FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Venom: Beautiful Killers. Part 33.

"...you fuck like a pro."

From a distance, Ravi calls out, "Okay, everything is ready! You don't mind making love on a bed of money, do you?" As he laughs, Shiloh follows the voice. He quickly passes the living room furniture and stops by an open doorway. He waits next to the opening and patiently listens for more noise. Just a few seconds later, Ravi comes through. He is wearing a black undershirt and black boxer briefs. He is also wearing a smile that gives away is lustful intentions. He arrives expecting a call girl, but sees the white wolf instead. His smile is replaced with shock. He points at her and starts to talk when he senses Shiloh's presence. As soon as he turns to the timber wolf, he is staring at the business end of his Berretta. Ravi swallows, looks at the wolf, raises his hands, and smiles. "Déjà vu."

Shiloh says nothing in response. Ravi's obnoxious smile only makes him more determined to shoot him.

"I'm unarmed. See?" Ravi raises his eyebrows a few times. He then laughs while he watches the angry wolf lower the firearm.

Winter is breathing heavily as she tries to keep Gonal under him. She shouts, "This one's not armed either."

Ravi slides a couple of steps to his right to see the white wolf. "Hello again." He turns back to Shiloh. "It's nice to see you two, but why didn't just tell us you were at the door. We would have gladly let you...." He stops talking and turns back to Winter. Now he sees his brother on the floor, face down with his hands behind his head, just inches away from the gun she has. His shock at seeing his brother in trouble seemingly comes out of nowhere. He takes a couple of angry breaths and tries to step forward. Shiloh raises his gun and points it in his face. "Hey! Put that down!" He tries to look through the timber wolf to see the white wolf. "Release my brother now!"

"Don't yell at her," Shiloh says, cocking the piece. "She doesn't like that."

"Why is he on the floor?!"

"Why did he have my tail in his mouth?!" Winter presses her Beretta against Gonal's interlocked fingers. He yells in response.

Ravi answers back in his native tongue before shouting, "You're hurting him! Let him go!" He looks at his adversary with pleading eyes. "Tell her to let him go!"

Shiloh shrugs. "Mmm...I don't know. She's still pretty upset. I don't think she'll do it. Hold on a minute." Keeping his eyes on Ravi, he takes a step back and shouts, "What do you think, babe? You wanna let him up?"

Winter never takes her eyes off her prone target. "First, why did he have my tail in his mouth?!"

Shiloh chuckles at Ravi. "Yeah, that's not happening."

While everyone yells at one another, Gonal lies there, tense and scared. He knows that he and his brother have guns against their heads, but not much else. His lack of English knowledge has him at a major disadvantage. Ravi is too busy defending himself to tell him what is going on. After a couple of minutes, he begins caterwauling loudly. Strands of saliva flee from his mouth as he yells sentences unintelligible to everyone but his brother.

Shiloh shakes his head as he listens to the screaming. He ignores Ravi's demands to release Gonal and says, "That shit better be Hindu for 'I'm sorry.' He owes my girl an apology."

Ravi hangs his head. "That's Hindi, dumbass, not Hindu. Hindi is the language. Hindu is the people."

"Whatever." He scoffs and tightens his grip on the gun.

The tiger puts his hands back over his head. "Okay big man, what do you want?"

"Well, first of all--"

"First of all, tell your brother to shut up!" Winter has to yell her loudest to be heard over Gonal's efforts.

Ravi takes a couple of steps past the timber wolf and looks at his brother affectionately. He calmly gets Gonal to calm down with a few soothing words. It takes a couple of minutes; Winter's foot pressed against his back complicates things. However, Gonal does eventually stop yelling and just lies in place.

"Thank you." Shiloh sniffs and lowers the gun. "I just wanted to make sure you two weren't armed."

"We're preparing to meet an escort. Why in hell would we be armed?"

"Noted. We're here to get information. Matthew Ambrose lived here long enough to leave clues to his whereabouts."

"Yes, we know. We were there when Simon dressed your girlfriend down after she admitted that she had stopped looking for him."

"She never stopped."

"Right. She just forgot." Keeping his hands up, Ravi looks at Winter, who still has a tight grip on Gonal. "Listen, don't worry about it. We all forget our marks sometimes. My brother and I have forgotten ours once or twice before." He looks back at Shiloh. "And it was wrong of Simon to talk to her like that in front of everybody during the meeting. We criticize each other, sure, but always in private. Hoeness and a couple of others were quietly laughing at Winter afterwards. She doesn't deserve it. Even my brother agrees...when he's not begging for his life."

Showing a little remorse, Shiloh holsters his gun in his trousers and turns around. "Come on babe, let him up."

Winter raises her foot and Gonal springs up on his feet. He angrily gives her a two-handed shove, hoping to push her down. She is surprised, but she hardly budges. As Gonal sits down on the nearest couch, Ravi runs up to him and dotingly scans him for injuries. Winter passes the tigers and rests her head on Shiloh's chest.

"You all right, babe?"

"No," she whispers.

"No?" he chuckles.

"That reaction I made...was meant for you. You know what I mean?" She watches him shake his head and angrily punches his chest. "No one else is supposed to do that to me and get that reaction. Only you."

"Are you trying to tell me that you found that pleasurable? Him licking your tail?"

Her anger is turning into slight embarrassment. "He wasn't licking it. He was...swallowing it whole."

"And you got off on that? Damn, I gotta try that."

She sighs with frustration. "Where's the bathroom? I need to get clean."

Shiloh points the way; the room is just behind her, through the kitchen. As she huffs out of sight, Ravi angrily steps in front of the timber wolf. "What you both did was unnecessary. Gonal has never been so badly mistreated in all his life."

"Is the money in there?" Shiloh points to the room behind him.

"Yeah. So?"

He nods and steps into the bedroom with Ravi right at his heels. A few steps later, they are looking at the king-sized bed. The strewn piles of one-hundred dollar bills form a sort of green mattress. Shiloh whistles; he is clearly impressed. "I've only ever seen this in movies. It never looked this glamorous."

Ravi nods. "That was the idea. We wanted to make it look like a movie, a whole bunch of movies I could name."

"Remarkable. So, this is where Mr. Ambrose slept."

"Yeah."

"Could you tell us where he'd keep his personal belongings?"

Ravi smirks. "Oh, I'm sorry. Do you need help? You won't get any from me, I'm afraid."

Shiloh smirks in return. "And why not?"

"Don't you know? Matthew Ambrose is still wanted by the FBI for embezzlement, wire fraud, and a host of other things. Me and Gonal are after him as well, so I can't very well help you get our mark, can I?"

"Don't do that. He's Winter's mark, not yours."

"The reward is a hundred thousand alive. It's much more than your girlfriend could ever make if she kills him. So she should be helping us. If she helps us catch him, we could split the money."

"The client doesn't want him incarcerated; he wants him dead. That takes precedence."

"Well, that client must be a very poor individual indeed. The FBI, on the other hand, is rich and willing to part with--"

"Look at the damn bed!" Shiloh points at the money angrily. "You've got more than enough on there to retire! You've got even more under the mattress."

"Well, now you know how I feel. You take our marks without going to the morning meetings and without trading with anyone. Worst of all, our bosses are helping you do it. You have an unfair advantage over the rest of us. There's no way I'd help you make it even more insurmountable."

"So that's the way it's gonna be, huh?"

Ravi scoffs. "By the way, congratulations on the five figures you got for Pamela Daltrey, another mark you've stolen from us. You took it well before the meeting and most of those who attended didn't know she was available. A lot of us wait months for a mark worth five figures." He shakes his head at Shiloh's angry glare and bravely pats his back. "Don't worry, big man. It was a good kill. In fact, I heard you got two marks that day. That's a big payday. Congratulations once again." The tiger looks at the floor and chuckles. "Of course, you still have to worry about the clue the police say they've found at the scene. Don't you know you're supposed to groom yourself before a hunt?"

Before Shiloh can answer, he and Ravi are both bumped from behind by Winter, who forces her way between them. She looks at the money and puts her hands on her hips, heaving angry breaths through her mouth. "Why are you two just standing around? Aren't we looking for clues?"

Ravi and Shiloh stare at the white wolf's backside. Her tail is sopping wet. Shiloh raises his head to inquire about it, but only stutters and sighs. Ravi, on the other hand, laughs and says, "Damn, you didn't have to go overboard with the grooming. You could just brush it with--"

Winter responds by flicking her tail at the smug tiger, spraying him with excess water. She still has his back to him. (The fact that she accurately targeted his face without looking is really impressive.) "It still has the stench of your brother on it," she says. "I can't get it off."

Shiloh goes to her and puts his hands on her shoulders, calming her down. He turns to Ravi and asks, "Yeah, what with the tail thing? Why'd your brother do that?"

"Gonal licks the woman's tail during sex. It's part of a technique we learned from our father a long time ago." The wolves turn to him with disapproving faces. Ravi folds his arms and shrugs. "Well...it's hard to frig the woman with her own tail unless you taper it to a point. That's what the licking does. Besides, most women find it very arousing." He winks at Winter.

"You're disgusting!" she shouts back.

"Right! Like your sex acts are moral and divine! Do you say Hail Marys when you're top-down and bottom-up?"

Shiloh growls. "Never mind!"

Despite having two angry, tooth-bearing wolves staring at him, Ravi just laughs and smugly wipes his face. "Whatever. I'm going to check on my brother. For the record, we don't know where Mr. Ambrose is either, but even if we did, we would not help anybody who would take our FBI reward away from us. If you agreed to help us, we'd be grateful and split the money four ways. But since you won't, then you two are on your own."

"Fine! Just fine. We'll try to find him. You and your brother just stay out of the way."

"Fine yourself! Just remember, we're entertaining a guest in about five minutes, by which time you and your girlfriend have to go. Well...that is unless you two want to join us. Gonal can do much more than lick tails."

Winter shakes her head. "I repeat, you're disgusting."

"Pot kettle black, I'm sure." Ravi leaves the room, wiping excess water off his wifebeater. It ends the argument for the time being. The bedroom is eerily quiet, with the exception of Gonal ranting in his native tongue.

Winter shakes her head and heads for the closet on the side of the room farthest from the door. She looks over the clothes inside. The closet is mostly empty, but of the clothes that are there, more than half belong to the tigers. There are three shirts and two pairs of trousers that used to belong to Winter's mark. She looks through the pockets of each article of clothing. After a couple of minutes, she returns to Shiloh empty-handed. "Well, that sucked," she says. "Most of the closet has been cleaned out of Ambrose's stuff. The tigers have taken it over, like they're using this place as a base of operations." She looks at her boyfriend lovingly and kisses his right cheek. He hardly responds; rather, he stares at the bed in the middle of the room. He shows no discernible emotion as he looks at the bills that decorate the bed sheets. It does not look like he wants to take anything, but he hardly recognizes his mate trying to pry him away.

"Hey, buddy, did you hear what I said?"

"Hmm?" Shiloh shakes his head. "Sorry, you say something?"

"Oh, come on. Stop looking at that. It's not right. That money's not earned."

"That's a lot of it though. I make enough, but I've never seen all that much in one place before."

"It's ill-gotten gains. It's taxpayer money."

"Well, technically, the money we get is also taxpayer money."

"Shiloh!"

"Yeah, all right." He steps away from the bed and leaves the room. "There are two bedrooms here, right?"

"Yes. The other one's next to this one."

"There's gotta be something in the drawers--store receipts, bank statements, plane tickets...I don't know...something we could use."

"I don't think this guy's seen a bank in his life."

"Stay in this room. I'll check the other bedroom."

The tigers watch on as the wolves separate. Gonal whispers in Ravi's ear, still angry at his earlier treatment. Ravi nods intently but says nothing. Winter looks at them for a couple of seconds; they look like they are planning something. She is curious but continues with her task. There is a small, red armoire to the left of the bed's headboard. It has four fancy-looking drawers, two of which are slightly open. She peers at the doors for a few seconds before slowly opening them.

