Raquel's Trade
Part Eleven: Super What??
by Doctor Mercurious
Author's Note: Super Collie, Zalika, Daughter Night and other unfamiliar characters and terminology mentioned as being part of the 'other universe' are the property of John R. Plunkett with honorable assists by Terry P. Knight , hands off! If you want to read more about them, go to http://www.furry.org.au/focault/Prose/Working/Super-Collie-Adventures_Preface.htm
PROLOGUE
The rhythmic banging against the door of the tomb was making it hard to concentrate. Only the unhappy knowledge of the horrors on the other side kept Tuth'kam hands scrabbling over the stone walls, desperate to finish the hieroglyphs before it was too lake. Ra, Horus and Osiris give me strength he pleaded. He'd never been the most powerful of sorcerers but he was all that stood in the way of these nameless horrors. He prayed it would be enough.
The final glyph was taking shape underneath his brush. Almost, the jackal thought. Just a little while longer...a large crack blossomed in the door. He didn't let himself be startled, couldn't let himself be, too much depended on his steady hands. The crack widened. "You cannot stop us," intoned a voice like rotted flesh from the other side. Tuth'kam didn't answer. The final stroke was upon him. Just...one...more....line.....a louder crack sliced through the air. He knew the door had been breached from the sound, but it didn't matter. The glyphs were finished. Tuth'kam wished he'd been able to make it impossible to rejoin the two sides of the tomb but, as the jagged claws reached for him, he was well-satisfied it would be the next best thing.
IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE
FRIDAY
(OR THURSDAY, TIME-ZONE DEPENDING)
It had been one of those days.
Arrival at work -- 6 AM. Three rush projects due. An arrogant contractor she'd had to be nice to because he was that good. Mix with a boss who'd been feeling bad-tempered. Shake for thirteen hours and serve slowly. Result: one very worn out collie.
Esmerelda Braithwaite shuffled into her overly modest New Zealand home. Somehow she managed to close and lock the front door before making her exhausted way to her couch in the living roof and flopping on it. Even she had her limits, and today had definitely come close to exceeding them. The collie put her feet up on her coffee table, wishing John were here to massage them. Pity he's locked himself up in his studio, she thought to herself. One of the problems of dating an artist; when the Muse bites, he's away for the duration. She let out a sigh. Guess it's a soak in the tub for me.
The idea of a nice hot bath perked her up a bit. Esmerelda left her clothes neatly folded in her bedroom, slipping on a green-colored robe; Esmerelda had never been comfortable with casual nudity. She made a quick pit stop to her kitchen for a glass of chardonnay and a plate of biscuits -- MilkBone, her guilty pleasure -- and then eased herself in and laid her head back, treats within easy reach. Normally if she was going to soak in the tub Esmerelda popped a CD in the player located on a shelf at the other side of the bathroom, but tonight she just wanted the sound of her own thoughts. Mmmm, she thought as she felt the caress of the warm bathwater, wishing John was here to share it with. A brief thought of pleasuring herself while fantasizing it was John flitted through her brain but the collie decided she was too sore; she tilted her head back, closed her eyes and lost herself in the sensation of warm, fragrant bubbles caressing her.
Something's not right.
The thought struck so suddenly Esmerelda wondered if it had originated with her. Her eyes snapped open. The bathroom looked the same on the surface, but darker as if the lights weren't working properly. Shadows collected in the corner, actually moving and twitching. The air developed a cloying odor.
Esmerelda wasn't as scared as someone else might have been, but then again that someone else wouldn't have also been Australia's top superheroine, Super Collie. She grabbed the Amulet of the Shepherd around her neck...and noticed that her left breast was covered in black fur instead of the normal white. The color alteration continued entirely on that side, a sharp diving line between herself and --
"Hello, Essie. Welcome to the Spirit World."
Esmerelda stared into a pair of warm golden eyes which belonged to the other woman now sharing her body. "Zalika?"
"In the flesh...or nearly so," the jackal said, lifting up what had been mere seconds ago Esmerelda's arm. "I'm very impressed; this spiritual joining is visible even in the real world. John's going to have a fit when he sees this."
"He's not here," she replied absently. The aches and pains on her left side had vanished when Zalika had assumed control of it, making the conjoinment feel pleasurable.
Zalika stared at her. "You mean you came home from work feeling like you'd been run over by a chariot and he's not making you feel better?"
"It's not like that," she insisted hurriedly. There'd been a growl to her tone, and an angry Zalika could get downright homicidal. "He's been locked in his studio for two days."
"I see," the jackal sighed, suddenly calmer. "Artists haven't changed throughout the centuries. I don't mind stopping by like this, but please call first before you give a yank? I might have been in the middle of doing someone."
"Um." Zalika's open sexuality always set her off-balance. "I don't know how to tell you this, but I didn't 'do' anything to call you."
"You didn't?"
"No. Sorry."
Zalika tapped her muzzle thoughtfully. "We might want to look into this at some point -- someone would be able to strike at you through me."
"We're not stuck like this, are we?" Esmerelda almost hoped the answer was 'yes'. The collie had no idea where she acquired such an outré kink as conjoinment; she hadn't even known about it before her first spiritual conjoinment with Zalika
"No," the jackal assured her. "Although a little harder next time and separation will be problematic." She stretched her side languidly. But, since I'm here, why don't I see about helping you feel better?"
Esmerelda opened her mouth to protest, only to find Zalika's muzzle had clamped down on it in a passionate kiss. The sensation of feeling both sides of the kiss was almost too much. Zalika's hand fastened onto the nipple on her side, and she instinctively reached down to their clit. It was the contact that brought her thinking back to something related to normalcy: What was she doing, making love to someone other than John? Did he mean that little to her?
Zalika broke the kiss. "Of course not," she admonished, demonstrating her uncanny mental powers. "It's merely a higher form of masturbation. Besides, don't I have the right to pleasure myself? It's my sweet-spot too." That in mock-an injured tone.
Esmerelda decided she really needed to change topics while she still had some willpower left. "How long will we be connected like this?" So much for changing topics.
"I could extend it through he weekend," Zalika purred. "I do have somewhere I need to be in about twelve hours so I'll have to break contact but I can reestablish it later."
"Nothing I'll need to get involved in as Super-Collie, I hope?" Esmerelda suggested.
Zalika snorted. "Don't worry, I'm being a good girl. I'm in the States and if I so much as sneeze I'll be hip-deep in supertypes."
"They are rather thick down there, aren't they?"
Zalika waggled her finger in front of Esmerelda, who took a playful nip at it and missed. "Don't think I didn't catch your double-meaning; but on to more immediate concerns. For now, why don't I just relieve you of all those aches and pains I feel on your side?"
