When Alfred entered the bedroom again, he found the young master he had served for over twenty years lying in the hospital bed in an extremely stiff position, eyes tightly shut, breathing in a Cheyne-Stokes pattern, facial muscles completely relaxed. It was practically a textbook demonstration of a coma.
If the two figures locked in a mutual death grip beside the bed hadn't been so conspicuous, he might almost have believed Bruce Wayne really had passed out and needed emergency treatment.
"You ill-mannered Gotham alley cat!"
Talia's right hand clamped around Selina Kyle's throat like an iron vise. Selina's whip had wrapped three times around her left hand, its tip digging deep into the muscles of her forearm, but she was still desperately trying to claw Selina's face.
"Ill-mannered?"
Selina's voice had turned hoarse under the pressure on her throat, but her right hand was likewise clamped over Talia's carotid artery, her nails almost piercing the skin. Her other hand yanked Talia's hair backward. "You barged into someone else's boyfriend's bedroom, and what kind of reception did you expect? Should I serve you tea?"
"Boyfriend?"
Talia sneered. Though she was at a slight disadvantage, her innate arrogance hadn't diminished in the slightest.
"When I first met Bruce, you were still scavenging for food in Gotham's garbage heaps. I bore him a child-and you? Aside from stealing and flaunting yourself, what have you ever done for him?"
A child?
Selina's eyes and those of the supposedly unconscious Bruce Wayne shifted at the same time.
"You bore him a child?" Selina shrieked, refusing to back down. "More like you stole his 'essence' and processed it yourself."
"You streetwalking bitch!"
"You slut from the mountains!"
Both women exerted force at once. Talia's fingertips dug deeper into Selina's neck, only for her opponent to