It began with a song, as it always did.

 

            Her voice was both sultry and angelic, an ethereal, harmonious blend of notes that wove its spell around every man within hearing distance.  She was as smooth as Elven wine, and infinitely more intoxicating.  The doors and windows remained open, letting her dulcet melodies waft through the streets and back alleys, serenading passers-by and calling to the unfettered souls of Magdalene's would-be customers.

 

            She knew many of them by name.  The ones who came every night: to see her, to hear her, perhaps even to touch her.  They formed a diverse congregation of patrons.  Humans, goblins, elves, vampires.  Politicians, businessmen, hoods from the street.  Standing room only.  She was an equal opportunity whore.

 

            This was her venue.  This was her stage.  This was her fabled Mhalasia.  Far above any low rent watering pit or smoke-ridden hole in the wall, Magdalene's was as high-class as any in her profession could hope to find.  From the outside, it was no more impressive than any other building this side of Goblin Hill.  It was a four-story brownstone that looked almost respectable in the midst of Big City's red-light district.  The first floor was divided into five main rooms, but she didn't worry about the others.   After all, she never lacked for company.  Indeed, it was always the other girls who would begin to trickle into her domain, laying their charms -- and their claims -- on those they considered to be the pick of the litter.

 

            She didn't mind.  There was always one or two prime specimens left for her choosing.  A few of her favorites stalwartly refused the others' advances.  For such shows of loyalty, she rewarded them greatly.

 

            He had made just such a show earlier in the evening.  After her performance ended, she'd led him up the velvet-clad formal staircase, down a darkened hallway, their procession marked only by a few stolen kisses and passion-inspired declarations of love.  It was a journey they'd taken together many times, she and the reserved doctor.  If only his patients and colleagues knew just how unreserved he could be, behind closed doors.  He'd shock them right out of their skins.

 

            But he would never get the chance.  This she knew with an utter certainty.  As she opened the door for him to leave, her kiss lingered longer than it ever had before.

 

            "I'll see you tomorrow night, doll."

 

            But he wouldn't.  The door clicked shut with a sense of finality, and Kalista Danae -- Kali, to her clients and friends -- fished her cell phone out of her dresser drawer and dialed the number she knew she was meant to call.  After all, the good doctor hadn't been the only one she'd seen in her premonition.

 

            The other end of the line was answered after the third ring, and a harried female voice told her she'd reached the right place.

 

            "Sergeant Forray," Kali requested without preamble.  "I need to report a murder."

 

Big City

Ambsace

by TooWickedToLove

 

            "This is bullshit!"

 

            Stack Fury regarded his partner steadily, his fingers moving with a mind of their own as he absently toyed with the objects that littered his desk.  A chain of paperclips hung from the tip of a box of staples that hinged precariously on an upside-down Java Jalopy cup which was balanced on the axles of three black pens.

 

            "Don't tell me you actually put stock in this premonition business.  You want a prediction?  I'll give you one.  At seven o'clock tomorrow morning, when we're tagging and bagging another one, I'll be telling you, 'I told you so.'  So what we need to be doing is tracking down your so-called source and arresting her ass before this murder can happen."  Needless Action hadn't garnered his moniker by sitting around on his laurels and waiting for the stuff to hit the fan.  Unfortunately, that seemed to be Stack's big plan of action.

 

            "I've got the boys downstairs working on a trace.  Besides, we've got a deadline - "

 

            "Yeah.  Just about eight hours.  Who's to say the lucky bastard isn't dead already?  We haven't been able to locate him."

 

            "I don't think she's involved," Stack told him, recalling the woman's lilting words as she described, in detail, the murder that would go down tomorrow morning.

 

            "Not involved.  The woman calls up, asks for you specifically, gives you the who, what, when and where…and you don't think she's involved?"

 

            "There was just something…in her voice."

 

            "Her voice," Needless echoed, expecting his partner to crack a smile at any moment and admit that he was only pulling his leg.  But he didn't.  Stack simply stared up at him with the same glazed-over look he'd had since the call had come.  "Her voice," he said again, as if that would make it make any more sense.  "Guess she gives good aural."

