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Part 6: Dark Corners

The original works can be found at Conjoined Dreams. This was posted with permission of the original author Dr. Mercurious.

by Dr. Mercurious

A random thought struck Kayleigh as she recognized the homeless fur, a memory from her rookie days. Her partner at the time had been an old lion, and he'd warned her of becoming haunted.

"Every good cop at some point will find themselves in a situation where they'll get a ghost," he told her.

She didn't understand what he was saying but nodded politely.

He stared into his coffee. "It's a memory of your ultimate failure. Maybe you weren't fast enough or smart enough or even good enough, but it amounts to the same thing; you didn't 'serve and protect'."

The little diner seemed colder all of a sudden. "I hope not," she answered.

"Of course you will," he snapped. "and -- if the poor fur's lucky -- your ghost will be dead."

"What do you mean by that?"

He met her gaze and held it with eyes like windows to Hell. "Pray you don't find out the hard way."

Kayleigh had always wondered what he meant -- up until two years ago when she did indeed find out the hard way. Ever since, she'd wanted and dreaded to see Vicki just one more time. She'd hoped the mink had found another job as a reporter when had she moved back to, but it didn't looked like it. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to startle you," Vicki apologized, stifling her cough. "I look like a mess, don't I?"

You have no idea, the husky wept to herself. The white mink could never know how horrible she looked or -- as Kayleigh had been told -- 'something bad would happen'. Looking at the homeless and mutilated fur, Kayleigh wished she could imagine how much worse it could get, but she knew better. "It's all right," Kayleigh soothed, keeping her voice even with effort. "You didn't startle me; I just thought you had a job waiting for you in LA, that's all."

"I did, but I don't remember what happened to it," wailed Vicki. "I don't remember anything so well these days, and I thought you could tell me what happened. I was someone once..." she began to cry.

Kayleigh rushed to the mink and embraced her. "Hush. I'm here," she soothed.

"Kayleigh?" Raquel questioned.

She glanced back. The tigress wore a puzzled expression on both faces. "Yes?"

"I can't seem to focus on her -- with either pair of eyes."

"I know," she said. Kayleigh quickly glanced back at the mink; she was still clinging to her, face buried, weeping between ragged coughs. "Your two heads is causing problems with the spell that's on her. Count yourself lucky."

"Oh that poor fem," she heard Cyndi whisper. Her head snapped up to focus on the porcupine woman caught like a deer facing an oncoming train.

"You can see how she really looks?" Kayleigh realized aloud.

"How could I miss it?" Cyndi wide eyes were filled with tears. "Who did that to her?"

Most would have looked at Vicki and seen a femfur, still pretty despite being down on her luck. They would be spared the violations of her form; the stitches, the seeping wounds, the bare bones that showed in places. Quickly, Kayleigh made shushing motions. "Not now. Let's take her back to my apartment."

"I'll get the car," Raquel said, sprinting off around the corner.

"Here, let me help," Cyndi offered, getting on the other side of the mink. Despite everything she didn't flinch as she put an arm on Vicki's shoulder. "Hi there! I'm a friend of Kayleigh's," she chirruped. This close, Kayleigh could see the strain on Cyndi's face as she strove to appear cheerful.

Vicki glanced nervously at Kayleigh who nodded. The mink looked back at the porcupine. "Have we met?"

"No," Cyndi said, keeping the smile. "So you don't have to worry about not remembering me, see?"

Vicki returned the smile weakly and began to cough again; Kayleigh held her close offering silent comfort. Neither said anything else while waiting for the car to come around.

---

Kayleigh and Cyndi tiptoed carefully out of Kayleigh's bedroom, gently closing the door behind them. "She's asleep," Cyndi sighed.

"Thanks," Kayleigh smiled. "I can't believe what a good singing voice you have! I didn't recognize the song, though."

The porcupine girl actually blushed. "It was a lullaby I made up when I was little; my Mom often worked late and Dad was never home so I was alone a lot. The song helped me cope."

"It's fantastic! How come you never tried to go pro?"

Cyndi blushed even harder. "I have the worst case of stage fright you ever heard of; get me in front of a crowd and I freeze."

