Backtrack Angel stared at the monitor, rocking backwards and forwards imperceptibly as she flicked through the series of images. Razor hovered watchfully nearby, wishing for once she was an empath: the cat-girl's surface thoughts were so much static and she had no idea what her lover was feeling. Angel's request to see photos of the area where she – and Devon, and more recently Alexei – had been kidnapped from had come out of the blue. Not being sure of the protocol in this case – this was an ongoing investigation and Angel was essentially a witness - Razor had asked Baxter what to do. Lenore had checked with de Winter who'd come back that it should be fine, as long as it was simply the surveillance shots of the area with no references to any particular person.
So far Angel had spent almost an hour reviewing the images over and over and over though there was one she kept going back to, kept staring at, a slight, puzzled frown on her face. It was an image of a grimy street, choked with litter, typical of the poorer areas of London. There was a dark gap between two run-down brick buildings - an alleyway - and there was a street sign, barely noticeable amongst the stencil-art and graffiti. Angel enlarged that portion of the screen enough to read the lettering: Dirks Way... The cat-girl shivered, hugging herself.
*What is it?* Razor squatted beside her lover, resting a hand on her shoulder.
*Not sure.* Angel shook her head. *There's something...* She swallowed. *Could I... Could you take me there...?*Almost hidden inside a voluminous overcoat and buffered by the sturdy presences of Razor and Lenore, Angel crept nervously along the narrow London street. She was jumpy, tense, her pupils contracting to the narrowest of slits as her eyes darted from side to side. Angel didn't remember this place at all but it was still... familiar.
*Here we go, Dirk's Way.* Lenore wrinkled her nose. *Another one of our great city's unofficial urinals.*
Razor eyed Angel, frowning.
*Are you sure about this?* Angel bit her lip, nodding shakily. The 'path's frown deepened at the fear she could sense from her lover.
"Yes, I'm sure." Angel spoke aloud, though so softly it was only just audible.
"Good girl." Lenore patted her shoulder encouragingly. "Let's go."
The alley wasn't very long but it was filthy. The only reason it hadn't become impassable with rubbish was that it was open at both ends and the wind kept the refuse moving through. Half-way down on the left, set into a shallow recess in the brick building, was a rusty metal door. Angel stared at it, trembling: she'd known this door would be here.
"Angel?" Lenore asked gently.
"I... can't remember why this is important." she whispered.
"Only one way to find out." Lenore nodded to Razor – who moved Angel to one side, away from the door – then stepped forward and rapped her knuckles against the pitted metal.
A few seconds passed before someone answered the summons.
"Yeah?" a man, not young, not old, glowered out at them, his brown eyes watchful and unfriendly. His gaze came to rest on Angel in her good-quality clothes and he sneered. "'ave you come to give an orphan a home, missus, or do you just want to donate some money to the cause?"
"Such a fucking comedian." The cat-girl growled - startling Razor with the unexpected, uncharacteristic outburst - only to shrink back against the 'path when the man's eyes narrowed.
"What do you want?"
Angel swallowed, found her voice, made herself look at him.
"I was... I went missing from around here a few years ago."
The man's gaze softened a fraction.
"Lots of people go missing."
"Sorry to interrupt," Lenore interjected pleasantly, flipping open her ID for him to see. "But who are you?"
"Pete Stiller." An eyebrow quirked at the Agency's logo. "I'm one of the volunteers."
"Volunteers for what?"
"The Dirk's Way Shelter..."The country's welfare system was inadequate and had been for years. Only a small fraction of those needing help managed to wriggle their way through the bureaucratic nightmare, the rest were generally left to muck along for themselves as best they could. There were other options though, if you knew where to look. Funded by donations and run by volunteers, various charitable institutions had grown up over the years, trying to fill the gap. Dirk's Way Shelter was one of these.
Pete Stiller showed the three women through to a cramped office space, shifting piles of paper off of chairs so they could all sit down.
"How long has this Shelter been operating?" Lenore was curious: she had a good working knowledge of London from her time with the Police but she was the first to admit she didn't know everything.
"Fifteen years, thereabouts." Pete slumped down in the chair behind the single desk.
"How many, uh, clients do you have?"
"Currently..." the man tapped a few keys on the ancient computer, then scanned through the results brought up on the monitor. "In excess of five hundred on our books. Of those..." he read a little further, "less than a hundred are in permanent residences."
Lenore nodded, thoughtful.
"That's a lot of people. You hand out food? Clothes?"