The top drawers contain nothing of significance, just a couple of books. The Bible has a folded piece of paper in it; it turned out to contain a shopping list, nothing more. She opens the bottom drawers and finds more useless items; a personal grooming kit with an electric shaver, a small bottle of cologne, and an unopened box of tissues. She stares at it for a few seconds, hoping the items would morph into something salvageable. Suddenly, she hears a "Got it!" from the next room and leaves the money room without hesitation.

When she runs to Shiloh, he is standing in front of a much larger dresser. The top drawer is open and Shiloh is holding a couple of pieces of paper. The way he stares at them denotes a breakthrough in their search. Winter sidles up to him, surprising him out of his trance.

"I like that look," she says.

"Come on." Shiloh hurries out of the bedroom with his confused girlfriend following. His muzzle is closed tightly with determination as he stomps his way to the living room. There, Ravi and Gonal are sitting together in commiseration. Their backs are to the rooms being searched by the wolves. They both look sad and resigned to an unforeseen fate. For a moment, it looks like they have been taken prisoner. Shiloh proudly stands in front of them and shows them the pieces of paper in his closed hand.

Ravi nods slowly, as if he expected to see what was just shown to him. "Mm-hmm. Plane tickets."

"To Rio. He was ready to travel when you guys got to him."

"So Mr. Ambrose wanted to take a little vacation to South America."

"Is there any chance he could try again with the same airline?"

"It doesn't matter. Those tickets won't help either of us. He's not coming back here for them. And since he now knows the police are after him, he won't be seen near an airport anytime soon. You can put those away."

Winter strokes the back of her lover's neck. "Did you find anything else?"

"Shh." Shiloh places the tickets in his shirt pocket. "Well, sorry to have been a bother, but I saw what I came to see. Let's go, dear." He puts an arm around her and urges her forward.

"So, you're satisfied, yes?" Ravi stands and walks boldly towards the wolves. "A little quiet terrorism and you're off, yes?"

"I'm not sorry about the guns. We had them to protect ourselves. We didn't know if you'd be armed."

"Why not just ask?"

"Because that's not what a good hunter does. When we last saw each other, you said you hope I choke. A good hunter remembers stuff like that and takes precautions."

Ravi scoffs again, clearly loving this conversation. "I think you and your girlfriend leaving your mark's house empty-handed disqualifies you both as being 'good' hunters." He laughs at her stone face and puts his hands behind his back. "Don't worry about it though. Gonal and I pretty much cleaned the place out. We tried to follow the clues Ambrose left behind, but he has pretty much disappeared for the moment. We just can't find him. It doesn't mean that we're giving up though. We're up for the challenge...and my offer still stands. We don't have to fight one another. Help us turn him in to the feds and we'll split the reward. You two think about it now. A six-figure gift from the FBI instead of a couple of thousand from a bitter client who probably has no more money anyway, after Ambrose pretty much took all he had."

Winter steps forward; if it were not for Shiloh holding her back, she would be nose to nose with the feline. "We're not doing that. We're not ever joining with you two. Killing Ambrose is my responsibility. We'll get to him before you will!"

Ravi sighs, as if disappointed, then backs away. He looks at Shiloh and shrugs. "Well, big man? You wear the pants. You agree with the woman?"

"With every word." He heads toward the door. Winter opens it and eagerly steps out.

Gonal stands next to Ravi as they watch the wolves. "That's too bad. You know, an attitude like that has a way of turning the entire office against you."

Shiloh laughs. "Please. You guys are already against me. It's not something I haven't faced before."

"I'm sure you can handle it, but can she?" Ravi folds his arms, anticipating a strong rebuke. The wolves do turn to look at him for a second, and Winter is especially angry at him, but they head out the door without saying a word. Ravi nods. "I guess we'll find out then, won't we?"

Shiloh closes the door behind them and they roam through the hall towards the elevator. His frown deepens into a low growl and he picks up the pace.

Winter is right behind him, looking back at the door to the tigers' new apartment. "What did he mean by that, Shiloh?" she asks. She sounds a bit nervous.

"Ignore it, sweetie. It's just bluster."

"Oh, okay. That's good, because for a moment there, it sounded like a threat."

"Not with me watching your back. When we get to the office, nothing will happen. Anyway, I still have to talk to Pamila." He stops in front of the elevator and pushes the down button. "Anyone who wants to get to you will have me to deal with."

They stand shoulder to shoulder as they wait for the elevator to come up. Winter leans forward and kisses his cheek. She grabs his left hand and asks, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" She chuckles and stokes the back of his legs with her tail, trying to get the angry wolf to face her.

He does not budge, but stares angrily at the elevator. "You're clearly not thinking about your mark."

"Aw, screw him. We haven't made love in a week. Everything's been oral. That's not enough for me."

"Boy, Gonal really did a number on you, didn't he?"

"Please don't bring that up. It's bad enough it had to be him, and not you, who made me react that way."

"Fine. You want that feeling? I'll give it to you. Next time we do it, I'll be pulling your tail."

"But not too hard though. I still have to concentrate on what I'm doing." Winter laughs just as the elevator opens.

The wolves are about to step in when they meet a feline coming out. She says "Excuse me" and gingerly steps in between them. She is a cream-colored lynx whose showy, dark spots raise Shiloh's interest. She is wearing a plaid, short sleeved, cotton shirt, light blue denim shorts, and red high heeled shoes. Her face is decorated with a rhinestone piercing on her left cheek and sea green eye shadow on her eyelids. She is a little shorter than Winter is, but her tufted ears seem to make her look taller.

Winter shakes her head watching the feline walk away, then hits Shiloh's shoulder with a fist, getting him to turn away from the sight. "And just what are you looking at?" she asks angrily. He does not answer, but turns back to the lynx. He crouches to get as good a look as he can before the elevator doors close. Winter hits him again. "Quit looking at her. She's not that hot."

Shiloh clears his throat. "Excuse me a moment." He pries the closing elevator doors open and runs back into the hall. His confused mate follows angrily. Shiloh stops running to see where the lynx is going. He stops in his tracks as the feline stops in front of a door. She takes out a compact mirror to look at her face. Shiloh laughs. "There's our call girl."

"What are you doing?"

He gives Winter a mischievous look and runs to the lynx. Before she can knock on the door, he shouts, "Excuse me, miss?"

The lynx turns to him, quickly putting away her mirror. "Yes? What is it?"

He raises his eyebrows at her British accent, but laughs it off. "Excuse me, but are you planning on visiting the people in that room? A couple of tigers with really bad foreign accents?"

She tilts her head and stares at the wolf, keeping an intensely tight grip on her purse. "Yeah...so? What's it to ya?"

"Yeah, well I just came from that place and...." He chuckles softly and puts his left hand on her back. "Well, you don't want to go in there. They're sleeping. I've just come from there and let me tell you, they're really worn out. I mean, when you spend all night making love to a harem, you don't really have enough strength to do anything the following morning."

"Wait...a harem?"

"Yeah. They've had tons of girls for the last twelve hours. The last girl just left maybe a half hour ago. They're bushed."

The lynx looks at the door with a mixture of surprise and disappointment. She backs away slowly, unaware that Shiloh is quietly laughing at her reactions. "Tons of girls? How many is tons?"

"Who knows? But they are men about town, and they're eligible bachelors, so they get lots of girls to sleep with 'em. And let me tell you my friend, you don't know where these women have been. Some of them are cougars, not literally but figuratively. Many of them are older than forty. That means they've been around, if you know what I mean." He turns to Winter who is covering her mouth, trying to hide her laughter. He turns back to the lynx. "Those tigers really went overboard this time. They may have to check themselves for Hepatitis or something. I'm pretty sure they're both infected with--"

"Stop it." The lynx stares up at Shiloh's face. "Look, I travelled a long distance to get here, in the middle of nowhere, and it took me an hour to find this apartment complex. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I've broken a heel. Are you telling me that everything I've put up with has been in vain?"

Shiloh backs away from the door, hoping to draw her loud voice away from the tigers' range. "I'm truly sorry about that, but I can make it up to you."

"Oh yeah? How?!"

"Come with me." The wolf coaxes the lynx away from the door and through the hall. They walk towards the elevator where Winter's smiling face awaits them. The lynx looks at her cautiously and slows down. She looks really uncomfortable walking away from a sure windfall, but is trusting of the wolf at the same time. Shiloh coaxes his mate forward and stands between the ladies. "They told me you were coming. I assume your name is Cassie. Am I right?"

"Carrie."

"My mistake. This is Winter. She's my girlfriend and we're about to get something to eat. I was wondering if you could join us. We'll get you anything you want and we'll pay for everything."

A slight grin decorates Carrie's face. "Well, that would take care of the hunger part, but that doesn't make up for what I'm about to do. I don't want to wake the tigers up, but I'm passing up a money-making opportunity here. They promised to pay me big. What's gonna make up for that?"

Shiloh fishes into the pockets of his trousers. What he pulls out surprises the girls. "This should do it," he says. As Winter gasps with astonishment, Cassie is handed a couple of piles of one hundred dollar bills. The lynx stutters and shudders; her breathing shakes and wheezes. Her hands start to tighten around the bills. The white wolf shakes her head and puts her hands on her hips. She cannot believe it either. Shiloh nods and smiles proudly. "That's about five thousand dollars. More than what you would have earned, am I right?"

"Huh? I mean, yes! Yes it is."

"Not a bad day's work, right? You don't ruin your body and you get five grand. All in all, a profitable day. Put that in your purse and we'll get you something to eat. You like Texas omelets?"

The call girl laughs. "Today, I'll like anything you want!" She follows the wolves to the elevator. As she gets on, Winter punches Shiloh's left shoulder.

"What now?"

Winter is smiling from ear to ear. "How dare you take their money! I thought I told you it's taxpayer money."

"Sorry, honey. I'm weak and it's money. Besides, Ravi and Gonal won't miss it, though they will miss her."

Winter looks at Carrie as she counts each hundred. "Well, that's a nice thing you did for her."

The elevator starts to descend. "If you like that, you'll love this." Shiloh picks out a piece of paper from the pocket of his shirt and hands it to her. "Your mark has an accomplice. They were planning something together. Read it. I snuck it from under Ravi's nose."

While Shiloh watches the feline to make sure she is perfectly distracted, Winter reads the piece of paper. It looks like a letter; specifically, it looks like the printout of an email message. She reads the name it is addressed to. "Daniel Reardon." She shakes her head unsurely. "Shiloh, this is dated three months ago. It's old."

He leans in to whisper. "That doesn't mean he doesn't exist. We have his e-mail addy, and the message refers to a home in Riverside. That's where Mr. Reardon is. We find him, we find Ambrose. The mark's as good as gone."

"But...isn't Riverside like...fifty miles from L.A.?"

"More than that I think."

Carrie, apparently done with her counting, looks up and yells, "Hey! If you're paying, then I want to eat breakfast at a five-star place. You can afford it, right?"

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

The parking lot at St. John's is emptying and all the outdoor activities are coming to an end. As the skies get darker, the noises start to disappear little by little. The reddening sun starts to hide itself behind the clouds, shining the environment with a warm hue that the ocelot and her friend soak in. Tivoli is sitting on a bench just outside. Her eyes are closed but she is not dozing. Instead, she is doing some meditative breathing. She inhales through her nostrils, puffing out her chest, then exhales softly through her mouth, caving her stomach in. She has been doing this for the last fifteen minutes.

A few feet away from her sits the jaguar, her former handler. He has a magazine in his hands and is skimming through its pages, but periodically would turn to face the ocelot. The noise of her breathing seems to distract him, even though he is hardly reading, and he would spend more time looking at her. He does not seem angry or upset; rather, he seems to be taking an interest in her activity. He slowly rolls to her; the noise of the wheelchair makes her stop and take notice. She smiles at him and stands.

"I've been watching you for some time but now I have to ask," Paraná says. "What are you doing?"

"The hunt resumes tomorrow morning. Didn't I already tell you that?"

"Yes. Are you nervous?"

She responds with an even bigger smile and walks behind him. "I'll have Crevecoeur with me, so I don't think my nerves will be too much of an issue. Still, it doesn't hurt to prepare mentally." She resumes her rhythmic breathing.