 

            The joke was lost on Stack.  He simply remained seated, his gaze focused on his creation before him.  Even as his hands moved with steady assurance, the gears in his mind turned at an alarming rate.  He knew he should be doing something.  He knew Needless was right.  They should be following a lead, whatever it was.  They should be checking out Dr. Hahn's office, his home.  They should be interrogating the people he worked with, his friends, his family.  They should be doing something, anything but sitting around and waiting.

 

            But he couldn't bring himself to do it.  There was something about the woman's words, despite their graphic nature, that reassured him even in hindsight.  She spoke with a calm certainty, an acceptance, as if no matter what they did, they could not change the outcome.  The man's fate had been sealed.  So why, then, had she called?  What was it she expected to accomplish by sharing her predictions?  And why had she asked for him specifically?

 

            "What if it's Pasketti?" Needless asked, reading Stack's secret train of thought.  "Come on, it wouldn't be the first time he had someone do his dirty work for him."

 

            "If he has anything to do with this then it's a set-up anyway.  There's no hope for that doctor."

 

            "Maybe not, but it's not our job to give up hope.  It's our job to find him before someone else has the chance to snuff him out."

 

            "I thought you didn't believe in this prediction business."

 

            "I believe in murder."

 

            Stack nodded, the mention of Manzetti breaking through the haze that had seemed to infiltrate his mind.  "Let's roll."

 

Seven hours, thirty-two minutes and counting….

 

*

            When the call came, Smiles Johnson was halfway through the Flats with a pack of rabid wolves snapping at his heels.  He was breathless, felt like he'd been running the Big City marathon, but there was both rhyme and reason to his actions.

 

            He had to catch her.

 

            Who?  Now, that he didn't know.  The clarity only came now and then.  He had to catch her, find her.  Every now and then, there was a shimmering flash, the light bouncing off of her hair, showing him in which direction to turn next.  But she was elusive, always just beyond his grasp.

 

            The wolves were gaining on him, and there was a heaviness in his limbs that told him he couldn't go on for much longer.  Already he was beginning to slow down, and he could feel the angry, hot snorts of breath scalding the skin on the backs of his legs.

 

            The ringing called to him, causing him to stumble, and he woke with a start as the first wolf jumped onto his back, its claws ripping deep into his flesh.

 

            Smiles gulped down a calming breath, reaching with a shaky hand to turn on his bedside lamp.  He peered at the alarm clock on his nightstand and groaned, rubbing his free hand over his face.  The shrill, incessant sound stopped as he lifted the receiver from its cradle.  "This better be good."

 

            The only sound on the other end of the line was the thick, snarling sound of an animal's panting -- much too reminiscent of his dream for his liking.  "Hello?"

 

            There was a click, then another, and for a second, Smiles thought the line had gone dead.  And then he heard her, a voice that was vaguely familiar despite the fact that it seemed a million miles away.

 

            "In the darkness, no one can hear you scream."

 

*

 

            Charlie couldn't immediately say what it was that caused his eyes to fly open and his heart to race within his chest.  One moment he'd been sound asleep and the next, he was suddenly, apprehensively, wide-awake.  Then it came again, increasing in volume.  A shuffling of sorts, barely above a whisper.  In the haze of his sleep-ridden mind, he could almost have written it off as his imagination, or perhaps the breeze from his ceiling fan blowing a few wayward papers from his desk.  But he knew that wasn't it.  The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention, signaling danger.  Like a silent alarm, one thought repeated itself over and over inside his head, to the exclusion of all others: Intruder!

 

            "Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty."

 

            The lights in his bedroom flickered on, and Charlie instinctively flung an arm over his eyes.  He wasn't fast enough, their images burned into his mind's eye, but even if he hadn't seen them, the voice was unmistakable.

 

            Needless and Stack stood in the doorway of Charlie's bedroom, watching as his arm lowered and he hurled his pillow in their direction.  Needless chuckled, easily sidestepping the down-filled missile.  "Not a morning person, I'm guessing."

 

            Charlie hazarded a look at the watch he'd laid on his bedside table.  "It's one-thirty in the morning.  What the hell are you doing here?"  For once, he was glad Laura hadn't stayed the night, although she'd probably regret not being in the thick of things.  And from Needless's and Stack's appearances, this was going to be pretty thick.

 

            "Need your help," Stack said, unceremoniously brushing aside a pile of clothes as he sat down in an armchair to the left of the bed.  "Tried to reach Smiles, but his line was busy."

