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Venom: Beautiful Killers. Part 28.

"...shelter...."

Tivoli has been the center of attention for the last half hour. On the way to Mr. McDaniels' second home, she sat in the front seat with Paraná right behind her. She smiled and preened herself the entire way, enticing the mark to talk to her. Her handler has now allowed her to talk to the human; Tivoli spoke in short, soft sentences. She shyly answers every question that McDaniels asks, from how old she is to where she goes to school. The answers sound well-rehearsed and a little too convenient, but the mark doesn't care.

The area that the mark drives them to is not gated, but the surrounding hills and valleys make it look secluded. Once the car is parked, Tivoli looks around her and smiles. It seems that this kind of place is familiar to her. She leaves the car and happily takes a deep breath. Even though the evening is muggy and uncomfortable, she giggles in approval.

Paraná quickly puts his hands on her shoulders and whispers, "Act your age." He looks at her worriedly and she quickly gets the hint. She tightens her mouth closed, trying not to let any more adult sounds escape. The jaguar sighs and slowly releases his grip. Luckily, the mark suspects nothing. "Be careful," he says softly.

"She's a spitfire all of a sudden," McDaniels says. "When last we met, she was not in the talkative mood. I wonder what's changed."

"She likes you now." The jaguar nods confidently at his answer, even as he knows it's not true. "I told her how much money you were worth and how much you would be willing to give her if she would leave home and work for you for a while. She likes money, so she's eager to go."

"That's a good girl." He retrieves a ring of keys from his pocket and crouches to look into Tivoli's eyes. "I tell you what. I'll open the door and you lead the way inside. Okay?"

The ocelot nods and McDaniels opens the door. With Paraná close by, she is able to act like she is glad to be there. She wastes no time being the first inside the mark's house. She clasps her hands behind her and looks around, gasping at the huge chandelier above her. The men follow her in.

The house looks like the typical suburban dwelling with very little out of the ordinary. There is the typical coffee table, couch, beanbag chair, flat screen television with a shelf of DVDs, and another shelf filled with books. The extravagances of the mark's earlier house are not as noticeable here. Besides the chandelier, the living room has more in common with that of a homeowner with a regular nine-to-five job. It is a simpler and more familiar place to live in.

McDaniels pats Paraná's back as he passes him. "I've been waiting for this moment since the unfortunate incidents on Wednesday. I usually don't like parting with money. I prefer my clients to pay everything up front, but I've made an exception in your case." He opens the bookshelf and pulls out a couple of thick stacks of green paper. Tivoli, who had been admiring the television, gets a glance at the money and instantly has her interests diverted. She follows the transaction with her eyes.

The mark laughs as he approaches the jaguar. "This is fifty thousand, half the agreed-on total. The buyers have the other half. Like I said on Wednesday, your Betina is worth much more than that, but I'm betting you and her immediate family could live on this for the rest of the year. " He laughs again as Paraná takes the money. "So, is everything satisfactory?"

"And then some." Paraná loudly sniffs the money in his hands and nods with understanding. "I can safely say we have a deal."

"Excellent. I'm only sorry that we cannot truly celebrate this transaction. Later this evening, I'll be heading out of town with Eric, the man who wants to buy Betina's services. She'll be coming with us and...let me assure you, she will be in very good hands."

Tivoli stands by the couch and nervously watches them talk about her. She is partially focused on the money, but really pays attention to her handler, who is really into the act. They talk like she is invisible. The conversation deals with the terms of the business deal. Most of the words go over the ocelot's head, but for all she knows, Paraná is setting McDaniels up properly for his demise. She observes them for a minute, then decides to turn on the television.

The loud noise distracts the men momentarily, but not for long. "Well, I've made my move," McDaniels says. "Now it's time for Eric to make his. Would you like to see him in person? He'll give you the rest of the money then."

The jaguar nods in agreement. "Is Betina staying here?"

"She'll be fine. We don't want Eric touching her until he's paid his share."

Paraná walks up to Tivoli and kisses her forehead, saying good-bye. She smiles at the men as planned, playing her role without any problems. The jaugar, however, looks tense. He smiles back uncomfortably at his apprentice, then sulks as he trails the mark out the door. Even though he has money in his pockets, he has nothing to smile about. The hit is about to happen. He closes the door behind him while McDaniels leads him to the driveway. "It's not that far to the hotel. We should be there in fifteen minutes."

With the mark's back in front of him, Paraná raises his shirt, exposing a small, dark pistol holstered in his trousers. (A gun is usually not his style. He prefers to kill with his bare hands.) He unhooks it from his body and gently holds it in his right hand. He approaches the mark while he is unlocking his car; the mark does not suspect a thing. Paraná sighs and starts to raise his gun, but quickly lowers it when McDaniels waves at a neighbor. The jaguar replaces the gun and sighs with dread.

"Good evening, Mr. Wilson. I wonder if I could ask a favor of you."

While the neighbors talk, Paraná shrugs and gets into the passenger seat. He waits patiently, a little embarrassed that he tried to pull the trigger out in the open. It is another missed opportunity, but it is also a bad time to get the job done. He adjusts his weapon so if feels comfortable as he is seated. He prepares himself for the upcoming task while continually glancing at the house in front of him. He worries about Tivoli, but does not leave the car to check on her.

McDaniels converses with his neighbor for about five minutes before they part ways. When he enters the vehicle, he is smiling from ear to ear. "That's Mr. Wilson," he says. "I've asked him to make sure my mail doesn't pile up while I'm away. The inflexibility of my job ensures that I'll be gone for a few days. I usually travel abroad, but this time, I'll be staying in the States." He starts the car and pulls away from the driveway. He is slow enough to allow Paraná one more long look at the mark's house. Tivoli is being left alone once again.

Once McDaniels drives off, he tries to start a conversation. He talks about his past life, the things he did before he became who he is today. He talked about his first run-ins with the law and how he has managed to escape capture all of this time. Throughout the speech, the jaguar looks straight ahead and shows little interest. He is still contemplating the hit, which is getting more difficult to procure. It seems McDaniels is never alone, and when he is, the time is inconvenient. Paraná is so wrapped up in negative thoughts that he is not really paying much attention.

Before the jaguar knows it, McDaniels has suddenly driven somewhere off-road. Where there was once a paved road with traffic lights, stop signs, and businesses has now become a dirt road with no street lights or signs, a few trees, and clouds of dust. Paraná can hardly see up ahead of him; the headlights are not on. "Are we lost?" he asks.

"No, we're right where we should be." The human pulls over and stops the vehicle.

"Is...the buyer going to meet us here?"

McDaniels extinguishes the engine. "Well...yes and no. He's going to meet me. He's not going to meet you...."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

[I've been dozing off and waking up, dozing off and waking up, over and over again for a couple of hours. I've been having numerous dreams, most of them unmemorable. (Hoeness was talking to a female dog, probably a love interest; Pica and Dunn were still planning to extort money from Winter; Pamila was cleaning the chief's office while imbibing on a bottle of beer she brought from the outside.) The latest one, however, continues the dominant anecdote, and not a moment too soon. It seems a bit silly, but I have been awaiting closure for a while now. The felines are in too deep, so somebody is bound to get hurt sooner or later.]

[I know it's been a long time since I've been up and around, but I just don't feel like getting out of bed. Frankly, I wish it were my own bed. I can't wait to get out of here. Closing my eyes now. I wonder what McDaniels meant....]