"Who is that mink?" Raquel asked. Her lover leaned against the door frame of the parlor, a concerned look on both faces. The tigress had wanted to come in the room and help, but Kayleigh had decided that too many people would be upsetting.

Kayleigh let out a bitter sigh. "Come on into the parlor, and I'll explain everything. She shouldn't be able to overhear us in there."

"Are you sure we shouldn't take her to the hospital?" Raquel asked as the three fems settled onto the couch.

"The spell on her won't hold up to intense scrutiny, I bet," Cyndi blurted. "She wouldn't live long after that, because some magician would kill her."

"You bet," Kayleigh snapped.

"This has to do with that serial killer who terrorized Providence about two years ago, doesn't it? Vicki's an example of his handiwork."

"Sort of, yeah."

"But how come Raquel can't see those horrible scars and I can?" Cyndi wanted to know. "For that matter, how come you can see them?"

"I don't know why you can, Cyndi," Kayleigh said. "I was told only a trained magician could see the truth, and I could tell if you were one -- but I don't think you'd hide something like that from your friends. As for me, that's a rough story."

"You don't have to tell us," Cyndi insisted. Raquel wordlessly put a protective arm around Kayleigh's shoulders and squeezed.

"I have to," the husky insisted. She shuddered, and Raquel held her tighter. "It's been locked inside me long enough. I need to let it out before it finally breaks me"

---

Two Years Ago

7:45 AM EST

Police Captain Robert Killeough looked bone-weary this morning, as he shuffled up to the podium. Kayleigh doubted the old fox had slept much since this whole mess started. Not a lot of her fellow officers had, herself included.

The squad room had been turned into a place where the battle plans for this bloody conflict were being laid. Pins impaled lurid pictures of things no fur was meant to see on a bulletin board, depicting the tactics of their enemy. A map of Providence dangled from an easel, slashed in two places by the point of a red marker. Papers dotted a long table, discussing plans of attack. No retreat was planed here; the enemy would be, had to be captured, hopefully, sooner rather than later.

At first it looked as if Killeough would stay at the podium, but the silver fox reached inside and withdrew a shiny red marker. Almost against his will, he walked over to the map and stabbed another wound on its skin. A Doberman near Kayleigh swore aloud, and various types of growls could be heard from the gathered policefurs.

"It hasn't quite hit the papers yet," his gravely baritone voice sounded out as he returned to the podium, "but we pulled in another victim early this morning at 6:47 AM with exactly the same M.O. as the first...male this time. Again, evidence has come up with nothing so far -- no tracks leading to or from the body, no prints, and no fibers. We can hope our boy screwed up this time, but right now it's looking as if he was his usual careful self. I spoke with the governor, and he's going to announce a 9 PM curfew for all nonessential personnel until we catch this bastard."

"Nice to see he's taking this seriously," piped a familiar voice from the back of the room. "Of course, three corpses in six days will get anyone's attention." All eyes turned to Vicki Delether -- the crime reporter for the Providence Journal -- as she leaned against the back wall. It was a mark of respect that the white mink had been allowed in the squad room before the planned press conference, a respect earned by doing research for the police department on her own time when they needed it.

Killeough gave her a smile that resembled a wince. "In the meantime, I'm advising the rules of paranoia: never go anywhere without your partner, always call for backup, and don't spare the ammunition."

Several cops sped a nervous look the mink's way, fully aware of captain's implied permission to shoot first and ask questions later. Vicki's expression clearly indicated she hadn't heard a thing. Kayleigh's own glance towards her friend was full of wry amusement. "I still haven't found any records on this guy," the reporter fumed. "You'd figure an elaborate signature like this would have come up before. Not to mention the frequency!" Kayleigh's agreeing nod was echoed by several other cops. Psychos like this guy did not happen overnight.

"In the meantime," Killeough said, drawing all eyes back to him, "we're instituting mandatory overtime. Also, no talking to members of the press unless specifically cleared by me -- we don't want any more of a media circus than we already have."

"Got that right," Vicki quipped. "Damn vultures, all of them." That got an appreciative chuckle from the assemblage, and Kayleigh shook her finger at the mink in mock admonishment.