 

            "What's up?"

 

            "Murder."  The word hung in the air as Needless tossed the pillow back onto the bed, followed by a discarded pair of pants.  He flung them towards Charlie and motioned for him to get dressed.

 

            "Who?"

 

            "No one," Stack told him, a glance from Needless pushing him to add a terse, "yet."

 

            "I don't get it," Charlie said, pulling on his pants and lifting a shirt from the pile.  He gave it a sniff, shrugged and pulled it on over his head.  "If no one's dead, how can there be a murder?"

 

            "There's going to be a murder, if we can't find our victim."

 

            Charlie shook his head, his gaze traveling back and forth between the cops.  "Okay.  So are we searching for a particular victim, or will just anyone do?"

 

            "Do you wanna take this, or should I?" Needless asked Stack.

 

            "Got a call about two and a half hours ago.  It was a woman.  Seemed to know a lot about a murder going down at seven this morning."

 

            "And when he says a lot, he means a lot," Needless clarified.  "As in who, where, and how."

 

            "They're really making it easy for you guys these days, huh?" Charlie laughed.  But it wasn't a laughing matter.  "How about a why?" he asked, leading the detectives out of his bedroom and into the living room.  "And have you found this woman for questioning?"

 

            "That's what we need you and Smiles for.  While we're trying to track down our dead man walking, we were thinking maybe you two could get a trace on the canary.  Tried to track her down by her call, but she made it from a cell.  A burn-out.  No digits.  The best the boys were able to come up with was the vicinity in which the call was made.  Thought you might be able to put out some feelers, maybe see if our vic was making the rounds last evening."

 

            "Shouldn't be too hard.  I'll call Smiles on my way out and tell him to meet me.  So where am I headed?"

 

            "You're gonna love this one," Needless grinned, pulling out the map he'd stuffed in his back pocket.  There, circled in bright neon yellow, was the target area.  "Looks like you'll be enjoying a little red light special."

 

 

*

 

            "What have you done?"

 

            Kalista lifted her gaze to the reflection in her vanity mirror, not surprised by Magdalene's appearance.  She was an imposing woman of about middling height, hinting at an Elven lineage somewhere down her line.  But the delicate features and pointed beauty of the race were lost beneath massive folds of flesh.  Magdalene was just about as wide as she was tall, and while tales around the bordello told that she'd once been the most sought after of women, the tides of time had certainly changed.

 

            She stood in the doorway of Kalista's boudoir, her green eyes snapping furiously and her red hair standing out straight, as if she'd been hit with a jolt of electricity.  "You silly girl.  Do you think you can change destiny?  Do you think you have that much power?  If that was the case, you wouldn't need to lie flat on your back every night, now would you?"

 

            "I'm not trying to change anything," Kalista denied, lifting a silver handled brush and running it through her hair.  She watched the way the strands fell gracefully back into place, the dim light of the room casting a glimmering halo around her heart-shaped face.

 

            Magdalene stalked across the room, flinging open a dresser drawer and pulling out the cell phone hidden within.  "Then what do you call this?"  She twisted it in her large, meaty hands, the plastic and electronics crumpling beneath her tight grasp.  Walking forward, she dropped it into the wastebasket at the corner of Kalista's vanity and settled her hands on the girl's shoulders with an infinitely more gentle touch.  There was no use in marring her best girl.  "I'm watching you, Kali.  Always watching you.  What did you think you were doing?  Did you think one of those detectives was gonna come down here and sweep you off your feet?  That all you'd have to do is open your pretty little mouth, and he'd be your ticket out of here?  Well, I've got news for you."  Her grip tightened ever so slightly, just enough to emphasize her words.  "This is where you belong, Kali.  This is your destiny.  Besides.  You enjoy it too much to walk away now.  You have dozens of men at your feet every night.  You can't tell me that doesn't feel good."

 

            "You know nothing about my destiny.  If I wanted to leave, I'd walk out of the door.  And you couldn't stop me."

 

            Magdalene's fingers tangled in her siren's hair, pulling until she thought she saw tears in Kalista's eyes.  And then she laughed.  To Kalista's sensitive ears it was an ugly sound, a cacophony of whistling wheezes and harsh, jagged guffaws.  "Stop you?" Magdalene echoed, her voice suddenly silky smooth.  "Why, I would never harm a pretty little hair on your pretty little head."  That seemed to amuse her even more, but she at least loosened her hold and extracted her fingers from the shimmering mass of strands.