"You have to do your third apprentice hunt alone, meaning your handler has to stay behind somewhere."

"Yeah, he's told me that. I guess I should be nervous, but after the ordeal with the senior McDaniels, I think my knife and I will be ready for this mark."

He nods. "You look ready." He turns his wheelchair to face the setting sun.

She creeps up behind him and surprises him by sliding her hands on his shoulders. She rubs them softly and gives a little purr. She is definitely glad to be there. "Well, aren't you gonna wish me luck?"

Paraná's surprised looks gives way to a stoic stare. He looks at her for a few seconds before turning to the sky. "You don't need luck. You have Crevecoeur."

"Wow, you really don't like him. Maybe I should stop saying his name."

"I just want to forget about him. In fact, I just want to forget about work."

Tivoli leans her face next to his left ear. "That's not like you. Earlier this week, you were aching to get back out there. You really should be happier than you are. You'll be home in a few days."

"I'm glad about that, I really am, but I've been thinking. Since you've had much success with your new handler, maybe I'm not good enough to do this job anymore."

"That's nonsense. You're strong and you take great care of yourself. You're not in any more pain and your appetite has returned." She increases the pressure on his shoulders. "You were really fit before you were stabbed, so your body knows how to fight something like that. Don't you think so?"

Paraná does not answer, but he definitely likes the massage, even if his face hardly shows it. He leans back on the wheelchair and lowers his head, allowing the ocelot to gently caress his neck. She giggles while she digs in.

"Whenever I got sick, dad would always tell me never to worry because I'd recover quicker than I knew it. One time, I asked him why, and he told me that it was in our genes. We recover quickly because our ancestors had to recover quickly. They had it rough out there and their bodies adjusted to the elements over time. That's why big cats are so healthy in the first place. We recover faster than even humans; their bodies have lost the ability to adapt over time since they're so busy cleaning everything." She laughs, trying to get the jaguar to laugh too. "By this time next week, you'll be back in the office taking marks."

He turns to look at her for a couple of seconds, but turns his attention back to the sun. It seems he still is not reacting to her encouraging words. He politely clears his throat and shifts in his seat.

Tivoli raises her hands and ends the neck rub. Her big smile turns into a simple smirk. Paraná does not acknowledge her presence as much as she would like. It would be frustrating if she were not so happy to be by his side. She turns her own head up to the sky to look at what he is looking at. The half covered sun causes her big smile to return. "I love the dusk," she says in her softest voice. "It takes me away to places from my childhood that I love to remember...." She steps in front of him without blocking his way. "...like when I was eight and my dad took me to Lake Placid for the first time. We'd look at the sun and he'd always tell me a story about the time his dad took him there. They'd see the sun set and marvel at the sight of the glow shining on the water. Then they'd go home with a stronger bond to each other than before. He said that I'd be there one day with my loved ones. I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever prove him right."

She turns to the jaguar and notices movement. He is rubbing the back of his neck and yawning. Once he is done, he returns his gaze to the sky. It is not evident that he even heard a word she said. He may be too far into his worries to really talk to her. Tivoli sighs and looks at him for a couple of minutes. The light is starting to fade, so she would have to lean in to get a good look. She does just that, causing the jaguar to move his head slightly away. She grins naughtily and decides to have a seat on his lap.

Paraná gasps and looks at her with widened eyes. She is rubbing up against him as she tries to get comfortable. Her encroaching back gently touches his chest. It feels good to him, but he is more worried about his view being blocked. He clears his throat loudly. "What are you doing?"

"Shh. Keep watching the sunset." She slides herself low enough so that his view will not be so impeded.

"What are you doing?!" His eyes widen in alarm.

"Quiet, or they'll hear us." She sits on legs and shifts herself so that her back is touching his chest. At first, Paraná grunts since the ocelot is heavy and is probably sitting on a healing stab wound. Then, he gasps as she leans into him and releases a closed-mouth moan. He is surely surprised, but he really starts to pay attention when she starts to grind. He grips the arms of the wheelchair and helplessly watches her slowly rock herself. He exhales shakily and tries to talk, but with the ocelot's rear rubbing his quads, he can only clear his throat awkwardly.

"Don't I feel nice?" Tivoli's smile looks the same, but seems more seductive as she continues her slow dance. She feels him getting rigid and laughs quietly. Paraná tries to move, maybe to stand, but she counters by clasping her hands on each of his. Now they are both gripping the arms of the wheelchair. "Just relax," she moans.

"What are you doing?" he whispers. "Stop doing that."

"I'm trying to get a rise out of you. Is it working?"

The jaguar releases a breath and bows his head. It is possible that he feels aroused, but the look on his face shows embarrassment. "Please stop."

"Why?"

"Because...." He strains to think of a response. He keeps his head low and continues his shallow breathing. Just because he wants her to stop does not necessarily mean he hates what is happening.

She looks up to the sky and shakes her head. "Fine, I won't do it anymore." She releases her grip on him and stands to face him. "But I gotta say I'm a bit disappointed. I'm pouring my heart out to you. I'm telling you things I never tell anyone. I'm basically trying to tell you my life story...and you're not responding. Your ears are hearing me, but your head's going 'meh.' Not good for me."

Paraná is still looking at his lap, or maybe his swollen member. "What do you want me to do?"

She leans in and puts his hands on her shoulders. "I want you to stop feeling sorry for yourself and recognize my efforts. I'm your friend and future housemate, and I'm trying to help you recover. I'm trying to tell you that you should be happy you have so much help. But I haven't even seen you crack a smile in many of my visits."

He looks up to see her face. It still has the smile on it she wore when she first got there. She is still happy even though she is giving what sounds like a lecture. "If I don't smile, is it really a bad visit?"

She leans even closer. "I actually don't care if you smile or not. You're very pretty when you do, but I'm just so happy to be here with you that it really doesn't matter." At this point, their noses are barely touching. She gently caresses his face. He has been out of action for quite some time that his normally chiseled features have become as soft as hers. She kisses his forehead and smirks. "Why is it that you shudder every time I try to kiss you?"

Paraná shrugs. "Because your nose is cold."

Tivoli chuckles at the answer, but keeps her face close to his. "I think it's something else, but you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"If you take me back to my room right now, I'll let you kiss me as many times as you like, and I will not protest once."

"Hmm...very well then." She eagerly gets herself behind the chair and pushes him inside the building. They only have to go ten feet before they reach the sliding front doors. Upon entry, they are taken aback by what they see. The lobby is completely empty. There are no crowds, no receptionists, and no noise, except the humming of the air conditioner. They are the only ones there at the moment. Tivoli laughs at the sight of no one, then laughs even louder at the sound of her echo. "That's crazy," she says.

"What is?"

"It's nice and quiet in here. I can finally hear myself think." She puts her hands back on his shoulders. "It's one of the reasons I hate hospitals. So many people, so much panic. It makes me worry needlessly."

"Yes, I can see that, but you have to get used to them. If you want to be really effective as a hunter, you have to know when to check yourself in. You have to keep yourself in the best of shape. Periodical checkups are very important."

"Oh...well I don't like hearing that. That would have been nice to know before I took this job. And how often do I have to do these checkups?"

"I do mine every six months. I also get acupuncture and regular massages." He nods and briefly shows a smile. "But I must say...I think I like your massages better."

"Really?"

"Yes. You also lapdance pretty good too."

"Oh, that wasn't a lapdance. That was just flirting. A lapdance is inappropriate in your condition." She bends to kiss his left cheek. "But when you're at a hundred percent, if you want a real one, just let me know."

Paraná may not look happy, but he looks more hopeful. He stops gripping the wheelchair and lets his arms rest on his lap. Tivoli pushes him to the elevator that will take them back up to his room. The pace is slow since the ocelot is slowing letting the empty environment sink in. As they wait in front of the elevator doors, she starts to rub his shoulders again. "Can I ask you a hypothetical?"

"What is it?"

"Please don't judge, okay? I need advice that I can't ask Crevecoeur. He wouldn't want me asking you something only a current handler should answer, but I need help from all angles. I need a fellow fur's advice."

"Go ahead. I'm listening."

"The hunt's tomorrow and Crevecoeur tells me that the client wants the hit done that night, before the mark has a chance to skip town. He didn't want to show me his picture though."

"Why not?"

"Because the mark is Keith McDaniels." She looks down at him to gauge his reaction before saying, "It's Arlo's son."

Before Paraná can respond, the elevator doors open. She pushes him inside and they head for the sixth floor. He nods without answering.

"I think Crevecoeur doesn't want to psyche me out. I mean, if that's not the reason, then why won't he show me the picture? He also hasn't given me a cover story, so I don't know how to get close to him."

"So what's the hypothetical?"

"If you were my handler, what would you do? You'd show me the picture, right?"

"Well, of course. You need a picture to go with your preparation. I don't know why he'd hide it from you. Maybe he thinks you're a weakling and can't really handle the job."

"I don't think that's true."

"Then again, maybe he is hesitant to really tell you who the mark is, judging by what you say happened between you and the kid's father."

"That's no reason for him to be worried. I already did the evaluation with Ted and he agrees that I'm fine, so why can't I be trusted with the information? You don't doubt me too, do you?"

"Well, no, but I wasn't there when it happened and--"

"It happened exactly as I told you! He tried to rape me, then tried to kill me when he found out I wasn't a prepubescent little girl. I got him and I'm ready for his son. Nobody has the right to any misgivings! I can do this!"

"Oh, I'm sorry." Paraná smirks. "Did I mention I was almost stabbed to death?"

Tivoli sighs and pouts. She shakes her head apologetically and gently stokes his left ear with the back of her right hand. "Please, let's not argue about this." The elevator doors open and she pushes him through. The nurses' station is just around the corner. Since they are no longer in private, the ocelot lowers her voice. "Okay, once again, pretend you're my handler. What should I wear?"

"Well...how old is the mark?"

"Crevecoeur says he's a teenager, so...I haven't been close to one in a long time. I don't really know what young men like. I don't know how to get close to him, except to dress attractively."

"Ah, so your mark is a child. Interesting."

"No, he isn't. Why do you say that?"

"I would say that Mr. Crevecoeur is giving you an 'easy' one, something you can handle, someone who cannot possibly fight back. He might be overcompensating a bit."

Tivoli furrows her brow in thought. Her hopeful look turns into suspicion. "You think that's what it is?"

"He obviously feels sorry for you. But you're still going to do it, yes?"

She does not answer. She just pushes the jaguar past the nurses' station and into his room. She is still silent when Paraná goes to his bed. He turns the lights on and gets a good look at her demeanor.

"You're drooping," he says. "Listen, you still look like a teen yourself, so you don't have to work too hard to find something to wear. What about the schoolgirl uniform you wore on our last mission?"

"Ruined. Blood all over it. I'm sure Crevecoeur has thrown that away by now."

"Get something similar, something high school worthy. Of course, I don't know many young men who would refuse you in a schoolgirl outfit."

"Okay, I guess, but I intend to kill him before he gets his hands on me." She shakes her head nervously. "Sorry, I'm just not sure about this mission anymore."

"Look, it's your third hunt. It's like an entrance exam. It doesn't matter who the mark is. Just get it done and become a member. It's what you want, isn't it? Seriously, so what if your handler doesn't think much of your abilities? After you get the young McDaniels, you can go after the even bigger criminals. Who knows? Maybe the first mark you choose will make you rich."

Still pouting, Tivoli nods and approaches him. "Can I ask you one more question? You're not still mad about the money, are you?"

"Hmm? What money?"

"The thirty thousand I made. You got mad when I showed it to you. I know we didn't earn it together, but I've been putting it to good use. I bought myself some new clothes and I got some new furniture for your house. Altogether, I've spent about five thousand...." She is now standing over him. She gets close enough that her knees are touching his. "...and when you finally come home, we can set up a joint account. If I get a good enough mark, it won't be just me getting rich."

