A neatly arranged blanket covered his lap and legs. His bony talons lay in his lap, right on left. His bare forearms were purplish. His chin rested on his chest. He drooled.

Hard men there were appalled and repelled.

Belinda said, “The guest of honor. My father. Chodo Contague. Celebrating his sixtieth birthday. Let’s toast the man responsible for our prosperity.”

The shock waned under the weight of wine and good cheer. Some shill burst into song. Others picked it up. A few wondered what this meant to the overall organization.

I caught snippets. Some saw this as a chance to improve themselves. But they couldn’t concentrate, even though they kept talking about trying.

I was ten feet away when Chodo came to life, though only just barely. He raised his chin three inches, the effort herculean. His whole body shook. His gaze found me momentarily.

A kitten leaped desperately toward his lap.

The hall slammed into darkness. Then fire exploded as the decorative lamps shattered and spewed burning oil. People pounded their clothing, to kill the flames there. The air began to heat up.

So did panic.

The latter included Belinda, who ran blindly.

This definitely wasn’t on her program.

I caught her, gripped her arm with one hand, and spun Chodo’s chair with the other, headed them toward the kitchen. Everybody else rushed the front door.

Morley quickly sent his troops to fight the fires. He keeps a cool head however filthy the scat storm gets. When even queens of the underworld are losing control, Morley stands short, proud and calm.

A swarm of cats streamed past. Rats were in motion, too. Pixies zoomed around overhead.

The confusion eased in the kitchen. “You stay here,” I told Belinda. “Where are your bodyguards?”

“Good question. I mean to ask.”

“I’ll find them.” It was a puzzle, them vanishing. They should’ve surrounded Belinda the instant the excitement started.

The baby cats headed back into the big hall.

Belinda seized my arm, for one moment a scared little girl. Which is one way she manipulates me. Then the woman who ran the Outfit reemerged. She snagged a butcher knife. “Be careful.”

“Watch out. Don’t leave unless you have to. There’s some kind of excitement going on outside.” I followed my kitties.

Fires still pranced and murmured in a dozen places. Only the little blazes had been slain. The excitement up front had ended. A few bold fellows had turned back to help, though the effort looked hopeless. The remaining fires weren’t going to let mere mortals push them around.

I found Belinda’s bodyguards. They’d gone down where they were posted. They hadn’t bailed on her at all. Two were smoldering and dead. One was just plain dead. Two more were smoldering but alive, unconscious, in desperate need of help.

I discovered several more goombahs in like condition, alive but unconscious. “Morley! Over here! Problems bigger than those fires.” The goombahs were burning like that woman had. “How do we get them out?”

Dotes barked, “Theodore! Take Beans up front. See if you can’t get some help in here.” He bounced over beside me. “This is ugly, Garrett. Really ugly. Smells like sorcery.” Thugs crackled and popped.

“I don’t know. Grab his legs.” We huffed and puffed and dragged a man out to the ice bath. I reminded Morley about my meeting with Harvester Temisk.

“It had something to do with all this?”

“Maybe. But I don’t know where he’d fit. Cause or effect? Symptom or disease? On three. One. Two. Three.”

Ice water splashed. A kitten protested getting its feet wet. It strutted off indignantly, shaking each paw as it came off the floor.

The cat led us back into the main hall, where it bounded into the pail I’d used to bring the litter aboard. That pail was full of cats already, all with paws on the rim, watching anxiously. I shouted, “Just find somebody who’s breathing and get him out of here!”

Morley told me, “Grab your cats and go, Garrett. I’ll get these guys out. Hell! This one is gone now. Sharps! Give me a hand with this.”

Melondie Kadare appeared, wobbling worse than ever. “Help,” she whimpered. “I’m too ripped…”

“What’re you doing back inside?”

She squeaked. “I need to get my people out.”

“How many are in here? It’s going up.”

“What was I going to tell you? Shit. It’s hard to think straight when you’re messed-up. Oh. Yeah. You need to get away from here. The Watch are coming. Because of the fighting.”

“What fighting?”

“Outside… it went all to shit. I need to get out of here. But I’m ripped.”

“Hang on to me, then.”

Morley and his guys got out, carrying the last surviving bodyguard to the ice bath. I warned him, “Get going. Relway is coming.”

Where had Relway been? Belinda would’ve arranged a diversion. Something blatantly political. Deal Relway loves racialists less than gangsters.

Me and my pail roared through the back door. It was every-man-for-himself time. The coaches were gone. The parking area retained nothing but a dusting of large, ugly men who were either unconscious or dead. They had no friends to help them get away.

Morley faded into the night with his men, disappointed because their efforts had been wasted. Both bodyguards had died in the ice bath.

I made like the good shepherd myself, wondering about a batch of baby cats who would get together so their staff could lug them out of danger more easily.

Melondie Kadare started snoring. Brutally. I tucked her into a chest pocket.

It didn’t take long to realize that somebody was following me. Somebody either very good or blessed with a little magical assistance. I couldn’t shake him, nor did I manage to ambush him. Melondie Kadare kept on snoring. The kittens didn’t like delays. They got antsy when I tried to lie in wait. Then noisy when I fooled around too long. “You guys getting hungry?”

It was quiet tonight, the weather good despite the season. A big old moon up top silhouetted bats zipping around above the rooftops. There was a nip in the air. Scatters of cottony cloud tumbled across the sky. I didn’t think the bats would find many bugs. Winter wasn’t far away.

Melondie groaned and whimpered. “It’s your own fault, Bug.” In the distance, Whitefield Hall cast a cheery glow. The pixie crawled out of my pocket. She tried her wings. I caught her before she crashed, tried to put her away again. She wasn’t interested. She clung to my shoulder instead. But when I stopped to listen for footsteps she slithered inside my shirt. When you’re small you lose body heat fast.

“Don’t bounce around so much, Biggie. And keep them cats away.”

The streets remained deserted, which was unusual. TunFaire goes round the clock. But I was content. It’s nice when no sense of dark imminence hangs in the air.

“Hey, Bug. We’re almost home. And I’ve got an idea. How about you help me catch this spook that’s dogging us.”

“My head!” She groaned. “What you mean, us, Big’un?”

“All right. You. Because who the hell would be after me for a bucket of cats?”

“Smart-ass, All right. I’m listening. But keep your voice down. What’s the plan?”

The plan was, I plunked my little friend on a ledge, out of sight, then headed on along. I took a right at the next cross street, took another right and then another, and soldiered on until there I was, plucking my shivering sidekick off her ledge.

“Did you have to stop for a beer?”

“Whiner. I would have, if I’d seen a place. It’s past my time to start sipping. So, Bug. What’s the evil word? What wicked dark lord off the Hill is dogging me through the alleys of the night?”

“You’re so full of shit, Garrett. A blivit. Hell, the world’s first hyperblivit. Forty pounds of shit jammed into a ten-pound sack instead of just twenty.”