Stacy raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be dog howling?" she teased.
I shrugged, but didn't stop my melodious meowing. "Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow-mix, we deliver!"
Our noise was enough to wake the dead and drowned out the noise from an atomic bomb. The men used their fists and elbows to bash away at the plate, and in a matter of seconds the floor door fell into itself and lodged down a circular shaft. Stacy listened with one ear on the door and the other deaf with our noise. She tensed and stopped pounding. "Trouble!" she hissed.
The men grabbed the plate, yanked it back up into place, and sat clumsily in front of the broken floor. I rolled my eyes at their hastily thought plan, grabbed Stacy's wooden legs, and stomped over to Luke. I gave him a good whack on the head, and he rubbed the sore spot and looked up at me in astonishment. "Whose side are you on?" he accused me.
"Not yours, that's for sure!" I loudly proclaimed. By this time I heard the square peephole door slide open behind me.
"What are you doing now?" the guard growled.
I spun around and wagged a leg at him. "Do you think I like being stuck in here with these guys?" I hissed back. I marched over to the door and pounded a leg against it so hard it splintered. "That's what I think of your groups and about your werewolf superiority! I've been stuck as one of you for over a month and I'm already sick of all these politics and messy alliances! You hear me? Sick of it!" I bashed another leg over the peep hole and the guard shut it.
The guard swung it back open and glared at me. "If that's how you feel then scream all you want. I won't be back." He slammed the small slot shut and marched away.
I breathed a sigh of relief and my shoulders slumped. "I'm not getting paid enough for this," I quipped.
Luke stood and smiled at me. "You're a good actress." He rubbed his head and winced. "You even had me convinced for a second."
I tossed aside the remaining legs, crossed my arms, and shrugged. "I had to do something to keep them away. We don't want them looking through that thing a second after we're gone and catching us again," I pointed out.
Alistair and Baker quietly pulled the plate from the hole and we all glanced down. The rounded walls were fashioned out of plaster and a metal ladder led down into the darkness. I looked around at the men and sheepishly grinned. "For once I don't think I want it to be ladies first," I told them.
"I'll go first," Baker offered. Before anyone could suggest drawing straws, which was a good thing because we didn't have any straws to draw, he slipped down the ladder and out of sight. His clanking feet told us he was still alive, and in a few seconds there was a splash. "Looks like a sewer. Better be prepared for some shit ahead," he called to us.
I rolled my eyes. "The one time he tries to be funny it's a farmer's joke," I muttered.
Alistair was next, followed by Stacy. I grabbed Luke's shoulders and tried to shove him down ahead of me. "Come on, don't be a chicken," I scolded him when he grabbed my arms and stopped my pulling.
"You first," he ordered.
I put on my best pouting face. "How come you always get to be the last man standing?"
"Because you're a woman, and a very beautiful one at that, so I don't want anything to happen to my beautiful mate. Now get down there." He picked me up and lowered me feet-first into the hole. I clung to the ladder and glared up at him after he let me go.
"You're pushy, you know that?" I asked him.
"I learned from the best, now climb," he commanded me.
My mature response was to stick my tongue out at him and scurry down the ladder. I hit water before I hit the bottom rung, and shuddered when something dark and globular touched my leg. We had climbed down into a large sewer culvert with water dripping from the round ceilings and a smell so rancid I wondered if all the city had eaten only breakfast bean burritos over the last few years as a joke on us.
Alistair politely grabbed my waist and set me into more filthy water. My hero. My werewolf sense of smell was nearly overloaded by all the wonderful scents of an entire city focused on flushing the toilet. The smell rose up like the ghost of past Christmas dinners. I clapped my hand over my nose and shuddered.
"Breathe through your mouth," Stacy suggested.
"I'm seriously thinking about cutting off my nose," I mumbled through my hand.
Luke hurried down after me and splashed into the water. "Do you mind? I'm trying not to swim in this stuff," I hissed at him.
