Nancy turned and inspected herself in the mirror. She had found a maternity dress close enough to her size that wasn’t hideous on short notice. The colors weren’t great, but it was flowy and didn’t make her look humongous. It also matched one of her favorite pairs of shoes. Heels while pregnant weren’t healthy, but this was a special occasion.

  Martine and Bina were in Ranola on a layover. It was so rare to see them together that she didn’t dare run home to freshen up. It was a mad dash as soon as she knew they were in town; a shopping trip followed by inhaling the bland broth she was forced to live on. That should prevent any smells at the restaurant from making her sick.

  Grabbing her bag, she made one final makeup check in the smooth steel of the elevator doors before they opened. Downstairs, she said goodnight to security and departed the building into a dense wall of thick, warm air. Great.

  She intended to walk because De Fazio’s because it only six blocks away and she needed the exercise. Walking six blocks while pregnant on a normal night would have been fine. However, six blocks on a gross humid night was a guarantee she would arrive a sweaty mess. Nancy glanced back at her building.

  Driving would take as long or longer since parking near De Fazio’s was always a nightmare. She would also have to go back into the building, then navigate the parking garage. One deep breath later, she set off at a much slower pace than her normal brisk long legged stride. Slow and steady to minimize sweat.

  She picked the most traveled and well lit route. A woman on her own at night was enough of a target, a pregnant one even more so. Nancy made decent time, even at her stop and smell the roses pace. She crossed 7th avenue with the light. Three blocks to go and only a light sheen of sweat.

  As she passed a bus stop, a ruckus of metallic clanging drew her attention. A man stumbling out of the alley had knocked over several trash cans. His head whipped around until fevered eyes landed on her. Fabulous. Nancy increased her pace, focusing on the next intersection, hoping she could cross before he could reach her.

  “Mademoiselle, a moment.”

  She turned to see the man from the alley only a few steps away. His shoulder length hair looked tussled, like he had just spilled out of bed. His suit jacket, trousers, and shoes were worn and scuffed, but high quality. Better than someone sleeping in an alley would have.

  “I’m afraid not. I have people waiting on me,” she said, staring him in the eyes before continuing on her way. All the self defense instructors said to make direct eye contact and be firm but polite when refusing unwanted advances. With any luck, he would meet someone else to annoy.

  “You smell... divine.” He sniffed the air as he kept pace beside her. Of all nights, why did she have to fend off someone crazy tonight?

  “Thank you, but again, some friends are expecting me around the corner and I don’t want to keep them waiting.” Polite but firm.

  “Wait,” he said, grasping her wrist, his hand oddly cold in the warm night. Nancy spun, mouth opening to tell him off. As she met his gaze, a wave of pin pricks washed over her. As that faded, it felt like she was falling into the ocean of his light blue eyes.

  “Don’t speak. Be still. I’m an old friend you haven’t seen in some time,” he said, his voice calm. Her clenched fist relaxed, her shoulders dropped, and she smiled down at him.

  She saw the man before her. Felt his frigid hand tight on her wrist. But she couldn’t pull away, couldn’t yell. She felt... disconnected, numb.

  “Follow,” he instructed, sliding his hand into hers. Turning, he lead her back toward the alley he had come from. She accompanied without question.

  A few years ago, Nancy had taken a test drive in a prototype self-driving car. They assured her safety as the car followed the lines on the test track, stopping or evading when it encountered an obstacle. When asked for feedback, she told them it was unnerving to have no way to exert control over the vehicle.

  Now, she was in the passenger seat of her own mind, the steering wheel right there, but she couldn’t reach it. He led her deep into the alley and arranged her against the wall below a fire escape. Alternating white and red neon lights from a rooftop sign illuminated their secluded corner.

  They were far enough in that anyone who saw them would think it was two people escaping prying eyes for some private time. He paced back and forth as he studied her with eager eyes.

  “By the gods, what is it?” he asked, inhaling through his nose. He sniffed behind her ears, at her neck and chest, his icy fingers caressing her arms. Inside, she yelled at him, tried to push him away, to hit him. Nothing.

  “It’s not your perfume.” His hands left her arms and ran along the sides of her protruding abdomen. His sunken eyes closing as he smelled her stomach. “This,” he whispered, licking his lips as he lifted her dress and slip to reveal her large belly.

