But there were police cars.
A small posse of policemen, or whatever the current collective noun was – troop? squad? – were organizing themselves into a flying wedge, with Captain Venner at their head. Some malign coincidence prompted him to look up just as Irene came into view, and he pointed a finger at her. She could hear his yell of, ‘Grab that woman!’ quite clearly.
Irene weighed re-entering the hotel against being dragged off to the police station. The police station won, hands down. She raised her hands.
‘Anything to say for yourself?’ Captain Venner demanded sourly.
Irene shrugged.
‘Well, lady, we’re keeping you in one of our hurry-up wagons here until we’ve sorted out this little trouble with the wolves, and then you’ll be going along to the station with us. And this time you’re going to be answering all my questions.’
Irene backed away. She wasn’t keen on being locked in a police car and kept within range of the wolves, or their master.
‘Cat got your tongue?’ Captain Venner asked. ‘You’ve not been shy of talking before.’
Irene touched her throat, and tried to make gestures suggesting that she was suffering from temporary but severe laryngitis. She looked as pathetic as she could possibly manage.
Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be working. Captain Venner had clearly already been fooled too many times in one day. ‘Bitters, Johns, you handcuff her and sit with her—’ he started.
Then the wolves burst out of the hotel. People scattered in all directions, screaming. There were only four of them now, but their muzzles and coats were marked with blood.
Captain Venner was a good enough cop to recognize that incoming wolves were the more significant threat. ‘Open fire!’ he shouted.
Irene took advantage of his distraction and ran down Fifth Avenue.
The wolves parted around the police like the sea around a breakwater – following her.
Traffic streamed down the street in a rush of metal and rubber and fumes. Others ahead of her, fleeing the rampaging wolves, were cramming themselves through the nearest open doors. The buildings of this New York rose above her like distant mountains, leaving her deep in their shadow. She cast around desperately for a way out. The traffic was an impassable barrier down the centre of Fifth Avenue, and all the doors she’d passed had been closed.
Irene was heading towards Museum Mile and the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and she knew she might be leading the wolves right towards Kai and Evariste. She needed a place to hide. But shop doors were slamming in front of her as the wolves howled, and no taxis answered her desperate waves.
The wolves howled again. The noise seemed just behind her. Irene fought against the temptation to turn round and see how close they were.
Then something slammed into her from behind. She went crashing down, and only her training made her roll with the fall and bring her elbow round in a counter-blow. It hit something – probably wolf – but then a pair of jaws had her forearm in a firm grip. It wasn’t enough to pierce the skin, but it let her know that option was definitely on the table.
One of the wolves was half on top of her, eyes watching her with an inhuman intelligence, its jaws clenched on her arm. The others were grouped around, waiting.
Irene fought for the ability to speak. Even normal language would have been sufficient. She could have tried to argue, to lie, to promise, to cajole, to beg – she might even have tried saying please. But nothing came.
Traffic flowed past. None of it stopped.
Irene looked up at the night sky above and let herself relax. A certain morbid curiosity made her wonder if the wolves would drag her all the way back to the St Regis Hotel and, if so, whether they’d do it by the legs, the arms or the scruff of the neck. Or perhaps they’d expect her to walk. In that case, they were going to have quite a wait.
‘There they are!’ someone yelled from the direction of the St Regis Hotel. Question answered. If the wolves couldn’t drag her, then human servants could, and nobody was going to interfere . . .
There was a screech of brakes as a car came to a stop, and a wild hooting of horns as every other vehicle objected. Evariste’s voice cut through the noise. ‘Wolves, get off her!’
The wolf that had Irene’s arm in its jaws released her, drawing back from her with a growl and shaking its head in frustration. The others withdrew a pace or two, moving with the slowness of creatures fighting against their orders. Irene scrambled to her feet, looking around with sudden wild hope.
Evariste and Kai were scrambling out of a taxi. Evariste was in his shirt sleeves, and had several large rectangular objects bundled in his arms, wrapped in his coat. Kai was striding towards her, wrath in every line of his body, and at the sight of him the wolves all put back their ears and snarled.
‘Down,’ Kai said. He snapped his fingers and pointed at the ground.
The wolves ignored his command and moved to circle Irene again, growls throbbing deep in their throats.
‘Are you threatening what is mine?’ Kai’s eyes glinted like rubies under the street lamps. Patterns of scales ran like frost-ferns along the blue-tinged skin of his hands and face, and his nails caught the light and gleamed like jewels. ‘Are you challenging me?’
And that was it. Kai had publicly involved himself in the situation. Irene was grateful for the rescue – there were no words to say how grateful – but this was one of the things she’d most wanted to prevent.
‘Your highness!’ Irene turned. That was Hu, together with two henchmen. Both gangsters had guns drawn. ‘This need not come to hostilities. You have meddled in my lord Qing Song’s private business, but he is willing to ignore that and return your property – if you will hand over the man with you.’
‘He is under my protection,’ Kai replied without a moment’s hesitation. ‘Your master will withdraw his wolves and return my colleague at once, or I will have his head for it.’
‘That will do very little good if she is dead,’ Hu replied. ‘And whether or not you would best him in a fight is open to dispute. I suggest that we negotiate, your highness. Otherwise both sides are likely to lose something to their advantage.’
Kai shot a glance at Irene. ‘Well?’ he demanded.
By now Irene had a good estimate of how sharp Hu was: he wouldn’t be suggesting that they all sit down and talk unless he expected to get the upper hand. Unless he was buying time for Qing Song and Jin Zhi to arrive. And she was powerless to warn Kai.
But she wasn’t entirely helpless.
And equally important was the fact that the dragons were watching each other, like Siamese fighting fish, considering each other as their main adversaries. Even Qing Song’s wolves were watching Kai now, rather than Irene.
Irene touched her throat and did her best to mime I can’t speak.