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

With the remote control in one hand and a glass of water in the other, Tivoli channel surfs her time away. Her thumb presses on the "channel up" button quickly and urgently, as if she is looking for a program she forgot was on. Her face does not have the usual bounce or flair that has come to define her. She looks worried, completely ill at ease. Either she is really intent on finding that TV station she is looking for, or she is nervously waiting for Paraná to return.

Every couple of minutes, she turns her head to the front door and looks at it for a few seconds. The wait has been tough on her. Her body is as rigid as a board, her ears are at constant attention, and her breaths are quickening. Every time she looks and sees nobody coming through the door, her face shows more wrinkles of worry and doubt. Even though she is showing great concern, she never bothers to leave her seat to check the window. She does not try anything that could possibly relieve her stress. More channel surfing time passes.

A sudden, stray sound from the outdoors causes Tivoli to jump. She drops the remote and turns to the door once again. She stares at it, thinking hopeful thoughts. The sound was the horn of a car; it was close enough to get the ocelot's attention, but it does not produce the desired effect. The look on her face shows that her handler has now been gone for quite a long time.

Her hands start to shake. It starts as a soft twitching that eventually turns into a small tremor. She tries to fight it by tightly gripping her clothes. She simply grabs the pleats of her skirt with both hands and holds her breath. It seems to work after a while. Her worry lines disappear. She sits up straight and looks at the door again. Instead of frowning though, this time she smiles, releases her skirt, and puts her hands on her lap. "He'll come back," she says to herself, before refocusing on the television.

At this point, the door opens. Tivoli quickly stands. Her face has a satisfied, congratulatory smile on it. She anticipates her fellow feline telling her that the job is done. She races to the front door excitedly, but only stops in front of it. She is so happy that she doesn't quite know what to do. Her emotions boil over and she starts to giggle.

Unfortunately for her, it is the mark, not the jaguar, who steps through the door. Arlo McDaniels comes in, humming softly to himself. He is missing his mohair coat and black tie, but he still has on the white cotton shirt he had been wearing underneath the coat. The shirt shows off his noticeable beer belly. He looks none the worse for wear. As a matter of fact, it hardly looks like Paraná even touched him. He closes the door and looks around. It does not take him long to see the surprised ocelot standing right in front of him, looking like she has just been robbed. Her mouth is open wide, her deep, dark eyes are pacing the human, and her hands droop to her sides.

McDaniels obviously feels differently. "Hello, darling," he says with a big smile. He slowly walks over to her and gently places his hands on her shoulders. "I hope you haven't been waiting long." He slowly tightens his grip, causing her to look into his eyes. His sleazy smile shows off a set of bright teeth. "I meant to come sooner, but...the negotiations were tricky."

The disappointment on the ocelot's face is clear; the mark is still alive. His heavy-handed greeting is uncomfortable to her. She isn't able to turn away from him, so she simply looks away. "Where's Paraná?" she asks, using her "kid" voice.

"Oh, he's still with Eric, the man you'll be leaving with later tonight." He chuckles and releases her. "You'll like him. He's an affable gent...and he's paying top dollar for your services. He's buying you on looks alone and your good looks are going to get him a lot of interested customers." He watches her back away from him. She is looking at the door behind him, still expecting Paraná to show up.

"Still," McDaniels continues, "I'm wondering how well you'd do when you're called to action. After all, just because you look gorgeous doesn't mean you'll...perform well. On my way here, I started wondering if you're worth all that money we're spending for you." He quickly closes in on and reaches out for her and holds her left hand in his right hand. "Then I thought...why not have you show what you're made of?"

Tivoli looks at him confusedly, trying to piece together what he means. But she is not allowed to think for long. He quickly leads her through the living room and into another room nearby. She is taken to the dining room, a room that is also only furnished with the basics. In the middle of the room is a simple wooden table surrounded by four chairs made of the same material. Besides the cabinets along the walls, there is not much in the way of decoration. The ocelot looks around, forced forward by the mark's arm around her shoulders. She is led to the table.

"Have a seat," he says. "You seem a little tense. I'll try to cure you of that."

She picks the nearest chair and sits down. Her breath shakes as she looks up at him. "Where is Paraná?"

"I've already told you. He is with Eric, getting his money. Besides what we pay him today, your uncle is going to receive a monthly stipend --a part of the money you bring in. Your uncle, and your parents, are going to be very, very wealthy." He steps away from her and heads to one of the drawers at the far side of the room.

She looks on with suspicion, with the feeling that something bad has happened. She is starting to sense that he is not being totally truthful. "When's he coming back?" she asks. Her voice sounds heavier than before, almost her normal tone. She clears her throat, also almost like normal. It seems she is getting closer to dropping the schoolgirl act altogether.

"We're going to him in a half hour," he answers. "Be patient." He turns to her eagerly. "Would you like something to eat?" He laughs as she quickly shakes her head. "No, huh?" He closes the drawer and moves closer to her, causing her to quickly stand. "Come with me. I have a small gift for you."

Tivoli is hardly eager to go anywhere with him, but reluctantly obliges and follows him through the dining room and into the kitchen. He stops to pick up an apple from the refrigerator, then continues out of the kitchen and through a pair of doors. He flicks a light switch and brightens the next room. It is a bedroom, less gaudy than the ones in his bigger house. It has a more intimate atmosphere; it feels warmer than the other rooms and the light is dimmer. While he enters, she stays behind and starts to slowly back away.

"Well? Don't just stand there. Come inside." He is not looking at her, but is fluffing the pillows on the king-sized bed. It looks like he is getting ready for bed even though he is dressed for a business meeting. "Like I've said, I've got something for you. I left you some money on the dresser over there." He points to his left. Tivoli is not too far away and looks at where the man is pointing. Sure enough, there are five one hundred dollar bills hanging precariously at the edge of the mahogany dresser at the far corner of the room. The ocelot is still wary, but after a minute of looking at the bills, she sneaks into the room.

"This setting is...pretty much...how it is going to be for you from now on. That five hundred dollars is just the start. You should expect to bring in a lot more than that in a day. Most of the good-looking ones bring in five figures a night. There's no reason you can't do the same." He straightens the bed until there are no more creases showing on the bed sheet. Then he turns to see the ocelot pick up the money. Even though she is somewhere she does not want to be, the money easily lures her inside.

For now, the mark is at a distance, so Tivoli can safely ignore him as she counts and inspects the bills. She really is short on cash and every little bit would help at this point. A slight smirk comes across her face. "I get to keep this?"

"Of course," he says.

She gasps in alarm; his voice is closer than she anticipated. She turns around slightly and sees that he is right behind her. She is already totally unprepared, so when he places his hands on her shoulders, she starts to panic.

"If you perform to my satisfaction, I'll give you more money right now." After caressing her shoulders for a bit, he puts his arms around her waist and leans his chest against her back. The sensation causes her knees to bend and she drops the money on the dresser. She places her hands on the piece of furniture so she can keep on her feet. A weak "No" comes out of her mouth.

"What does that mean? Are you saying that you don't want the money?" He slides his hands up and down her trunk, causing her to squirm. She closes her mouth, trying to make her reaction sounds less audible. Right now, there is no reaction she is making that gives her real age away. In fact, she is acting like she has never been touched like that before. Soon, the mark had slid his hands down to her thighs.

He is pressing her against the dresser, so she is having trouble getting away. While she digs her fingernails into the dresser, he chuckles happily. "I think you ocelots are beautiful creatures. Many kits, such as yourself, have made millions. It's no wonder." His left hand caresses her left ear while his right hand starts to slide down into her skirt. Before he can reach whatever he is trying to reach, Tivoli muscles her way out of his grasp. She trips as she tries to run away and lands on her knees next to the bed. She presses her thighs together and covers her crotch with her hands. The way she is breathing makes her sound like she is in pain.