No reaction broke Killeough's stony expression; he looked like his sense of humor had died a lonely death. "That's it, people. Now get out there and bag that son of a bitch."

Kayleigh leaned over at her partner. "Catch up with you later, okay Kyle?"

The black panther smirked, "You still trying to nail her?"

She blushed, "No."

He laughed, "Meet you at the Honey Farms in thirty. Don't take all day."

She went over to Vicki. "Feel like a cup of coffee?"

"No, but I'll drink one," she giggled. "On me... I know what you cops make after all."

---

"...and the doctor said it's a boy," Vicki finished.

Kayleigh smiled. "Congratulations! Your brother and his wife have been trying to have kids for a while now."

She nodded. "Yeah, but now Mom's getting on my case to have kids."

Kayleigh leaned back in the booth that she and Vicki sat in. The Dunkin' Donuts on the north end of Zucker Street was usually vacant this early in the morning, so a fur didn't have to worry about shouting to be heard. "Well, it's nice to see things are going well with your family." She sighed wistfully.

Vicki winced. "Still persona non grata, huh?"

"Except for my brother Sam and my cousin Mike, yeah. Karen still won't talk to me." She thrust that last bit out with real pain, despite the wounds being a year old.

The mink snorted. "You think she'd be more understanding, with the two of you being twins and all."

Kayleigh shrugged. "Maybe that's the problem. I never seem to have much luck with the women in my life. Speaking of which..."

"No," Vicki gasped. "Lisa dumped you?"

Kayleigh sighed. "Uh huh. She's now going out with a jackal bull-dyke."

"Kayleigh!"

"What? It's true. Lisa told me I wasn't 'embracing my culture' -- whatever the fuck that means -- right before she dumped me. Like I'm trying to hide the fact that I'm a lesbian, or that it's easy 'coming out 'when everyone wants to stuff you back in."

"I'm here for you," Vicki said, smiling at her. "You know that, right?"

She smiled back. "Yeah, I know." Just not the way I'd like, she whined silently. Vicki had a sexy body, soft fur...and was straighter than a board. Her chances of talking Vicki into the sack were about the same as a guy trying to do the same to her. The two had become friends Kayleigh's first year in Providence when she found out the mink's parents lived in the same city as hers; Kayleigh valued their friendship, even though she often wished it could be more.

"Your thirty minutes are almost up," Vicki reminded her, banishing wistful thoughts of what it would be like to see the mink naked. "Better get back to Kyle. From what Killeough said, you and your fellow officers have a long day ahead of you."

---

That Evening

10:42 PM

The radio crackled to life. "Unit 6-41 this is dispatch."

Kayleigh nabbed the radio off its cradle, anticipation twisting her guts in a knot. "6-41 responding. Over."

"Got a report of a DD in your area, 132 Hyatt Street, bottom floor. Please respond."

"We'll take it," Kayleigh said. "Over."

"Roger that. Captain says you two go home after this. Over and out."

Kayleigh hung the radio up. "I suppose we'd better," she sighed to her partner. "It's been, what, sixteen hours?"

"Don't see why we have to; kinda quiet tonight," Kyle mused as he wolfed down his candy bar.

She stole a glance at her partner. "You complaining?"

He finished swallowing. "Hell yeah. Everyone's laying low, afraid they'll be next on the chopping block for this psycho. I'd almost rather furs out causing a ruckus." He shook his head. "I still can't believe what today's Providence Eye called this guy."

Kayleigh snorted. "Tell me about it. 'The Tidy Killer'? The name will probably inspire him."

"You're a real gruesome fem, Kayleigh. Good thing you're out of circulation, or I'd have to use my masculine wiles on you."

"What masculine wiles?"

He snickered at her and flipped the siren on. "You're such a nasty lez."

She flipped him the bird before acceleration slammed her into her seat. Kyle had a lead foot, but he was one of the best drivers in the force. He was also very tolerant of her sexual orientation and had a great sense of humor. Kayleigh felt lucky to have him as a partner.