 

            "You want to know about destiny?" Kalista spat, whirling around in her chair, her eyes a blazing myriad of colors.  "I see nothing but death and destruction around you.  Would you like to know how it ends?  I could tell you.  How you scream in agony.  How it eats your flesh.  How - "  Her words were halted as one of Magdalene's huge hands struck the side of her face with a cracking blow.

 

            "You little bitch," Magdalene hissed.  "If even one of Big City's finest comes sniffing around here, you'll be the one to pay for it."

 

            The slamming of the door reverberated through the room and Kalista held the throbbing side of her face in her palm.  Mere minutes after Magdalene's exit, there was a soft knock on the door.  Unbidden, Laianna, the Elven girl who inhabited the room adjoining her own, entered the room with a cool compress and a mug of steaming liquid that reeked of herbs and spices.  Before Kalista could offer thanks, she was gone again, and Kalista turned back to her mirror.  No doubt she'd be "paying for it" for a while, because there was no way those detectives weren't going to show up.  Not after what they were about to witness.

 

 

*

 

            Needless shook off the drowsiness that seeped into his body, rolling his shoulders back to release the tension.  Their search had proved fruitless, and it had been damned hard trying to explain to the doctor's wife why her husband wasn't working his shift at the hospital and why they were searching for him in the first place.  He tossed a coffee cup -- his sixth -- into the backseat of the car and stifled a yawn and a stretch.

           

The clock on the dash read 6:49.  Eleven minutes.  Not a wink of sleep in the last twenty-six hours, and it all came down to these ten minutes.  Needless could already feel the adrenaline pumping in his veins.  It was like a high, and after it was over, he knew he'd suffer the withdrawal.  He glanced at Stack from the corner of his eye, but his partner seemed deep in thought.  How could he tell?  The first clue would probably have been the tower of coffee cups and cassette tapes piled precariously atop the thermos from which they'd been drinking.  From the looks of things, it would soon rival Big City's tallest building.

 

            6:50.  His gaze scanned the street in front of them.  They were parked unobtrusively in the alley between Big City First National Bank and T'yal's Flora and Fauna.  Across the street rose the hulking gothic-revival structure known as the Grand Mhalasia -- a twenty-story hotel and resort that catered to the rich and famous residing within the Big City city limits.  That was their target.

 

            At 6:55 the radio crackled to life and the wavering voice of the dispatch operator gurgled through the static.  "We have a B-and-E in progress at Fifth and Gardenia.  Shots fired.  Backup requested."

 

            Stack and Needless exchanged a glance.  The intersection was a mere six blocks from where they were staked out.  A quick flash of headlights from across the street caught Stack's attention and he lifted the radio, switching the frequency.  "You get that, Marcos?"

 

            The line was overcome by static before they heard the reply.  "Yeah.  Want we should take it?"

 

            Stack looked to Needless.  Breen had only allowed them two other squad cars, figuring that if anything actually did happen they'd be able to take care of the situation.  But now it looked like they were about to lose their own backup.  "Go.  Noraith and Pearson, you back out and follow down Fourth.  No use raising suspicions with a bunch of cop cars rolling out of the woodwork."

 

            "Copy."

 

            6:57.  Needless tapped his fingers anxiously against the steering wheel.  It came as a bit of a surprise how much he wanted this.  Wanted it so badly he could taste it.  In the days following Autumn and the resurfacing of Manzetti, he'd tried to forget.  He'd tried to put it behind him, to focus on something else.  Something other than the job and the tortures he'd suffered because of it.  If he'd been a lesser man, he might have thrown in the towel.  But he wasn't a lesser man.  A few days off, a cruise, and a woman he could lose himself in…that's what it took to bring the fire back.  And right now, that fire was blazing, hungry for action, for a target.

 

            6:58.  He glanced at Stack who sat watching the street with an intensity that seemed to test whether or not he could prevent a murder through the sheer power of his will.  The cups had long since toppled with the first buzz of the radio, and Stack had reverted to the simple shuffling of the coins in his pocket.  The air inside the car was thick with anticipation.  So thick, it was almost hard to breathe.

