again, to look for comfort in her strong arms.

  "Okay," she whispered.

  Kate smiled, visibly pleased that Renee had seen sense. An endless moment hung between them as Renee waited expectantly for ... what? For a second chance? She gazed longingly into Kate's dark eyes. She held her breath. Her lips parted....

  "I have to go out," Kate said abruptly. To Renee's surprise (and disappointment), the other woman turned away and headed toward her private dressing room. "I won't be back until late."

  Oh right, Renee realized. Time for Batwoman to hit the streets. She imagined the ominous black cape and cowl descending over Kate's familiar face and figure. Glancing out the wi
ndow, she half expected to see the Bat-Signal shining in the night sky.

  "Don't wait up," Kate advised her.

  Renee swallowed hard, trying to conceal her bruised feelings. For a few moments there, she'd really thought something was going to happen between them. Guess that was just ivishful thinking on my part.

  She heard Vic stir in the spare bedroom and went to investigate. He managed to lift his head from the pillow as she entered. He wheezed as he spoke. "She going out to search for Mannheim again?"

  "Didn't ask," Renee answered.

  "You should always ... ask the next question," he said ha) Hngly.

  "Says the guy who never answers one." She grinned at him. It felt good to banter like this ... just like before. If it wasn't for his wasted appearance, she could almost pretend he wasn't dying. "You mind if I sit here for a while?"

  "I'm afraid I'm not... very chatty ... right now."

  "That's all right, Charlie." She assumed a lotus position upon the floor at il iv iTwvt v/f il iv. l/v-U. Ol lv. vlujvvl livi -y~a U i iiivUl cation. "Neither am I."

  Be careful out there, Kate.

  WEEK 31

  GOTHAM CITY.

  "This is me asking you nicely," Batwoman said, smashing the hoodlum's face into the windshield of a parked car. The window cracked loudly, a tracery of thin fractures spreading out from the point of impact like cobwebs. She grabbed onto the gangster's collar and tossed his unconscious body to the pavement. "Should I ask the rest of you meanl"

  Dirty slush was piled along the sides of the dingy alley. Icicles hung from the eaves' of darkened warehouses. An unmarked van was parked in front of an open loading dock; the crooks had been picking up an illegal arms shipment when Batwoman had ambushed them. She had taken out half the gang before the startled thugs even knew was happening. One mob lieutenant was already on the ground, clutching a broken arm. The hoodlum with the smashed face was sprawled in the icy slush. Only two more men remained on their feet.

  So far, so good, Batwoman thought. She reminded herself to leave at least one crook conscious enough to answer her questions. Fun's fun, but I want to get something out of this workout.

  Clothing shredded as the surviving hoodlums began to metamorphose into beast-men. Fur sprouted from their rippling flesh. Bones cracked noisily. Human canines and fingernails elongated into razor-sharp fangs and claws. One of the men took on the aspect of a Siberian tiger; the other assumed the form of a humanoid panther. They hissed and bared their fangs.

  Batwoman took the bizarre transformations in stride. By now, she had fought enough of Intergang's mutated monsters to become accustomed to their freakish appearances. According to Renee, some sort of arcane chemical potion was responsible for the gangsters' metamorphic MO. She braced herself for the cat-men's attack while hoping that their devolved vocal cords hadn't completely lost the capacity for speech. She was after bigger prey tonight.

  "Where's Mannheim?" she demanded.

  To her frustration, the beast-men merely growled in response. Their feline eyes looked past her, alerting her to some lurking danger. There must be another one behind me!

  She heard the wolf before she saw it. A growl came from the loading dock as, spinning around, she glimpsed a great black wolf lunging at her. Reacting instantly, she rolled across the hood of the car, barely dodging the wolf's attack. Its hot breath steamed in the cold night air. Sharpened claws sliced the fringe of her cape.

  Bad dog!

  The wolf landed on all fours, then sprang up onto its hind legs. Standing erect, the huge animal morphed into a slightly more humanoid form: half man, half wolf. Batwoman recognized Kyle Abbot from Renee's description. She drew a Batarang from its sheath within one of the scalloped fins of her right glove.

  "Mannheim isn't your problem," the wolf-man snarled. "That you continue to live defies the Word of Cain." Flanked by the tiger- and panther-man, he leaped at her, his claws extended before him. "And that cannot be allowed!"

  The Batarang flew from her fingers as she dived out of the way. The spinning missile caught the panther across the forehead, slicing open a cut that poured hot blood into his eyes, then ricocheted off the panther's skull to strike the tiger in the throat. The striped beast-man yelped and grabbed clumsily at his neck. The blinded panther flailed about wildly, trying to clear his vision. So much for those two, she thought, at least for the moment.

  Abbot charged past her, and she delivered a vicious kick to his side. He went careening off into the slush, barking like a rabid dog. He angrily wiped the wet snow from his fur as he jumped to his feet. Foam dripped from his curled lips. ■

  "My mistress has sent me to set right what you made wrong."