"Alright," Esmerelda agreed, tilting her head back. Zalika didn't say anything else as her questing hand unerringly found the first sore spot and massaged it with gentle fingertips. The collie closed her eyes and sighed. A portion of her brain screamed at her -- she'd just implied agreeing to a wild weekend joined with Daughter Night, one of Australia's most wanted criminals! Not to mention the whole situation it would cause with John. His meeting with Daughter Night had been a bad one spawned when she was insane and he still woke up with nightmares about it.
Abruptly an image hurtled by, of five people in various costumes. There seemed to be a feeling of extreme caution associated with one of their number, a ram dressed in a midnight-blue robe with silver trim. She saw him look around curiously; the scene jerked and she found herself staring at the front of a small building. Zalika's voice murmured quietly in the background Arthur M. Sackler Gallery. An underlying urgency seemed to throb at that building. Another image of what looked like a very ritzy hotel room; she seemed to be laying on the bed. Slowly, dreamlike, she sat up and she looked to the night-stand; a notepad with the letterhead Boston Hyatt Regency rested between the phone and the lamp. Puzzled, she went to pick it up...and noticed her right hand looked identical to Zalika's! Is Zalika showing this to me? Esmerelda wondered. Why? And what about the Sackler Gallery?
Zalika had been in the process of caressing Esmerelda's side of their stomach; abruptly he stopped and her head spun around to stare at the collie. "Where did you hear about it?" she inquired.
"You just showed it to me," the she insisted.
"Actually, you read my mind," the jackal confessed. "Very interesting. It also means what I suspected is true."
Zalika didn't sound like she was happy to be right. "What's wrong?" Esmerelda insisted.
"I don't know if I should tell you this," Zalika confessed, "but the building you saw is a small museum associated with Harvard University in Boston. They're holding a private display of Egyptian artifacts. Nothing special or earth-shattering -- or so I thought."
"You mean there's a magical artifact in the collection?"
"There must be," she insisted. "It would explain why this connection was established with such strength. I must be tapping into it somehow and when you called out to me subconsciously ...well..." she gestured at their conjoined form. "I'd better get it out of there before it does some real damage."
Esmerelda was suddenly wide awake. "Cymbeline and I can arrange to have it removed."
Zalika shook her head. "Won't work. The artifacts are part of a private collection on loan for viewing." She smiled. "Good thing I'm resourceful."
"Zalika," she pleaded. "I know you're not going to do what it sounds like."
"You're right," the jackal said. "I'm not." She gave Esmerelda a chaste peck. "As much as I would like to stay, I think I'd better go for now. There's a chance that damn magician may spot our link. I'd love to know where the Yanks got such a powerful Diviner -- he's easily the strongest I've felt."
"Wait," Esmerelda tried one more time, but abruptly the sense of being joined was gone and her body was back to normal. "Bugger," she cursed. She reached for the phone to dial first Cymbeline and the George.
Rest would have to wait. This looked like a job for her alter-ego Super Collie.
#
An hour's flight from Wellington later a very impressed Super Collie was sitting in the passenger's section of a Concord B jet at Auckland International Airport. The plane looked so new she could almost smell the drying paint. George was already sitting down and grinning, while Cymbeline sat next to him. She hadn't exchanged her crippled Abyssinian body for her powerful lioness one to conserve her power in the event of a showdown with Zalika. Esmerelda hoped it wouldn't come to that. "Let me see if I understand you correctly, George; this jet is mine?" The collie gestured at the craft's interior with her staff for emphasis.
George winced. "Not on our budget," the middle-aged bulldog joked. "A local company wants to establish a private fleet of these to lease out to Aussie businesses. I made some arrangements with them, and in exchange for you being a spokesperson for this service you can use one of their jets as long as there's no need for it."
Esmerelda wasn't sure she liked the idea of being the spokesperson of any business but she tabled that for later. This plane meant they'd arrive in a considerably abbreviated length of time. "So," she asked Cymbeline, "what's in that private viewing at the Sackler Gallery?"
"I've checked all my sources," the cat told her. "The artifacts date to around roughly 950 BC near the end of the 21st Dynasty when the Egyptian empire was ruled from two capitals. It was a real low period from the perspective of the magic communities -- minor practitioners only. Even if there was something it would be at best of minor power."
"That's not what Zalika thinks."
"I know." Cymbeline's expression was sour. "I'm inclined to take her word for it. May I ask what he big rush is? The chance of us getting to it before she does is minuscule at best."
"I know," Esmerelda sighed. "But I don't want the Americans beating on her either." Her brain churned. What can we do? She didn't want anything to happen to Zalika . If only she wasn't so off-balance every time she dealt with the jackal...and then it hit her like a thunderbolt. "Is there a way to get this artifact legally?"
"Define 'legal'," George grimaced
"Bloody hell," she sighed. "I don't want the DSA getting their hands on the artifact -- I wouldn't trust those wankers with a rubber band. That means we have to come up with something dodgy, doesn't it?"
"This is a rhetorical question. I know it is."
Esmerelda smirked at him. "I suppose there's nothing for it. We'll have to make it look like she's helping us."
Both George and Cymbeline stared at her, stunned. George recovered first. "Now there's an interesting idea," he said in a too-casual voice.
"We're going to WHAT?" Cymbeline managed after trying a few times.
"Well, it gives Zalika a reason not to drift back into old habits and maybe help Zalika start walking the path of goodness."
"Optimistic," Cymbeline muttered to herself, obviously forgetting Esmerelda's hyper-keen hearing.
The collie chose to ignore the comment. "Cymbeline, could you help put me in contact again?"
The Abyssinian shook her head. "Not a good idea. I recognize the ram from her description. He calls himself Forethought and her estimation of his strength level is on the nose. Other magicians are leery of him because anyone with that level of strength should have been noticed by now, and he seemed to come out of nowhere."
George perked up. "I'll run a check on him with my sources and see if I can find anything."
"Couldn't hurt I suppose," Cymbeline told him doubtfully.
Esmerelda growled in frustration. "Damn. I hope Zalika understands; she's not good with surprises."
Cymbeline scratched her right arm stump and gave her a rueful glance. "She's not the only one."
Esmerelda winced at the memory of what happened the last time Cymbeline lost her temper. Granted, she'd been channeling Sehkmet at the time but still....yes, Cymbeline would understand Zalika's tendencies. For lack of anything more pressing to do, she plunked down in the aisle seat across from her two friends. "I don't know about the two of you," she declared, "but we have a fifteen-hour flight ahead of us and I could use some sleep."
