Chapter Eight
June 17th, 12:20 AM
"No!" Erin cried. "No, that's not true!"
Sunny giggled. "Oh, but I think it is, Miss Steele. Tell me: have you two ever been in the same place at once?"
Erin grimaced. It wouldn't have been terribly difficult to solve this question if she hadn't been so paralyzed with dread.
"I'll bet there's a mysterious overlap between times when Erin Steele leaves the house at night and times when the Blue Lynx comes out to play," Sunny said. "I guess that means you're ALWAYS in the same place at once, though, ha ha ha."
"Sunny," Erin said, through choked breaths. "You have no idea what you're talking about." She had to slow down. Control her pulse. Let Sunny know that she was in control.
Sunny finally removed her hand from Erin's hair. She stepped back, gazed at her captive, and smiled broadly.
"I'm almost kind of curious what sort of bullshit alibi you have cooked up. I'm sure you've come up with a lot over the years. But you're not convincing me of anything, Erin Steele. I know who you really are."
The battle between Eric's panicking interior and her attempted cool, collected exterior was reaching a furious climax. Nevertheless, she spoke.
"This theory of yours is insane, Sunny. Look at me. Tied up like this. I'm no crimefighter. The Blue Lynx would've been able to break through these ropes in seconds."
Sunny shook her head. "I doubt it. I think she's exactly as weak as you, Erin Steele. But please continue."
Erin tried to block out the comment. "I mean, have you seen the Blue Lynx in action? With all those gadgets? Where would I get all those gadgets from, huh?"
"You have a supplier, that's all," Sunny replied. "A weapons expert."
"A weapons expert? Really? I'm twenty-three years old! I just graduated from college a year ago. I don't even have a proper mechanic, never mind a 'weapons expert.' The Blue Lynx is someone with connections."
"You're telling me you're not connected?" Sunny asked. "You're Mayor Steele's daughter. Anything you want, Daddy will get it for you."
"And that's another thing," Erin said, trying to change the subject; she didn't like where this line of thinking was going, "You keep saying stuff about my dad, about me helping him out. But honestly, I could care less about politics. It bores me. My dad's little rivalry with Brent Hammerson? I really don't give a shit."
Sunny glared at her. "Then why are you here? At Brent Hammerson's house?"
"For fun," Erin said. "It was something dumb to do. Crash a rich guy's party. Break into his secret files."
"All for fun, eh?" Sunny said. "Well then, how do you explain Miss Bobcat here?" She pointed at Margot, whose head was still rolling on its shoulders, in and out of consciousness.
"That's easy," Erin said. It was time to take a gamble. "That's not the real Black Bobcat. That's my roommate, Margot."
"What?"
"Go ahead, take off her mask and see. She's a cosplayer. The Black Bobcat is one of the characters she dresses up as. She was here at the party, too. And she must have stumbled down here when she couldn't find me."
"Stumbled down here... in costume?"
"You'll have to ask her," Erin said, picking up steam. "She's kind of weird. But she's no superheroine. Being surprised like that? Not something that would happen to the real Black Bobcat."
"And yet, she took out both of my guards."
"Well, she does do a karate. She's a red belt, I think."
Sunny had been shaking her head on and off for the past several minutes. "This is pretty entertaining, Miss Steele, but you still haven't persuaded me one inch. The little story you've concocted is threadbare. I won't even try to poke holes into it, because it's barely worth my time."
"Your story doesn't need me to poke holes in it," Erin declared. "It's all based on stupid little coincidences that don't mean anything. You're basically saying that I'm the Blue Lynx because we both have black hair. You don't have any proof."
"Proof?" Sunny said. "Proof?" She squatted down in front of Erin, once again placing her face between her prisoner's bare, spread knees. "How about this for proof? I keep you here, in my basement, for the next couple of weeks. No, months. And we'll see, in that time, if the Blue Lynx ever once makes an appearance in the city."
Erin squirmed. "You're not keeping me here for months, Sunny."
Sunny grinned evilly. "Oh, but I will, Erin Steele. If it means the end of the Blue Lynx, I'll do whatever it takes..."
She glanced at the metal box, still attached by four wires to Erin's legs and breasts.
"Maybe we should force a confession out of you with our little friend, here..."
"Maybe you should let her go."
It was a new voice. Low, authoritative, male... familiar. It came from behind the guards. Sunny spun around to face it.
"Who the hell are you?" she cried.
Erin didn't need to hear his answer. She had seen the man before. She dreamed about his hard body, his chiseled face, and his shimmering, golden costume every other night. She dreamed-- and she had nightmares.
The man cleared his throat and said. "I'm the Spaniel."
On to Chapter Nine
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