"We may have to if we come to a deep pool," he pointed out. He waded forward to where Baker's dark shadow stood a few yards down the pipe. "Well, it seems we have to guess which way to go," he mused.
"Not necessarily," Baker countered. He knelt down and I shuddered when he dipped his fingers in the water. "The water's heading that way, and that means the treatment plant is bound to be in that direction. If we can't find a manhole to climb out of we'll end up there."
I turned to Stacy, who looked as ill as me. "How far away is that?" I asked her.
"About fifty blocks," she replied.
I looked back to the men. "Um, I veto going that far."
Luke turned around and glanced up at our escape hatch. "I'm sure we'll find a manhole sooner rather than later, but what I'm worried about is them finding us. We have to get moving." He sloshed downstream and the rest of our damp group followed. It was slow going because even with our wolf vision there was little light to see more than a few yards ahead of us. I groped along the wall until I touched something I could only describe as this-will-haunt-me-in-my-dreams disgusting and decided Luke's shoulder looked a lot more tempting, and clean. I shuffled through our little crowd and clutched onto him.
"Wonderful vacation spot, darling. We should take our travel agent out and shoot him," I quipped.
"I couldn't agree with you more, but I hope we can cut our vacation short in a few minutes," he replied. He glanced up and frowned. "If we don't find our way out of here soon we'll be driven mad by these smells."
"I'm already mad, but about more than just the smells." I shuddered when something brushed against my legs. "Any way you want to reenact a scene from all those mushy romance novels and carry me?"
He turned, looked me over, and smiled. "But you look lovely in brown."
I scowled at him. "I look better under the sun."
"I may be able to oblige you," Alistair spoke up. He sloshed over to the wall and gestured to an alcove in the wall. A ladder led up to a few small holes of moonlight. Freedom and fresh air lay beyond that dirty, heavy manhole cover. Alistair turned to me with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Perhaps the men should go first."
"Oh hell no. Ladies first this time," I argued.
"I should go first," Stacy suggested. "I know the city much better than you and can tell where we are."
I had a really great counterargument set up, something along the lines of if-there-isn't-any-oncoming-traffic-I-don't-care, when there was a loud noise behind us. It sounded like the splashing of a half dozen guards sicked on us by Cranston to drag us back to that horrible white room. That, or the sewer alligators had found us. "All right, but if you don't move fast I'm climbing over you," I told her.
We hurried up the ladder with the men close behind. Stacy removed the manhole, stuck her head out, and then climbed into the fresh air. The manhole opened up onto a side street a dozen blocks from Stacy's dad's house. As I was making my escape from the sewer of stink I heard a commotion below me and glanced down. Luke was grappling with a few dark shadows and Alistair dropped off the ladder to help. The pair and the guards dunked and punched each other, and it looked bad for my mate until Baker joined the brawl. He landed on two of them, and Luke and Alistair took care of two themselves. Then they hurried up and joined us in the clean world.
"We need to hurry. They'll be able to trace our scent by following the stench," Luke told us.
"Hurry to where?" Baker challenged him. He opened his arms and gestured to our surroundings. We stood in a narrow alley between two tall fences that stretched
for most of the block. Trash cans stood beside the few gates and the din of the city sounded far off. "The city's big, but Cranston has Stevens under his control and that means he's got a tight fist on everything."
"Not entirely," Stacy spoke up. "I rent an apartment my father doesn't know about, and what my father doesn't know about then Cranston doesn't know about."
"An apartment for what?" Luke asked her.
Stacy smiled and shrugged. "Oh, just exchanging some favors from my network, and a girl has to have a place where she can be alone."
"Lead us to it, then, before our stench leads them to us," Baker demanded.
"And we'd better avoid a taxi. They might have the wrong armband," I added, much as I regretted to remind everyone. My feet ached to be free of my wet, soggy shoes.