"Want me to wake you up when I've got things squared away with the DSA?" George offered.
Esmerelda groaned. "We don't have to tell them we're coming, do we?"
"We're not legally required to do so anymore," George clarified, "but if we just pop in they'll swamp us with supers and agents who 'want to help us in our hour of crisis.' If you get my meaning."
"Drat." Inspiration struck. "Can we request someone specific?"
George blinked, then smiled. "Why yes. I do believe so."
"Ask for Jato Impala, " she grinned. "He seemed to have some potential -- just needed a little seasoning, is all." Cymbeline really looked like she wanted to comment, but kept silent much to Esmerelda's relief. "I also think he'll be sympathetic to our underlying goals."
"I hope you're right," Cymbeline enthused.
Esmerelda would have commented on that, but she was way too tired. She put the seat back, closed her eyes, and prepared to power nap.
THIS UNIVERSE
Raquel had never ridden in a limo before. The seats were leather, the paneling looked and felt like actual wood, and it came with a wet bar -- which had her favorite brand of spiked cream in stock. She found herself even gladder of her two heads, since it meant she could cover with some conversation while gawking. Still, it was time to ask a question she'd been bumping around her brains since she arrived in Boston. Speaking to the limo's other occupant with her right head, she said, "no offense, Mister Gregan, but I still don't know why I'm here." Her boss had been in an odd mood since they'd crossed the Massachusetts border -- tense, like he was preparing for something.
The White Tiger smiled at her. "I want to spring you on some of the bigger predators of the corporate jungle and see who tries to take a bite, figuratively speaking."
Now that's what I call disturbing imagery, Raquel thought.
"It hardly seems like that sort of party," the tigress insisted. "The Sackler Gallery isn't very big."
"What the event lacks in size it more than makes up for in status." Mr. Gregan sipped casually at his scotch. "This private showing is highly exclusive, and an invitation means One Has Arrived." He made a face. "Actually, it's so Kyle Langford can show off how well his latest sponsored archaeological dig went. Bluechip Industries got an invite because I helped save him a fortune and this is his idea of thanks."
Raquel snorted. "Hobnobbing with a group of blue-bloods eating tiny amounts of food and trying to be polite to furs you'd sooner avoid. Some reward." Most furs would call this a dangerous statement to one's boss but Raquel had already learned Mr. Gregan favored bluntness.
"Now that is a vile accuracy if I ever heard one," he chuckled. Then he leaned forward, blue eyes alight. "Consider this your first lesson in corporate politics -- How To Schmooze. Included is acting interested over the most boring subjects, when to dominate and not dominate the conversation and sleeping with your eyes open."
Mr. Gregan was in rare form today. "Sounds like you plan on having a good time."
He set his scotch down. "Absolutely." His eyes almost burning her with their intensity. "It's times like these in the business world that one really finds out what one's nerves are made of. Fursons will insult you to your face in such a way you cannot rip their intestines out, no matter how much they deserve it. Forget about being liked -- it's all about being respected, feared or both."
"I prefer respected, actually. If too many furs are afraid of you they might decide a group effort is called for." The more she learned about Mr. Gregan's world, the less she liked it. If only he hadn't decided she was a 'project' -- and the fact he was good-looking didn't help. Raquel was committed to Kayleigh, but she wasn't dead.
The limo stopped in front of an L-shaped structure composed of red brick with a large, shallow steps rising up off the street into it. Mr. Gregan nodded at it. "The exhibit's on the first floor at the back in the Special Exhibition room -- a curtain partition has been set up so Kyle will always be aware when someone goes to take a look at it. The first and second floors are open but there's really nothing to see up there. It's considered impolite in the extreme if one does not hobnob for at least ten minutes before examining whatever it is your host is showing off. Your unique looks will be frowned upon unless you can get them to see past it."
"Anything else?" God I wish Kayleigh was with me. Too bad I'm here as Mr. Gregan's guest, the tigress thought. Although with everything that's happened this is not a good time to leave Cyndi alone. Life just does not stop churning out the shocks.
"Yes," he grinned as the door opened. "Let us go out there and, as they say, own this joint."
Oh boy she thought to herself and she was helped out of the limo by a St. Bernard who gaped at her. She double-smiled at him and slipped him a ten; he immediately snapped to attention.
"Word of advice," he murmured as she passed him. "Mr. Toshiyama from Yakata Corp is headhunting and he plays dirty. If he likes you and doesn't think you'll jump ship, that tiger will spread rumors you have so he can pick you off the unemployment line for a song."
"Why thank you," she purred at him with her right head, holding up her hand. He kissed it like a true gentleman, the effect ruined only by him lingering over her neckline. She really couldn't blame him -- Mr. Gregan had insisted she dress the part of the debutante to the hilt. The tigress wore an ankle-length black dress with a neckline that unashamedly displayed the fact she had two developed pairs of breasts. Her heels were three-inch black pumps. As a final touch, she wore two different hairstyles -- her right head had its hair bound back and then hanging loose, and her second had its hair curled. Even she had to admit the effect was startling. "Would you mind spreading the word that I like hearing about things and I'm not shy with tips?" To back her point up, she slipped him a twenty. "I've been where you are and I know how much this job pays. Or doesn't. At least it's a nice night."
"That it is."
She flashed him a smile with her right head while she'd been scoping the crowd out with her left. Mr. Gregan had already begun talking to an overweight bear in a suit with creases sharp enough to cut. All the other furs were definitely staring at her, and the way some muzzles were wrinkling they had opinions. Despite herself, Raquel smiled. She'd spent all of earlier today acquiring information on the businessfurs here, and having two heads meant she got a lot. Deciding to make an immediate impression she strode over to a hyena she recognized from an issue of BusinessWeek. -- he looked particularly displeased to see her. "Hello, Mr. Faulkland," she purred, holding out her hand. "Congratulations on the Kikkoland/Mistral merger." She decided to speak with only her left head for now and send misleading signals with her right. Another trick developed by Mr. Gregan.
He blinked and recovered magnificently. "Thank you, Ms....?"
"Raquel Fayral," she added. "Tell, me, how difficult was it to deal with their debts?"
He frowned. "I beg your pardon?"
Ding, one for me she thought to herself gleefully.
It's a good bet he didn't know, considering how well it was hidden. Why, you'd need two brains working at once to spot it. "They'd bought out Lysand Electronics six months ago in a blind bid -- probably for a tax loss -- only it turned into a money pit very quickly."
"Yes....yes they did," he replied absently. Then he skewered her with his gaze. "It was a bit of a trick, let me tell you."