"Aw, come now." McDaniels immediately goes to her, taking off his shirt as he does so. "Don't act like that. I mean, sure, you're a virgin and all, but you can't tell me that it didn't feel good. Come on, stand up." He sits on the bed and watches her. The ocelot is still crouched, closing her legs and shaking heavily. There is slight whimpering escaping her lips.

"Tell you what," he says as he takes off his shoes, "I'll lie down and you get on top of me, and...we'll just go from there."

He stretches himself on the bed. Tivoli is to his right, still crouched and still scared. He patiently waits, giving her some time to recover. It takes a couple of minutes, but she starts to breathe normally, her shaking diminishes, and she stops whimpering. Not surprisingly though, she does not want to stand. He chuckles some more as he watches her cover her privates, then reaches out to caress her cheek.

Tivoli winces, but does not move away. She looks up at him and opens her mouth as if she wants to say something. She stutters, but instead turns to face the door. It is her only means of escape. It also just happens to be open.

He scoffs. "What? You wanna go? Where are you possibly going to? We're the only ones here, and there's nobody out there for you right now. Look, the sooner you do what I say, the sooner we'll go to your uncle. And won't he be pleased when I tell him that you make love like a pro."

The ocelot swallows nervously and slowly stands. She tries hard to fight her buckling knees, but manages to stand up straight. Still lying on the bed, McDaniels reaches out to stroke her right leg. His hand slowly rubs her thigh, slightly sneaking up her skirt.

"You feel really nice," he says. "There aren't too many as soft as you are."

Tivoli looks up at the ceiling. Her face is covered with fear and confusion. She is trapped and he knows it. She is trying not to let her nervousness show and keeps her head up, hiding it from the mark. Then his hand reaches further up. She swallows and, half whispering, utters, "Please don't make me do this."

"Hmm? What you say?"

The ocelot clears her throat and swallows yet again. "Nothing."

"Come here, girl. Let's make you a woman."

Her face stiffens in anger and her nostrils blow out a rush of air. She looks at the man, who has now removed both his cotton shirt and his undershirt. He looks readier now than ever. The ocelot nods fiercely and slowly straddles McDaniels' waist. He squares himself on his back and grabs her thighs. She breathes heavily and balances herself on top of him. Because of his girth, she is having some trouble keeping upright. She grits her teeth as she slowly starts to fall forward; she stops herself by placing her hands on his chest.

The mark clearly likes that. He wastes no time and inserts his hands underneath her white blouse. He hardly bothers with unbuttoning it, but he does not need to. He reaches in and starts to fondle her breasts. Whimpering, she keeps her hands on his chest and lets him have his way. She closes her eyes and bows her head, making his handfuls of her chest a lot easier to obtain.

He has giant hands, but fondles her gently and does not cause any pain. Tivoli's hands shake and clutch onto his chest. He gasps slightly but does not stop the massage. Now her head starts to shake. Her eyes narrow and she starts to growl. The noise is soft and unsure, a combination of anger and fear. Her fingers press against his chest; her nails slightly dig on his skin.

"That's right. Keep purring like that." He slides his hands from her front to her back and eventually slides them down. Tivoli moans softly, then suddenly covers her mouth with both her hands. She shakes her head vigorously, mad at herself. Clearly something happened that she slightly agreed with. Encouraged, McDaniels smiles and grips her waist with both hands. "Now give me a kiss." He slowly raises himself up, holding the ocelot in place.

She has no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist and sit on top of him. They look at each other, his eyes brighter and livelier than hers. She puts her hands down at her sides and unwillingly leans forward. Their noses touch as she takes her time deciding what to do. He keeps his smile intact and patiently waits for her. Seconds later, she quickly leans in and plants a small kiss on his nose. She withdraws quickly, hoping not to do that again.

The kiss was unexpectedly brief and clearly not what McDaniels had in mind. He smirks with anticipation and presses his hands on the ocelot's backside. "Now, kiss me like a woman." This time, he leans his face close to hers. She clearly feels repulsed, but does not turn away. She presses her mouth closed as his lips start to touch hers. Her hands grip her skirt as she resists, but it does not last long. Seconds later, they are kissing. With his eagerness, the kiss is loud, passionate, and a bit messy.

Tivoli's own right hand goes up her skirt just as the kissing slowly comes to an end. McDaniels is now nibbling on her neck while he tries to unbutton her shirt. He fumbles a bit, but continues unabated. She pants angrily and starts to growl again, but does not fight his efforts. Soon, he has parted the blouse and can see her breasts hidden in the green sports bra. "Little girls are growing up so much faster these days." He puts his hands on her breasts again lays down. "Now, I'll get to see what your first suitors will see tomorrow. I'm gonna take your top off."

Tivoli looks at his never-ending smile and frowns. She doesn't seem to be reacting and keeps her hands on her sides. His hands, in contrast, are lowering the straps of the brassiere. She breathes heavily and nods, then lowers herself to him. It looks like she is about to kiss him again.

"That's right, come here." The mark laughs and lowers the straps further. He purses his lips, expecting that kiss. He quiets himself and caresses her shoulders while her lips touch his. After giving him a small peck, she raises herself up, to his disappointment. "That's all? You'll have to do better than that. "

Out of nowhere, a slight clicking noise jumps from beside the bed. It is followed by another click.

The mark looks to his left inquisitively. "What...was that?"

"This!" Tivoli raises her right hand and strikes it down. The knife plunges halfway into his bare chest before he knows what is going on. She removes it immediately and with so much force that she falls off of him and off the bed.

The euphoria of having the ocelot on top of him causes a delayed reaction, and McDaniels does not realize what has happened until seconds later. Suddenly, he starts shouting in pain and reaches up to the stab wound. It is on the left side of his chest, right below the nipple. "What the hell is...." He notices the ocelot fumbling with her skirt. "What did you just do to me?!"

Panting loudly, almost hyperventilating, Tivoli forces the tan holster from her right thigh and throws it at McDaniels. As he swats it away, she jumps at him and stabs him again. The distraction allows her to get a couple of stabs in; she screams with each thrust. Caught off guard, the mark screams in pain and strikes her face with the palm of his left hand. She falls off again, on her back. The knife bounces on the carpet and lands beyond her, near the bedroom door.

The mark now knows what is happening and starts to seethe. Tivoli sees him stand and tries to get up. Before she knows it though, he lands on top of her and puts his hands around her neck. He presses down and starts to choke her, forcing a rasping, guttural shriek from the girl. Her tongue briefly sticks out and her eyes start to bulge. Quickly, she digs her nails into the man's hands. Her effort to scratch his hands away fails. It only causes him to press harder. A shrill, painful gasp escapes her rapidly, enclosing throat.

Her eyes close as her strength starts to ebb. She closes her eyes and desperately slaps McDaniel's head with her palms. He angrily takes the blows and does not let go. Her arms, legs, and tail flail around, looking for an escape. With whatever energy she has left, she opens her eyes and raises her struggling hands to his neck, trying to choke him back. He reacts by raising his head; her hands drop while his hands stay pressed against her throat. Her long, thrashing tail manages to find its way in front of his face. It slaps him a couple of times in a sad attempt to get him off of her.