 

            At 6:59, the sharp squeal of speeding tires broke through the silence they hadn't known inhabited their cramped space.  Time seemed to span on forever as the front end of a shiny black van broke through their peripheral.  Instinct told Needless to turn the key in the ignition and the squad car's engine revved to life.  At exactly seven o'clock, the black van screeched to a halt in front of the Grand Mhalasia.  Whereas time had seemed to stand still a few seconds ago, it seemed to fly once the back doors of the van were flung open and a man was pushed out into the street.  Even as Needless's foot slammed on the accelerator, the man landed on his knees and was instantly shot execution-style: once in the back of his head -- exactly as the woman had described.

 

            Almost before the deed was done, the black van was speeding away.  Needless was torn between wanting to follow immediately and knowing he had to stop.  Stack solved the dilemma.  "Let me out and you follow that guy.  Don't let him get away.  He may be our only lead."

 

            Needless barely slowed as Stack jumped out, his hand jerking the radio from its holster as he wove through the lanes of traffic, speeding to catch up to the van.  He called in the shooting and tossed the unnecessary equipment from his hand, rummaging through the stack of tapes still scattered on the passenger seat.  He found the one he wanted, popped it into the tape deck and twisted the volume to max as the rough-and-tumble edgy beats blasted from his car speakers.  Despite the cold-blooded murder he'd just witnessed, he had to give a giddy laugh, the adrenaline exhilarating his senses.  Now this was the action he'd been waiting for.  "That's right!" he shouted to no one in particular, "Run, you damned bastard.  Run as fast as you can.  'Cause when I catch you, I'm gonna enjoy a truly impressive kicking of your ass!"

 

            The driver of the van obviously knew he was being followed.  He swerved left and right, trying to shake Needless, but the detective persisted.  They ran through red lights, past stop signs, veering sharply down a garbage-infested alley.  Needless recognized the scenery.  They were circling the heart of Big City.

 

            The van broke through the end of the alley and over his ear-numbing music, Needless heard the screams before he ever saw anything.  Slamming on the breaks, he was thrown forward, his momentum stopped only by his seatbelt.  Once again, time seemed to slow as the car came to a shuddering halt.  And even when he was certain that the world had stopped spinning, he was slow to look up.

 

            When he did, he was met by the stunned, doe-eyed gazes of a dozen school children.  He was fairly certain one or two of them had pissed in their pants.  Hell, he wasn't so sure he hadn't.

 

            Needless sucked down a calming breath, his adrenaline rush gone.  All he was left with was a deadened, empty feeling, blaring music…and no arrest.  He hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand, bellowing a frustrated curse.  Pushing open the driver's side door, he unbuckled his seatbelt, feeling the soreness across his torso.  When he glanced over his shoulder, he was surprised to see Charlie leaning against the hood of his own car.

 

            "Been following you for the past four blocks.  Wondered if you might be self-imploding in there."

 

            "I'd suggest you carefully consider your next words, because if they're not good news, you should probably get back in that car and leave.  Now."

 

            "As luck would have it, I do happen to have some good news.  A possible lead on your prophet."  Charlie stepped forward and handed over a piece of paper with an address and a name printed neatly on it.  "Seems the doctor in question had a fondness for the nightlife.  One woman in particular."

 

            "Magdalene's, huh?"  Needless folded the slip of paper and stuffed it into his back pocket.  "Thanks."

 

            "Don't mention it.  You guys get a positive I.D. on the victim?"

 

            "Not yet.  But I'm sure Stack is working on it.  For now, I have a woman to see about a murder."

 

 

*

 

            "Dr. Joseph Hahn, age: forty-two, height: five feet-eleven inches, weight: one hundred and eighty-five pounds."  Sioux looked across the gurney to Stack.  "The cause of death seems self-explanatory.  A shot to the back of the head, standard semiautomatic nine millimeter.  Premium load for the caliber, although at the range the shot was fired, it seems like an unnecessary precaution.  Someone really wanted the man dead."

 

            "Nothing unusual?  Any marks to suggest he was beaten or that he fought with his captors?" Stack asked.

 

            Sioux shook her head, the move slow and almost hypnotic.  "None.  Other than a fatal wound, Dr. Hahn was in perfect condition."  She pulled the sheet up and over the doctor's face.  After the detective left, she would continue the autopsy.