"We also try to find people jobs and accommodation as well, organise medical help, education." Pete huffed a sigh. "We're limited in what we can do 'cause we simply don't have the resources."
"I can imagine it's a struggle..."
Razor watched her partner work. Baxter was being relaxed and friendly, putting the belligerent man at ease. She was very good at this sort of thing, the 'path realised.
"So anyway," Lenore refocussed the conversation, gesturing to the still nervous cat-girl. "This is Angel. As she said she disappeared from around here a few years ago. She's lost her memory but this area seemed familiar to her. We thought it was a good place to start tracing her history."
Pete nodded.
"Okay. Not sure how I can help."
Lenore leant forward.
"Angel remembered this place, specifically. She could have been a client. Do you keep records of those that've gone missing?"
"For all the good it does us, yes." Pete turned back to the computer to call up the information. "It's standard practise to make a note on someone's file if they haven't been seen for a month or more." He glanced at the small blonde. "I'll need parameters for the search - how far back do you want me to go?"
"Four years?"
"Right. Four years, female..." he looked over at Angel who quivered against the need to run from him. "How old are you?"
"I... I'm not sure."
"We estimate she's in her early twenties now, so..." Lenore made a quick calculation, "... make it between fifteen and twenty-one years of age."
"Okay."
There was silence in the office as Pete entered the information into the database search.
"Hm. Couple of hundred matches. We can probably narrow this down further." He frowned at Angel. "What race are you?"
"Caucasian." Lenore stepped in.
"Heh, right," Pete grinned, "Hard to tell under the fur. Ah, that's better." He said after another small pause while the computer sorted through the files. "Fifty-four matches."
"Can we see them, please?"
"Sure." Pete swivelled the monitor to face the women. His glance flicked to the cat-girl, considering. After a moment he stood up. "There's a couple of things I have to do, I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Thanks." Lenore smiled her gratitude, reaching for the keyboard as Pete left the office."Sing out if any of these ring any bells."
Angel peered at the screen as Lenore scrolled slowly through the listings. Not many of the files had much in the way of details, even fewer had pictures attached.
"Wait. Go back one."
Angel gnawed at her lip as she frowned at the image. It was a casual shot of a young woman in jeans and baggy shirt sitting on a bench. She was leaning forwards, her elbows resting on relaxed-apart knees, a beer bottle held loosely in one hand. Her hair was short, glinting auburn in the sunlight, and she was gazing out of the photo with a 'get that thing out of my face' expression.
"Know her?" Lenore asked softly.
Angel shook her head.
"I can't say. It's like the image of this street, I feel like I should but I don't remember why." She shivered. "Is this me? Or someone I knew?"
Lenore glanced through the scanty information.
"Maddie Lakes."
The cat-girl's vivid green eyes filled with tears.
"It doesn't mean anything." she whispered.
"Don't worry, Angel." the agent gently reassured her, "Have a look through the rest of the list, see if anything else leaps out of you."
They scrolled through the remaining files with no more results at which point Pete came back into the room.
"Any use?"
His sudden appearance sent a tremor through the cat-girl and she huddled in to Razor.
"One possible." Lenore brought up the data.
"Maddie?" Pete frowned. "You think that's her?"
Lenore shrugged and the man raised his eyebrows.
"Look, no offence to your friend but I don't think so."
"Why?"
"I knew Maddie, a little. I started volunteering here a couple of weeks before she went missing. She was a volunteer as well, had been for a few years as I understand it, but she was tough. Maddie didn't take any shit from anyone, and well, your friend there pisses herself if I look at her too quickly."
Lenore sighed.
"Well we've got to start somewhere. Mind if we take a copy of the file?"
"No problem. Hard copy okay?"A couple of minutes later Lenore was thanking Pete for his time, preparatory to leaving.
*Get Angel back to the car,* she *privated* to her partner, *I'll be along in a couple of minutes.*
Razor nodded: you didn't need to be a 'path to see that Angel was near the end of her endurance.
Lenore waited until the pair were out of earshot then she turned back to Pete.
"Is there anyone else you can think of we can talk to? Someone who worked with Maddie perhaps?"
"Not offhand." He frowned. "No, hang on..." He went to the computer again. "Ah, yes - woman called Barbara Gale. She went to work at another shelter a couple of years ago." Pete's brow creased. "She was really upset when Maddie went missing. I remember now."
"Do you have a contact number?"
"I can give you the Shelter's number." Pete scrawled a series of digits on a piece of paper. "Don't know if she's still there though."