Before he knows it, Tivoli has her hands on his shoulders again. She leans in and tenderly kisses his mouth. It surprises him and he is not as into it as she is. While she gently strokes the fur on his neck with her hands, he just sits still and lets it happen. She pulls back, smiles at him, then leans back in for another. This time, she slowly works the tip of her tongue into his mouth. His hands move up to her waist. He touches her, but does not grab. He is just not as eager to kiss as she is for some reason.

After a half minute, she lets go and sits next to him, smiling from ear to ear. "So? What are you gonna do now?"

Paraná stands and slowly walks away from her. He is limping and is in some pain, but he manages to reach the bathroom across the foot of the bed. "I smell like this room, so I'm going to take a shower."

"Do you want me to spend the night?"

He shrugs weakly. "Do whatever you want."

"I'll be here waiting for you then."

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

Hoeness is pacing around the front parking lot of the Rapid Recovery building. He looks like he is ready for a formal outing, dressed in a dark suit, black slacks, and a new pair of black shoes. His hands are planted deep into his pockets as he looks up at the cloudless sky. He has stopped in front of his brand new car, the only car in the parking lot right now. It does not have any license plates on it and it is shining brightly in the sun, so he must have just bought it a day or two ago.

The German Shepherd clasps his hands in front of him and takes a deep breath. He looks excited and nervous at the same time, as if he is waiting for someone to arrive or for something big to happen. He looks at the gold watch, also new, on his right wrist. He does a double take at the time and decides to do his waiting inside the new car.

He turns on the radio and listens to the morning news. It is Friday morning and the time is now eight o'clock. The national news consists of the President's overseas trip, an earthquake in the South Pacific, and the longest drought in Eastern Africa in years. In the local news, Governor Cartwright is coming to Los Angeles, there was a bench-clearing brawl during the Dodgers game, and a new bar is opening this weekend, headed by "decorated former police officer Theodore Mullins." The news anchor mentions that he will air an interview with Mr. Mullins and a couple of short snippets of interviews with some local competing bars and pubs. Among those competitors will be the owners of The Shark Pit. Hoeness laughs quietly at the mention of his boss' full name.

The slow hum of an oncoming car perks the dog's head up. He lowers the volume on the radio and looks through the windshield at a red sedan that takes its usual spot next to the front door. "Good morning, ma'am," he says quietly and disappointedly. It is Mrs. Cross' car and it is clear that she is not the one he is waiting for. Still, he decides to exit his car. By the time Mrs. Cross leaves hers, the dog is right in front of her. "Good morning, ma'am," he repeats.

"Well, look who it is," the chief says with exuberance. The smile on her face is certainly a rare sight indeed. "You're early! You're never early, much less the first one here. Hold on, let me open the door."

The chief is wearing a black, sequined dress and red, high-heeled shoes. Her hairstyle is a bit different from the usual, long strands and bangs that she frequently wears. The new look has Hoeness baffled. He looks her over, staring at her like he has never seen a woman before. His mouth opens in surprise, but closes quickly when she turns to face him. "Um...listen, I wanted to talk to you about...." The dog is at a loss for words.

"Yes?"

"Are you working in that?"

Mrs. Cross laughs and holds the door open for him. "I'm glad you asked. It just so happens that Governor Cartwright is coming to Los Angeles on a two-day visit."

"I heard."

"Yes, well it's a campaign stop, of course, and I missed it when he stopped here last month. So I made a point of attending this trip. He's going to make a few stops in the Greater Los Angeles area. Naturally, my being there means that I won't be working today. So, I'm counting on Ted to run both parts of the business while I'm away. I'm also counting on you and the others to make sure both parts don't collide. Know what I mean?"

Hoeness nods. "We'll be careful." He passes her and enters the lobby.

"This is a really big deal. This is only the second time since I got this job that I'll be away for a long period of time. I'll be back either Tuesday or Wednesday." She follows carefully as she tries to negotiate her way inside; the shoes seem to be slowing her down. "I got a call from Ted last night. He told me that some of the workers, you especially, were really interested in talking to me. Well, I'm here. Is there anything you want to tell me before I go?"

He hesitates to continue, watching her pass by, continuously scoping her body as he turns on the lights. The dress she wears really exposes her shapely form. He clearly likes what he sees and takes a few deep breaths, ogling her as she looks around the room. "I got paid yesterday. It was...um...a bit less than what was promised. What was ten thousand dollars had been...somewhat condensed."

"Hoeness, I'm glad you're bringing this up. Let's talk about this in my office. I gotta go there anyway."

The dog nods and dutifully follows her through the dark hallway. He is close enough to smell her perfume and the rest of her makeup. He wrinkles his nose as he tries to ignore the chemical irritants floating around her.

"Tell me something. Was it still a lot of money after the pay cut?"

"Well, yeah, but--"

"Then don't worry about it. The adjustments won't last very much longer. The thing is, in light of certain events, I had a huge choice to make. I had to take money away from either the killers or the business. Neither decision was a good one, but the business..." She stops walking and faces the dog, looking at him with a serious gaze. "...my business, the one I started three years ago, is a priority. It pains me to shortchange you guys like that, and I know you all work so hard, but something had to be done."

"You're paying him, aren't you?"

Mrs. Cross resumes her walk. The smile returns to her face. "Mr. Petrescu's only working for us until he gets the eighteen thousand dollars he's been asking for. He'll earn it the way you guys earn your money. Better to earn it by working instead of demanding it from one of our newest members."

"Yeah, I still remember that day. I remember you got him to follow you to your office after he convinced everybody that he had us over a barrel. So, what'd you two talk about?"

"Well, he did have us over a barrel. He told me everything, from the day his friends, Pica and Dunn, formulated the plan to capture one of our marks, to the day they saw Winter shoot him. He found out about this place on his own; Pica didn't tell him. Dunn didn't either, so they're both blameless."

"The only one I blame is the she-wolf."

"Winter's innocent. She was just in the right place at the wrong time. Nobody, least of all you, is gonna blame her for anything. You can blame me if you want. If you're mad at me for giving in to Petrescu, that's fine. But as long as he works here and gradually gets his money, he stays away from the police and the FBI. Speaking of which, we really oughta do something about them." She finally reaches her office door.

"I almost hate to ask, but has he caught any marks?"

"Three. He's got a little over nine thousand out of it."

"Should have killed him when I had the chance."

"Don't be stupid. You'd never get away with it. Petrescu knows too many people." She fumbles through for her purse for her keys. It takes longer because of the lack of light, but she eventually finds them.

At this moment, Hoeness sniffs and creeps up behind the chief. "Careful, ma'am. That door smells different."

"Different? How does...oh, come on! Who left this thing open?!"

He sniffs again and clears his throat. "Someone's in there." Instincts take over and he steps in front of her, pushing her backwards. As quietly as he can, he pushes the door open and creeps inside. Concerned, Vivian follows him closely; his active tail hits her legs a couple of times.

There seems to be nobody in the room. The lights are already on and they illuminate an orderly, perfectly clean office. The black chair in front of the desk is actually facing away from the desk. Otherwise, everything looks as normal.

Hoeness sighs, both in relief and frustration. Vivian chuckles. "You see, that's why I like you working dogs. That protection thing you guys do always makes me glad I'm friends with the police officers and their type. You know, for a moment, I thought you guys didn't like me."

"Well I was just...." The German Shepherd, who had always done his best to avoid the chief, shrugs and lowers his head. "Thanks. This room still smells funny."

"Oh, knock it off. There's no one here. I just need the keys to Miranda's office so I can get my extra shoes...as soon as I remember where I put them." She throws her purse on her desk.

Pamila yells and springs up from the black chair, startling the other two behind the desk. She turns around and sees Hoeness and Vivian right in front of her. She stumbles, but keeps her balance. Vivian looks disappointed. Hoeness growls and huffs. The fox's eyes pace back and forth between her adversaries. She breathes loudly from an open, flabbergasted mouth. Because the German Shepherd is in the room, she should be angry, but because her boss is there as well, she does not know how to react. Her hands droop to her sides and she tries to turn away.

"What are you doing here?" Mrs. Cross steps forward to retrieve her purse. "It just turned eight. You don't come here this early."

"Tobias is sick. I decided to come in earlier than normal. I prefer to clean in the mornings. I don't want to come in the evenings anymore because it fills up with roaches." She stares straight at Hoeness. "The two-legged kind."

"How'd you get the keys to this place?"

"Tobias told me last night that he wouldn't make it in today. I decided to go to his house this morning and get Crevecoeur's keys from him. I just finished cleaning your office."

"You fell asleep in front of the liquor cabinet, didn't you?"

Hoeness chuckles, causing the fox to throw a freshly used rag at his face. "Don't judge me."

"I'm not," Vivian answers, "but really? Could you not be tempted for just one day?"

"I wasn't tempted. I was just tired." She is breathing laboriously from being startled from her sleep.

"Well, at least you don't show up to work drunk. I see you still show up angry though. If I didn't know better, I'd say you hated your coworkers."

"Oh really? Now how would you ever come up with idea like that?"

Hoeness grunts. "How indeed." He leaves the room angrily, closing the door behind him.

Now, only Vivian Cross and Pamila remain, together for the first time since the boss assigned the fox her current job. The human looks around the room, admiring the effort put into its sanitation. She does not dwell on it for very long and focuses on her employee. "So...how've you been?"

Vivian's smile makes Pamila close her eyes. She takes a deep breath through her nose and tries to calm her taxed heart from beating through her chest. Seconds later, she opens them to see that the boss is still looking at her.

"Sorry I scared you." She tries to go around the desk and bumps into the ubiquitous blue bucket, half-filled with dirty water. "Ew. Almost made a mess."

"That's it?!"

"Huh?"

"You sentence me to purgatory, you work and lounge in the rooms that the little brat makes me clean, and now that we see each other for the first time in weeks, that's all you say? 'How've you been?' What the hell?"

Vivian sighs with dread. "You know, Zesty and Mariana are gone; the people who intimidated you the most have been removed from their positions. They can no longer tease you, harass you, or goad you into a fight. So how come you're still angry? Who is left for you to be angry at?" She sighs as she waits for an answer. Pamila simply folds her arms and looks at her. Her mouth opens, but no answer comes forth. The chief shrugs and gets closer to her. "You got the keys? I need to get into Miranda's office."

"On the cabinet."

"Good. Now tell me, what is it you want me to say? It's our first time together in a while, so...if 'How've you been' isn't good enough, then what is?"

"How about 'Good job, Pamila?' Or...'I've never seen an office so clean, Pamila?' Couldn't you compliment me on a job well done?"

"You know, Tobias doesn't fish for praise. In his financial state, he can't afford to. He cleans without asking questions, even though he knows what goes on here. The trade-off is that he gets paid very well. If he ever divulges what we do to anyone, we'll get in trouble, sure, but he stops getting paid. Worse still, his life would be in danger. So, he works really, really hard. What I'm saying is this. You're feeling what he's feeling right now. You're cut off from your primary source of income, because of past behavior. Instead of thousands a week, you're making fifty a day." Vivian sighs with exasperation, trying not to get as angry as the fox is. "Look, you've got only two weeks left in your sentence. Don't blow it now. Just come here, do your job, and go home. Stop looking for compliments. Stop antagonizing your fellow workers and this nightmare will be over before you know it."

The fox folds her arms. "Fine. I just think it's shitty that I don't get recognized for all the hard work I've had to put myself through."

"Well, I think it's beneath you to be outworked by a seventeen-year-old. When I gave you this task I thought you'd take to it like you do other challenges. Frankly, I'm worried that you might be getting soft. "

"Fine! You got me. I'm not as good as he is, okay? Compared to me, he's a machine. He's got a couple of lithium batteries jammed up his ass and he never runs out of steam. I get it."

"He does run on a battery--a battery called 'a good breakfast.'"

"Oh, spare me."

"I'm telling you, my friend, you could do with a good breakfast too. Last I checked, bourbon doesn't have any vitamins or minerals." Vivian laughs as she passes Pamila to get the keys. "Speaking of alcohol, I'm getting a drink. You want one?"