Precious seconds pass. Whether or not she is still totally conscious at this point is hard to tell. Her gasps are getting softer and quieter. Her hands are slowly losing their grip on her attacker. The one part of her that still seems to have life is her tail, which has draped itself over McDaniels arms. "You're not worth any amount of money now," he says. He is clearly winning this fight. "But you're still good for something. I'll just fuck your corpse."

Her eyes are half closed now. Her hands paw at his face to no avail. She grunts as she weakly grabs his hair. Then her tail stops thrashing around and starts to move up, first to his shoulders, then his face. Desperately losing life, the tail wraps itself around his eyes. This causes him to remove his left hand from her neck and he swats the tail away. Tivoli now has a small chance. She quickly brings her tail up again and wraps it around the assailant's neck. She grips it as tightly as she can, and now they are choking one another.

The mark grabs the coiling tail with his left hand, trying to release the grip, but his right hand is no longer firm around Tivoli's neck. She can now move her head and quickly tries to move away from him. When she looks to her right, she sees her knife. It is very difficult for her to move toward it with her back flat on the floor, but she tries to reach it with her right arm. Her tail starts to irritate McDaniels and he takes his right hand off of her neck to pry it away.

Free from his clutches, the ocelot grabs the knife and spikes it into the mark's face. It pierces his left cheek, right below his eye. He wails and falls on his back, letting go of the coughing girl. With her newly won freedom, Tivoli takes action. Screaming from the top of her lungs, she lunges at him and stabs him over and over again. Her knife continually finds his chest and abdomen. There is no method to the process, only sheer, unbridled anger. The ocelot is inconsolable and uncontrollable.

Now it is McDaniels on his back. He tries to fend off the strikes and fight back at the same time. Tivoli slashes his hands and arms. She straddles him and tries to plunge into his chest once again. He reaches at her and grabs her neck in response. This time though, she has the upper hand. Once she feels herself getting choked, she rams the blade through his trachea. She leaves it in there for a couple of seconds, seeing that the blow causes the desired result. McDaniels gasps and tries to reach for the knife.

She removes the knife from his neck and, still screaming in fury, skewers his chest once more. She leaves it there a couple of more seconds and, getting very tired, slowly pulls it out and crawls a couple of inches away. Her screams are replaced by scared breaths and her limbs shake as she proceeds. She has been there long enough and is trying to get to the bedroom door. Suddenly, the mark grabs her ankle. She feels it, shrieks, and turns back to the victim. Her knife finds him a couple of more times. His attempts to fight her off are weaker than before. She grabs his left wrist, pins it on the floor, and stabs him again in the neck.

The ocelot watches him start to fade. She looks carefully into his half-closed eyes. Certain that he will not move any further, she slides away from him. Her body is still shaking with rage. The gravity of what she has done has not yet set in. Even though the mark is not yet dead, he is now almost completely immobilized, so the job is practically done. Tivoli looks at her knife and sighs, trying to create some sort of relief. She drops it on her lap and leans her back against the nearest wall. Then she notices the blood.

Her hands are caked in crimson. What once was a gorgeous, white blouse has now become a living, red shield. The parts of her legs that her skirt didn't cover are stained as well. She puts her right hand to her chest and tries to brush the liquid away. Her attempt at getting clean is painfully pathetic. She starts to hyperventilate again, completely aware that there is no getting it off. She hears a sound to her left and quickly turns to see her victim. He is almost completely covered in his own sap, making gagging and gurgling noises. He opens his eyes and his mouth, as if trying to talk.

"Shut up!" The ocelot's voice sounds like that of someone much younger. It was a shrill, primal scream that could pierce glass as well as eardrums. She breathes heavily and gets up on her knees. She picks the knife up, ready to do battle again. However, as the blood flows from his top half, it is clear that McDaniels is done. There will be no more fighting today.

Suddenly, the ocelot's ears perk up. She looks around her nervously as if she has just heard something. She grips the knife even tighter and holds her breath, keeping herself quiet. Seconds later, the sound emanates. She hears a couple of loud thumps along with a loud but unintelligible scream. The sounds are coming from the other side of the house. Tivoli exhales loudly and tries to stand. Her knees buckle and she falls on all fours. "No." She winces in pain. The thumping returns again. It bangs three or four times, then stops. It returns a few seconds later, then stops again. The ocelot shakes her head and tries to stand. Her shaky knees protest and she falls on all fours again. "Ouch!"

With her victim trying to move towards her, even though he is on his back, she decides to make haste. Like a wounded dog, she crawls out of the bedroom, leaving the knife behind. Once she reaches the kitchen, she decides to try standing again. With most of her strength sapped, she forces her muscles to stretch, but she eventually gets there. She moans in pain and bends to rub her left calf.

The thumping sound returns. Now it is easy to tell that the sound is someone banging on the front door. The noise startles her into limping out of the kitchen. As quickly as she can, she makes the trek through the dining room and into the living room, where she collapses just short of the door.

While Tivoli is on her belly, four loud bangs slam against the door. She weakly picks her head up and pushes herself to her knees. As she gets closer to the door, she can hear footsteps shuffling behind it. "Paraná?"

Four more bangs. "Tivoli! Are you in there?!"

That is not the jaguar's voice. The scream does not have his distinguishable accent. She looks at the door, trying to figure out whose voice that was. As if it were possible, she is more scared now than before. There are only three other people who know where she is right now, but she has no idea who is at the door. She staggers to her feet and creeps forward until her hands grab the doorknob. There is still blood on her palms; her hands slip on the brass knob. She struggles with it, shaking and whimpering loudly. She also looks behind her, just in case.

When she is finally able to turn the doorknob, she pulls the door. It does not open all the way, but the person on the other side bursts inside the room. The door flies open as if kicked in by a SWAT team, but it is only one man. The dark, tense figure of Robert Crevecoeur has entered. He looks around him and, not seeing anyone right away, shakes his head helplessly. "Tivoli!"

The ocelot is standing behind him, next to the door. She calls out to him weakly. Once he turns around, her knees give, and she slinks down to the floor with her back against the wall. One look at the overcome ocelot turns the executive's face from simply angry to absolutely horrified. She looks like she got thrown into a pool of blood. Her entire front side is almost entirely red. Her hair has streaks of red decorating it. What is even more startling is the carpeted floor. Crevecoeur looks at the red streaks left over from Tivoli's escape of the bedroom. He takes a look at the large stain left behind when she collapsed on the floor.

"Oh, God." He staggers and slips, almost falling. He looks down to see his feet standing on a blood trail that stretches all the way to the kitchen. He first follows it with his eyes, then runs to the kitchen to see how far the trail goes. He turns back around just in time to see the ocelot fall on all fours. He runs to her, stepping over the blood trail and grabs her shoulders. "Are you bleeding?"

Tivoli is shaking all over. She looks at the human's eyes and opens her mouth. Her attempt to speak is frail and she gives up quickly. She falls forward, trying to lean on him, but he pulls himself away, making her fall on the floor. He looks at her for a couple of seconds and starts to get nervous, then bends down and grabs her hands, trying to help her up without getting any of the blood on him. It is a difficult journey, but she is finally helped to her feet.

They stand in there in the surreal-looking living room. He is trying to figure out what has happened while she is just trying to return to normal. She looks at him with what looks like remorse, as if she actually failed her mission. But one look at her and he knows what has just happened. He caresses her forehead and moves some of the hair covering her face.

"I'm glad you're in one piece," he says. "Where is he? Take me to him."

Being touched by the right guy makes her feel a little more relaxed and, after a few more words of encouragement, she sadly nods and tries to lead the way. She walks slowly, favoring her affected leg. Crevecoeur notices her limping and stops her before they get through the kitchen. "Did he hurt you?"

