SixBarkPackTabooMobi (3 page)

I’d never had to worry much about self-preservation. Tommy and Leo always took care of that for me. Anyway, as much as I’d screwed around, I’d always done it within the boundaries of Daddy’s domain.

Like I said, I wasn’t thinking straight. But, can you blame me?

From step number one, I noticed curious eyes, but people always watch me, so I didn’t let it bug. I had to squint when the sun came up. My eyes hurt, dry, and I was tired but I kept walking, looking around, wondering where I could crash, where I could nab a pair of shades.

Not toying with going back to where I belonged. Never even crossed my mind. I mean, why? Tommy and Leo would be around to pick me up soon enough. I inhaled the fresh air--as it was, anyway--and took in the sights.

A hooker called to me from a doorway. “Bitch.”

I kept going, same pace, pretending I hadn’t heard.

“I said...
bitch
.” Next, the rat-tatting click of her heels catching up to me. “You don’t want to go that way.”

Sparing her a glance, slowing up, I asked, defiantly, “Why not?”

“Prime piece like you?”

That made me flinch, and I put my chin up, walked a little faster, too. Thinking, prime? I wasn’t dressed to impress anybody. I muttered, “Who says I’m prime for anything?”

“You go that way, and you’ll be primed. I promise.”

I stopped, faced her and said, “Look. Did I ask for your advice?”

That’s when I realized she was bastet, too. Had some harsh hours under her belt, judging from the lines on her face and the sadness in her eyes. Not that she wasn’t pretty. In fact, she might have been beautiful, if she hadn’t looked so tired. She had masses of naturally curly, layered red hair with highlights. Big brown eyes. Classic features that had to draw men to her. And a really curvy shape, highly noticeable in her low-cut, sparkly, red, slinky, strappy mini. Yeah, it was a number you couldn’t miss.

Perfect for Leo. I frowned at her.

A little sadly, she said, “I know you.”

It was annoying. I grouched, “You do not.”

“Yeah, I think I do.” Her eyes trailed up the street to where I was headed. “What’s your name?”

I don’t know if she really thought she knew me, and wanted to confirm--that seemed too unbelievable to me--or was she just trying to get to know me?

I asked, “Does it matter?”

“Sugar...” She swung her head back around. “What
in hell
are you doing?” Her hand reached for me. “Do you have any idea where you are?” I flinched from her fingers. She groaned, leaning back, crossing her arms. “Oh. I get it. Running away. Again.” She blew air upward. “Couldn’t you run away somewhere else?”

Maybe it bugged her that I was in her space? She reached out, flicked my hair and said with a curled lip, “You’ll be dead by midnight here.” Looking from side to side, she said, “Dogs are already sniffing.”

There was interest from up the street. Heads peeking in our direction. I felt like she was drawing attention to us.

“Right.” I had an urge to move on. Besides, I knew as long as I stayed on the sidewalks, in the open, I would be all right. Garou don’t snatch people, even cat people, in broad daylight--unless you piss them off, and I had no plans to do that.

She put a hand on my arm, really gripping this time, and insisted, “Least, let me put you up. You can think about things before you do something stupid.”

Pulling free, I said, “I don’t need to think. Keep your hands off me,
chica
.”

The girl had a salsa thing going on. It suited her.

“Look. It’s late.” Early morning--but late for night people. “Shack at my place. Get something to eat. Let me tell you some stories. Then, you wanna go that way, you go. K?”

“No obligation?” I really was tired, worn out. I’d had a big night. Forgot about my quota for the minute.

She hesitated, chewed the inside of her lip, glanced behind me. I turned to look, too, but didn’t see anyone. That’s when she said, “Nah. Just come.”

So, I went with her.

The place wasn’t fancy. One of those old buildings that have been around for a hundred years. Cracking brickwork on the outside, and peeling plaster on the inside. But she’d cleaned up her apartment. There wasn’t much in it, though. Nothing like what I was used to. It was a nice change.

She offered me a soda, and we sat down on her couch. That’s when the wheedling began. She wanted to know my name. Where I came from. If I had family.

I didn’t say much. I felt like I was being played. One minute she seemed like she knew me--that runaway comment--then she asked me questions. Didn’t make sense. Had my protective radar up.

And more...she asked specifically if I had any brothers. I told her I did. Then she asked about them. Tried to come across like she thought I was cute, so they must be, too. That kind of interest. Kept looking at me oddly, like she was thinking about something pretty hard.