The dispute between husband and wife was just about over when the two tired cops arrived. The screaming fight was barely audible through the old wooden door, and they answered Kayleigh's knock with trepidation but were suitably subdued. Looks like just an ordinary marriage argument that got out of hand, she thought. That didn't stop her from giving them the standard speech about watching the volume, however. She didn't get to the part about counseling, because the lights went out throughout the whole building including the hallway. "What the...?" Kayleigh heard her partner start to say.

"I don't know." She could just make out the husband's outline. "Have you been having problems with the power lately?"

"No ma'am," he stammered.

A muffled scream knifed through the darkness. Her gun cleared her holster in a heartbeat, and she heard Kyle's do the same. "Sounds like it came from the basement," he remarked in a calm tone.

"I saw the entrance just inside the front door to the building." She turned back to the husband, now apparently frozen in place. "Any other ways out of the basement than that one?"

"Uh...Yeah, but it's boarded up -- the pathway outside needs to be fixed."

"Is it locked?"

"There's a combination lock on the door. All the tenants know it." He rattled it off to her

She blessed him silently for the information. "Get back in your apartment," she told him. "Stay there. Don't answer the door to anything that doesn't show you a badge." She felt the wind of his passage back into his apartment and snuck to where she'd seen the basement door, her keen canine vision enabling her to make out the hallway somewhat.

Kyle was already waiting for her there. "Called for backup," he murmured as she drew close.

"Good idea." Another scream echoed, hoarser this time. "Shit. I'm going in."

"Kayleigh, is that a bright idea?"

"No, but I'm doing it anyway." She looked his way. "You and I both think it's our boy."

"But his victims are dead before they get to the site he leaves them, according to the coroner. Besides, you know he only kills once every other day..."

"Like we knew that all his victims were female? And it doesn't rule out a copycat, either."

There was a pause, and a sigh. "You'd better live through this, or I'll kill you."

She smiled at him even though she knew he couldn't see it. "Will do." She opened the door silently, noting the lock was already open but not busted. She flicked on her flashlight and stepped into the black stairwell. She felt rather than heard Kyle close it behind her and a faint click as he locked it.

No way out now.

Pistol out and flashlight pointing in the same line, she stealthily padded down the stairs. She cast her flashlight about quickly to get a picture of the basement; it was maybe 30 feet long, half that wide and a bit crowded. No one else was visible for the moment, but Kayleigh was taking no chances. Since her vision was no good outside of her flashlight's beam, she stretched her hearing.

"Hh..hh..."

Sounds like it came from the far corner. Kayleigh panned her flashlight around. No one else was visible; someone could have been hiding behind a stack of boxes in a nearby corner, but they'd be really uncomfortable. She kept one eye on it anyway and walked slowly to the other end of the room.

"Hhh...hhll..."

The whisper sounded female. Where are they, she cursed. I should be able to see them from here! She was already at the other end of the room.

Kayleigh panned the flashlight beam down, and almost dropped it.

She'd seen the corpses left by the serial killer in pictures, but never in person. It was something she could have done without. What struck her the most, as the flashlight caressed the corpse, was how neat it was. Everything in a tidy little clump -- very little blood seeped from it. The arms and legs, divorced from their sockets, encircled the body as if embracing it. The intestines were piled on top of the torso and still glistened wetly. As a final touch, the head was placed on the intestinal pile, as if nesting.

She'd been a lovely collie, once.

As the light struck the eyes of the separated head, they rolled up to plead at Kayleigh as it rasped, "Hhllpp...muh..."

An icy fist clenched itself around Kayleigh's heart and from somewhere distant -- her own mouth -- came a terrified howl. The trigger of her pistol called her finger, and she let in answer. Three shots, directly in the center of the forehead. At this range there was no missing.

A sudden snarl from behind snapped her from welcome insanity. She spun, fired, and saw something as it shrieked at the bullet that grazed its arm. A sudden blur and it was at the stairs, going up. The cop in her soul shook her and screamed you're letting him get away! It was all the motivation she needed. Well past civilized voicing, she sprang for the fleeting figure, baying like a dog-animal with her fangs poised to catch its tail. The lunge missed, and it bolted up the stairs, through the locked door like a ghost. It didn't matter to her. She sprang after it -- hearing her partner's shout of surprise, the bark of his pistol, a peculiar half-grunt -- and then she was also at the door, not stopping, also going through it as if it was not there.

