Path of the Tiger, стр. 16
‘Idiot mortals,’ he growled when his victim finally expired, the dead man’s blood wet on his lips and glistening in globules on his moustache and goatee. ‘Now I’ll have to get rid of this mess.’ He glanced down at the pile of torn fabric that had been his suit, before his transformation into a jaguar had destroyed it, and shook his head. ‘And these fools made me ruin my suit. At least the pants are still usable,’ he muttered as he pulled the trousers on.
It was at that moment that an uncanny sensation rippled along his spine and sparked every nerve-ending in his body with sizzling static electricity. This was no passing chill; rather, it was an imminent, dire warning. In one swift movement he grabbed the dead skinhead’s pistol and spun around on his heels, aiming the muzzle at the neon-tinted mists that swirled their liquid dance between the streetlamps.
‘Gisborne!’ he called out. ‘It is you, isn’t it? I knew I’d eventually find you in this shithole of a city. Come out amigo, come out and play, eh? Just you and me, come on!’
When a clatter of tin cans rattled with the explosiveness of a snare drum roll just ahead of Pedro, he sprang nimbly to his left and fired a shot into a rolling bank of fog, the report echoing with a thunderous boom between the closely packed buildings. When he saw that it was just a terrified stray cat, he spat with angry frustration.
‘Damn you Gisborne!’ he roared. ‘Show yourself!’
As he noticed another stirring to his right, he stepped quickly to the side and fired two more shots into the darkness, the sharp cracks bouncing like frenetic pinballs through the spaces between buildings and then fleeing into the omnipresent aural chaos of the city. Still seeing no sign of his foe, he snarled and pressed his back up against a nearby wall, scanning the alley for a hint of his enemy’s presence.
‘Come on Gisborne, come out into the open! Come out, you coward!’ Pedro shouted as he advanced slowly down the alley. ‘Have you become so weak, such a shadow of who you once were, that you have to cower like this?’
Despite his aggressive words, a mite of fear was burrowing through his outer shield of bravado, and its bites stung more fiercely with each successive step. Raising his nose to the air he sniffed at the breeze, for even in this form his senses were far stronger than any human’s. He smiled as the scent of his enemy slithered up his nostrils, and he kept the firearm aimed ahead of him. If he transformed himself into his jaguar form at this point he would be able to pinpoint Gisborne’s presence immediately, but he did not want to relinquish the advantage that the gun gave him. No, he would stay in human form for this fight, for as long as was prudent, at any rate.
A maddeningly itchy bead of sweat trickled from his temple down his cheek as he crept forward, its tortuously slow passage down his skin amplifying his frustration; the scent was growing stronger with every step he took, yet there was still no sign of his enemy.
‘Gisborne, I’m right on top of you!’ he shouted. ‘You’d better start counting the seconds, because they’re gonna be the last few seconds that you—’
Pedro’s words were cut short as something enormous pounced on him from a shadow-veiled fire escape directly above. The impact sent him careening, and as he hit the concrete the pistol clattered from his hand and disappeared into the dark void of a sewer grate. Struggling to suck air into his winded lungs, he twisted his head to the side where he saw, stark and solid against the arterial red of a neon sign, the massive outline of a tiger.
Realising the dire severity of his position, Pedro transformed into his jaguar form, obliterating what remained of his suit. Scrambling to his feet, he let out a threatening growl and kept his body low to the ground, backing quickly away to put some distance between himself and the tiger. In his jaguar form Pedro weighed in at almost one hundred and forty kilograms, but his opponent was easily double that size. Nonetheless, this jaguar was a savage fighter with centuries of combat experience, and he had dispatched plenty of larger opponents than himself.
As the tiger advanced with unwavering intent, he locked eyes with the beast, watching keenly as he came into stark focus out of the red haze of mist. The huge cat let out a bone-chilling roar, and then broke into a furious charge.
Pedro waited until the last moment to move. The beast bore down on him with the velocity of an air-to-ground missile, but instead of springing headlong to meet his enemy’s challenge, Pedro twisted his body and jumped out to the side, with the tiger landing on the now-empty spot he had just occupied. In a gloriously fluid manoeuvre he rebounded off a wall and pounced onto the tiger’s back before it could turn, slamming his razor claws into his adversary’s flanks. Hanging on tightly to the thrashing creature, Pedro rejoiced with violent glee as bright blood stained his enemy’s black and orange coat.
Without relishing in the upper hand he now held, he lunged with his bear-trap jaws for the top of the tiger’s neck, aiming to sever the spinal cord and end the fight as quickly as it had started. However, before his teeth could even graze the tiger’s fur the beast launched himself backwards, springboarding off the ground with elephantine strength. Because of this, Pedro’s lunging bite missed its mark, and his teeth sank instead into his opponent’s shoulder. They did not stay embedded there for long though, for the two great cats, entwined in a deadly embrace, sailed backwards and