"I'm sure it was." Raquel could see the flames in his eyes. Ouch. Someone in his Financial department's going to get it in the neck. "Well I don't want to pry any secrets out of you -- or spread any tales." She stressed that last part, hoping he'd get the message. The hyena's eyes still burned but he seemed to relax a bit. "I would appreciate knowing how it turned out." She slipped him a business card from a freshly-made stack -- also Mr. Gregan's idea.
"Thank you." The wrinkle in his muzzle was gone and his glance was now appraising.
"You're welcome. Now if you excuse me, I have to introduce myself to my host." She walked up the stairs, not entirely managing to stifle the waggle in her butt as she did so. I think Mr. Gregan would chalk that up as a 'win'.
Uh oh, she thought, seeing identical furs approach from either side. She'd heard about these two -- Tina and Theresa Vanni, owners outright of a few olive groves and a shipping company. Supposedly legit. They dressed alike and, as the rumor went, were 'connected at the hip', meaning they shared lovers. Personally, she was more interested in all the medical research facilities they'd been donating to recently. Raquel turned and gave each a smile with the head facing them. "Good evening Ms. and Ms. Vanni," she chirruped in stereo, handing them a businesscard.
The one on the right took it and gave one of her own. "Good evening..." the one on the left started.
"...Ms. Fayral." finished the other one, glancing over at the card. "That is the right pronunciation, is it not?"
She nodded at them. Both were toothsome specimens of chocolate-point Siamese with toned and lithe bodies, sensual hips, and small but perky breasts. "I heard you had a problem with the current harvest."
"Oh, let's not talk business," purred one, taking her left arm.
"Let's talk about you," purred her twin, doing the same. "We saw you with Faulkland."
"He displayed such an entertaining variety of expressions it got us curious. Mind sharing?" Back to the previous one.
Uh oh times twelve. This close, she could tell their pupils were dilated and their nipples erect. These kitties are hungry -- and they think I'm on the menu.. I'll have to turn them down and not piss them off at the same time. The thought of making it with identical twins was a turn-on, but she couldn't betray Kayleigh. If the husky was here to share....no! Bad tigress! She was sure Kayleigh wasn't that adventurous -- or was she?
Focus, Raquel chided herself. "I never mind sharing secrets when its appropriate to do so," she told them in stereo. They seemed to like that answer. "One secret I'd like to know," the tigress continued, dipping her voice down to a low murmur, "is how are you two? health-wise that is."
"Fine," one said quickly.
"Never better," the other said, almost cutting off her twin.
Hey, Raquel thought to herself. I wonder... she decided to take a chance. "Well I hope the both of you find what you're looking for," she told them. "I think you'd look cute conjoined." Immediately they looked nervous. Bingo, she crowed silently. "Relax," she chided. "I can keep secrets as well." Inspiration struck. "I'll even help you look," she promised. "I can be discrete and I'm great at uncovering things." The twins looked pleasantly surprised. "I'll drop you a line if I find out anything."
"Really?" the one on the left murmured.
"You don't think...?" The other left it hanging.
"Never stop dreaming," she told them with passion. "We can talk later if you want but I see a few more muzzles out of joint that need straightening. Okay?"
"We understand," the one on the left murmured, giving her a peck on her left head's cheek.
"Do you like this life?" The right one asked her suddenly.
"What, the world of big business? It's okay."
The right twin leaned in closer. "Do yourself a favor. This is no profession for a nice fur like yourself. Leave while you still have your soul."
It was her turn to be stunned as the twins took each others' arms and headed inside. The problem was her gut told her they were right. Raquel had met precious few businessfurs at Mr. Gregan's level, but they all seemed to have this mindset best be described as predatory -- even the moral ones. She wasn't sure she wanted to be that kind of furson.
Something to worry about later, Raquel told herself. The Vanni twins did seem nice, though. I hope they get what they want. Close sisters who wanted to be closer still, a part of each other physically....Raquel didn't want to be that close to Kayleigh but she wished them the best of luck.
Time to find my host and say hello, she groaned. Then I'll visit the exhibit. I can always press more flesh afterwards.
ANOTHER UNIVERSE
SAME PARTY
"Mr. Langford," Zalika cooed at the short red fox. "Thank you ever so much for inviting me."
"I'm glad you could come," he beamed at her sincerely. Of course, what he was seeing wasn't what she looked like; to him Zalika was familiar but he just couldn't place where they'd met before.
The jackal peeked into his mind. A taste for your own sex in bed, eh? And you with a new trophy wife. To tell her or not? After she took you to the cleaners she'd be ever so grateful to the teller. She'd have to think about that one.
Zalika traded some inanities with him before excusing herself. She paused a moment in front of the curtain before sojourning into the Special Exhibit room to survey the conquests she'd made this evening. Tedd Faulkner had learned his new acquisition had not been entirely honest with him thanks to her, a pair of lovely identical cat twins had been given an address so they might realize their lifelong dream -- even the new head of Bluechip Industries, Bob Ringtail, had required something and she'd set his feet on the path. All at a price, of course.
Zalika hadn't touched everyone here yet, but it was a matter of time.
The jackal checked her Rolex. I wonder when Essie will get here. The chances of her beloved collie not showing up were zero. I wonder what would have happened if I'd gotten to you before John, she mused. Would we be allies? Lovers? Something more? She was full aware of Essie's kink, something impossible to satiate without magical aid. Perhaps we could indulge it in the flesh for a weekend. There was still John to consider, unfortunately. She did want to make it up to him if for no other reason than he'd be more willing to share Essie.
*Time to find my host and say hello, then I'll visit the exhibit. I can always press more flesh afterwards.*
Zalika quickly looked around for the source of the voice. It sounded definitely female, with the undertones of a strong will. She peered suspiciously over her shoulder into the Special Exhibit room. Nothing in there felt magical, but that didn't rule out anti-scrying spells. Whoever it was would have to have been very powerful to conceal magic from me, she worried. And the twenty-first dynasty just was not known for the quality of its spellcasters. She decided the voice, wherever it came from, had a point. Finding out exactly what was in the Special Exhibit room was too paramount.
With the air of someone who knows she is master of all she surveys, Zalika stepped through the curtain dividing the exhibit form the party.
BACK
Raquel gaped at it. A whole room? That's what it sure looked like. A ten-by-fifteen roofed structure of old stone bricks with a doorway on the side away from her, and only three walls. Looks like it was supposed to have only three walls. She stepped inside and glanced over the hieroglyphs. Hmmmm. She looked at two different walls at once. Immediately the writing became fuzzy, indistinct. I knew it, she cursed. The twenty-first century BC was when it all started for the Whites and Blacks. Looks like this is a magical artifact. He was probably allowed to display it because there was no way to tell what it was -- unless you could look at two different things at once. Like me.