 

            "It doesn't make any sense.  If you were kidnapped and knew your death to be imminent, wouldn't you try to escape, to stall, to do…something?"

 

            "Dr. Hahn was a pacifist."

 

            Stack's sudden interest was almost comical.  "You knew him?"

 

            "I knew of him," Sioux corrected.  "He was a highly respected member of his field.  His colleagues spoke very well of him."

 

            "And his field was?"

 

            "Oncology.  He was the director of one of the foremost cancer research labs in the world.  They've been making new discoveries with leaps and bounds.  No cures yet, but if anyone had a chance of developing one, it was Joseph Hahn."

 

            "On the surface, no enemies.  A beloved doctor and humanitarian."  Stack slipped his hands into his pockets, his fingers sifting through the coins within.  "But just one jealous colleague or relative of a person Dr. Hahn wasn't able to save…."  He rocked back on his heels, falling silent as he continued to consider the possibilities.

 

            "I assume no ransom was demanded?"

 

            "None.  No contact at all."

 

            "Perhaps you'll get more insight from Forensics.  In the mean time, I'll let you know if there are any new developments after I finish with the doctor."

 

            "Thank you, Sioux."  As he turned to leave, Stack paused and looked back over his shoulder to where the Medical Examiner was already neatly divesting the body of its shroud.  "I hear you and Needless had a good time on your cruise?"

 

            She merely smiled, waving him away with a delicate gesture.  At least one of them was finally finding some happiness, Stack figured.

 

 

*

 

            The pounding at the door interrupted breakfast.

 

            Lowering her glass of orange juice to the gleaming top of the polished oak dining table, Magdalene rose stiffly from her chair and pulled her robe tightly around her wide middle.  The girls were asleep upstairs after a long night of carousing, and she didn't expect them to bless her with their presences until at least the middle of the afternoon.

 

            If the troublemaker raising all that racket didn't wake them, that was.  Wrenching open the front door of the club, she stared imperiously up at the man on the other side of the threshold.   "May I help you?"

 

            "I'm Detective John D'yen - "  Before he could even finish the introduction, Magdalene was closing the door in his face.  However, a well-muscled arm halted her actions.  "As I was saying," Needless continued, "I'm Detective John D'yen.  I'm here - "

 

            "I know why you're here," Magdalene growled.  "That silly girl.  You have no business here."

 

            "I'm afraid I do," Needless contradicted.

 

            Magdalene's eyes narrowed, practically disappearing within the wrinkles on her face.  "In that case, Detective, I'll need to see a warrant."  The scant hesitation in his face was all she needed and she cackled gleefully.  "Ah, no warrant?  Then I'm afraid you have no business after all."

 

            "I just need to talk to one of your girls."

 

            "Come back after dusk.  I'm sure we can arrange…something…then," she assured him with a lascivious grin.

 

            Needless clenched his jaw.  "I'm not leaving until I speak with this girl.  She has information about a murder."

 

            Magdalene's expression clouded, darkened, then shuttered.  "Allow me to introduce you to security."  With a snap of her fingers, two tall, excessively muscled men appeared at her sides.

 

            "Allow me to introduce you to Penny," Needless ground out between clenched teeth, reaching for his Really Big Gun.

 

"I'll speak to him."

 

            The softly spoken words instantly drew attention from all four people crowded in the doorway.  "Get upstairs!" Magdalene ordered, but the slim girl didn't move an inch.  "He's not going to leave, so the sooner I speak with him, the sooner he'll go," the girl pointed out to the madam.  Magdalene practically stomped her foot with impotent fury.  "Fifteen minutes!"

 

            The goons followed their mistress back towards her dining room, leaving Needless staring up at the girl still hovering on the stairs.  She was young, but he couldn't readily pinpoint her age, and the diaphanous white dressing gown she wore did everything to emphasize her more womanly assets.  Her skin was flawless -- a smooth, tawny golden that looked as if every inch had been kissed by the sun.  Her hair fell around her dainty heart-shaped face in wild disarray that looked as if hours had been spent to achieve the perfect mix of careless beauty and wanton disregard.  And after all of it, it wasn't the style that was so intriguing, but the color.  The wild mass was dark, nearly black, but interwoven with vivid copper and gold strands that created a fiery halo around her as the light shone from behind her.