Pamila looks at the liquor cabinet again. She is not as enamored with it now that the chief is in the way, but her eyes light up when she opens it. "You serious?" (The key to the cabinet is on the keychain that Pamila was holding. If she had been paying attention, she would know which key the chief just used.) She steps closer to the bottles of hard liquor and watches as Mrs. Cross looks over her entire collection. Instantly, the fox relaxes, loosening her arms and legs. She speaks in a softer, friendlier voice. "Well...I wouldn't mind having that bottle of scotch you got on the top. I don't mind telling you; it's been calling to me ever since I first saw it."

"Simon tells me it's your favorite alcoholic beverage."

Pamila rolls her eyes. "Actually, my favorite drink is bourbon."

"Ha. That makes my earlier joke even more poignant." The boss takes one of the bottles of gin from the bottom of the cabinet and closes the cabinet door. "Unfortunately for you, that bottle of scotch is neither for sale nor rent. It's being saved for a very special occasion. I'd invite you to that occasion, but you're already in enough trouble without a bunch of cops surrounding you. Also...I don't feel good letting you have one of these when you're still...you know...being punished."

"Ugh. Then why'd you invite me to have one?"

"Because I genuinely feel bad for you. But I'll give you something to look forward to. Next month, when you're a fully fledged hunter again, you and me will hang back here, or in the executive suite, and we'll have a drink together. I'll share with you one of these drinks, any one you want, except the scotch. You can even invite friends over. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Whatever good feelings Pamila had toward her boss just now are starting to disappear. She sighs heavily and takes a couple of steps back. "Well, you got your drink, and you're dressed nice, so what's the occasion?"

"I'm going to Eagle's campaign stops this morning. All of them. I've also given him a personal invitation to join me for a get-together afterwards. He likes gin, so I'm bringing him some."

"Does his wife know?"

"She's making her own campaign stops in Long Beach, so no."

"Wonderful." The fox makes her way to the bucket and picks it up. "Color me surprised. I didn't think you'd go for the bigoted types. I'd think that you, someone who hires anthros, would be against his policies that clamp down on furry-owned businesses, including some that I'm real fond of. I guess I'm wrong."

"They're not anti-furry polices. They're safeguards that protect the public. And it's too late to do anything about it now because the proposition was voted on by the people. It passed, by the way."

"Did he happen to put his stamp behind the raids on The Shark Pit?"

"You caused those raids, not him!" Vivian releases a tired sigh. "Benton Cartwright's a friend of mine. You know that, right?"

"Well, you're friends with a motherfucker. And by that, I mean he fucks his mother. I think 'politician' is a dirtier word, but motherfucker's got the better sting. No doubt about it."

The chief narrows her eyes at Pamila's brazen, standoffish ways. Even more annoying is that the fox is quite comfortable talking to her employer that way. They look at each other for what seems like a long time before Vivian turns to lock the liquor cabinet. The happy demeanor she entered with did not last very long. When she turns back to face the fox, she is ready with a comeback. "You know, you're not as clever as you think you are."

"I'm not clever. I'm just succinct."

"Well, that trait is not favorable for you. If you keep that up, you'll be cleaning other peoples' offices for a very long time."

"Does that mean the get-together is off?"

They look at each other again. The boss is now visibly angry. Pamila hardly cares. While she holds the bucket, she looks weaker than the human, but she holds her ground. Vivian shakes her head. "I thought we were gonna have a connection. I guess not. You don't want us to be friends? That's fine, but just don't forget I'm the superior."

"B F'n D."

"Fine. You know, that cabinet's now got my fingerprints on it. Make sure it's clean before you leave."

"You won't bring me down. I'll clean that cabinet!" She angrily puts the bucket of dirty water on the floor and trots to the liquor cabinet. She puts her hands in her back pocket, looking for the rag, then grunts in frustration. "Hoeness has my towel."

"Then wipe it with your shirt!" Vivian Cross opens the door and leaves Pamila alone to stew.

As the door is slammed shut, the fox shrugs and returns to what she was doing before she was awakened. She sits on the boss' chair and stares at the newly locked receptacle. Her eyes glide slowly across the bottles of colored drinks. There is a green bottle of vermouth on the middle shelf that looks brand new. "Well, hello," she says. "She may be a bitch, but she's got great taste."

The door behind her slowly opens. There is a soft knock followed by a weak cough, but once the door fully opens, a bubbly, bluish-gray cat walks through. She looks around and laughs quietly, drawing the fox's attention. "Talking to yourself again?" she asks.

Pamila rises from the chair and chuckles with legitimate pride. "Camille, my friend, you're a sight for sore eyes."

"I know. I just came to see how you were. I also have an announcement."

"You're wearing a pantsuit. What's the occasion?"

"Oh, this thing?" She straightens her collar and approaches the disheveled fox. "I'm making rounds. The party's back on. I want to personally invite all our friends, so I'll be going from house to house, figuratively speaking. St. Croix wants to come, so I've invited him first. Now I'm going to the hospital to visit Beth. Our friend's gonna return home in a couple of days."

"Oh really? How is she?"

"She got trampled after the bomb blew up. Broken arm, but that's all. Nothing to really hold a grudge over."

"It's the only part of the mission I feel bad about." The fox returns to her seat. "We were just supposed to eat lunch. None of that should have happened...and since I didn't get paid anyway, I wish I could go back in time and start over."

"Then you wouldn't have tried to kill an executive and you'd be going to the meetings instead of doing what you're doing now."

"Don't rub it in, okay? I still stand by my methods. If only the damned secretary didn't deliver the box there."

Camille approaches her friend; she puts a calming hand on her left shoulder. "You know what? You got lint on your head. Hold still."

"No, leave it there. I don't deserve your help."

"I'm doing it anyway. I want you to look good because you're going with me to see our mouse friend. I'm sure she's dying to see you too. Then we'll plan the party. We'll do it at my house."

Pamila's ears stand erect as she becomes optimistic. "So when's that happening?"

"That depends. When do you finally stop doing this?"

"I've got two weeks left. Technically, my last day would be Sunday."

Camille backs away, having removed all the signs of lint from the fox's head. "Then we'll do it two weeks from today. It'll be the best Friday night of the summer...assuming everyone I want to show up does. So when are you through?"

"I'm almost finished. I just have to clean this thing." She stands and walks to the liquor.

"Ooh, that's new. Let me see." Camille runs past her friend, almost knocking over the bucket, and practically presses her nose on the glass. "When did she get this?"

"A couple of weeks ago."

"Wow. I had no idea the chief was into the hard stuff."

"Yeah, it's almost admirable. I stress almost. It makes me wonder what else we don't know about her. She's probably got a collection of hardcore porn hidden somewhere in her house, or maybe a riding crop and some dominatrix gear."

"I just saw her a minute ago. She's all dressed up. Where's she going?"

"Believe me, the less said about that, the better." She turns angry again and picks up the bucket. "You know what? Fuck this. I've cleaned the cafeteria and this office. That's enough for today. I'm gonna punch out and take off."

"Great. You want to clean up in the locker room?"

"No, I do it at home. Then we'll go see Beth." With the cat right by her side, Pamila takes the bucket to the locker room and empties it. Then she uses the keys to enter the conference room. After using the punch card, they are ready to leave. Camille picks up her friend's spirits with a couple of bad jokes and they laugh as they head through the dark hallway. As they close in on the lobby, they hear the loud voices of the milling crowd. They hear the front door open and a couple of new voices rise above the din. Pamila stops as her radar-like ears pick up the extra noise. "Uh-oh."

"What? Why are we stopping?"

Without answering, Pamila runs to the end of the hallway and stops to look at the people inside. The lobby has a small but growing crowd, including a couple of workers that she most likely will not recognize. Prosper is there, sitting in the front. Next to him is a new face--a polecat who looks eager for the meeting to start. She sneers at the sight of Hoeness, who is waiting for a couple of stragglers to enter the room. The stragglers are the wolves, Shiloh and Winter. They head over to the front desk to greet St. Croix, who exuberantly shakes their hands.

Pamila tsks and backs away. "Let's go the other way."

"What for?"

"There's a couple there that I'd rather not see. The ones who just came in."

Camille raises her eyebrows. "Oh, that's the new girl. This is only my second time seeing her. What's her name again?"

"Winter. That's her name. Isn't that stupid?"

"Her parents are clearly geniuses. But we're just leaving. We'll just pass them and nothing will happen."

"Sorry, friend. Can't take that chance. That's Shiloh's girl and the last time we met...well, to put it bluntly, I cleaned her clock."

The cat chuckles and nods. "You hit her? Good reason. Let's go the other way."

Pamila leads the way and seconds later, they cross the hall and enter the cafeteria. They walk with a quick pace, but as the voices behind them fade away, they slow down. The fox release a quite evil laugh.

"But why did you hit her?"

"Because she hit me. It's a long story, but our first meeting didn't go so well. She didn't have to be such a bitch, but she was. We've been going back and forth ever since."

"You been hitting each other for...how long?"

"Does it matter?"

"So, it's like you and Zesty all over again, except quieter."

"This is nothing like that. Remember how it was between you and Mariana? You two kept trying to one up each other until you folded? Well, that's how this thing between me and the wolf is going to go. One of us will fold. It won't be me." The fox holds the door open for her friend.

"Just be careful. If Shiloh get's involved, you could be going to the hospital for a different reason."

"He won't do shit to me."

Camille laughs and steps outside. "You're right. Discretion is the better part of valor."

Pamila laughs in turn. "You calling me a coward?"

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

[I hate it when my dreams are interrupted, especially since I'm now off the morphine. After the catheter was removed, the morphine pump was taken away. I now take it in tablet form. It takes longer to work and doesn't have the immediate side effects. The last dream with Pamila will be my last one with the strong medicines. I'm not sure she'll be there as often as before.]

[The pills will help with the pain of my transplant scar and the dinner will help me gain the weight back. In the meantime, it's Thursday night and I've been told that I would go home Saturday afternoon at the latest. My dad will drive me home and I have to follow a certain set of rules. I will be sequestered at home for one month. That means no driving anywhere. I have to partake in a regular exercise regimen, avoid long periods of sun, and get regular sleep.]

[Before my operation, I was getting six hours of sleep or less. The dreams I had didn't last very long. Since then, mainly because of the drugs, I'd sleep five or six times a day for at least two hours at a time. I'd miss a lot of time, but the dreams were vivid and were telling a story. That's why I hated this last one being interrupted. After Camille and Pamila left, I was awakened by the orderly. When I went back to sleep, Crevecoeur had entered Paraná's house, where Tivoli is staying. He had told her that the client wants the hit of Keith McDaniels to go down that very day. The ocelot was curious about who the client was and was about to be told. That's when I was awakened when the orderly took my tray away.]

[I'm getting a better handle on who I dream about and when I dream about them. If I just go back to bed, the ocelot should return....]

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

The minivan clock says 6:30. The sky is filling with clouds and the lack of sun makes the outside darker than usual for this time of the day. The rain will not take long to arrive. The van drives through the highway at a very high speed, weaving through straggling cars as it does so. Robert Crevecoeur looks like he is under a bit of pressure. He is sweating rather profusely even though the air conditioning is keeping the inside cool. He has a tight grip on the steering wheel and is breathing laboriously. He looks like he has run quite a distance.

Taking her usual place next to him is Tivoli, who is adjusting the brassiere underneath the white blouse she is wearing. Her bottom half is wearing a plaid, red-and-white, pleated skirt. It is basically the same uniform she wore on her last hunt. There is no sign of blood on this one; in fact, this skirt looks to be shorter than the last one. She is equally uncomfortable, but seems to be handling the stress better than he is. When he turns into an off ramp, he swerves the car so hard that she hits her head on the passenger-side window.

"Hey! Be careful!"

"No time." Crevecoeur steps on the gas pedal and speeds to wherever it is they are going. He is driving fifteen miles an hour over the current speed limit, but nobody seems to notice.

"I know you keep telling me not to be nervous, but...you're making me nervous!"

"Don't yell at your tutor, dear." He speeds on until a traffic light stops his progress. "This is your history-making mark. You get this and you're in. Being snippy won't help your chances."