I'd better call Patricia about this. She turned to leave.
*Looks harmless enough, but looks can be deceiving. Hmmm...now this line here is interesting...*
She quickly looked around with both heads, but no one else was present. Where did that voice come from? it sounded like an attractive, assertive femfur. What had it been talking about? What line? She focused on a row of hieroglyphs that seemed shorter than its fellows.
Idly, she touched the last character.
THERE AGAIN
Zalika put her hands on her hips and looked around the small tomb-chamber. Looks harmless enough, but looks can be deceiving. Her eyes settled on a line if hieroglyphics that was far too short. She could understand it of course -- it just didn't tell anything of import. Just a history of the builder of the tomb, a cultivator of local spices who'd never been wealthy. Still, the way that line ended just wasn't correct; it was like reading a grammatically perfect book and then stumbling onto first-grade level writing. Hmmm...now this line looks interesting, Zalika thought to herself.
Idly, she touched the last character.
WHOOPS
Had Tuth'kam gotten a proper grave, he would now be spinning in it. All that time and effort spent on creating the most unlikely conditions in which this dimensional gateway could be accessed: by two women reshaped by magic -- one by herself and one by someone else -- who had conquered the place it was being held without violence AND touched exactly the right spot at exactly the same time.
The less likely an occurrence is to happen, the more likely it will --- at the worst possible time.
HERE
Zalika shook her head. She looked around the reconstructed chamber and even at herself a few times. Then with lightning speed her finger shot out and mashed the same glyph she'd just touched.
Had a philologist been present he would have been impressed at how many languages Zalika could curse in. I can't believe I got nailed by a magic item like a green apprentice, she fumed. It had been extremely well-disguised but the knowledge did nothing for her temper. She was trapped in another universe with no way back until she could make contact with the person she'd switched places with. She placed her open hand over the final glyph and pulled the remnants of the person's aura from it and took a sniff. Female -- and feline, she mused. There's an odd spice to it as well. She's not this universe's Doppleganger of me but she could be a Variant. Zalika's sharp ears picked up the sounds of a party in the next room. Well at least that's the same -- I just hope she mingled.
Zalika thrust her awareness out, flitting it among the partygoers brief and then quickly drew it back in. Interesting...no one in the next room has heard of Daughter Night, Super Collie, or even supers outside of movie or print. I might want to arrange something so I can come back here. There's certainly magic, but it remains to be seen who's who in occult circles. I'll block my magical signature from radiating, but for a change that's all the care I'll need to take since no one knows who I am. Zalika stepped out of the chamber and into the main room, brushing aside the curtain. First things first. I need to discover who she's talked to and, more importantly, who she came with. The more samples of her aura I have, the greater my chance at contacting her across the dimensions.
She took a moment at the top steps, looking to see who or what had changed -- everything looked the same, except Bob Ringtail had been replaced with a White Bengal tiger. So far, so good, she mused. She mystically extended her hearing as she swiped a full champagne glass, to see what the topic of choice was.
"....must be back looking at the exhibit. I wonder if she's single...."
"...where Gregan got a personal assistant like that..."
"...someone to watch for....."
"...so exotic...."
It wasn't a big stretch to deduce who everyone was talking about, since none of the comments seemed directed at any of the other women present. Well, well well, Zalika thought, idly sipping her champagne. Looks like whoever she is has wrapped this party around her finger. She approached the Vanni twins. "Excuse me," she purred at them. "I just arrived -- traffic was running late I fear -- and I keep overhearing the oddest conversations."
The twins looked at each other and smiled dreamily. "Believe us..." the one on the right began.
"...they don't do the reality of Raquel justice," the other finished.
Zalika took a quick look into their minds at their first meeting of Raquel and what had transpired. Delicious, Zalika marveled. Raquel's body looked built to be enjoyed. Four breasts, defined muscles that didn't take away from her sexy female curves, two heads...and from the interested looks she gave them, is either a lesbian or bi. Plus, from the way she moves, she's fully aware of her sensuality and loves it. The jackal smiled to herself. And now I have the perfect way to get back to this reality if I wish. "Raquel does cause quite a stir doesn't she?" The jackal leaned forward and adopted a conspiratorial tone. "She only goes to the very best parties, you know."
"Really?" One of them enthused.
"I knew she wasn't just Alex's personal secretary," the other burbled.
Zalika laughed urbanely. "Of course not." She plucked the image of 'Alex' form their mind. The strong-looking white tiger I saw earlier, she mused. Apparently in this reality he's the head of Bluechip Industries instead of Bob. "In fact, I'm a friend. She called me and mentioned something you two were looking for. " They stiffened slightly as she leaned forward. "I can help."
"Really?" Both wore identical expressions of longing.
"Oh yes," she told them. "Let's talk about it at your limo, shall we?" She cast a brief glance in Alex's direction. "I need to talk to Alex for a bit." The twins streaked towards the parking lot so fast Zalika swore they left scuff marks on the floor. She chuckled. Now it's time to get a read from her boss. She licked her lips. And perhaps some power as well.
#
"Mr. Gregan?"
Alex turned from his brief contemplation of the artwork -- a little overdone in his opinion -- and beamed at Raquel. "You are the talk of the party. Any number of these titans of industry lay draped at your feet, panting at your every word."
She double-giggled. "A little over-dramatic, don't you think?"
"Perhaps," he smiled. The smile vanished at a brief stabbing pain erupted above his eye.
Raquel stared at him. "Are you okay, Alex?"
"I'm not sure," she told her, rubbing the afflicted spot. "I seem to have developed a mild headache rather suddenly."
"I've got some aspirin in my purse. It's back at the limo, though. Care to accompany me?"
"That would be marvelous, Ms. Fayral." Alex managed to keep his voice even. Something is wrong, he told himself. First she referred to him by his first name -- she NEVER did that -- and she'd been speaking entirely in stereo. Could she have overheard something important? He didn't doubt it. Having double the sensory range would be a tremendous asset at a party like this. Alex relaxed and let her pull him along out of the building into his limo; she entered first and pulled him in after her.
"Now then," he began as he closed the door. He abruptly stopped as her hands zipped the back of her dress open. "Ms. Fayral -- Raquel -- what...?"
She lunged forward, pinning him against the seat, on top of him....and kissed him hard with her right head. He made one halfhearted attempt to push her away and failed. Gods, he'd wanted this since they day he saw her. The feel her muscles in the heat of passion, the press of her perfect abs, caress her shoulders, thighs, legs...he loved muscular women. Still, it was Not Done to sleep with an employee. He tried to make a verbal protest but her lips wouldn't leave his. "I couldn't wait any longer, either" she murmured in one ear with her right head. "The 'sudden headache' was a brilliant excuse."