 

            "We're not alone," she told him as she took the last few steps down.  As she got closer, Needless found himself drawn to her eyes.  They were blue, but that seemed too simple a description.  Her irises were a bright aquamarine, ringed in navy, and when she moved, her eyes seemed to subtly shift in color, deepening, darkening, like the boundless depths of the sea that washed Big City's shores.

 

            It wasn't until her hand grasped his and she pulled him inside that Needless snapped out of his haze.  Closing the door behind himself, he looked down at her questioningly.  There was an innocence about her, as if she was above her surroundings and the business in which she worked.  He could not imagine her plotting out a detailed murder, but stranger things had happened.  He'd learned not to underestimate anyone.  "Kalista Danae?"

 

            She nodded and led him into her showroom.  It was empty now, the windows shut and cloaked, refusing the sunlight entrance.  The stage was darkened and the velvet lined chairs stood stacked against the walls.  "Detective D'yen, I presume.  I've been expecting you."

 

            "What?  Did you predict that I would come?" he snorted.

 

            She leveled her transient gaze at him.  "Actually, I thought it was a logical deduction.  There was a murder.  I had information.  I figured the police would want to speak to me.  And you sound nothing like your partner."

 

            That seemed to throw him for a momentary spin.  But Needless recovered quickly.  "Let's get right to the point, Miss Danae.  How did you know about the murder?"

 

            "I saw it," Kalista told him simply.

 

            "You…saw it.  Okay.  I have to be honest, I don't believe in these psychic premonitions and fortune-telling deals.  I'm into hard facts.  Evidence.  I find it hard to believe that this information just fell out of the sky and into your lap.  And if you knew it was going to happen, why didn't you try harder to stop it?"

 

            "It doesn't work like that."  Kalista moved away from him to sit on the edge of the stage platform.  "The process relies on intimacy.  Sometimes what I see is…cloudy.  And sometimes it's as clear as if I'm experiencing it myself."

 

            "You still haven't explained anything, Miss Danae," Needless informed her, coming to stand directly in front of her.  "And you still haven't answered my question.  If you had the information, why didn't you try to save Dr. Hahn?"

 

            She had to tilt her head back in order to look up at him.  "Please, call me Kali.  Everyone does.  And I did try to save him.  I called the police, didn't I?"

 

            "If you really could see the future, wouldn't you have known that the police wouldn't be able to change anything?  Why didn't you let us know where he was being held until seven o'clock this morning?  Why don't you tell me, now, who killed him."

 

            Kalista licked her lips, letting her eyes wander from his.  "Because I didn't know," she said softly.  "I don't just see the future.  I can't look at you and tell you exactly what your life will hold."

 

            Needless didn't bother to feign a surprised look.

 

            She continued, despite his obvious skepticism.

 

            "Like I said before, what I see comes from a sense of…closeness.  There has to be some kind of bond forged before I can see anything.  It's why I'm here, in this place.  And it's why people come to me."  It was apparent he still didn't understand, so she stood up and crossed the distance between them.  She reached out to him and he flinched momentarily, but her hand merely closed around his, her fingertips holding him loosely.  "Simple intimacy," Kalista explained to him, raising their hands to his view.

 

            A warmth seemed to radiate through his skin from her touch, but it wasn't uncomfortable, so Needless wrote it off.  "So what do you see?"

 

            Her eyes took on a far away glaze and the pressure on his wrist increased minimally.  Her dark, sooty lashes fluttered valiantly before giving in and falling to fan against her flawless skin.  Her mouth opened, her lips working to make words, but no sound came forth.

 

            In the next instant, the moment seemed to pass.  Her eyes opened and the flushed tint in her cheeks had gone.  Her fingers released him and she crossed her arms across her chest.

 

            There was a tickling sensation along the back of Needless' neck, as if he was being watched, but when he hazarded a glance over his shoulder, Needless saw nothing.  "What did you see?" he repeated, turning back to Kalista.

 

            Her tongue darted out to wet her lips again.  "You're afraid," she said simply.

 

            "Afraid?" Needless coughed, his skepticism rising.  "Could you be any more vague?"

 

            "No."  His tone failed to get a rise out of her.  "Part of you wonders if you really do have a beast inside of you.  It was a bit too easy to believe the lie, wasn't it?  It used to be fun to be the hot-headed one, but now…you're not so sure you know your limits."  She paused, almost for effect.  "You're also afraid of what Manzetti has up his sleeve next for you and your partner."

