Asprin, Robert Lynn – Catwoman – Tiger Hunt (With Lynn Abbey)

Though the docks were a dozen blocks away, Catwoman listened for answering fire. She didn’t expect to head that way before going home, but one never knew. A wise person, no matter where they were or how they were dressed, paid attention to night sounds. The next sound she heard was a police siren screaming down Ninth Avenue, going somewhere in a big hurry, but not to the docks.

Selina relaxed and lowered herself onto the mission roof. Her claws made short work of the skylight’s security. She dropped into the stairwell, then froze and waited breathlessly. The noise had seemed horrendously loud in her own ears, but it raised no alarm.

Two hours later, after fruitlessly inspecting every nook and cranny into which a body could fit, Catwoman returned to the stairwell and sprang upward toward the open skylight. The molding sagged when her fingers clamped over it, but the old wood held and she pulled herself easily onto the deserted rooftop. Blending with the night sky and the satiny black of the asphalt roof, Selina pushed the mask back from her face. A gentle breeze, scented with salt from the riverfront, refreshed her as she considered her predicament.

Rose D’Onofreo wasn’t inside the mission. Remembering how she’d tried to hide under the sink, it was hard to imagine that she’d recovered and gone home.

The warble of an ambulance—markedly different from the whoop or shriek of a squad car or the airhorn belch of fire equipment—echoed off the nearby buildings. Before coming to Gotham, Selina would count the seconds between the sight of lightning and the sound of thunder; now she listened to the changing pitch and guessed which of the huge hospitals was its destination. The siren faded straightway; the vehicle hadn’t turned toward Gotham General. It was going all the way downtown to the university medical center. Whoever was inside was in a world of hurt.