"I'm not...damn." She fiddles with her bra strap as her handler resumes driving. "I wish you would have given me more warning."

"Don't yell at me. Yell at Mrs. McDaniels. She's the one who's...." Suddenly, he presses his mouth closed.

"I should've gone with a tank top like before. I just bought this damn thing and it's pinching like crazy." She adjusts the strap some more, then pushes her breasts up. "I wish I had a mirror." She gives up whatever she is doing and stares straight ahead at the road. They remain quiet for a couple of minutes when she suddenly turns to the human and asks, "Did you say Mrs. McDaniels?"

He slowly shakes his head as if he has just made a mistake. He eases the grip on the wheel and starts to relax, though he looks more depressed than calm. "What a week," he says.

"Did you just say--"

"Yes! Mrs. McDaniels is the client. She wants her son dead." He shakes his head vigorously. "God! That's the first thing they tell you not to do. Don't tell the hitmen who the client is."

"Goodness. I had no idea."

"Well, now you know. Just don't let it make you attached to the victim. Just do the job and you're golden. Ah, good. We're here." He starts to slow the van down and make the turn into the parking lot of a hotel. Their arrival surprises the ocelot that she winds the window down and sticks her head out. "This is where we're going?" The cold air makes her sneeze, but she continues to look out in astonishment. "This is where the mark is?"

"Keith's been staying there for the last two days. He called his mother yesterday and told him where he was staying and asked for money. She called me this morning, saying that she's convinced her son to stay an extra day. That's long enough for you to finish the job."

"I gotta do it in his hotel room? Wouldn't that be within earshot of other people?"

"Not if you plan it right. Of course, if you're able to coax him out of the room and kill him outdoors, we could go home faster." He sighs with exasperation as he finds a parking spot. "Look, bear with me okay? This is real sudden for the both of us. I'm making this up as I go along."

They step out of the van, both irritated and unsure. Crevecoeur stands by the vehicle and looks at the hotel entrance. His mind is racing and his eyes are pacing. There are a couple of bellhops carrying suitcases on the other side of the glass door. He leers at them as if planning to off them. On the other side of the van, Tivoli is still trying to adjust her straps. She grunts and groans, but gives up in the end. Her sigh of frustration attracts Crevecoeur to her.

She leans her back against the front passenger door and stares at the ground. She notices her handler in front of her, but does not look at him. "I'm all right. I'm just feeling for it right now. I didn't get a chance to prepare or anything. It's just 'get dressed and let's go.' I'm not even sure I should wear these clothes."

He nods with understanding. "Hold still." He reaches to her and puts his hands on her shoulders.

"Wait. What are you doing?" Before she realizes what is happening, the human has slipped his hands underneath her blouse; his hands are on her back, fondling the hooks of her undergarment. She quietly squeals "What are you doing?"

"I have two girls who've just got out of training bras, and I once had a wife with body image issues. I know all there is to know about bras. Just stay calm."

Tivoli grits her teeth and moans quietly. "Don't unhook it," she whispers. Her palpable embarrassment makes her tightly close her eyes. There is nobody around to see them, but she covers her face with her hands.

Crevecoeur pulls and prods, but he releases her seconds after he starts. "You're too big for what you have on, but it should be fine now. Let's go. I've thought of something." Without talking more about what just happened, he marches to the hotel. He faces straight ahead, seemingly not caring that he is leaving her behind.

By the time Tivoli has gathered her wits, her handler is feet away from her. She calls out to him, then runs to his side. He puts an arm around her. The hit is going down right now, whether the ocelot is ready or not. She is as unprepared for a kill as she has ever been and her walk shows it. When they enter the lobby, it looks like an adopted feline kit is being dragged along by her angry human stepdad.

"Mrs. McDaniels told me the room number her son's staying in. I'm going to check us in and hopefully we'll get a room not too far from where he is. That way, your getaway won't be too complicated." He shakes his read; he does not look ready himself. "This is gonna be tight. Good thing I prepared beforehand."

"You've got money to pay for our room?"

"Credit card. It's also a good thing the kids are with my mom for the night. Find a place to sit and wait. You got your weapon?" He looks down at her just in time to see her nod. "Good. Keep it hidden."

He leaves her and steps to the front counter. The nervous ocelot looks around. The lobby is mostly empty with a few uniformed workers coming and going. She finds a nearby cushioned bench and sits with her hands sandwiched between her knees. To her right, a couple walks in with their kids. The twin girls run into the lobby ahead of their parents. They take a glimpse of the ocelot and try to approach her. One child points to her tail laying on the carpet. Before they can touch it, they are called away. She tries the rhythmic breathing exercise she did the day before when she was with Paraná. After a minute of releasing shaky, unconfident breaths, she gives up and just turns to look at her handler, who is coming right at her.

"We're staying in the second floor," he says. "The mark will be above us. Let's get situated and I'll tell you what to do."

At times, it looks like Tivoli is being forced against her will. She looks around the lobby as they head for the elevators. "I forgot my purse in the car," she says.

"What do you need it for?"

"My makeup."

"Forget it." As they enter the elevators, Crevecoeur yawns loudly, making his charge even more nervous. "All right. Mrs. McDaniels gave me a cover that we could use to get close to her son. It turns out that Arlo McDaniels was real fond of call girls and had a couple of favorites. He once had such a girl visit Keith for the boy's birthday. So the idea is--"

"I'm a prostitute?"

"Don't interrupt...and yes, you are. You're a present from Arlo. You get close to him, you off him, you clean up, and...."

The elevator doors open, causing the executive to clam up. Holding the electronic key he was given, he takes a few feet to his right. The ocelot has trouble matching his strides and she continues to trail far behind him. She continues looking around as if looking for someone following them. Her breathing picks up and she starts to run. She does not get far.

The ocelot runs into Crevecoeur's back and falls. He turns quickly to see her on all fours. "Take it easy. The door's open." He helps her up and leads her into the room. "I'll bet your heart is folding in on itself."

"I wish I were home."

"Me too." He closes the door behind him. "Look at you. You look like you've been running a marathon. You wanna take a shower before you begin?"

Tivoli sees the bed across the room and has a seat. Her hands again get tucked between her knees. The teacher ignores her trepidation and goes through his plan again. She listens as intently as she can, but it only makes her look more scared.

He approaches her and places his hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry I'm not Paraná. You'd probably not be acting this way if I were him. Anyway, you gotta relax. You need to be smiling when you go to Keith. He's gonna be suspicious when he first sees you. You gotta make him feel good about you being there."

"Then I'm gonna be doing a lot of faking."

"Just look as happy to be there as possible. You need to go to the bathroom and groom yourself first. You look like hell."

She nods and stands. "It'll be hard to do this without my makeup."

"Whatever's in the bathroom will have to suffice." He stays behind while she disappears through another room. He sits on the bed and waits patiently. "Once you're done, clean yourself off and meet me back down here. We can stay here as long as you want while you recuperate, because I don't want us leaving this place with you looking like you're running away from something."

"I'll be fine."

"You can stay with Keith for as long as it takes to bring him down. Keep him calm and don't let him react to anything. You'll have to be like a counselor...or maybe a hostage negotiator."

"I like the counselor thing. I can talk like that. I'll just talk like my mom."

"Don't worry about messing up the bed. If we just do this and walk away, it'll be hours before anyone notices the body in the room. Just don't get anything on yourself."

After a couple of minutes, Tivoli leaves the bathroom and walks over to Crevecoeur. Her fur looks less ragged and her hair is much smoother than before. Her blouse is as straight as it can be. Her pleated skirt barely touches her knees. She stands in front of the tutor with her hands on her hips. "So, how do I look?"

"Smile for me." Crevecoer watches as she does what she is told. He sighs and shakes his head in response. "I've dealt with call girls before. If I could be frank, you don't look sexy at all."

She rolls her eyes. "Well, thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Well, I think he'll still buy it. You may not look sexy, but you're relatable. You're pretty much the same age as he is, so you'll be easy to talk to. Here, have this." He takes a couple of twenties from his shirt pocket. "If he wants anything to eat, you make the order for him. You tip the servant. Keep him in your sight at all times. I've got the feeling he's gonna be squirrelly. You ready?"

She nods and swallows. "Which room?"

"320. If I'm not here, I'll probably be at the bar downstairs. But most likely, I'll be here, probably asleep. Take your time."

Tivoli is escorted out of the room. She watches the door close behind her and looks herself over. She straightens her blouse and lowers her skirt a bit. Her brassiere is not bothering her anymore and she looks the most confident she's ever been today, which is to say not that confident. She takes a deep breath before walking away from the room Crevecoeur bought for them.

Five minutes later, she is standing at Keith McDaniels' door, staring at the number. "You've come this far," she tells herself. "Just knock." She closes in on the door and raises her hand, but instead of knocking, gives the door a slight push. As it turns out, it was already open slightly. The ocelot smirks as she slowly steps in. The room looks much like the one her handler had just moved in to.

She shields her eyes upon entering. All of the doors are open and all of the lights are on. There is one king-sized bed in the middle of the room. On top of it is a large, open case. There are folded clothes inside of it and crumpled clothes on the pillows. Also on the bed are a new toothbrush that is still in its packaging, a tube of toothpaste, a gold watch, deodorant spray, and an iPod connected to a pair of earbuds. There is a voice coming from the bathroom on the far side. Tivoli quietly closes the door behind her and sneaks herself to the center of the room.

The occupant of the room appears through the bathroom door, holding a smartphone to his left ear. He is wearing a neatly pressed, green Polo shirt, brown slacks, and black designer shoes. He is dressed in his Sunday best and, as he packs his toiletries in the case, it is clear that he is about to leave. He talks on the phone, keeping his eyes on his packing and does not notice the ocelot.

For her part, Tivoli looks on nervously and backs herself to the front door. Her eyes widen when she gets a good look at his face. "Wow, you are a kid," she whispers. Her nervousness returns as she hears to him talk. He looks and sounds like he is still in high school. Breathing heavily, she turns away from his face. He does not notice her and he is apparently not staying for long. She looks at her feet and scratches her head. "What now, Crevecoeur?"

Keith laughs and nods as he listens to the person on the other line. The conversation is upbeat and loose. He continually emits childlike cackles and content sighs. "Yeah, I'd like to see you in that," he says. "No, I like black. I don't think it'll make you look old." He sits on the bed. "I'm ready for you. I've been ready for two hours. When are you coming?" He waits patiently and laughs again, unraveling the buttons on his shirt with his free hand. "Yeah, I can relax until you get here. I'll just watch some TV or something." Keeping the phone to his ear, he closes the case and leans his back against the headboard, facing the foot of the bed. He now sees the ocelot.

Tivoli is standing right in front of the door, standing as still as a statue. Her hands are on her hips and her legs are crossed. She tries to look as confident and as attractive as possible. There are no signs of anxiety or anger at the moment. Her appearance is pleasing to the eye. They look at each other for a few seconds, then she boldly mouths "hello" at the boy before showing quite possibly the fakest smile she has ever made in her life.

The boy shudders nervously and drops the phone. He stares rudely at the ocelot who is desperately trying to keep her breathing under control. He watches her hike her skirt up until the pleats no longer touch her knees; he can now see a little bit of thigh. He scrambles for the phone and puts it to his ear. "Um...listen, I have to call you back. I'll see you soon." Sitting at the edge of the bed, he scopes her carefully. His hands clench in typical fight-or-flight response, but the rest of him just sits there. She is an intruder, but not one he might be willing to get rid of that quickly.

His nervous lips quiver before he asks, "Who are you?"

"I'm a present from your dad." The words come out of her mouth stilted and forced, as if she is rehearsing a play. "Yeah...he sent me." She slowly walks forward.

Keith apparently does not see through her and looks at his feet. "Dad again?"

"He must really love you to send me." She giggles.

"Ugh." The boy stands up and resumes packing the case. The happiness he felt while talking on the phone is quickly replace with anger and anguish. He steals a few glances at the feline while he continues stuffing clothes in the container.