 

            For a second, his mouth went dry.  His rational, logical mind fought to make sense of her words.  And the harder he fought, the calmer he became.  "So this is your show?  Spouting psychoanalysis based on stories you could have heard on TV or read in the newspaper?"

 

            Kalista accepted his logic with a delicately arched brow and a slow smile.  "You want more?  I would almost think you want me to convince you, Detective."

 

            "I'd think you'd want to convince me, Miss Danae," Needless returned.  "It's the only way to prove to me that you weren't involved in a murder."

 

            She regarded him silently before closing the distance between them once again.  Her eyes shifted colors in the dim light of the room, rolling like the waves of the ocean.  When her fingertips grazed Needless's nape, he didn't pull away.  Kalista kept her gaze trained on him until the moment when her lips brushed against his.  Her breath was a lyrical sigh, its sweet warmth invading his senses.  When she made a move to deepen the contact, Needless didn’t stop her, but submitted himself to her skillful caress.

 

            There was no telling how long they stood there like that.  Just as he consciously began to realize his desire to bury his hands in the silken strands of her hair, Kalista wrenched her body away from his, leaving him gasping for more, his head filled with a thick cloud of fog where once reason and rationale had resided.

 

            "What did you do to me?" Needless growled, shaking his head like a wild dog, as if that would help to clear his head.

 

            "What can I say?" Kalista murmured huskily, her eyes bright as she watched him.  Her tongue darted out yet again, tasting the last remnants of their kiss.  "Sometimes everyone needs a little Needless Action."

 

            His head snapped up, but his comment was cut off by Magdalene's shrill voice telling them that time was up.  He looked from one woman to the other, knowing he needed to do something, arrest someone, but it seemed more imperative at the moment that he get away from the siren.

 

            Kalista seemed to sense his haste and she called out to him as he reached the door.  "Detective D'yen?"  Needless's hand stilled on the doorknob.  He didn't want to look, but he was unable to ignore her voice.  He cast her a glance over his shoulder and was struck by her appearance.  As she stood atop the stage, the last vestiges of innocence and youth were shed, leaving in their place a powerful vision of a temptress every bit as beautiful and dangerous as an Amazon.  "Don't you want to know what I saw?"

 

            When he didn't readily answer, she shrugged casually.  "You're right to be afraid.  When your partner needs you most, you will betray him."

 

            "I would never do that," Needless told her, his anger growing in leaps and bounds.  But still, he couldn't escape the sound of her voice.

           

Kalista shook her head, almost sadly.  "How do you know that for sure, John?  You haven't even begun to realize your true potential."

 

            "You're wrong," he told her.  "This is who I am.  Maybe I do question my limits.  Maybe sometimes I want to snap.  But I would never betray Stack."  Needless waited for her to say something else.  To agree or to disagree.  But she didn't say anything.  He turned the knob and left, the slamming of the door resounding through the bordello's foyer.

 

            Kalista's shoulders slumped forward and she let down her guard as the detective left.  Tired eyes raised to warily watch Magdalene's approach.

 

            "What did I tell you would happen if those meddling cops showed up here…?"

 

 

*

 

Smiles passed a hand over his face as he pulled into the Gobblin' Goblin's parking lot.  He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, even after he and Charlie had tracked down Needless and Stack's mystery caller.  His dreams were still vivid in his mind and when Stack had called to arrange this meeting, he'd been more than a little wary of answering the phone.

 

            He wasn't a superstitious man by nature.  After being a cop on the Big City force, there wasn't much left that got under his skin.  So why this -- a dream, of all things -- was bothering him, he wasn't sure.  But he could still feel the heat of the wolf's breath on his skin and he could still feel the pressure of its claws digging into his back.

 

            Pushing it from his mind, Smiles got out of his car and pushed his way into the diner, Stack's familiar profile standing out in the corner booth nearest the door.  There were two cups of coffee steaming atop the table, and he slid into the booth across from his old partner.  Already Stack had created some kind of homage to dairy creamer and processed sweetener.  Smiles swiped a few integral pieces of the sculpture and stirred them into the black liquid sitting in front of him.

 

            "Rough night," Stack nodded, garnering a sharp look from his old friend.