“s**t,” the man said again. He fumbled with the beamer control, far too slowly, of course, because, yowling, Tybalt launched himself at the man’s face. Claws slashed, blood sprayed, and my captor stumbled back, off-balance, screaming in pain. He tripped over his own feet and hit the floor hard, the back of his head slamming into the metal with a force that made me wince. He lay still, blood streaming from his face.
“Is he dead?” I said, both horrified and impressed.
“Probably not,” Tybalt said indifferently. He turned and padded over to me. “We should go.”
“Uh . . . yeah.” I rattled my magnetic cuffs against the cage. “About that . . .”
“One moment.” Tybalt trotted over to the man and poked his nose at something on the man’s belt. The cuffs released. I pulled my arms back in front of m