16
Stacy led us out of the alley and down every side street in the city. We zigged and zagged, jumped over fences, through yards, between tall office buildings, and past buildings that advertised women on the sidewalks. Luke stayed close to me and eyed every stranger with suspicious jealous. I was flattered, but a little disappointed to find such depressing quarters in this werewolf city. I had hoped this new society I lived in was better than the old.
"The more things change the more they stay the same," I muttered.
"How's that?" Luke whispered to me.
I gestured to the decrepit buildings. "I saw these in my old home."
Luke sighed. "I'm sorry to say that changing a man into a wolf doesn't help his civilization."
It was in one of those crummy neighborhoods that Stacy finally turned off the sidewalk and guided us up the stoop of a dilapidated apartment building. Half the windows were broken, the bricks were chipped, and the old door looked about ready to disintegrate on its rusted hinges.
Luke tilted his head back and looked over the fine bit of crumbling architecture. "I would never have imagined you staying here," he mused.
Stacy smirked. "Neither would my father, and that's why I chose it." She pulled a key from a false brick in the wall to her left and opened the door. We followed her inside, and the lobby was as shabby as the outside. The rugs were smelly and rotten, the walls were full of mildew, and the steps that led up to the other floors looked about ready to fall under the strain of decades of termites. A desk stood to our left with an old gentleman seated on a stool behind it. His full attention was on the paper spread out in front of him.
Stacy walked up to him, and the man twitched his nose and glanced up. "You've gotten yerself into a bad mess, haven't ya?" he mused.
Stacy laughed. "Guess that from the smell?" she wondered.
"No, the look of the party ya have there. They look like something the cat's dragged in, if ya werewolves will excuse the expression."
Luke smiled and shook his head. "We do look and smell pretty bad," he agreed.
"That's an understatement, but were ya wanting something?" he asked Stacy.
"A warning. Some men might be coming after us. Some of the peace patrols," she told him. "If you see them, will you ring my apartment?"
The old man leaned over the desk and squinted. "Something happen to yer father?" he wondered. Stacy's face fell and she nodded her head. "Anything I can do?"
"You can alert us to the patrols, and if you get a message for me send it right up," she added.
"How'd you guess it was about her father?" Baker spoke up. His eyes were narrowed and he looked unkindly at the desk clerk.
The old man chuckled. "Nobody else but her father handles the patrols. If they're after her then that means something's happened to him."
"We're not sure what's wrong, but even if my father is with them don't let them up," Stacy told him.
The old man frowned, but nodded. "Ah'll do what I can," he promised. He dug beneath the desk and pulled out a thick silver key. "And enjoy yer stay."
Stacy took the key from him and smiled. "Thanks, Rick. I owe you one."
"When yer out of this mess Ah'll take a nice dinner," he requested.
Stacy laughed. "Done. Come on, group. I'm dying to get out of these clothes."
Stacy guided us up the rickety stairs to the fifth floor. That was the top, and I prayed I wouldn't fall through the rotten floor to the lobby below. At each landed we got a glimpse of the halls, and those were filled with holes in the walls and battered doors. At the top of the stairs the landing was shut off from the rest of the floor by four walls, and we were presented with a steel door and a heavy lock. Stacy pulled out the key given to her by Rick and opened the lock. She swung the door open and revealed a new, and clean world.
The whole floor was one giant apartment complete with skylight above for maximum sun and wood floors that stretched across the whole place. There were a few windows on both sides with strips of plastic etched with designs to fake broken panes. The walls were a shimmering white, and there was a large living room with an up-to-date kitchen. Halls on both sides led to bedrooms, each with their own bathrooms. Stacy strolled in with us close behind and our mouths trailing. "Try not to get too much grime on the furniture. The maid only comes once a week. She's too afraid of the neighborhood to come any more often."
Luke looked around the place and smiled. "Now this is the Stacy I expected," he teased.
"A home away from home," Stacy agreed. She gestured to the living room and the many chairs. "But have a seat. I'll see what's in the fridge." Stacy shed her coat, ran her hand through her mussed hair, and walked over to the kitchen.