  Batwoman took Abbot's arrival as a sign that she was finally getting somewhere in her campaign against Intergang. She was moving up the syndicate's food chain. "That I'm alive is proof that your insane prophesy was wrong in the first place!" ,

  She figured she could take Abbot, one-on-one. Unfortunately, just at that moment, six more gang members came storming out of the warehouse. Tearing open their clothes, they were already in throes of their own transformations into bears, reptiles, apes, serpents, and God only knew what else. The desolate alleyway echoed with their chirps, growls, and roars. A lupine smile appeared upon Abbot's muzzle.

  "Perhaps," he remarked. The army of beast-men swarmed forward. "Take her heart for the Apostle!"

  That would be Mannheim, Batwoman guessed, suddenly finding herself severely outnumbered. She planted a heel into the shoulder of a bull-headed minotaur, then vaulted over the heads of the other monsters. Batarangs flew rapid-fire from her fingers. Landing on the ground behind the inhuman mob, she cast an irritated look up at the roof of the warehouse.

  "You going to lend a hand here," she called out, "or are you just planning on getting an eyeful?"

  So, she knew I was here all along, Nightwing thought. He looked down on the fracas from atop the warehouse. Impressive.

  ' Years ago, Dick Grayson had fought beside Batman as Robin, the Boy Wonder. Although he had long ago outgrown the role of a sidekick, he continued to fight crime as the costumed vigilante known as Nightwing. The bat-shaped mask affixed to his face and the somber tones of his dark blue and black uniform paid tribute to his legendary mentor, and he had both loved and lost Barbara Gordon, the original Batgirl. But he had no idea who this new Batwoman was.

  Eager to find out, he leaped from the rooftop like the trapeze artist he had once been. A grappling dart, fired by a C02-powered launcher in his gauntlet, embedded itself in the wall of a neighboring warehouse. Using the jumpline attached to the dart, he swung down into the fray. His heels crashed into the scaly skull of a human alligator even as Batwoman elbowed a slathering wart-hog in the throat.

  "You have to admit, it's quite an eyeful," he answered her. The downed alligator cushioned his landing as he dropped down onto the pavement. Batwoman cast an annoyed look in his direction, seemingly unamused by his quip. He shrugged apologetically. "What can I say? I've got a thing for redheads."

  Barbara had red hair... .

  "Trust me, I'm not your type," Batwoman informed him. She jumped above a gorilla-man's swinging arm, then snapped the toe of her boot into the ape's protruding jaw. Simian tusks shattered and the gorilla tumbled backward, head over heels.

  Hissing, a cobra-man reared up behind Batwoman, poised to strike. Its swollen hood flared dramatically. A forked tongue flicked between its curved fangs. Nightwing's own boot caught the man-snake right in the chin, causing its venomous jaws to snap shut. Back-to-back, the two vigilantes faced off against the shape-shifting hoods. He somehow sensed that he could trust her to watch his back. She fights like a real pro, he observed, like she's been doing this for years.

  His unexpected arrival was more than Intergang's pet monsters seemed inclined to deal with at the moment. Abandoning their stunned and injured comrades, the remaining creatures hastily made for the shadows. Webbed and taloned feet splashed through the slush and icy puddles. Leadin
g the retreat was a large black Wolf, which bounded out of the alley on all fours.

  "The wolf!" Batwoman shouted. "Don't let him escape!"

  Finishing off the punch-drunk gorilla, she started to pursue the werewolf, but the fleeing lycanthrope had already vanished from view. The sound of its racing footsteps were rapidly swallowed up by the noise of the nocturnal city. Batwoman dashed past Nightwing anyway, unwilling to accept that the wolf was probably long gone.

  "Whoa there!" Nightwing cautioned. He didn't want haste to make her careless; what if more monsters were lying in wait just outside the alley? He flipped the cobra over his shoulders onto the blacktop, then grabbed Batwoman by the arm. "You'll get another crack at him," he promised her. "Believe me, there's always a Round Two."

  They had plenty to deal with right here and now, making sure that the subdued beast-men were down for the count and wrapping them up nice and tight for the G.C.P.D. Besides, if truth be told, he was more interested in getting to know Gotham's latest self-appointed defender than rounding up a few more Intergang tough guys. Batman was still overseas, recovering from the Crisis, but Nightwing knew that Bruce would want a full report on this new Batwoman once he got back to Gotham. This was the Dark Knight's turf after all.

  Wonder what her story is. Nightwing thought. Gotham's crime-filled streets seemed to breed masked vigilantes on a regular basis. Besides Batman, there had already been four Robins, two Batgirls, and a Huntress. And who knew what side of the fence Catwoman was working these days. It's getting so you can't tell the players without a scorecard... .

  "Ahem." Batwoman stared pointedly at the hand on her arm.

  He smiled and let go. "Nightwing," he introduced himself. New York City was his usual stomping ground these days, but, with Bruce out of town, he had wanted to check on the situation in Gotham himself. "Pleased to meet you."