Still breathing heavily, she shakily says, "I hurt myself."

The executive nods emphatically. He intends to help Tivoli to where McDaniels is staying, but he hesitates when he gets a good look at her blouse. It is almost completely stained and he does not want any of it on him. He takes off his shirt, exposing a black muscle shirt underneath, and gives it to the ocelot. "Here. The less evidence that shows up on me, the better."

Tivoli's hands fumble with the white shirt. It takes some effort, but she slides it on without asking why. Now that the blood has been covered for the time being, Crevecoeur hooks his right arm around her and helps her walk. She tells him where to go and in no time, she leads him the fallen mark.

Once inside the bedroom, Crevecoeur leaves Tivoli by the door and carefully trudges forward, trying to avoid stepping on the blood stains on the carpet. The feat is not easy and is only half successful. He stands over the mark and covers his mouth in surprise at the sight. The mark is lying on the floor next to the bed. He has two deep gashes in his right arm and one less conspicuous one on his left hand. His right thigh has a knife wound on it. The rest of him above the waist is littered with stab wounds. Blood flows seemingly from everywhere. There are three different gashes on his neck, one of which has probably finished him off.

Crevecoeur crouches by his feet, looking the dying man over from head to toe. He notices a little glint to his right. It is Tivoli's knife, lying in plain sight and half-covered in blood. He turns back to look at her, maybe to ask her a question. She is still by the door, covering her face with her hands and refusing to look at her handiwork.

A gasping sound from the victim causes their heads to turn. Crevecoeur stands quickly and backs himself toward the ocelot. "He's still alive."

"I know! I...." She shakes her head and covers her ears; McDaniels is still making noise. "I tried and tried, but...." Now she backs herself through the door. Crevecoeur helps her leave the bedroom and they slowly make their way back to the living room. She is whimpering like a toddler.

"Relax, okay? The hard part's over. You shouldn't have had to bear this burden. But it's over now."

"Where's Paraná?"

"I don't know. I--"

The telephone rings, interrupting the conversation for a moment. Crevecoeur looks more startled than Tivoli does; she has just spent most of the day cowering at everything, so a telephone ringing is not going to faze her. "Where is he?"

"I had my guys look for him. I didn't want all three of us to barge in here after Mr. McDaniels. It's Saturday evening and the neighbors are still all over the place. I decided to come here by myself and had my contacts look for him. They haven't called since. Don't worry, though. They'll...." Crevecoeur stops talking because the McDaniels' voice can be heard somewhere in the living room. "Where's that coming from?"

Tivoli points to the kitchen table behind them. The telephone's answering system has kicked in. McDaniels' voice is telling the caller to leave a message. After the phone beeps, the executive puts a hand on her back and leads her toward the front door. "We'll find him. In the meantime, let's get you home."

"No!" She turns to face him. "I don't have a home. I mean...I don't live by myself. My roommate doesn't know I do this."

Crevecoeur closes his eyes in disgust. "Well, that's inconvenient. So, where do we--"

"Who's that?!" Tivoli turns around and looks toward the kitchen.

"What's the matter?"

Tivoli strolls forward. Her sharp ears have caught something. There is a familiar voice coming from the telephone. She limps closer to the kitchen to listen to the message coming in. Crevecoeur passes her and actually enters the kitchen.

The voice is in the middle of an angry speech. "...I've been calling your cell phone every few minutes. I've now been waiting for thirty minutes longer than I was told I would wait. I'm not waiting any longer. I have called a cab and I will meet you at your house. I'm bringing a couple of my associates with me. We will be there in about fifteen minutes. If you can hear me, get the girl ready for us. We should all leave together for the train station around midnight. We also must make sure she gets her shots...."

Crevecoeur does not wait for the end of the message. "All right. Let's get the fuck out of here." His voice has a more urgent tone to it. He runs to the ocelot and helps her across the living room.

"Who was that?"

"Those are the guys who want to buy you. They're headed this way."

She hooks her blood-soaked left arm around her boss' waist and they limp together out of the house. The blood on her blouse is starting to seep through the shirt that now covers her, but she gratefully leans into him. She feels protected now and has stopped whimpering, although she is still breathing heavily and her hands are apparently hurting. She continues to flex them as she is led out the door. The last hour has been overwhelmingly tough on her. She looks like she is still trying to take it all in.

Crevecoeur's minivan is on the driveway, right behind the mark's fancy car. There is nobody around, but the human tries his best to hide the ocelot as he leads her to the passenger seat. "Keep that shirt on. This is the family car. Try not to get any blood on the seat." Crevecoeur reaches in and buckles the seat belt for her. He looks around suspiciously before entering the van. Once inside, he closes the door and puts his hands on the steering wheel. The keys are still in the ignition, but he does not start the engine. Instead, he sits there calmly and closes his eyes. He mumbles to himself as if he is trying to remember something. The ocelot, meanwhile, leans forward until her head touches the glove compartment. She covers her face in her hands and takes deep breaths. She is scared and in some pain.

Even though the fur traders are on their way, Crevecoeur is taking his time. After a minute of talking to himself, he turns to Tivoli. She has been given time to unwind, but is panting heavily for some reason.

"Did he get you?" he asks.

She does not hear the question; her head is still on the glove box. It sounds like she heard something though, because she raises her head after a few seconds. She is still panicky. A quick "What?" comes out of her quivering mouth.

"I said...did he get you? Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I was..." She starts to pant and turns away, causing Crevecoeur to close in and put a hand on shoulder. He does not look to be in the consoling mood. He is all business and he proves it by shaking her into looking at him again. She opens her mouth and only a short squeal comes out.

"Hurry, woman."

"He choked me! He put his arms around my neck and--"

"Anything missing?"

"I don't know!"

"Let me see." He leans in closer, putting both hands on either side of her face. Tivoli whimpers again. This is not what she needs at this time. Crevecoeur inspects her neck and shoulders. He nods as if he notices something and quickly lets her go. "I'll be right back."

"No! Please don't leave me!"

"You got a couple of scratches. I gotta check under his fingernails. You stay here." He leaves his seat and slams the door before running in to the house. He takes a couple of steps inside before he realizes that he just stepped in fresh blood. Then he looks at the carpet and sighs in exasperation. His shoes have left clear footprints that would at least indicate how big he is. With his feet, he tries to smear the prints off. He makes more of a mess, but he successfully covers the bloody prints with more blood. Stepping gingerly, he eventually enters the bedroom. There he sees his damaged game.

Arlo McDaniels has tried to move from his spot below his bed and ended up losing more blood. His neck and upper chest are covered in it. The thick liquid covers the gashes in his neck and most of the wounds on his trunk. The wounds are all over the place, with no pattern or plan to them. His suffering gasps and chokes start to unnerve the executive and bends down to check the fingernails on the victim's left hand. Just then, he spots Tivoli's knife from the corner of his eye. Its holster is a couple of feet ahead of it, partially under the bed. He picks the knife up and stares at it for a time. McDaniels' choking protests get louder; he can see the weapon.

Crevecoeur looks at the mark with half-closed eyes. There are wicked thoughts floating around in his head, like the knife is telling him something. After heaving a deep sigh, he returns to doing what he was originally there for. After again looking under the nails of McDaniels' left hand, he looks at the victim. They stare at each other, the executive with deep anger and the victim with weak pleading. Suddenly, Crevecoeur shrugs and boldly steps forward. He kneels in front of the mark and grabs his hair, holding his head up off the floor. With his right hand, he holds the knife in a desired position. "Rest in hell," he says. He puts the knife against the mark's throat....