Kyle lay on the ground almost directly in front of the door. No, something sane in her declared and she spun right and fired two shots in rapid succession. One hit caused a hiss from her assailant, the other a screech, and then the impossible shape melted into a corner like ice on a hot griddle. It left behind a puddle, glistening wetly in the darkness.

A moan at her feet saved her from running out into the street, baying for her victim. Kyle was bent double, hands clasping stomach. The fur in her returned and she kneeled down.

"He came...right through...the door," Kyle panted in agony. His fingers were dripping as they clutched at his belly.

"It okay, you'll be all right," she muttered by rote. She didn't believe it. Gut wounds were nasty customers.

Neither did he. "...got me good..."

She put her own hand on the wound, desperate to stop his life from seeping out of it. "Don't you give up on me, don't you dare quit you hear?" She was starting to babble. That would do no one any good.

"...coming," he gasped. "Radioed them..."

"I know you did. I'll call for an ambulance." He didn't respond. Her gaze riveted on his chest as it went up and down in its labored way.

Behind her, she became aware of an argument. "I don't care," a woman's voice insisted.

There could be very serious repercussions.

"Oh, and I'm just supposed to let him get away with maining me? I don't think so."

You still shouldn't have run from me.

"Maybe not but if he gets caught it'll be worth going to Hell."

I wouldn't say that too loudly if I were you.

"Whatever. Can I tell her something?"

That is permitted.

"Good. Officer Balto?"

Her head snapped up at hearing her own name. She couldn't bring herself to turn around.

"I'm from down in the basement. I just want to say thank you for putting me out of my misery. This won't be held against you, so don't worry."

Is there more?

"I'm done, thanks."

Good. Please wait over there for me. I need to have my own conversation with Officer Balto.

She wasn't sure who the first speaker was, but she recognized the second instantly. Every cop who ever put his or her life on the line had heard his voice. The tone wasn't greedy or hungry, but patient; the voice of someone who has all the time in the world, because he always wins in the end.

"He got me, didn't he," she murmured at the presence behind her. "That's how I passed through that door without opening it." She still couldn't bring herself to turn around.

No, that had to do with something else, the voice said. You're not dead. Believe me, I'd know.

"What about Kyle?"

I'm not here for him either. I AM here for you, but not for the reason you think.

"I don't understand."

You will. We'll talk more later. The presence behind her was gone, just like that.

A raspy breath beneath her caught her attention, and her numb fingers stabbed her walkie-talkie so she could scream for an ambulance. It kept her from dwelling on the most unsettling image of this horrible night, the good look she had gotten of the serial killer. Up until that point, such features had only existed in parks, on stupid animals that gathered nuts to store for the winter...

---

The Next Night

10:52 PM

Kayleigh remembered the hospital in fragments that made no sense. The agonized moans of Kyle, the calm rush of the medics, Killeough saying something to her.

"That was a stupid move. You could have been killed."

She remembered the press after the hospital, gathered like vultures outside, asking questions like murmurs on the tide. What did he look like? How tall? What was the weapon? Dozens of them streaming by. She wished she had answers that didn't sound crazy.

"We wouldn't have a DNA sample without you, Officer Balto."

She still had her badge and gun though. She knew because she had a hand clenched around each, especially the gun.

"Good job, Kayleigh."

She remembered the ride back to her apartment, vividly. Vicki was the one to drive her home. She spent her time staring out the window, seeing her partner's face contorted in pain.

"Enough. She's in shock. Let her go home to familiar surroundings."

She remembered Vicki guiding her up to her apartment, unlocking her door, taking her in, and undressing her, and the kiss goodnight. Especially the kiss, because it wasn't the kind of kiss straight women gave gay ones.

"God help me, I think I love you Kayleigh. Please be all right."