She tried the ‘trade for trade.’ Told me her name was Ali. Got my name that way. First one, anyway. Then she spilled a little of her life story. Not much. Said she’d been hooking for awhile, and told me that her pimp would be by any time to pick up the night’s pay. I don’t know why, but I thought she was lying.

But...he didn’t knock. Waltzed right in like he owned the place. Maybe he did. I don’t know.

I didn’t like him. Stunk like a pisser dog. Asked me if I was interested in working the lane. That’s the line between garou-ville and where I came from. Where I was, apparently.

Never saying a word, I shook my head. He left without any trouble, smiled when he told Ali, “Keep her safe. You know how it can get down here. May be worth something to you.” He slipped his arm around her waist, pulled her in for a kiss and added, “Something you’ve been wanting real bad.”

Whatever that was all about.

He left after that. And I began to wonder if she’d been telling the truth. I mean, it looked like she was a hooker. He acted like a pimp, fronting like he was the man and all that. And I’d pegged her as one straight up. I figured my instincts were a little out of whack, though, for all the stuff rolling through me still.

It never occurred to me that she was somebody else’s eyes. A lookout. Or a victim. But that’s another story. Yeah, I learned more about her later.

Ever think that destiny has a plan? That you’re set on a road that you can’t really turn off of? You can take another path, but it just leads you right back to where you’re supposed to be. That’s what I think, anyway.

I asked her more than once, okay--three times, if she really was selling her talents. Not that I was judging. I mean, we all do things to get by. It didn’t sound too bad to me. I think men
should
pay for what they get, one way or another. We’re all whores. Right? Feed me. Clothe me. Take care of me. Gimme a little spending money.

Does that sound harsh? We give them what they want. Why shouldn’t we get a little ‘gimme’ back?

She didn’t want to talk about that. Said it made her tired. But she did want to tell me some stories. I didn’t believe half of them. You could call them Dog Wars. And Cat Wars. They meant nothing to me. That was above me, ya know?

Interrupting her, I asked, “You got any blow?”

Of course, she did.

It was a mistake to deal cash with her watching. That’s how much I care about money.

Anyhow, we did a line. After I sniffed it up, I told her that Tommy would hate it. Laughed about it, actually.

Then she kissed me.

I made her back off. Told her I wasn’t into that. That she should ask before touching. She was cool with it. Offered me a hot toddy. I took maybe three sips before I was down for the count.

When I woke up, she was gone, and so was my cash. I figured that meant fair trade for anything in the place.

I looked for a drink first. The bottle was empty, by the sink. My glass had been washed, even. Groan. I knew I had to get out of there.

Peeling all my own things, including the bra and G, which had gotten stale, I put on a cute pair of brown suede pants, some spiky, pointed toe boots and a lace-up leather corset top.

That was all a little tight. I’m bigger boned than she is, built completely different. Then I took a jacket to match, too. Swallowed my last two Valium dry, and slipped my PKs in the pocket. Then I took a look at myself in the mirror.

Pants drew attention to my butt, climbed the crack a little--showing definition in my cheeks. Cut to do that on purpose. I wasn’t sure what I thought about that, but I figured my family would hate it, so it made me smile.

Cupping my breasts, I tried to make them look bigger. The corset flattened them worse than they already were. You can’t fix some things, though. Ya know?

All in all, it didn’t look too bad. I relaced the corset, making it tie at the top. Thought it looked cute that way.

Hardly fifteen hundred dollars worth, but I was pissed, and knew I’d just give her name and address to Leo later. I mean, no big deal. Right? She fucked me. So, fuck her. Leo would handle it, like he always did. And if Tommy needed to come around, and clean up after that? C’est la vie. She brought it on herself.

By then, night was in swing again. I wondered where she got off to, but didn’t really care, if that makes sense. I wanted a drink. My throat felt parched. I left.

There were TVs on in the window, behind metal gates, at the corner. Passing that, I saw the news report on the pharmacy slaying. Had to stop to watch, see the covered bodies, count. Glad to see there were three. Two cops and a clerk.

Felt numb. Wondered very briefly where Leo and Tommy were.

A bus going by made me think that I needed to move away. I’d lingered too long near the stop. In fact, I looked over my shoulder, a little surprised that my brothers hadn’t caught up with me already. Surely they’d sniffed my trail to the bus stop by then?