The hungry mouth lifted away. "Raquel..." he tried one last time.
She double-giggled as her hands reached down and tore his tux open. Then she descended again, and darkness overtook him.
#
For a few minutes, the limo belonging to Bluechip Industries was silent. Then the door flung open and Zalika bolted out like she'd been shot. At the last moment she realized she may be watched and closed the door, gently. Someone's laid protections on his mind, she thought. Powerful ones. They'd made it very hard to influence his thoughts -- she'd even confused one of his fantasies with reality -- and had 'shut him down' before the jackal could get more than Raquel's address. The more I see, the more it looks like I've stumbled into something big. Zalika, being the curious type, just had to find out what it was She would have preferred to accompany Alex in his limo to Providence, but she had no idea what she was up against; it was better to play it safe for now. It's a good thing the driver also hadn't been shielded. As far as he's concerned Raquel and his boss are in the limo. She stepped back and let it drive off. I should have cleaned up enough of my mystic residue there'll be no trace. I just wish I'd gotten more than a trickle of power from him, because I think I'll need it.
She sought out the Vanni twins' life signatures. They can be my transportation, she mused. I'll also be able to use them as a source of income if I need to and I'll have a way to recharge my power. She saw the two of them talking excitedly by a gray stretch limo and sauntered up to them. "Hello ladies," she smiled at them. "I'm ready to help you, but I'm going to need a few things."
"Name it," they both blurted.
"I need you to drive me to Providence and stay with me there for a few days -- it will give me time to get to know you." And charm you out of your panties in the process, she purred to herself. Not that doing so would be hard considering the looks they were giving her cleavage.
"Sure," they replied at once.
Zalika's curiosity reared up and bit her. She just had to know if it was the same reason.... "I must admit to being curious; why do you want to be conjoined?"
They both shook their heads. "You misunderstand," the one on the right told her. "We just want back what was ours."
Well I'll be, Zalika murmured to herself. A very different reason indeed. She placed a hand on one twin's belly and then the other and felt the old scars. "You were born conjoined."
"Our parents separated us when we were twelve," the one on the left spat. "We begged them not to, but they did it anyway because they wanted 'normal' kits."
"I see," Zalika replied. It was an effort to keep the emotion out of her voice. The twins' reasoning in this universe hit very close to home. "Why don't we all pile into your limousine? We can get started on that....and a few other things."
THERE
Raquel stared at the glyph for a bit, feeling foolish. Well, what was I expecting it to do? Blow up? Nothing around her had changed; even the glyphs on the walls were still writhing. I don't want to just leave this here, she mused. I'd call Patricia except I don't have her number.
I could call Kayleigh and have her go to Patricia's house, she realized. She'd left her purse -- with her cell phone inside -- in the limo, not knowing if it was gauche to have a purse at a party like this. I'll just let Mr. Gregan know I need to make a call. It should be okay.
She heard the sounds of a scuffle from the front room. Curious, she stopped at the edge of the curtain and listened. A loud, male vice was bellowing orders. "That's right! Just you all lay down and no one gets hurt!"
A robbery? Here? Raquel was incensed. Where the hell was Security? She kept one pair of ears glued while looking around frantically with the other head, finally spying a fire alarm. It's not a phone, but any port in the storm as my Dad always said. Maybe it'll scare whoever it is off.
She started to go for it and stopped. I should see how many of them there are first, the 'random' thought chided. Raquel agreed; she didn't want them shooting hostages in a panic. The tigress crept up to the right edge of the curtain and peeked out with both heads; everyone had already gotten down on their stomachs. Her eyes hugged the edges of the room. No one's covering the crowd, she marveled. Can't be more than two or three of them. Her eyes arrived at the front door, and she was completely mystified. Standing there wearing dark brown latex pants and black latex boots was the oddest Great Dane she'd ever seen. His chest was so overdeveloped it was grotesque, and his arms were so long they dangled to his knees. There were a pair of long, steer-like horns jutting out of hi head and they didn't look fake. He wore a cocky sneer as he glanced around.
"Good normies," he grinned. "Don't give ol' Bull-Dog a reason to show why you all should show your bellies when he's around. Don't worry, I won't be long. I just wanna see what's behind curtain Number One."
Raquel decided she couldn't have asked for a better entrance line. Sure, he looked tough, but those legs of his could sure use some work. I can take this steroid reject, she told herself smugly. Not even a pistol? Please. She thrust the curtain aside, speaking with both heads. "Sorry Rover, the sign says 'no shirt, no service.' Yo can read, can't you?"
He goggled. So, she noticed, did everyone lying on the floor. "Da-amn," he marveled. "You're a weird one, but still a hot-looking pussy."
"What a horribly unoriginal line," she drawled with her right head, rolling her eyes with her left. "Get that out of a cereal box?"
'Bull-Dog' snickered. "You're new at this," he told her in a very condescending tone as he strode forward, "so I'm gonna go easy on ya. I'm Bull-Dog, and my invulnerability is indexed Rank Twelve in the DSA's Supervillain Guidebook. So forget about hurting me. You won't."
"Oh really?" This fur's nuttier than a jar of peanuts. I'd better take him out quick. Now he was up close, she was having second thoughts. His arms were like tree trunks. "Care to make a bet?"
His grin threatened to split his head. "Got guts, sexy-licious. Okay, I'll tell you what. Plant one on the old kisser here," he offered, pointing at his chin. "If you take a piece out of me, I'll sit quietly for the cops. If not, I leave." He leered. "With you."
"Predictable," Raquel snorted, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. Popular fiction to the contrary, the chin was a bad place to try knocking someone out.
The leer deepened. "Having second thoughts, babe-alicious? You can forfeit right now if you want."
"I don't think so," Raquel hissed, and with no wind-up hit the obnoxious male-fur hard.
#
"You're sure?"
Super Collie ran along the ground at top-speed. George was back at the airport clearing things with the DSA. She should have waited, but the thought of Zalika getting into Lord knew what trouble make her itchy...and, surprisingly she'd gotten a lot of sleep in on the plane.
Cymbeline snorted. She was riding an ash stick next to her in her powerful Lioness form. "Yes, I'm sure. One minute I could feel her and the next she was gone."
"I hope nothing's happened to her," Esmerelda fretted.
"Or she hasn't happened to anyone," Cymbeline snorted. "Slow down, the Sackler Gallery's coming up!"