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

["Dinner!" and I'm suddenly awake. My head springs off the bed and I look around. For a few, frightening seconds, I am blind. But what I'm seeing isn't darkness. It's redness. There is red all around me. I blink furiously and it's still there. I cover my eyes with my hands and it's still there. I rub my eyes for a few seconds, then open them wide. The red starts to disappear and I suddenly see this tall man with a black apron bringing in a covered tray. It's dinner time, he says.]

[The red slowly goes away. What I just saw was an afterimage of the dream that was forcefully interrupted. It sometimes happens when I wake up while in the middle of having one. It's never a good thing. In fact, it's enough to give you a heart attack if you're not prepared for it. I start to eat, wondering what the red was. My best guess is that Crevecoeur has just killed McDaniels. Makes sense.]

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"How many times? How many times was he stabbed?!" Crevecoeur grips his cellular phone tightly against his ear with his right hand while steering with his left. "In the stomach? Just there? How is he doing?"

The fearful and miserable ocelot looks on as the executive's face goes from angry to anxious during the phone call. She has her hands clasped on her lap and her hair falling in front of her face. The blood on her blouse has seeped through the shirt she is wearing. She looks in total disarray.

"Call me as soon as you can. Better still, don't call me until he is safely in ICU. We'll talk further." He hangs up hastily, throws his phone in the back seat, and hits the accelerator. "Paraná's hurt."

"I gathered." Tivoli's voice is still shaky, but not as jumpy as before. "Will he be all right?"

"He was stabbed several times, but he's tough. He'll make it." He pauses as he stops at an intersection. "He's too tough for his own good."

Tivoli clutches her stomach and doubles over. She resumes her panicked panting.

"He's tougher even than me. That's not something I like to freely admit, but he's one of the strongest workers there is." He looks behind him for a second before turning his eyes back to the road. "If I didn't remember to check under McDaniels' fingernails, I would have forgotten your things."

The ocelot's knife is in the back seat, lying on top of the holster. The leather holster prevents the blood on the knife from touching the seat.

"I also think I got everything. I checked the mark's fingers thoroughly and I think I got all the fur he took from you. If the police find that, you're screwed, so I had to do it. Good thing I finished quickly. McDaniels' clients were on their way so I had to...." Crevecoeur pauses and slows the car down. His eyes widen. "Fuck!" He startles the ocelot with his sudden outburst. "I touched the doorknob! My prints are on the fucking doorknob!" He heaves a couple of angry breaths and shakes his head. "Damn."

Tivoli lowers her head. She still has her hands on her stomach.

"This is a disaster. I forgot to wipe off the damned thing. I tried not to get you implicated, and instead I might be implicated. I just hope that when the buyers get there, they touch the doorknob too."

She leans against the window. "Pull over."

"What's that?"

"Pull over. I'm gonna be sick."

"We're on the highway. We just got in."

"Please," she whispers. She puts her right hand on the door handle and covers her mouth with her left. She is suddenly in a bad state, if she wasn't already.

Crevecoeur sighs heavily. It is rather inconvenient, but he knows what he has to do. Even though they are on an overpass, he deftly moves the car to the side of the road. There are not too many cars on the highway and there is nobody behind them at the moment. He parks the van far enough away to avoid oncoming drivers.

The second the van stops, Tivoli opens the door. She intends to get out of the van, but the door is hitting the guardrail and can only open halfway. She struggles to leave the car, but cannot quite fit through the space. Giving up quickly, she simply sticks her head out. It takes longer than anticipated, but when the feeling strikes, she starts to wretch. Her eyes shut tight as her mouth expels whatever she ate that afternoon.

The human turns off the ignition. He starts to talk, only to be interrupted as the apprentice vomits a second time. His demeanor earlier was matter-of-fact and a bit cold toward the ocelot. Now, his concern for her ramps up. He leaves his seat and goes around the van to console her. She breathes hard after the second salvo and looks up at Crevecoeur's worried face. She opens her mouth to speak, but shudders and bows her head again. She rests her head on the guard rail as more liquid shoots out of her mouth. Crevecoeur pats and rubs the back of her head, looking lost and helpless. This experience has him stumped.

Ten minutes later, the two are back on the road. Tivoli has her head back on the glove compartment, desperately trying to recover. Crevecoeur continues to piece together everything that went wrong. He does so aloud, but he is mostly talking to himself rather than the feline. He looks less comfortable behind the wheel.

After a long period of mumbling, he looks at her, more worried than ever. "I'm halfway home...but I can't take you home. I...." He pauses once she looks at him. Her eyes are turning red. "Bear with me a little longer, okay? I can't take you home. My kids are...." He closes his eyes and heaves a long, weary sigh. "Shit. I gotta call a sitter." He shakes his head and veers sharply. The U-turn jolts the ocelot and she clutches her stomach again. "I can't take you to your home or mine. But I still have the keys; I'll take you to the office. We'll both clean up there." He looks at her again and lowers his voice. "We'll get some rest, okay?"

Looking straight ahead, she nods softly. She opens her mouth once again to speak, but only a loud belch comes out. She covers her mouth with embarrassment.

"You gonna throw up again?"

She shakes her head and leans back in the seat.

"It's just after eight. Anyone who's been paid will be long gone now. We'll be by ourselves and--"

"Where am I going to sleep?"

He sighs and shakes his head again while she awaits an answer. "One problem at a time, please." He rubs his forehead angrily, feeling worn down by today's unfortunate events. This is the first time in a long time, if ever, that the risks of the job have manifested this strongly for any of the human bosses. They usually have any problems solved by the next day. Crevecoeur does not look like an authority figure right now. The moment is certainly a wakeup call for the ocelot, who has never looked this out of sorts before. She looks up at the roof of the van, looking as sick as she feels. Meanwhile, he shrugs with uncertainty. "I'll...figure something out."

The trip takes forever, but Rapid Recovery is soon in sight and Crevecoeur makes the turn into the parking lot. He parks across a couple of spaces, slamming the brake pedal anxiously, and exits the van. He takes a moment to stretch before he helps Tivoli out. She has trouble with the seatbelt, but once she forces it free, she jumps out. She cannot wait to go inside and get out of sight.

"My shirt's as red as your blouse is. You can take it off now." He nervously watches her remove the bloody shirt. "Give it to me. We're gonna stay here for a while, all right? I'll provide you with anything you need. Just try to relax and I'll get the door open." He reaches into the glove compartment and fishes inside until he finds a key ring. There are about ten keys on it, one of which opens the front door. "I've never been here so late."

Tivoli watches him impatiently, creeping forward until she is right behind him.

"You might as well take of your blouse too. I'll take care of that."

She gladly obeys, stripping it off quickly and carelessly. Angrily, she throws it at the van. Then, she throws Crevecoeur's shirt at the van and emits a closed-mouth scream. The newly-reddened clothing falls on the ground by the front tire. Her heavy breathing returns and she puts her face to her hands. She takes a few deep breaths and tries to console herself. When she uncovers her face, she notices the blood still on her hands. At this moment, she gets a good look at her body. Her brilliant, yellow fur has been thoroughly sullied. Some of the blood as stained her chest and abdomen. There is a noticeable streak running from left elbow down to the back of her hand. While she continues looking at herself, she trips on the steps in front of the door.