"I could eat a whole cow," Baker mumbled as he made himself at home in a chair.
Luke joined him, but I stood to the side dreaming of those bathrooms. Alistair took a position close to one of the windows and glanced down on the crummy neighborhoods below. Luke turned to our hostess who was rummaging in the kitchen for food.
"What's this talk about Rick sending up messages? Does someone else know your address here?" Luke asked her.
Stacy walked over to us with a platter of roasted meat which she placed on the marble coffee table. I took a handful and everyone followed suit. "A few of my people in my Underground know this address, and they send me info on the latest news from the streets."
"Underground? Like the criminal world?" I guessed.
She smiled. "Some of my sources could be considered part of that group, but the messages are for me. They pass coded messages to me through a network of my informants. I can keep track of quite a bit in the city."
Luke chuckled. "So you're a ringleader of a spy syndicate?" he wondered.
Stacy crossed her arms and shrugged. "A girl has to have a hobby."
"This is all nice and good, but how does that help us deal with your father being controlled by Cranston?" Baker spoke up.
"It might not, but I know someone who can: Callean," Stacy suggested.
Luke and Baker choked on their food, and I frowned. "But you said he didn't want to get involved," I pointed out.
"Does anyone have a better idea?" she countered.
"What about just walking out of the city?" Baker argued. "No fuss, and no one knowing where we are, especially someone as likely to turn us in as help us."
"We could, but escape from the city wasn't what I planned. Since you've forgotten, my father happens to be a prisoner of our enemies, and I don't plan on leaving until I know he's safe" Stacy replied. "Callean can give us that safety. No one else has as much influence as my father except Callean." Baker frowned, but didn't argue.
"But how are we going to meet this Mr. Callean?" Luke wondered. "He's not an individual one can walk up to and have a private chat."
Stacy's lips curled up into a mischievous smile. "I happened to look at my father's mail the other day and saw an invitation to a masked ball tomorrow night," she told us. "Callean never misses a chance to show off his expensive tastes and will probably have a mask made of gold for the occasion."
"Silver not good enough for him?" I quipped.
"That was last year's costume. This year he'll outdo himself with gold
," Stacy replied.
"So we find some costumes, but how do we get in? It's an invitation-only affair, right?" Luke asked her.
Stacy sheepishly smiled. "That's something I haven't quite figured out."
"Or whether or not Callean will help us or turn us over," Baker persisted. He turned to Stacy. "I understand you wanting to help your father, but you're taking a risk with all of us by leading us to this man who might call the patrols on us."
"He won't do that. Callean doesn't want to deal with the patrols any more than we do," Stacy argued.
"So the worst he could do is toss us out on the streets where the patrols will find us?" I guessed.
"Exactly. Now isn't my father work risking a bruised bum?" Stacy asked him.
Baker sighed and stood. "I'll answer that after I've had a shower."
"That's the best suggestion someone's made all morning," I chimed in.
"Not a bad idea," Luke agreed.
"You boys can use the bathrooms on the right. Put your clothes in the wash machine behind that door-" she pointed at a door at the front of the right-hand hall, "-and you can wrap yourselves in towels until they're washed and dried."
We got down to the business of cleaning ourselves up, but my cleaning efforts were interrupted when the door to my bathroom opened. I was in the shower at the time and saw a figure standing beyond the fog. I wiped away some of the moisture on my side of the glass and saw Luke standing there wrapped only in a towel. I raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you?" I asked him.
"I thought we might be able to scrub each others' backs," he suggested.
I snorted. "I don't think that's the spot you want to scrub," I countered.
"You wouldn't leave your mate out here in the cold, would you?" he playfully pleaded.
The steam in the air was so thick I had to clean the glass again. "I've got this place warmed up to a hundred degrees. I don't think you'll catch a cold," I reassured him. He dropped the towel and stepped over to me. I blushed and pulled back so the glass was fogged again. "You have to focus, Luke. We just got out of a life-or-death situation only an hour ago."