Esmerelda nodded. "Let me go in first," she urged. "If Zalika's in a bad mood, I stand the best chance of talking her down."
It was as if God Himself heard Super Collie and decided to have a bit of fun at her expense, because at that moment the front door of the Gallery exploded as something large shot out of it at high speed. Super Collie didn't even have time for a yelp as it collided with her and plowed her into the gallery building across the street. Cymbeline winced. That's some bad mood. She squared her shoulders. She loved Esmerelda like a sister but there were some things she had a blind spot for, and Zalika was the biggest one. I'd better take care of this. If Daughter Night is that pissed off, she's beyond reasoning. Besides, I have a few tricks up my sleeve -- just for her.
She set her stick down on the grass, gathered up her spell energies, she strode confidently through what was left of the Sackler's front door. "Okay, enough of..."
She stopped.
She gaped.
Standing by a curtained partition at the opposite end of the room was a muscular, four breasted two-headed tigress. One head was staring out the way Cymbeline came in and the other was gaping at her right had as if it would explode. All around her people were cowering on the floor, although some were beginning to look up at her.
Zalika, Cymbeline moaned. What have you done this time? She could smell the faint residue of Daughter Night's power around the weird-looking woman. This has to be a 'creation' of hers somehow. Either this is a pair of identical twins she conjoined or a normal woman altered. Probably as a bodyguard, considering she just punched someone through a building -- and, considering this tigress' looks, probably as a bed-mate as well. The tigress seemed to be stunned, so Cymbeline took it as the opportunity. "Okay," the lioness barked at her, "Where's Daughter Night?"
Both heads blinked. "Who?" the left head demanded. The right head stopped contemplating its fist and peered at her.
Oh lovely, the 'ignorant' routine. And poorly done at that. "You're in a lot of trouble, and there's a potentially powerful magic artifact here. Let's not play any games, shall we?"
The tigress double-snarled at her. "Not play games?" Cymbeline's comment really seemed to piss her off for some reason; she was practically bristling. "All you idiots do is play games. The artifact is left lying around with security best described as laughable, and now you're getting on my case about it? Go screw yourself with a cactus."
Cymbeline felt the rage of Sehkmet boil in her gut. "That was uncalled for," she hissed, holding her temper in.
The tigress stepped forward. "UNCALLED FOR??" She roared with both heads. "Oh, that's rich. The ultimate in hubris." A menacing growl poured out of the right head while the left continued its tirade. "Why don't you take your little steroid-enhanced physique back to whatever hole you crawled it out of and I'll handle things from here?"
What the hell is her problem? "Don't push it," Cymbeline growled. She could feel the flames behind her eyes. "If you think punching someone through a wall is going to scare me, you're as badly mistaken as you are outclassed."
The tigress double-glared at her. "Your kind only outclasses me when it comes to getting innocents killed." She turned towards the curtain forming a back wall in the room. "Now, if you'll excuse me..."
Cymbeline decided she'd Had It. I don't know what this tigress' problem is, but I'm going to fix it. And her. She lunged forward, giving her no time to react...and her target immediately spun around with a vicious backhand
Cymbeline had time to think I was so angry I forgot about the two heads before the glancing impact lifted her off her feet and sent her sailing out through the destroyed door.
#
Raquel grinned as the Gifted somersaulted a few times trying not to get a bad case of road rash. I have to admit she's got the moves to go along with that buffed body of hers, Raquel grudged. But I got some power of my own. There's no way someone gets punched through a building like 'Bull-dog' character unless they really are extra-normally tough and someone even tougher hits them. It may have been a while since I was a comic-book junkie but I still remember how it all works. She didn't know why the Gifted had stupidly left such a magical artifact lying around and didn't care. She was going to teach one of those pricks a hard lesson. -- and then blow their secret world wide open. The lioness glared at her, rubbing her jaw. She smirked back. "Poor puddy," she taunted. "Anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on someone with two heads?"
"The name's Cymbeline," she snarled, and pointed an outstretched hand at her. "And it's about time you learned some matters." Raquel found herself seized by an unseen force as it jerked her off her feet. Another gesture by the lioness and she flew out of the building and plowed into the street. "Remember what I said about being outclassed?" A third gesture and the tigress dangled in the air, seemingly helpless.
"I remember," Raquel grinned at her. "You also haven't done anything to hurt me." It was true; this Cymbeline had slammed her into the street so hard there was a small crater and she didn't even feel bruised. The tigress flexed her muscles and thrust out with her arms. She heard the lioness gasp and Raquel dropped to her feet. The tigress lunged forward with another backhand, but her blow encountered some sort of resistance; even so, the force caused Cymbeline to grunt in pain. The lioness' return volley was a spinning kick that connected with Raquel's left side. She oofed at the impact, and then a quick punch to her right head snapped it back.
I'd better watch myself, Raquel thought. This Lioness really knows how to fight. None of the blows hurt all that much but she didn't want to take a chance. Raquel threw a punch which Cymbeline blocked, but the force of her blow hurled her opponent sideways and something snapped audibly. The lioness howled. "News flash, sweetie," Raquel taunted her. "Blocks only work if you're even close to my strength level."
The lioness held up her arm. "Only a fool relies on raw power." Raquel gaped as the visible bruise faded away. "But since that's all you seem to understand, prepare to receive it." She spread her hands in front of her and pointed them at Raquel.
There was a huge flash.
#
Esmerelda needed time to catch her breath. The thing that had hit her at a good clip was a solidly-built man, and being caught completely flat-footed meant she's been his unintentional buffer as he plowed into the building across the street, bursting through the front door and crashing into the lobby. As a consequence, she was now was half-buried under masonry.
Esmerelda took in her surroundings as she lay pinned. This is the gallery next door to Sacklers....can't remember it's name, she thought. The figure above her stirred. "Are you okay?" She asked him.
"Wh..wh..what da hell?" He protested, sounding very shaky.
"I was hoping you could tell me," she quipped. "I just got here."
"Nrg." He spat out a tooth. "Thanks for the save. Man, I do not want to get hit by her again."
'Her', huh? Bloody heck, Zalika must be in a royal snit. "Daughter Night isn't one to take likely." She sat up and thrust some of the masonry off of her. The strange-looking Great Dane was sporting one hell of a bruise and blood trickled from his jaw but the injuries didn't look life-threatening. Must be yet another new Yank super. What do they do, manufacture them?
"Freeze!"