"Thanks, that's great." Lenore smiled at him, tucking the paper into her wallet. "Here." She pulled out a cash-card. "A donation."
"Thanks!" Pete's expression lightened markedly. "I'll give you a receipt."
"No need." Lenore waved it away.
"Have to," the man was already processing the payment. "It can be anonymous if you like but everything we get has to be logged."
Lenore acquiesced: it was important for an organisation like this to keep track of its funding, far too many resources tended to disappear into the pockets of the less scrupulous...On their return to Agency headquarters Razor took Angel straight back to their rooms. The cat-girl was shivering and close to tears as much from the stress of leaving the protected environment of the Agency building as being in contact with Pete. The 'path immediately put her lover to bed then curled up with her, holding her close until she fell asleep.
Lenore had gone back to their office to start searching for information about Maddie Lakes. She frowned at the monitor as another attempt came back with no useful results.
"It's almost certainly a false name, Wombat," Lenore grumbled to her section head, "But where the hell do I start?"
de Winter pursed her lips in thought.
"Angel's got a regional accent, hasn't she?"
"Yes, not pronounced but it's there."
"Where is she from, do you think?"
Lenore leant back in her chair, silently reviewing the mode of speech the cat-girl had instinctively reverted to once the cybernetic voice box had been fitted and she could speak again.
"North, somewhere. Yorkshire? Cumbria?" green eyes glinted. "Lake district... Maddie Lakes."
de Winter grinned.
"Start there and work out, I guess. Heh, why am I telling you this? You're the ex-WPC!"
"Ex-Sergeant, if you don't mind." Lenore chuckled. "Right, let's see what we get..."
A few minutes later the agent was blinking at the screen, comparing the image of the world-wise young woman from the Shelter's print-out with the sparkling-eyed girl reported missing by her parents almost ten years ago.
"Well that was easy."
"Madeleine Longey," Wilma read from the screen, "what's this?" she pointed to a flashing red icon at the bottom of the page.
"Indicates it's been cross-referenced to a police matter." Lenore followed the link. "Holy... Madeleine Longey is, or was, wanted in connection with an incident of arson at a school." She scanned through the file. "A deliberately lit fire that destroyed half the school, starting in the principal's office. Madeleine was seen 'running from the scene' by the caretaker."
"Her school?"
"Yes." Lenore's eyebrows rose. "Good school, too, very expensive. One of the ones that takes the kids from cradle to University."
"Begs the question of why she did it, though, doesn't it?" de Winter was pensive. "Can you get her school records?"
The women skimmed the documents that began with Madeleine's entrance at kindergarten level, through to year 8. They built a picture of a good, enthusiastic student, a friendly and helpful girl, right up until the middle of her last recorded year.
"I wonder what went wrong?" Lenore mused. Madeleine's last report showed a sharp drop in her grades and accompanying comments from her teachers about a complete reversal in the girl's attitude. Overnight, it seemed, Madeleine had become sullen, argumentative and 'disrespectful of authority'. Lenore frowned. "Everything goes to hell, quickly, and then she disappears after allegedly torching her school."
"Not just hormones, then?" Wilma's smile was rueful.
The blonde flashed a grin at her superior.
"Nah. In my experience, personality changes like this are usually tied to some sort of trauma, or drug use."
"Abuse?"
"That too." Lenore reached for the keyboard again. "I'll see if I can unearth anything in her family background...""Nothing." The agent sighed, stretching. "Perfectly ordinary life apparently. Only child of a well-to-do family."
Wilma frowned.
"Wouldn't be the first time there's been some funny business in a 'respectable' family."
"True. And we're not even sure this is Angel." She glanced at her superior. "Shall I continue?"
"The more we can discover the better chance of finding that out."
Lenore nodded.
"Here's a thought. If we can trace some of 'Maddie's' relatives we might be able to do a genetic match."
"If Angel's DNA hadn't been tampered with I'd say go for it, but in this case..." the section head shrugged. She glanced at her watch. "Anyway, it's getting late, you can get back to it in the morning. Are you seeing Charles tonight?"
The blonde laughed at Wilma's impish smirk.
"No, alas, there's something afoot at the Met. Very hush, hush."
"No doubt we'll hear about it in the morning news, then." Wilma clapped Lenore lightly on the shoulder. "See you tomorrow."The next morning Razor reported to her partner, without prompting, that Angel had slept for hours but had woken up relaxed and happy. She'd bounced back from yesterday's trauma remarkably quickly. It didn't look like the 'path had had such a good night though, Lenore thought, wondering if Razor had stayed awake to watch over her lover. Razor would never admit it, of course.
