Lair of the Lion

building was overrun with felines. She clapped her free hand over one ear to drown out the increasing volume of the cats' cries. The lantern swung precariously, flickering and sputtering, and she held her breath, afraid the flame would go out. As she carefully righted the lamps, fights broke out, cats clawing at one another, a continuous yowling of starving animals desperate for food.
    The cats prowled, eyes glowing in the darkness. One leapt onto the shelves above her head, hissing and clawing at the air.
    Terrified, Isabella pressed herself against the door, trying to stay out of the animal's way.
    Ears flat against its head, the cat snarled at her, exposing long, sharp claws and needle-sharp teeth. Though pitifully small in comparison with a lion, the animal was still dangerous. The cat hissed and spit, its eyes feral. Without warning, it launched itself into the air, claws extended toward her face. Isabella screamed. She swung the lantern at the cat, connecting solidly and flinging the animal away from her. For one heart-stopping moment the light dimmed, flickered, the liquid wax-splattering across the floor. She held her breath, praying, until the flame steadied.
    The cat screeched, landed on its feet, and turned to snarl, crouching low as it watched her. The other cats hissed and yowled, the din frightful. Isabella didn't dare take her eyes from the cat stalking her. It was small, but it was wild and hungry. It could do much damage. She knew that if she stayed as she was, cowering against the door, others would join the bold one in attacking her. Summoning up every bit of courage she possessed, Isabella began to inch her way toward the nearest torch.
    At her movement, the cats became agitated, raking the air with their claws, spitting, hissing, the hair on their backs and tails rising. Some of them attacked one another. Two somersaulted from a shelf and landed with a thud at her feet. One struck out at her, raking across her shoes before leaping away. As she reached for the torch anchored to the shelving, one of the cats swiped at her arm, ripping the sleeve and laying open a long scratch.
    She lit the torch from the lantern's flame and held it high. At once the cats screamed in protest, most slipping back into the shadows. But a few of the bolder cats advanced on her, hissing their defiance. She swung the torch in a semicircle, retreating toward the door. After she made a few whirling passes, even the most aggressive animals stayed back. Only when she placed the lantern on the floor did she realize she was still screaming.

    Isabella slid down the door to sit on the floor, clapping a hand over her mouth, ashamed of her inability to stay calm. Loss of control was never allowed. She repeated the words in her mind, using her father's voice. Silent, she huddled on the floor, shaking from the cold, her hands and feet numb. She held the torch like a weapon, terrified it would burn out before Nicolai came for her.
    She had no idea how long she was actually in the storehouse—it seemed as if most of the night had passed. The lantern's candle had burned down to the size of her thumbnail, the flame sputtering. The torch was reduced to a glowing ember. Occasionally the cats ventured close to her, but for the most part they kept a respectful distance from the circle of light.
    She was too cold, too frightened to move when the door finally began to creak open.
    "Signorina Vernaducci?" Captain Bartolmei's tall frame filled the doorway, his eyes narrowing when he spotted Isabella.
    Isabella lifted her head, fearing she was hearing things. Her muscles were locked in place, and she couldn't find enough strength to get to her feet.
    Captain Bartolmei uttered a startled imprecation when his light spilled over her. At once he stepped inside, crouching beside her. "Everyone is looking for you. Don DeMarco sent a party out to the farm to find the woman Brigita said you aided. He is searching for you in the nearby forest while others scour the city."
    Isabella just looked up at him, afraid he was going to ask her to stand. It was physically impossible.
    "You're freezing, signorina." Captain Bartolmei removed his coat and put it around her shoulders, drawing her close to him to share his body heat.
    "I seem to be collecting your coats, signore." Isabella made a weak attempt at humor, but her shaking didn't stop.
    Bartolmei had to lift her, a most unseemly and humiliating moment in her young life.
    She couldn't manage more than