A security guard, feeling braver than his brain should allow, stepped behind Bull-dog while she was distracted and drew a pistol. The super instinctively swung turned and swung a fist. Esmerelda darted in and tried to use her staff to block. Unfortunately her angle was bad and her room to maneuver was worse; the punch skimmed the bottom of the staff and slammed into her stomach. "Enough of this shit," he declared. "I'm outta here!" In one motion he crouched and sprang away, taking out another section of wall. Dimly through the pain, she could make out a falling piece of ceiling, jarred loose from the impact, clock the guard on the head. He folded like an accordion.
Super Collie found the energy to swear. Bloody Yanks, she thought angrily at the unconscious security guard. Always jumping in without thinking. Suddenly something occurred to her as she stared weakly at the ceiling. Her eyes traced the very large crack from the original point of entry and followed it to the hole just made by the exiting super. Bleeding heck -- the ceiling's coming down. Esmerelda was still too groggy to attempt grabbing the guard and running at top speed so she flung herself on top of him . She hoped it was just the ceiling coming down -- she could dig her way out of that. If it was the whole building...
Then the collie saw a huge flash outside and a crack like an explosion. The building shook, and the cracks got wider....
#
Raquel rolled to her feet, surprised she didn't hurt nearly as much as she thought. Then again she hadn't been standing around waiting to take the brunt of whatever spell that had been. Probably a good thing, since the street where she'd been was charred and smoldering. I think I've managed to really piss her off, she thought.
Hey what's that? Her roll plus the force of the explosion had carried her across the street to the gallery next door.
She saw a body lying on the floor inside.
She saw an attractive-looking collie over said body, shielding it.
She saw the building trembling.
Great. I don't think I can call a time out. Well, I got these magical muscles -- let's see how good they really are. Raquel dove into the building, narrowly avoiding another spell and stood over the two, bracing her arms over her head. "Hold on," she barked. Her left head looked down at the collie while her right watched the ceiling for imminent cave-in.
The collie looked up. "What..?"
With a loud groan, the ceiling collapsed. By some miracle they'd been positioned near the center of the room -- and the first thing to come down was a support beam. Raquel caught it. "I'd have expected supporting a roof would be harder," she grinned.
"Thanks," the collie told her. "I needed a second to catch my breath."
"Don't mention it. Let me guess...you met a weird-looking Great Dane, right?"
The collie stood up and stretched. "The hard way." She stopped in mid-stretch and stared at Raquel. "Bugger!"
"No offense, but could you gawk later?" Raquel finally managed to get a good look at the collie in the evening light. A bathing suit, boots and a cape? And what the deal with that staff? Looks like another Gifted. "There's a very pissed-off lioness out there and she's going to come by and blast me very soon."
The collie picked up the prone figure. "Not if that roof falls on you first," she said.
"It's not that heavy, believe it or not."
"Take it from an old pro -- the laws of physics still apply. Having enough muscles to lift an aircraft carrier means little without the leverage to use it. What do you think you'll brace against if you're pinned by the building falling on you?
"Great." Raquel saw the lioness approach behind the collie. "Behind you!"
The collie spun just as a small sun seemed to build in the lioness' outstretched palm. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"
"Taking out one of Daughter Night's minions," Cymbeline snarled.
"Who the hell is Daughter Night?" Raquel demanded.
"Can we discuss this later?" The collie handed her unconscious prize over to Cymbeline. "Better take him. I need to help my rescuer out of there."
Cymbeline did a double-take. "Your what?"
"Just do it, Cymbeline."
"Alright," the lioness said, glaring at Raquel as she took the guard. "Later it is then." The promissory snarl over one shoulder as she turned to leave was vicious.
The collie turned back to Raquel. "I want you to let go."
She stared. "Are you nuts? The ceiling will collapse before you make it."
"Don't worry. I just need you to roll with me."
Raquel wanted to ask more questions, but something about the collie's attitude bespoke experience. "You're the boss. On three."
"Three!" The collie declared, jerking her forward.
Raquel squawked, remembered the collie's instructions and tried to cooperate as her rescuer pulled her down. Then everything happened fast; the world became one gigantic blur, she felt the ground for what seemed to be a split second and then she was flying through the air, landing snoots-first on the pavement. She saw, out of the corner of one eye, the entire building get a few floors shorter and it hadn't been all that tall to begin with. "Yikes," she marveled. Raquel double-grinned at the collie who seemed to be lying on the street next to her. "You could charge for that ride, you know."
The collie got to her feet and helped Raquel up. "Thanks...I think."
" "Thanks' is my line. Name's Raquel." She grinned. "Should I call you Super-Collie?"
"I don't see why not; every one else does," came the answer. Raquel blinked in surprise. "Now what happened with you and Cymbeline? I've never seen her so livid."
"She came off with an attitude," Raquel said at once. "No offense, but I've heard enough about other Gifted to have a low tolerance level for that sort of thing. By the by are you both White, Black, or a mixed pair?"
"What the devil are you talking about?"
'Super-Collie' looked genuinely mystified. Raquel peered at the collie. "I was under the impression all the magic-wielding types had been buttoned up by either the Lord of White or the Lord of Black. Either you're a third group or..."
"Miss Collie?"
The collie turned to address the guard, who was now standing. "Yes?
Raquel didn't hear what he said in return, she was too busy staring with both heads. She'd seen his tail in bad light and assumed he was a husky. Now in the street lights she could see it curled in on itself like a husky tail, but his body structure was all wrong and his face...
Super Collie seemed to take his appearance in stride. "Not a problem," she answered. "Next time, run -- and if your bosses don't like it, tell then they can handle the next supervillan that comes a-knocking."
He thanked her politely and left. Raquel managed to keep a reign on her mouth until he was just out of earshot. "Wh....wh...what...?"
Both femfurs looked at her funny. "Are you okay?" Super Collie wanted to know.
"What kind of fur was that?"
Cymbeline scowled. "Don't tell me you've never seen a Chinchilla before."
Raquel double-swallowed. "Not out of a pet-store." A very awful realization suddenly occurred to her "Oh man..."
"What?" Super Collie wanted to know.
"I think," the tigress said morosely, "that I'm not in Kansas anymore..."
EPILOGUE
From the wreckage of the building, a shadow without an owner rose.
It couldn't believe its luck.
It was just meters away from one of the only beings with the power to send it back. The other was in another dimension but its kind existed nowhere, so therefore could go everywhere. All it had to do was eliminate one of the females and the entrance to this world was assured for its fellows. It could not contend with them openly -- its failure to kill the tigress with the collapsed building was proof of that -- but then again it didn't need to.
The shadow shimmered into the form of a pigeon. So many things it could do...it decided on the most useful. The one it was best at. It would wait and watch until the time was right to strike.
The sorcerer Tuth'kam would fail yet...