Reality snapped into focus. Kayleigh sat straight up in her own bed. She'd stripped -- or been stripped, she wasn't sure -- down to her panties and bra. Her gun was right next to her on her night stand, and her badge was propped up against it, gleaming. She patted them fondly before getting out of bed, feeling much better. She hoped she hadn't imagined Vicki's kiss. I think she's still around here, Kayleigh thought. I don't recall her leaving. Then again, I don't recall much about the last -- she checked her alarm clock -- twenty-one hours? That was a long time to be in shock. Now she was angry at herself as she stomped form the bedroom into her parlor. You'd think -- that someone would cut herself a little slack for a normal reaction, considering what that someone had just gone through.

She stiffened up and didn't turn around. "Hello." She refused to let her voice quaver.

Officer Balto, the voice returned politely.

"I take it this qualifies as later." A poor attempt at humor, but it beat screaming. She remained where she was, a living statue.

We're under a bit of time pressure, he apologized.

"Look..er...."

Call me Jack.

"Okay, Jack." Somehow, such a mundane name helped her relax a trifle, although still not enough to turn around. "I'm ready."

Are you?

She knew a test when she heard one. Taking a deep breath, she turned around. "Yes."

Kayleigh burst out laughing at the sight of him leaning against the wall. She couldn't help it; Jack was a rabbit. He was old, somewhat threadbare and creepy-looking with a scythe, but a rabbit nonetheless. She laughed so hard her stomach ached.

Feel better? He sounded amused.

"Yes, I do." she straightened up. "Now that the urge to giggle myself into an ulcer is gone...how? I mean, squirrels and rabbits are just animals, not furs!"

That's true of here. Your killer is from somewhere else.

"So you're not the real Grim Reaper?"

He stood straighter and put a casual hand on his scythe. Would you like to know?

Kayleigh sensed this was an important question and thought very hard before answering. "I don't think I'm ready for that information."

Wise choice.

"So how did he get here?"

She could feel the sudden anger radiate off him Even though it was not directed at her, she shuddered. He had help from an outside agency.

"Is he dead -- or, rather, undead?"

No, which is a pity; there'd be a lot more ways I could interfere, Jack sighed. As it stands, had he remained back home, I wouldn't have been allowed to go even this far. Fortunately, certain... restrictions...are looser here. He gestured to the couch. Please sit. Even the abbreviated version will take a bit of explaining.

Kayleigh sat on the couch. Another giggle almost escaped her at the thought of having The Grim Reaper at her apartment and engaging him in conversation. She stopped it before it could escape, recognizing it as a laugh that might never stop, even when they came and took her away. She settled for a weak smile. "Okay, sure."

He gave her an approving nod, as if she'd passed another test. The person you hunt has traded certain favors to the powers of Hell for some magical knowledge; the ability to walk through solid matter in low light or darkness, to divide flesh without killing his victim, and to gain energy from suffering.

"Wait a minute; are you trying to tell me the corpse I shot was alive?"

As were his previous victims; what killed them was the knowledge of what had been done of them -- they died of shock. The collie's death last night made him very angry, since she possessed the strength of will to survive the knowledge of her reduced state. He would have gotten a good deal of energy from that.

Kayleigh frowned. "Is there a goal behind this, or is he just psychotic?"

He hopes to once again gain the favors of Hell to acquire more magical knowledge. To do so will require a good deal of power, and he has a limited amount of time to gather it.

"Why aren't the magicians from wherever he is trying to stop him?"

There aren't that many of them and they are weak besides -- unlike the ones here.

Kayleigh straightened on the couch. "What are we waiting for? Let's contact them!"

Jack shook his head. They'll only interfere enough to keep the secret of magic's existence. So far everything that has occurred possesses a rational explanation.

"What about my official statement?"

The ramblings of a policefur in shock; at least, that's how it will look. Honestly, would YOU believe you?

She grimaced. "I suppose not."

Indeed.

"But why did you pick me?"

Because I cannot take direct action. Time is running out, and you were available.

"That doesn't sound very heroic to me."

Sometimes being a hero means being in the right place at the right time.