"Today we'll contact the woman at the shelter," Lenore filled her partner in on the game-plan, "And see if we can scare up any of Maddie's relatives, school friends etc."
"Do you think this woman is Angel?" Razor was quiet.
The blonde shrugged.
"Too early to say. Let's get on with it. I'll hunt down this Barbara Gale – can you rake through Maddie's class lists...?"Not only was the woman Pete Stiller pointed them to still working at the shelter, she was there when Lenore rang. The agent introduced herself, explaining why she was in contact, and made an appointment to meet Ms Gale at a cafe near the shelter within the hour.
The strain of Barbara Gale's work showed in her heavy-lidded eyes and the deep creases in the skin to either side of her mouth.
"Maddie Lakes? Oh yes, I remember her. Why do you want to know?"
"We're following up a line of enquiry," Lenore's reply was smooth while giving nothing away, a time-honoured police method. "What can you tell me about her? What was she like?"
The woman's rasp of a voice thickened.
"Maddie was... very determined."
"To do what?"
Barbara laughed.
"Whatever she'd put her mind to! No, Maddie had strong principles and she stuck to them for all the time I knew her."
"When did you first meet?"
"She turned up at Dirk's Way one rainy morning, soaking wet, obviously starving. I fed her, let her have a shower, then she turns around and asks – demands – to know what she can do to help." The woman chuckled. "She absolutely wouldn't accept charity, of any kind. If we gave her something she had to repay it somehow."
"Did she ever tell you where she came from? How she got to London?"
"Not a peep. Ever." Barbara sighed. "I guessed she'd come from up North somewhere and that she was well-educated. Maddie spoke very well even though swore like a trooper. She never used slang, though, and the... range of her vocabulary indicated to me a better than average education."
"How long did you know her?"
There was a slight pause.
"Six, almost seven years." Another sigh. "I was very upset when she went missing."
"Can you think of any reason for her disappearance?"
There was a longer pause.
"Ms Gale?" Lenore prompted.
"I... have my own ideas about that... but they're so far-fetched..."
"Far-fetched? In what way?"
Barbara's voice lowered.
"Maddie, as I said, had principles, and she could be very aggressive in maintaining them." The agent waited. "She'd made herself unpopular in some circles during her last year."
"Unpopular? How?"
"She'd been volunteering at the shelter right from the start, even when she was working two, three shit jobs at a time she would still come and help out. Maddie got very involved in the local community, very... protective of it. There was an area nearby slated for redevelopment. It was slum housing but housing none the less. If the place had been bulldozed a couple of hundred people would've been homeless." The woman's voice resonated with a quiet pride. "Maddie organised the protests, got people motivated. She even kicked the local council up the backside, spoke at the meetings against the development, argued for the residents' rights that the company involved were happily ignoring."
"Was she successful?"
"Oh yes. Not only was the redevelopment stopped but moves were being made to improve the area for the residents benefit." Barbara sounded almost wistful. "And then Maddie disappeared, everything fell through and the housing was bulldozed anyway." She paused, then: "I'm not saying there was definitely a connection, you understand."
"I understand." Lenore was tactful. "Can you remember the name of the company...?"
She could, as well as the names of the local councillors Maddie suspected had been in the developer's pay. Lenore made notes of all this then thanked Barbara for her help. The agent paid for their largely untouched teas and headed back to the Agency headquarters leaving the woman to her thoughts.Over a light lunch of sandwiches eaten at her desk, Lenore relayed what she'd learnt to her partner and de Winter.
Wilma frowned heavily.
"This is sounding decidedly dodgy. It'll be bad enough if there's a connection between the girl's disappearance and the redevelopment, but if Maddie turns out to be Angel as well..."
"She wasn't simply murdered for getting in the way, but sold into the Pet Industry." Lenore grimaced. "That goes beyond avarice to malice." She glanced at Razor. "Have you traced any of Maddie's friends, relatives?"
The 'path nodded and pushed over a couple of pages of print-out.
"Her parents both died in a car crash last year. Deemed an accident. She has one living relative that I can find, an aunt living down on the coast in an aged-care facility."
"Friends?"
"I've narrowed it down to twelve women who'd been in the same class as Maddie all the way through school." Razor lifted a shoulder negligently. "Even if she wasn't friends with any of them they should be able to tell us something."