"What's the matter?" She puts her hands back on her hips and continues moving forward as seductively as she can. "You're not happy to see me?"

"You're too late. I've found someone."

"You what?"

"I've found someone...a couple of months ago. She's really nice and she understands me. Actually, I've known her for longer than that, but we've been going out for the last two months. I'm moving out of L.A. tonight, probably for good. My parents don't need to know where I am; they won't care anyway. I don't...um...don't need dad's presents anymore."

Tivoli is halfway between him and the door when she stops. Her big smile shortens into a grin as another unplanned event surfaces. She looks at her feet for a couple of seconds, but resumes trying to woo him. "Hmm, that's too bad. I think I'm really nice too."

He looks up at her for a split second. "No offense. I'm sure you are nice."

"None taken. It's just that...I came a long way just to hook up with you and he paid a huge price. I'm sure he'd be disappointed if his efforts weren't rewarded."

"I've found someone."

"Yeah, you've already said that." She sighs and shrugs. "Well, at least_you're_ happy. What am I supposed to do?"

The question stops Keith for a moment. The angry, young man holds on to a folded shirt as he turns to look at her. He shakes his head and takes a step forward. "All right. You wanna do something? I'll make you feel useful. Hike up your skirt."

"What?"

He looks unsure, but still gives the order. "Lift your skirt up. Lemme see what you got."

Tivoli's ears cannot believe what they had just heard and her heart starts pounding again. He gives her an order as if he were her superior, as if he has done this before. He is looking directly at her, already suspicious, so she cannot let her nervousness show if she wants to act like a professional call girl. Her hands cling to the pleats of her skirt and lift them. She shows off her thighs before slowly exposing her panties. They are a deep shade of red and quite eye-catching against her yellow fur. She releases a huge breath as she presses the bottom of the skirt to her belly.

Keith opens his mouth in surprise; it was totally unexpected even though he asked for it. He stares for half a minute then clears his throat. "Okay, now turn around. Show me your ass." His order is loud but anxious, so it sounds like it has little authority.

She gasps as the request and stares at him for a few seconds. She thinks about it, but quickly nods and turns her back to him. She grabs her skirt with both hands and lifts it up, showing her backside to the boy. Her tail slips from the hole at the top of the skirt and hits the floor. As the young man stares at the frilly underwear that hugs her flesh, Tivoli suddenly starts to smile. It does not look fake or forced. It is as genuine as the smile she shows Paraná on a daily basis. It looks like she is starting to enjoy the attention. Judging from the young man's labored breathing, she is having an effect on him and is clearly controlling his reactions. She decides to go further.

As he looks on, she slowly bends down, putting her hands on her knees and sliding them down. Her skirt remains on her back, giving him a clear view of her goods. She slides her hands down to her toes, something she has done many times before, and gives her rear a little shake. Her tail dangles above her back and she giggles while waving it up and down. "It's okay. You can get closer if you want." Her actions are having the desired effect; he is walking towards her.

(If he looks carefully, he'd be able to see the Tivoli is armed. But his head right now is probably filled with things he'd like to do to her if he could. The tan holster, which clashes with the rest of the outfit, goes unnoticed. Stupid kid.)

At this point, Tivoli plants her hands to the floor and slides forward. She stretches, but keeps her tail end up. Keith slowly approaches the killer's nearly prone body. A soft purr escapes her, drawing him in like he was Fluffy. He has been staring at her ass for a long time now; surely he is close enough to kill.

The boy stops in his tracks after a minute of staring. "Okay, that's enough," he says. "You can get up now."

She quickly stands and straightens her skirt. When she turns to face him, they are almost nose to nose. She must have had fun doing what she was told because her smile is wider. "So? How'd I do?"

Keith's expression does not change and he ignores her friendly face. He fishes into his pockets and pulls out a crumpled wad of green paper. "Here," he says, glumly handing it off. "It's thirty bucks. That's yours." Just like that, he turns away and goes back to the bed.

The ocelot looks at the ball of money and scoffs. "That's it? That's all I get for what I just did?"

Without looking at her, he starts to fill the case with his clothes. "Tell dad I said thanks and that you did good. Tell him I said you fuck like a pro." He closes the box. "But don't tell him that I'm leaving Los Angeles."

Now they are talking like equals. Tivoli walks to the body and sits on the bed. "Can I ask you something, if it's not too forward? Is she the one? Is it true love or are you just running away on a whim?"

"What do you care?"

"Well I...just wanted to know who my competition is. I mean, I was brought all this way just to be with you, and now I'm stuck."

"Dad just dropped you off?"

"He's...not coming back for a couple of hours. He thinks we're having sex right now."

Keith sighs, puts the box down, and sits a few feet away from her. "She's a high school teacher. She teaches where I go to school in fact. We've been seeing each other for two months, like I said before, and she's smart, she's funny...and she's real rich."

"What subject does she teach?"

"Science."

Tivoli laughs. "That's nice. Not at all what I thought. Usually, it's the math teachers who have affairs with their students."

"It's not an affair. We love each other."

"But how much does she love you? She can't possibly see you and teach at the same time. You'd get discovered." She smiles from ear to ear, clearly loving this conversation.

Keith looks away from her. "Actually, we were caught. It was right before school started and we were kissing in a stairwell. Those things are supposed to be abandoned that early in the morning. We were caught by two girls, one of who was in the same Science class I was. When class started, we couldn't look at each other, even while she was teaching the class. After school, she came to me and we talked. We knew it was all over, even if the girls didn't tell anybody. They're not the kind who keep secrets. Anyway, that's why I'm leaving L.A."

"Do your parents know?"

"I don't care if they do. They haven't been involved in my life for quite some time." He keeps his eyes away from her face as he talks about the circumstances that led to his running away from home and his new lover. For a moment, it looks like a soliloquy instead of a conversation, but the ocelot listens intently. While she does, her left hand massages her left thigh.

"Dad's involved in too many bad things for me to stay with him. Mom's too busy going to country clubs, going to parties and nightclubs, and buying things to impress her rich friends. They're too wrapped up in their hobbies to worry about me. When I left home, it took them three days to call me on my phone to say they were worried."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

Tivoli's eyes widen and she shakes her head in surprise. "Wow. I knew you were young, but that's real young. Definitely too young for what your dad wants me to do to you." She shifts herself closer to Keith. He is still looking away and hardly notices.

"I've had sex with two of dad's other prostitutes before you came here today. They didn't care that I was underage. You don't have to worry about me. Besides, my birthday is in two weeks."

"How old is your new girlfriend?"

"Thirty-five."

"Well, I guess I should feel honored. Instead of having a good time with me, you're planning your future with a career woman who has a good source of cash and good prospects. It's like you're inheriting a fortune without your parents being involved. You're lucky, and...." She shifts even closer to him. "I'm quite jealous."

He turns to her, surprised by how close she is. "You are? Really?"

"Of course. But you know, you're gonna be in some trouble with the law if you two aren't careful."

Keith smirks. "They'll never find us."

Tivoli laughs and the boy relaxes enough to laugh himself. The two now look like a couple of friends having a good conversation. While he laughs, he accidentally puts his right hand on her left. She notices before he does and holds it, clasping her fingers around his. "So are you picking her up or is it the other way around."

"I'm waiting here for her to arrive. We're leaving for her hometown. She lives in Sacramento."

"And you're going there sight unseen?"

"She's told me all about it. She lives alone so there's room enough for both of us and...." He notices her hand holding his and clears his throat cautiously. "And it's really secluded, so we won't be bothered."

The ocelot takes a deep breath; the look of determination on her face shows that for better or worse, she is ready to act. "I'm happy for you guys. I really am. Of course, I can't help but wonder...if I wasn't too late, if I came to you before you found her, would you...?"

They look at each other; he is newly suspicious while she is smiling as if nothing bad is going to happen. He shakes his head and pulls his hand away. "No! I'm sorry. No offense, but I don't hook up with furries. That's sick."

"You don't? But am I not as attractive as your dad's other presents?"

"Those other prostitutes were humans. They were pretty and they did their jobs, but with you...I couldn't--"

"Don't. You don't have to finish that sentence. I feel bad enough as it is." She turns away from him and hangs her head, feigning despair. Her smile disappears and she tucks her left hand inside her skirt.

Keith stands and puts his hands in his pockets. "Look, I'm really sorry. I'm just not that brave a person. I'm just really uncomfortable around the claws and fangs and....I don't know where those things have been." He looks at her and starts to drop his defenses. "Is there anything you'd like? Anything I can get you?"

Tivoli sighs heavily, still pretending to be disgruntled. "So I don't suppose you'd give me a kiss in lieu of sex before I leave?" She chuckles as the boy shakes his head. "Well, I don't want to sound too desperate, but if I get nothing else, could I have whatever's in the minibar?"

The boy nods and heads to the small refrigerator on the other side of the bed. "What would you like?"

She again sandwiches her hands between her knees as, from out of nowhere, her anxiety returns. "Anything. Just get me something." Her breathing picks up again. Her left hand slides into her skirt to feel underneath. Her lips start to shake a little, her feet tap rapidly, and her tail slides back and forth across the bed. The bed is an island and she looks hopelessly stranded. She hangs her head and moves her mouth, whispering something to herself.

Meanwhile, Keith takes his time. He is holding three different small bottles in his puny hands. He holds them delicately, like they were precious gems. "There are three different kinds of drinks in here. One of them's a...daq...daqui...." He clears his throat and holds that particular bottle to his face. "D-A-I-Q--"

"Daiquiri. Give it to me." Tivoli bounces off the bed and marches to the boy. She snatches the daiquiri bottle from him and finishes it, practically in one motion. She grabs the other two and returns to her spot on the bed. Keith follows her to get to his suitcase, looking at her the entire time. Tivoli finishes all three bottles immediately. She does not even stop to take a breath. She throws each one on the floor at her feet and heaves a huge sigh. The feline is happy and relieved.

"I can't pay for those," Keith says. "I don't have any money."

She closes her eyes and nods. "I'll pay for everything." She turns to him and laughs at the look of disgust. "What? Haven't you seen a drunkard before?" She stands and releases a small belch. "Thanks. Look, I've really got no one to pick me up. Could I stay here with you until your girl arrives?"

Keith stands next to her, looking down on her as he tries to exert some sort of authority. He wants her to leave him alone and is hoping to mentally get the message across. "Couldn't you stay at the bar downstairs? They've got bigger drinks there."

She coughs slightly and turns to him with a playful grin. "You trying to kick me out?" She folds her arms and giggles softly; either she is trying to hide her nervousness or the drinks are starting to get to her. "That's fine. I'll leave. Just indulge me one thing."

"Mm-hmm. What's that?"

"Well...." She stretches her arms and lifts her hands above her head, getting the young man to look up. Then, suddenly and with venom, she punches him in the groin with a left uppercut. It came from nothing and was shocking as it was violent. As he doubles over, he pushes him on the bed. His head hits the backboard; the bang is loud enough to startle the ocelot. She backs away a little and watches Keith for a couple of seconds.

The young man grunts and moans in pain, grabbing the back of his head with both hands. His legs are closed together as the punch to his groin starts to take effect. He coughs loudly and tries to talk, but only a loud wail escapes his tortured frame. Still looking on, Tivoli lifts her skirt and procures the pearl-handled knife with the eight-inch blade. She encloses her left hand around the handle and slowly stalks the poor victim. Her tail is taut; it sticks up like an arrow. Her hands and feet are steady, the most stable they have ever been today. Her face is emotionless, but her tongue slowly slinks out to lick her upper lip. In seconds, she is standing over him; the point of the knife is just in front of her left eye.

Keith sits up to rest against the backboard. Once he opens his eyes, he sees her true intentions. He tries in vain to back away; he slips on the bedsheets below him. His right hand props him up and his left hand sticks out at her in a despairing attempt at defense. "Please...please don't--"

Tivoli pounces on him, leaping off the carpeted floor and landing forcefully on his body. Her girth does not do her justice; she is quite strong. In no time, he is on top of him, pinning him down. While he struggles, she digs her knees into his legs and grabs his right wrist with her right hand. He strikes her with his open left hand a couple hand a couple of times. He grunts and groans, trying to get away.