Crevecoeur now has the door open. "Sorry it's taking so long. It's too dark out here. Give me your blouse." He reaches inside to his right and turns the lobby lights on. The place is empty, clean and cool. It is a drastic change from the heat and humidity outdoors. He steps inside for a brief moment to breathe in the air-conditioned air. He chuckles as he exhales. "Come on, girl. Give me the blouse. I'm gonna try to clean it up."

He turns around, expecting the ocelot to be right behind him and ready to enter. The blouse is still laying next to the car, waiting to be picked up. She is behind him, but is sitting on the front steps. Her elbows are on her knees and her hands are covering her eyes. Her head hangs low enough that her long hair hides her head. She starts to cry. As she tries to wipe her eyes, she coats her face with the blood on her hands.

"Aw, look at this." Crevecoeur passes the feline and picks up the clothes. "Unbelievable." He looks around hopelessly. At first, it looks like he doesn't care about the grief-stricken ocelot and looks up at the heavens, wondering what to do now. However, her sobs are loud enough to cloud his thinking and he looks at her for a couple of minutes. His heart softens and he shakes his head. "It's all right."

"No, it's not!" She sobs harder and her hands start to shake.

"Please don't fight me now." He sits next to her on the steps and tosses the bloody clothes at his feet. "You've been doing that all day." He puts his arm around her, getting her to look his way. "I'm also sorry about Paraná. I tried to protect him as best I could, but...." He hesitates, looking for the right words to say. It is clear from the look on his face that he does not think much of the jaguar. "I wish he didn't choose this mark for you. I wish he...." He stops himself after Tivoli gives him an angry look. "You're right. No more placing blame. I'm sorry. Just stop crying, okay?"

"I didn't fail!"

"I know that. You got him."

"He tried to get me to have sex with him! Paraná wasn't coming! I had to--"

"Don't yell." He rubs her back and tries to calm her down. "What you went through was traumatic and I don't wish it on anybody. If it's any consolation, you did great."

Tivoli breaks down again but this time, she leans into Crevecoeur. "I didn't fail," she says. "He's dead. I killed him. I did my job...." She coughs and wipes her eyes.

"Shh. You did great."

They sit like that for a couple of minutes. She continually wipes her eyes, but has stopped crying and is now just using her boss' left shoulder as a headrest. She still looks downhearted and nervous. "So much blood."

Crevecoeur nods sadly. "There was. But still, you own a knife. Shouldn't you have expected that?"

"I've only ever showed it to people...or scared people with it. I didn't think...." Suddenly, Tivoli sits up straight and fiercely wipes her eyes. Her ears straighten and she gasps loudly.

"What's the matter?"

"I hear something." She stands and turns around. Seeing the figure behind her, she screams. Crevecoeur stands up and turns to look.

There is a shadowy figure standing at the doorway, its features being darkened by the light behind it. It is holding a firearm in its right hand. Without thinking, Crevecoeur picks up the bloody clothes and throws them at the figures head. The shadow fends off the projectile and is forced into the light as a result.

St. Croix stumbles and drops his gun, shouting, "What the hell is going on here?!" When he regains his balance, he cannot believe his eyes. "What are you guys doing here?" He sees the executive's chuckle and starts to grin, but then he sees Tivoli. "Oh my God."

"We're coming in." Crevecoeur brushes past the wolf and picks up the clothes. Tivoli slowly follows, still wiping the tears from her thoroughly stained face.

"What's happened to you?" St. Croix puts his hands on the ocelot's shoulders as he inspects her. She cracks what looks like a smile and even tries to talk, but her heart is not in it. She just shakes her head and sniffs.

"Let her go and close the door. We need to stay here for a while." Crevecoeur takes off his undershirt and now stands half-naked in front of the furries.

St. Croix shakes his head in disbelief as he makes sure the glass doors are shut. "Again, what's happened?"

"Tivoli's hunt with Paraná accidentally turned into a solo hunt. She had to...overdo things."

"Son of a bitch." He approaches her, almost stepping on the gun he dropped. "Did you kill him?"

As Tivoli nods, Crevecoeur answers, "She stabbed him over thirty times. He was still alive when I got there though."

"You finished him off?"

"I slit his throat."

The wolf chuckles mirthlessly. "Wow. Talk about trial by fire." He walks over to the ocelot and gives her a hug. She embraces him in turn, staining the back of his shirt. "I'm so sorry, ma'am. I really am."

Tivoli answers with a couple of sniffs. She looks incredibly worn down.

"She needs a shower."

"Right." St. Croix lets her go and immediately leads her to the hallway. Crevecoeur picks up the clothes on the floor and looks around for a place to put them. He eventually decides to toss them on the front desk. "Unbelievable."

The wolf is only gone for a minute. When he returns, he has a panicked look on his face. "Poor girl. You shouldn't have come here."

The human scoffs. "Well, thanks for your concern."

"What are you doing here at 8:30 p.m.? On a Saturday? Why didn't you take her to her house? Or yours?"

"She lives with someone...and I don't want my kids to see something the cat dragged in. Speaking of which, I need to make a phone call." He passes the stunned wolf.

St. Croix follows him, only to stop when he sees the clothes on the desk. "Oh...my God."

"Yeah...we need to have those washed."

"In here!?"

"Hey, don't get all riled up. That's evidence until we clean it. We'll just use the showers."

The wolf hesitates, but grabs the clothes--Crevecoeur's black undershirt and blood-soaked shirt, and Tivoli's blouse. He runs through the hall and out of sight. The executive stays behind and kicks the floor in frustration. He sees the gun St. Croix was holding earlier. It is a Beretta, the same brand Shilloh uses. He picks it up and looks it over for a few seconds. The dull metal looks brilliant in the light. He decides to hold on to it as he takes his cellular phone out of his pants pocket. He punches some numbers and sighs wearily, impatiently waiting for his call to be answered. He is just as worn out as the ocelot is. "Hello, Max? I need a favor." He sits at the front desk, looking embarrassed to be doing this. "Yes, I know what time it is, but I can't come home tonight. I need you at my house ASAP."

At this time, St. Croix sneaks back into the lobby just in time to hear the half-naked man successfully set up the sitter with a short-notice job worth fifty dollars. The wolf folds his arms, angry for some reason. He waits patiently for the phone call to end, then walks over towards the executive. "You two shouldn't have come here."

Crevecoeur leans back on the seat. "You've said that already. What's your problem?"

"There were a couple of cops here just moments ago. They were outside, in the back lot, having a cigarette break. They didn't notice me, but you guys got here not five minutes after they left."

"And where else were we supposed to go, huh?" The human waits for the wolf to answer, but feels vindicated by the silence that follows. "Don't forget," he adds, "to those cops, this building's just a building, but it is also shelter for the killers. And that's exactly what that girl needs." He swivels in the chair, suddenly relaxed. "How is she, by the way?"

St. Croix shakes his head and looks back at the hallway. "I went to the locker room and put the clothes on the bench. I could hear her crying. I can just imagine her...balled up in the fetal position, wondering what her life has become." He bows his head. "I used to feel the same way when I first started."

"You think she needs to talk to Miranda?"

"That and a few days off...and a hefty evaluation from Ted. After he hears about what happened, he's gonna want to look her over. If he doesn't like what he sees, she's most likely done." He pauses to watch Crevecoeur nod in agreement. "She's gonna need a change of clothes."

"We didn't plan on that. Matter of fact, there's plenty we didn't plan on. Then again, Paraná was supposed to do the job in the first place."

"So, she's gonna stay here with nothing but a sports bra on?"