"Good." Lenore's grin was wicked. "I assume I'll be making the calls?"
Razor quirked an eyebrow.
"If you want to get anything sensible out of them then the answer's yes."
The blonde laughed.
"I suppose I'd better, your people-skills being what they are." She brushed the crumbs off her hands and cleared the sandwich wrappings into the bin. "You're at the créche this afternoon?"
Razor nodded glumly.
"Right, I'll get on with contacting these women, you can see what you can find about the developers when you get back."
"I'll leave you to it, then," de Winter headed back to her own work. "Keep me posted."Lenore began the fiddly task of discovering the current whereabouts of the women on Razor's list. Not all of them had taken partners and/or changed their surnames, and not all of them had moved from the area but even so it was an hour and a half before the agent had a useable set of contact details. By the time Razor returned from her stint at the créche Lenore had made all the calls though she'd only managed to speak to two of the women, both of who remembered Maddie but couldn't shed any light on her disappearance. The agent had left messages for the remaining women, fully expecting to have to chase them up again tomorrow, only to be pleasantly surprised when one of them – Alice Banbury – called back within half an hour.
"Have you found Maddie?" Alice blurted out after Lenore introduced herself. "Is she alive?"
"I'm sorry, I can't say at the moment." Lenore was attentive. "Were you a friend of Maddie's?"
"Yes," the woman sighed. "Best friends for years. I still miss her. I've named one of my daughters after her."
"Can you tell me anything about how or why she disappeared?"
Alice paused.
"She asked me not to say anything, but I suppose, after all this time...?"
"Anything you can tell us will be a great help, Ms Banbury." Lenore suffused her voice with warm encouragement.
"All right then." Alice cleared her throat, obviously still hesitant. "Maddie… had some problems at school..."
"Did you know what sort of problems?"
"Yes." Another long pause. "Maddie said the principal... had interfered with her."
Lenore's eyebrows rose but she kept her voice even.
"Interfered, as in...?"
"As in took her into his office on pretext of something, put his hands down her pants, tried to make her... perform oral sex on him."
"I see." That would explain the fire starting in the principal's office, then. "How long did this go on for? And did Maddie tell anyone other than yourself?"
"He tried it twice, and yes Maddie told everyone who would listen... only no one would." Alice was all but growling. "She told her teacher, the deputy-principal, her parents. None of them believed her."
"Why was that, do you think?"
"Because he was liar!" the woman exploded. "And he made Maddie out to be a liar! He ripped her apart for 'telling lies' about him!"
"I'm sorry to hear that. You believed her?"
"Yes I did." It was a fierce statement. "And later another couple of the girls came forward and accused him of the same thing, but by then it was too late, Maddie had set fire to the school and ran away."
Lenore frowned.
"Are you certain it was Maddie who started the fire?"
"Yes." Alice's voice trembled. "She came to see me that night. Snuck around to my bedroom window. She... she already had a bag packed. She was so angry, at her parents, at him. She told me what she was going to do." The woman trailed off miserably.
"And asked you not to say anything?"
"Yes." Alice whispered. "Did I do the right thing? Staying silent? If I'd said something earlier maybe she could have been found?"
"I'm sorry I can't answer that for you," Lenore said gently. "Maddie would've appreciated your loyalty though, I'm sure."
"She was my best friend." Alice sniffled. "I loved her."
Lenore smiled.
"Thank you for speaking to me, Ms Banbury, I appreciate your help."
"That's fine," Alice blew her nose, quietly. "Please, if there's any developments...?"
"If I can, yes." The agent replied.
"... Thank you..."Lenore sipped her coffee.
"So now we know why Maddie ran away, but we still don't know if she's Angel." She regarded her partner. "When – should – we tell Angel what we've found?"
The 'path looked uncomfortable.
"I can't be subjective about that. I don't want her hurt, by anything."
"But if we do tell her it might trigger some further memories?"
Razor let out a deep breath.
"I can't advise you. Perhaps Horn would be better placed for that?"
Lenore nodded, green eyes narrowed in thought. Nicola Horn was the psychologist working with Angel, she'd be likely to have a better idea of what the ex-pet could tolerate. "I'll talk to her later. What have you found about the company?"
"Very little." Razor scowled. "Their self-promotion is spectacular, and they're happy to list their successes but publicly at least there's no hint of anything underhand."
"Hardly surprising." Lenore snorted. "Found anything about any of the individuals? The company directors? Management?"