He strikes her twice. The second one hits her in the mouth. She grunts and turns her head away, only to answer back with a right cross. His head bounces off the headboard and he lies still, breathing heavily and wincing in pain. Tivoli grabs the boy by the hair, pinning him in place, then the sticks the knife against his throat. Keith releases quick, whining breaths. His eyes dart all over the place as he searches for a way to break free.

"Look at me," Tivoli says. "Put your hands up." She presses the knife harder against his neck. The discomfort and pain cause him to whimper, but he stops fighting and raises his hands like a holdup victim. Every word that Pratap used to describe the boy now seems like a lie. The cool, confident, brash, young troublemaker Tivoli was supposed to meet is now being brutally tamed.

Now that she has the knife in place, the hit can begin, but Tivoli just kneels on top of him, looking at him while her breathing slows and her anger dissipates. She continues to hold him in place by his hair with one hand and digging the blade into his throat with the other. Keith can do nothing but close his eyes and wait to die, even though he has two free hands.

The ocelot straightens herself, making the boy look really small, and tightens her grip on the pearl handle. "Kiss me," she says.

Keith closes his fists around the bedsheet and shudders, much like a small dog being held by its master. The pain of the blade was keeping his eyes closed, but then he heard his assailant speak He looks at her and swallows. "What?"

She leans in angrily. "I said kiss me." She takes the blade away from his neck and instead gently presses the point on his Adam's apple. She is easing it away from him so that he can lean toward her, but still looks angry enough to run it through. When the boy presses his hands on the bed, Tivoli straddles him, giving his quads some relief. Holding the knife close, she waits and watches as he very carefully does what is asked of him. Keith is breathing like he has already been stabbed; he is scared out of his mind. Tivoli looks on impatiently.

The boy's shuddering face presses itself against that of the angry ocelot. Their noses are pressing, but whether their lips are touching is anyone's guess. Whatever it is, it takes five seconds before Keith nervously falls backwards and lands on the pillow. He no longer has a knife to his neck, so his breathing starts to slow as well, but his eyes are alert and fixated on his plight. There is a strong, hefty cat creature sitting on his belly and holding a knife in her hand, so his life is still in danger.

Tivoli rolls her eyes and leans down, basically lying down on him. Her face hovers over his and she starts to smile. The knife returns to his throat. "Now, kiss me like a man." She releases a nasty smile and gently presses her nose on his upper lip.

The boy starts to hyperventilate. He presses his lips together and tries to push the ocelot backwards, but he feels the knife and simply lies back. She parts his lips with her own and gently pokes her tongue through his teeth. She forces the kiss; the cold steel of the blade pressed against his left cheek guarantees compliance. Tivoli moans softly, closing his lower lip in her mouth. She pulls back to look at him, then leans in once again.

Death seems quick in coming. Keith keeps his eyes open, keeping tabs on the knife. If he closes them, they may never again open. He keeps his left hand clasped to the sheet below them, but his right hand is starting to rise. He lifts it up, without her knowledge, and raises it to meet the back of her head. Whatever his intentions are come to an end though, when the ocelot raises her head. She is apparently satisfied with that last kiss.

They look at each other once again. He is rightfully scared, looking like the mark he is. However, there is a slight difference in Tivoli's behavior. She remains on top of the mark like they were lovers, but she has backed off somewhat. She is breathing normally and staring at the kid's eyes, deep in thought. He is right where she wants him, but is not doing the job. He puts his hands back at his sides, not knowing what to do against an uncertain fate.

"I can't do it." Tivoli closes her eyes, sighs, and shakes her head. She props herself up and resumes straddling the boy's waist. She breathes loudly with an open mouth, turning away from Keith and looking around her nervously. The knife is still enclosed in her left hand and pressed against his chest, keeping him at bay. He is still looking for a way out, but the words he just heard cause him to relax a bit.

"What you just say?"

"I...can't do it. I mean, I've...rehearsed this...from the moment I got here. I got my orders and I've been trying to keep everything straight, and I'm...almost there! I just...." She loosens her grip on the eight-incher as they stare at one another. Now she looks about as clueless as he does.

Keith is still shaky, but is slowly starting to relax. The feeling of a furry on his body is clearly not as disgusting or as foreboding as he must have thought. He was also just kissed and nothing bad has happened yet. So, the ocelot's stance is slowly softening. The knife is still in her hand so the situation is still dangerous, but the mark quickly notices he can gain the upper hand. While she looks at the ceiling, losing the plot and her confidence, he slowly raises both arms. This attempt to win the knife might just go his way.

"I can't do this." She lowers her head and closes her eyes once again. "You're just a kid, not at all like I pictured you to be. I just...hey!" Her left wrist is suddenly grabbed by Keith's hands. He has a strong grip and almost pries the knife from her grasp. He grunts angrily and tries to raise himself off the bed. Tivoli whimpers loudly and almost falls off her prey. She barely holds on to the knife as they both start to struggle. It does not last long at all; she is heavier and stronger. After a few seconds, her physical abilities win out and Keith is back on his back with an angry creature growling at him. "Don't do that."

"What the hell do you want?!" The boy is more angry than frightened at this point.

On the other hand, the ocelot is a bundle of nerves. She hisses at him and presses the knife to his throat again. The effect is not the same as last time; the boy is not acting like a victim so the threat has no meaning. Things are right back where they were. She is straddled on top of him, threatening to kill him, while he is underneath and mostly immobile. She closes her mouth and tries to control her breathing.

She heaves angry breaths on his face and tries to keep herself in charge. "Now listen to me!" She turns her head and looks around, then gasps when she sees that the front door is still open. It has been that way the entire time. She closes her eyes and whispers a curse, then returns to the boy. It is a huge mistake to leave the door open, but it is just as well. Keith does not know or he would be screaming for help by now. Whatever happens from now on has to happen quietly. It does not look like they have been seen, but there is always a chance that a passerby could have seen the knife.

She leans in and says, "Okay, listen. I don't have much time and I need us to be quiet, okay?"

"You're trying to kill me!"

"Keep yelling and I will! Just don't make a sound and you'll live." She turns her head and sees the open door. Satisfied to know that nobody is passing by, she continues. "But I don't want to." She caresses his chest with her free hand. "I work for a group of people, ex police officers in fact, who run a company of hitmen. There are about thirty hitmen in this group and they get assigned jobs all over the country. Killing you is my job. I was assigned to you earlier in the week. I'm not one of them yet, but I'm working my way to it." She watches on as Keith's expression starts to mellow, though the combination of anger and fear is still there.

"This is your job? You have to kill me?"

"Stop repeating after me." She tightens her grip on the weapon and Keith presses his mouth closed. "My boss is downstairs, in the second floor, and he's waiting for me to return. I've been here thirty minutes already, so something's gotta happen soon."

Keith shakes his head rapidly as his erratic breaths return. "Please don't kill me."

Tivoli nods. "I've decided not to, okay? I won't do it, but we've got to think of something."

"Well...couldn't you just let me go and say you killed me? You could take something of mine and show it to him. It could be proof that you did the job."

"My boss is more than a former cop. He's a detective. Your detective skills don't go away once you've been fired from the police force. If he feels something's wrong with the hunt, he'll know about it." She lifts herself off the boy and stands beside the bed, allowing him to sit up. Then she lifts her skirt to replace the knife in its holster. "No...we gotta plan a course of action. If we lucky, maybe he won't come up here."

Once she locks the knife in place, Keith quickly stands up. Before he can go anywhere however, Tivoli is standing right in front of him. "Remember," she says, lowering her voice, "before you try anything funny, I'm still armed and I won't be caught not doing my job. If I need to kill you, I will."

Keith nods quickly. "All right. I get it." He looks at his feet and heaves a few breaths of hopeful relief. He is not going to die after all, but the ocelot's motives are still cloudy. He looks at her suspiciously while she tidies herself, fixing her collar, straightening her blouse, and fixing her brassiere again.

"Follow me," she commands, and marches to the bathroom. The mark obeys immediately, almost stepping fon her heels as he chases her to the room. She is trying very hard to fight her anxiety, to the point that she makes an overly forced angry face. As she fixes her hair at the mirror, Keith sits on the toilet and hangs his head. She takes a peek at him but does not stop what she is doing. "You all right?"

"No, I'm not. I'm supposed to wait for my girlfriend to come and get me and we're supposed to run away to her hometown. I'd leave my parents for good and not have to be tossed around while they finalize their divorce...and I was gonna live with someone who lives in both a ranch and a mansion. This was going to be the best day of my life."

Tivoli shrugs. "Sorry."

"You said you were assigned to kill me. Who assigned you? Who wants me dead? I'm friends with everyone in this city. Who would want to kill me?"

The ocelot stops what she is doing and turns to look at him, keeping her hands on her head. She opens her mouth to answer, then closes it. She knows what the answer is, but does not know how to convey it.

"And that story you just told me? What the hell is that? You belong to some murder club? Do you know how stupid that sounds? I couldn't make up a better lie if I were paid to write it for a Hollywood director. Why should I believe any of that shit?"

Tivoli remains calm and turns back to face the mirror. "Because I killed your dad." The way she says it is easy and smooth, almost cold. She simply says it and returns to straightening the loose strands in her hair

By contrast, Keith stares wide eyed at the ocelot. He tries to stand, but slips and falls on the floor. He shouts out in pain and breathes arduously. "You...killed...."

"Yes. I killed your dad...just last week. He was my second assignment. It didn't go very well, but the job got done. I haven't heard any news reports regarding him, so he's still probably rotting in his old house." Satisfied with her hair, she stops preening and turns to face the boy. "The people I work for are very powerful. He was gonna be killed eventually, by someone else if not me. If you don't believe me, try giving him a call. You'll probably just get his machine."

She walks toward him, intending to help him up, but he quickly stands and backs himself to the nearest wall. Suddenly, he is scared of her again and wants to keep some distance between them. "Dad's dead?"

"We don't have time for you to repeat after me, okay? A hit was ordered on your dad and I killed him. Now let's move on. My boss told me something earlier today that's given me an idea. He said it would be easier to kill you outdoors...and that's where we're going."

Keith shudders as he presses buttons on his smartphone. "Where exactly?"

"Out of here. Anywhere away from the hotel and away from my boss downstairs. We're gonna walk out of here under his nose. We're gonna be calm and level-headed. Remember, I have the weapon, so I have the upper hand. If you're not careful, you'll get it in the ribs." She observes the boy as he fumbles with his device. He puts it to his ear and listens intently. After half a minute of waiting for him, the ocelot scoffs. "No answer, huh?"

"He's...he's never away from his phone. Either Dad answers or one of his assistants does."

"Come on. Grab your things."

"But where are we going?"

"Anywhere. Think of a place, then call your girlfriend and convince her to meet you there, not here. Don't tell her the reason."

"She's not gonna...." Keith puts the phone in his pants pocket and shakes his head morosely. "I can't believe this is happening."

"Will you hurry up? Grab your suitcase!" She leaves the bathroom, again with the boy close behind. He snags the case quickly, suddenly pressured by the thought of saving his own life. He looks around the room while he walks, so he does not notice when the ocelot stops at the doorway.

Tivoli pokes her head through and looks around. "Okay, the coast is clear." He turns to check on Keith just in time for him to bump into her; his head crashes into hers. Embarrassed, the boys bounces back and apologizes. She shakes her head angrily in response. "You don't have to run. We're not being followed." As she rubs her forehead, she walks into the hallway. "All right. We've probably got cameras on us, so just follow me and walk slowly. We don't want to look like we're in a hurry."

The ocelot gives clear instructions and quietly takes command, sounding much like Crevecoeur does. The mark follows her through the hall and to the elevator. He holds his case in both hands, as nervous as he has ever been since meeting her. Soon, they are outside the hotel, having walked past the unwitting front desk employees, and are by Keith's car.

The boy stares at the Cadillac and shrugs hopelessly. "But where are we gonna go?"

"I have an idea. Just do what I say and everything is gonna be all right."