Damsel[ed]: No Rescue Required

Chapter 37: Dramatic Reveals Star Wars Style

Angelos.

My face hurts. Again.

"Fallout!" the man calls, dragging me along like I'm an oversized teddy bear. I stay limp, Owl's hand trailing through my hair. I hate all this petting. These villains need a cat, a long-furred one to be exact.

Gatsby's familiar hum of Journey rings through the air like church chimes, and I crack my eye open. Get out of here! I scream it over and over in my head in case he's a telepath. The hall thins, the white walls like the confines of a shoebox. The shadow of Gats with a limp Heaven in his arms stings my eyes. He presses himself against a wall, head bowed as he recites the lyrics of 'Faithfully' like a prayer. 

My heart hammers. This is the guy who shrugged off my panic attack like it was an everyday occurrence. For him to act so motherly makes me feel weird, like I'm intruding on something intimate. Heaven and Gats are my best friends, I don't mind third-wheeling for their sakes. Even if I once crushed on Hev, I'm glad for Gats, he's a good guy, better than that Poison character.

And I hope Hev's okay. If anything happens to her, I don't know what I'll do. I came so close to losing Gats, I don't want to lose her too.

Gats looks up. His eyes widen and he squeaks when he sees me. I almost laugh. I look that bad, huh?  

He crouches, ears pinned as he backs away. "What did you do to him? Let him go!" It takes a few moments to realize the 'him' is me, and when I do, I feel oddly detached. It's weird. 

"That's cute," Pseudo-Gal says, waving a hand at Gatsby, "it's possessive, like a true cat. Did June find a way to give it feline instincts, or is that natural to the project's personality?"

It? My blood grows hot. He's not an 'it!' Cat ears don't make him any less human! Well, at least not morally.  I think of June and my pulse quickens. Does she care I'm missing? The first time Gats pulled a disappearing act she completely flipped out. She called the police, right? Right. And told them about her part in illegal genetic engineering. I doubt that.

"I'm not sure," the man says. A mass of shadows creep from the end of the hall, one much smaller than the others. Gats breathes in a lungful and tenses. My heart thuds. He's just as trapped as I am. Heaven's completely still, almost lifelessly so. Chills race up my spine. She can't be dead, can she?

Gats races around the corner. His shadow melts into the others, and my heart stops. He screams. A struggle plays out on the silhouettes before he breaks into muffled cat-wails. The heck? No. I won't let him get hurt again.

I slam my foot into my captor's shin and elbow him in the ribs. His grip loosens, freeing my wings. I beat them like a madman and tear away, skidding over the slab. Pseudo-Gal gives chase, but she's too slow. I barrel around the corner, tripping over a stationary Cat.

She yelps. I scramble for balance, but for the second time in the last hour, I'm on my face. If I were any more clumsy I'd be Bella Swan. 

(Heaven bought me Twilight for Christmas. I wanted to put it down, but I couldn't. That thing was black magic.)

My body's on fire, and I'm so exhausted I can barely find the strength to move. A familiar woman kneels beside me, her long blonde hair shielding her face. I yelp, scrambling to stand. She grabs a fistful of my mane, tugging my head back. Spit.

Dingo and Mack lean against a wall. Oh, great. Huey, Dewy, and Luie. Just what I need.

I squint. A tall, gray-haired villain cups his hand over Gats' mouth, my friend flailing and slashing for leeway. I sputter to speak, searching the room for a sign of Heaven. I find her collapsed over Jaylin's shoulder. I grind my teeth. How could I be so stupid? Jaylin is evil. Simple as that. Instead of helping my friends she led them into a trap, and we're all as good as dead.