"There's even less available on them. They're all publicity shy, it seems." Razor scowled at the screen in front of her. "I'm coming at it from another angle. One of the directors is involved in a few charities. Might find something there." There was silence from across the desk for several minutes then Razor made a sound of satisfaction. "Here we are..."
Lenore jerked her head up at the 'path's snarled oath.
"What is it?" She hurried around to her partner's side of the double desk.
"Him." Razor, stabbed a finger at one of several men in evening attire featured in the image displayed on her monitor. The path's voice dripped venom. "He was Angel's owner..."Lenore decided to consult with Nicola Horn before going any further with the investigation. Opportunely the psychologist was between appointments; she met with Razor, Lenore and de Winter in the field Agents' conference room.
"Yes." Nicola was thoughtful, "I think Angel should know about this. I assume you'll show her the picture? To get a positive ID?" Lenore nodded and the psychologist looked at Razor. "It's going to be traumatic. It'll be better for her if you're there."
"I have every intention of doing that." Since viewing the image the 'path had retreated into her customary stony contempt, forcing Lenore to realise just how... relaxed Razor had been since Angel came into her life.
"I'd like to be there as well," Nicola continued, tactfully ignoring Razor's icy tone. "And I strongly suggest you give Angel some warning, don't spring it on her."
"Once we get a positive ID on the bastard," Wilma was grim, "We can pull him in and examine his memories – see how Angel came to be in his possession."
"He's a banker, not directly involved with the construction company," Lenore added, indicating the hard-copy of the image, "but he's certainly chummy with a couple of the directors."
"And now the sixty-four dollar question, Nicola." Wilma inclined her head to the psychologist, "Given what these two have found out about Maddie, and what you've observed in Angel, how likely is it they're the same person?"
The psychologist unhurriedly drummed her fingers on the table as she took a moment to gather her thoughts.
"My first impression is to say yes, they're the same person. Angel is – currently – not the fiery, indomitable spark Maddie appeared to be, but then again she fought her conditioning as a pet every step of the way. What she endured in the 'softening-up' went beyond brutalisation, because she fought it, and how many times did she try to escape from her owner? Four times? She never fully succumbed and that bespeaks a strong, determined will if nothing else."
"Right then." de Winter said, all business again. "I'll order a covert telepathic surveillance of Mr 'Johnson'. If that turns up any incriminating memories then we can move on him. Quietly though, and quickly, we don't want to spook any one else involved." She gazed sombrely at the agents. "Go and speak to Angel, the sooner the better, then we can start the ball rolling."Angel stopped breathing.
Even with Lenore's warning that she was going to show her an image of a man who could possibly have been her owner, the sight of Mr Johnson's face was enough to terrify the cat-girl into numbed shock. But Razor was there, the 'path's loving presence flooding her mind, buffering her, protecting her against the horrible memories of helplessness and degrading pain.
"You're safe, Angel," Nicola Horn's voice filtered down through the roar in her ears, "Hold onto that thought."
*Breathe with me.* Razor commanded gently, bringing one of Angel's hands to her chest so the woman could feel the steady rise and fall of her respiration. Angel shakily complied, tearing her gaze away from the print-out, locking onto her lover's anxious blue eyes.
*You know who he is?*
Razor nodded.
*Get him. I'll...* she licked her lips and swallowed. *I'll... testify.*
The 'path drew in a sharp breath, understanding more than anyone - other than Greg Mahican, perhaps – just how harrowing it would be for Angel to face her ex-owner. Uncaring for the first time ever that they were being observed, Razor pulled her lover into a tight hug, cuddling the shivering woman against her.
*You're amazing.* she was almost reverent.
*Amazing?* Angel forced an unsteady laugh. *No. I just can't bear the thought of that... cunt... getting away with it.*
Razor cupped the cat-girl's furred cheek in her hand.
*I think you're amazing.*
Angel's lips quirked momentarily.
*Well then, if you think so, it must be true.* she searched the 'path's face. *Don't leave me, Raze.*
*I won't, I promise...*
Lenore and Nicola shared a half-amused look as the women silently kissed.
"I don't think we'll be missed if we leave now." Nicola murmured with a smile, standing up to leave.
Lenore followed suit.
"Will Angel be all right?" she asked once they'd slipped out of the pair's apartment.
Nicola nodded.
"Yes. It's going to take time, but she's strong at heart. It'll help if we can nail the bastard who bought her."
Lenore lifted her chin, green eyes glinting.
"Oh, that'll be my first priority..."
© 2004 July 24th Lutra
Darkside