Posted by PK on October 20, 2001 at 18:00:21:
Amanda wasn't fooled but politely declined to notice. This could take hours if she let it. "I'll
just lay it out," she said helpfully, "And you just jump in if I get it wrong. Or ask questions
after, okay? There will be a test."
Carol nodded.
"I'm going to hunt you. You run, you get a head start, I chase. If I catch you I'll kill you and
eat you. This is not a drill." Her eyebrows rose a fraction.
Carol nodded again.
"You okay with that?"
Carol to reason, come in. You can always appeal to reason but sometimes it doesn't answer.
"Uh..."
"Look, are you feeling all right?" The catwoman came closer. Carol could smell her. "If
they've drugged you..."
"I'm fine," Carol lied.
"It's just that they act like it's fixed," Amanda went on. "I'm not having anything to do with that
kind of deal. You can see how it would work for them, can't you? No blood, no sale."
Carol at last looked directly into Amanda's eyes. Clear green, made vivid by something gold
and something dark mixed in. Not yellow, like a tiger's eyes. A tiger would eat you and not
care who you were. Amanda cared, Carol knew, and she would eat her with all the more
relish for it. She concentrated on what the woman had said. "Fixed?"
Amanda gave her a brief nod. "Either that or they think the outcome is inevitable. Well,
naturally I hope I'll catch you and I'll do my best, but it's hardly that. If there's no chance, it's
not a hunt, is it?"
"No..." Carol was surprised to note that her voice had almost come back to its normal pitch
and steadiness. "I suppose not. They told me..." She halted. Where to start? Amanda gave
her a look of quizzical encouragement. She took a breath. "They said the..ah..quarry usually
wins. I mean, gets away..."
Amanda nodded again, her expression friendly but serious. "Technically correct, the quarry
survives more often than not. That's just statistics, of course. It depends who's involved." She
openly appraised Carol. "You look fit enough, under normal circumstances you should have a
good chance against the average hunter unless you get careless or silly. The thing is, I'm not
the average hunter."
I think I'd worked that out already, Carol thought.
Amanda acknowledged this as if she'd said it aloud. "I do a bit better than most." she
admitted.
"How much better?"
"Difficult to quantify," Amanda said a little diffidently. "I don't really study the stats, it's not my
interest. Somebody did tell me I was the hunter with the highest kill ratio ever. I don't know
whether it's true." Both of them suspected it was. Neither, for different reasons, said it.
What Amanda was looking for, hidden there in the undergrowth by her stripy disguise, was
the connection. It had worked with Rachel, it should work now. The players were different, the
tools varied, but the song remained the same. Carol, bless her, was out there playing her
part. As she watched, listened and scented the air a random thought intruded on her stillness.
A fey mood caught her and she shot off an ether-mail to Pan. Send me the bunny, God of
the Wood. Cernunnos aid me. Her teeth showed in a smile that sent clouds across the sun
and scurring away. The rabbit almost took her by surprise, she heard it coming a fraction of a
second before it ran over her. Reflexes took over and she snapped the pursuing stoat out of
the air like a frog catching a fly, her grip broke its back instantly.
"Oh, good one," she muttered. "Now get this, smart arse, you own me." She thought about it
for a minute and reconsidered. "Or not." She bit the stoat's head off and drank its blood from
the neck. Herne had sent this one, surely.
"Aperitif," she thought. "Main course to come..."
Briefly, she considered painting her face with the animal's blood but decided that was just a
little too much. Primal chic was a bit declasse. De trop.
That resolved, her sophisticated, rationalising mind settled back to wait this one out.
"Good bloody riddance," primal Amanda snarled. Not before time. Was that a scent?
Carol knew she was taking a risk by moving at all, but she was thirsty. She should be safe
enough, she had heard no sounds of pursuit. Her outfit was surprisingly comfortable, the
halter was supposed to help her run without her breasts interfering and it worked very well.
Not much protection, though. She didn't suppose that mattered, if Amanda caught her a
support bra wouldn't help her any more or less than a suit of armour. Maybe I should take it
off, she thought idly. Running won't help either if she's close enough to see me in this place.
It was hard to suppress the voice in the back of her mind that told her she might as well strip
off now and lie down, and it was an effort of will for her to remember where and when she'd
first felt that. It had started when Amanda visited her in the dressing room. Was that why she
had come? To defeat her before the battle had begun?
She remembered...