Crevecoeur stands. "Hold on a second." He runs past the wolf and into the hall. St. Croix follows him and they head into room 3, the "psych" room. They look around for a bit before the executive finds what he is looking for. Behind Miranda's desk is a rack of clothes--five formal dresses, a couple of blue jeans, two women's business suits, and a red, velvet robe. Crevecoeur looks through the clothes and takes one of the dresses from its hanger. "Miranda always leaves the office with different clothes from the one she wears in the morning. I had a feeling I'd find some clothes here."

"Be careful with those." St. Croix closes in on him. "A couple of those belong to the chief. She changes in here whenever she wants to go somewhere on short notice."

The human scoffs and laughs. "Like where?"

The wolf is quite serious. "You know she and Governor Cartwright are friends, right? She supports his reelection campaign. To that end, she attends more than a few Republican fundraisers and other issues-oriented lunches. The Governor usually mentions this place whenever he wants to tout his small-business credentials."

"Typical." Crevecoeur removes the robe from its hanger. "What about this?"

"Um...that's Miranda's. She's very tall. Tivoli's very...not tall."

"This'll have to do." He stares at the robe as he starts to leave the room.

"She's not gonna like you taking her robe."

"Tell her to sue me. Why does she need this anyway? Why leave it here?"

St. Croix turns the light off. "She wears it after she showers."

"She wears this here? In this office?"

"Whenever a session runs real long and she wants to shower, she does so, then puts it on and continues the session. She knows how important our jobs are to us, so she makes some sacrifices. Look sir, that thing looks like it could push Tivoli over if she tries it on. Why don't I just go out now and buy her something more her size?"

"If you don't mind my asking, what are you doing here on a Saturday? You trying to earn some overtime?"

The wolf sighs sadly as he leaves the room ahead of his boss. "I've been evicted. From my apartment. I've spent too much time hunting to pay attention to paying the rent. I also have a very impatient landlord. Anyway, I've been sleeping here for the past couple of nights. I bought myself a cot just yesterday. It's in the cafeteria. I was about to turn in when you guys came over."

"You could just bribe him with all the money you've made from your hunts."

"Nah. I've been planning to move out anyway. Matter of fact, most of us are making enough to get better places."

The men creep toward the locker room. "I don't hear the water running," Crevecoeur says.

"Tivoli, we're coming in." The wolf takes the robe from the human and quickly enters. They see the ocelot slowly emerge from around the left corner. She has a white towel wrapped around her body, so she looks quite comfortable, even though she is still walking with a limp. Crevecoeur grabs the pile of clothes on the bench, including Tivoli's skirt and underwear, and heads for the showers.

She looks at the robe suspiciously. "That's too big," she sniffs.

"That's all there is." The wolf gives it to her. "Just try it on for now. What size are you?"

"Eighteen. Why?"

"I'm going to buy you some clothes. Anything in particular you like?"

She wipes her eyes and shows a slight grin. "Anything expensive."

St. Croix laughs loudly. It is loud enough that it sounds half-fake, but it makes the ocelot smile, and she gladly takes the robe. "Where can I try this on?"

Crevecoeur reappears and passes the two. "You can try it on in here. We'll wait for you in the cafeteria."

"You can sleep on my cot. It's quite comfortable." He gives the wet ocelot another hug, then he makes his way to the lockers. He opens his locker and removes a small envelope. Inside it is a small stack of one hundred dollar bills. He takes out a couple and says, "I'll get you something nice." He closes the locker and leaves her alone to change into the robe.

On their way to the cafeteria, the executive talks to his children on his cell phone, telling them he will not be coming home that night. They must have protested, because he raises his voice a couple of times. It is a disagreeable discussion that lasts only a couple of minutes. He does not even say good-bye to them. When he hangs up, the phone rings again. This time, it is one of his Doberman contacts. Crevecoeur looks very tense while talking to him, so much so that St. Croix pays attention. When he hangs up this time, he looks more worn out than at any point all day.

"What's the matter?" the wolf asks.

"Paraná's at St. John's. He's in surgery. I need to sit down." He wearily walks into the cafeteria and finds the nearest chair. As he does, he notices the gray, adjustable bed with a white pillow on top. "That yours?"

"That's my cot." The wolf looks at the executive in shock and sits next to him. "What's happened to Paraná?"

"He got stabbed multiple times. Mr. McDaniels did that. I guess he went back to his house to have his way with Tivoli before completing the sale."

St. Croix looks on confusedly. "What sale?"

"Don't you remember the meetings? He's a trafficker; he was gonna sell her."

"My friend's gonna be all right, won't he?"

"Paraná will be just fine."

"That's good." The wolf sighs with relief and shows a bit of a smile. "You know what? You got him. A couple of years ago, you told me that McDaniels was one of your cases. You were working on catching him before you were removed from the force. Now you've done something that the police haven't been able to do. You got the guy. Once the police find his body in a couple of days, the case is closed."

"Yeah. I'm not happy about it though."

"You're not? How come? Is it because of Paraná?"

"It's more than that. We got it all wrong...from the beginning. He wasn't a child trafficker. That's only what we thought. He was more than that. He sold furs. By that, I mean he sold--"

"Right. He sold kids into the sex trade. That was the reason for the high bounty on his head."

"No! He sold the kids for their fur, not for sex. The guys he was selling to were--"

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Absolutely not! McDaniels would sell them, then...I guess the buyers would skin 'em." He looks at St. Croix's expression and scoffs. "Don't look so surprised. Black market fur is big business."

"Yeah, from feral animals, not anthropomorphic individuals."

"Feral animals, especially the exotic ones, are protected. Anthros aren't."

"But why children and not the adults?"

"Because kids don't fight back."

St. Croix shakes his head. "I don't get it. Wouldn't the kids' parents know?"

"Sometimes the cubs are kidnapped. Other times, the parents give up their kids willingly for the money. And it's a lot of money."

"Okay, but wouldn't those parents find out eventually that their kids are being sold for their skins?"

Crevecoeur thinks for a couple of seconds. "Not if they were killed beforehand...which would explain what McDaniels tried to do to Paraná. He was playing Tivoli's uncle."

"Wow. Are you gonna tell her that she was almost a fur coat?"

The human shakes his head. "I don't have the guts."

Without warning, the ocelot comes into view. "Tell me what?"

Both men stand almost immediately. While Crevecoeur nervously turns away, St. Croix helps her inside. The robe she is wearing covers her feet and barely drags on the floor. If it were shorter, it would look really good on her.

St. Croix smiles at her. "You look good. Here's the cot. You just rest here, and...I'll buy you some sensible clothes. If there's anything else you want--"

"Coffee."

Crevecoeur says nothing, but heads for the coffeepot. St. Croix nods and leaves through the back door. He does not even bother to change out of his T-shirt and sweatpants. Tivoli sits down on the cot and takes off her shoes. She runs her hands through her hair and inspects herself. There is no blood on her arms or legs anymore. She is as clean as she could possibly be. However, her sour mood remains. Her lips quiver as she lies down and puts her head on the pillow. She is quietly sobbing as Crevecoeur returns to her. "The coffee is being brewed, so it will be ready in a few minutes. The clothes are in the shower, but I don't feel like cleaning them. I think I'll just pitch 'em."

Tivoli sniffs pathetically and looks at her boss. He looks back at her with sunken eyes and a pensive mouth. He tries to say something else, maybe to tell her who McDaniels really was, or maybe to tell her what has become of Paraná. Nothing comes out for a while, and after a minute, he just shakes his head. "I've failed you," he says.

Tears roll down the ocelot's face. She tried to keep from crying again, but it didn't work. "Stop looking at me." She turns away from him.

"I'm sorry."