Realization struck her hard. "That isn't quite right." She looked at Jack, her mouth dry. "When I...shot...his victim, he didn't take the time to run away; he tried to get me first." Jack said nothing as she pressed her point home. "He's coming after me next."

Jack nodded. That's my theory as well.

For some reason, this didn't upset her as much as she thought it should. A psychopath who could walk through walls under the right conditions was after her, and if she lost she would be lucky if she was merely dead -- but now she knew where he was going to strike next. That made all the difference. "What help can you give me?"

I can save your life -- once; I will take his soul from this place and insure it will not come back or be reborn. Also, I will give you a weapon.

"A weapon?" Her mind boggled; what kind of weapon could the Grim Reaper give her? She decided she didn't want to know. "I don't think I should accept it."

You fear what it can do, and you are wise. He strode over to her and placed his hand on the coffee table in front of her couch. There was no smoke, no pretty lights, just first there was nothing there and then when he took his hand away an old-fashioned .38 revolver.

Damnable curiosity got the better of her. Kayleigh picked the gun up. It fit perfectly in her hand, and its balance would make an NRA enthusiast weep. She pulled the release lever and shook the frame out to check the ammunition in the cylinder. Six ominously normal bullets gleamed at her. "I'll admit it's pretty," she said as she slammed the cylinder back.

All you must do is hit your chosen target with a shot and it will die, Jack told her. No defense will be sufficient to protect.

She gaped and held it like a live snake. "I hope you'll take this with you when you leave!"

No. That is part of your reward.

"Rewards like this I can do without."

Which is why it will be safest with you.

"So what happens now?"

I must...I suppose 'remain hidden' is the best way to describe what I will be doing. It will prevent him from sensing my presence when he draws near.

"I suppose that makes sense," she said. Then she remembered her well-meaning nursemaid. "Omigod! Has Vicki heard any of this?"

No. She's in your spare room, asleep. She was feeling abruptly tired for some reason.

"I see."

I'll be in touch. He winked out of view quicker than an extinguishing candle flame.

Kayleigh tiptoed into her spare room where she stored camping gear, old board games, and other bric-a-brac that had no place anywhere else. Vicki had curled up into a ball and was peacefully dozing away on a hastily-unrolled sleeping bag. She looked so adorable Kayleigh decided not to wake her but just as the husky turned to leave she heard a yawn come from the ball. "Good morning," she told it cheerfully. "Or whatever."

Vicki sat up and blinked. "Kayleigh!" She said after a moment's pause. Kayleigh tried to say something witty in return but the white mink gave her no chance, leaping at her and wrapping her in a warm embrace. "Thank God you're okay!"

"I think 'better' describes how I'm feeling right now," she murmured, returning Vicki's embrace. "I think 'okay' is still a ways off."

Vicki began to laugh, but it was a hard sound, and it dissolved into tears quickly. Kayleigh, alarmed, tried to say something but was interrupted by Vicki placing a finger on her muzzle. "Don't talk, just listen," Vicki sniffled. "When I saw you like that, after they took your partner away in an ambulance, I couldn't breathe. It was like someone had clenched a fist around my heart and wouldn't let go." Her blue eyes bored into Kayleigh's own. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't recovered."

She didn't say anything in response. There was nothing really to say. She just stood there, holding Vicki, enjoying the feel of the mink's body in her embrace. She cupped Vicki's face in her hands and kissed her tenderly; the mink returned it with as much tenderness. After Kayleigh broke the kiss she asked, "How long?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "I still like guys --that I'm sure of -- but I can't recall thinking of another woman in that way until I saw you in shock. I was so worried that I'd never get the chance to hold you, or kiss you, or tell you how I feel..."

Kayleigh shut her up by kissing her again. "You don't have to make any promises, Vicki."

"I know." Vicki's hands flew to her blouse. "That's why I'm not going to promise. I'm just going to do." She began to slowly unbutton it with trembling fingers.

Kayleigh made a halfhearted effort to stop her. "Vicki..." The look in the mink's eyes stopped her cold. Fear was there, but so was lust...and love as well.

"Yes?" It wasn't a question.

Kayleigh surrendered to the inevitable. "Here, let me help you with that."