  “Keep your dress here,” he ordered. She compiled, her hands gripping the bunched up cloth under her chest. His fingers traced her stomach almost reverently. Shirley moved, causing a wave across Nancy’s belly. He stared with the crazed eyes of a junkie too long without a fix. But it was his grin that sent chills down her spine.

  His canine teeth were long and sharp. Far longer than they should have been. Had they been like that before? Goose pimples shot down her arms when she remembered the new conference. “... all victims found with a severe laceration to the neck... indicative of animal bites... “

  So focused on her unborn child, he forgot she existed. Opening his mouth as wide as he could, he turned his head at different angles, trying to identify the best place to begin. It was him. This was how Nadia and all the other girls had died. Trapped in their head while this monster ate them. And she was next. Except he wanted her daughter and she could do nothing.

  No.

  Nancy screamed in her head, pushed with every ounce of her being. If she could just get hold of the steering wheel. He stepped back, pondering his meal.

  No!

  She screamed louder. Pushed harder. Reaching for the wheel. Reaching for herself. There! For a split second, she felt the cotton bundled in her fingers. She skimmed the steering wheel just beyond her finger tips. He shrugged and knelt in front of her.

  NO!

  Nancy’s scream echoed in her ears, drowning all else out as she threw everything against whatever was restraining her. She would not die in this alley. Her child would not be eaten by some sick freak. Her fingers brushed the wheel and curled around it.

  He licked his lips once more, aligning his head for his first taste when he saw her fingers moving. Shaking, they uncurled, releasing the dress. It slid down, covering her stomach. He glanced up, seeing her brows draw down as fire lit behind her eyes. Her lips quivered as they parted, whispering.

  “...no.”

  He blinked, regarding her for a moment, then a light amused laugh took him over. He stood, shaking his head, and smirked at her. His hand flashed around her throat.

  “You will- “ he said but was cut off by someone else’s laugh. This laugh was deep and rich. It reverberated throughout the alley. He released her neck, stepping back.

  “Oh Phillip, I never thought I’d have to dig through the trash to locate you,” the same deep voice said. His fists clenched as his head whirled in all directions. He spun, frantic eyes darting, checking every corner and nook, trying to discover the source of the voice.

  Phillip turned back to Nancy, one hand raising slightly, before it balled into a fist and he turned to run. A half step into his escape, he ran into something: a tall narrow man who hadn’t been there a moment before, bald head glowing in the neon lights.

  “Khaba, pleas-,” Phillip managed before a hand at his throat choked the words away. The numbness in Nancy’s body ebbed.

  “You don’t get to use that name,” the larger man said, drawing back and striking Phillip across the face with a loud crack. Nancy gasped as all the feeling returned to her body. She fell into the driver’s seat. She sucked in a breath to yell for help as she leaned into a sprint for the street.

  The larger man was in front of her before she could scream. Cold fingers, far colder than Phillis, curled around her chin sending shivers down her neck and back as he shifted her face to his. Pin picks crashed over her as she fell into the endless abyss of his dark eyes.

  “Be still and quiet, my dear.”

  When Phillip had done this, she felt forced into the passenger seat; she could still see out of the front window and had reached the steering wheel with effort. When this man spoke, she was ripped out of her body. She floated in a void. She screamed, but there was no sound, reached, but there was nothing to grab. She could only observe.

  “Oz-zy,” Phillip croaked, drawing the larger man’s attention back to him. Nancy heard the crack of Phillip being struck again before she realized the larger man’s hand had left her face. Phillip now had four bloody troughs across his face, and his right eye was missing. Her stomach rolled at the meaty red socket and what she guessed was his eye oozing down his cheek.

  “I wanted you burned,” the man said, walking around Phillip to stand behind him, still holding him at the neck. Taking his free hand, he placed his long fingers in Phillip’s mouth, gripping his jaw. Phillip, desperate, tried to bite down on the larger man’s hand but couldn’t break his skin. Even the longer canines having no effect.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “It’s decided that you’ll be confined again. This was against my counsel, of course.” Unable to look away, Nancy watched as the larger man, holding Phillip’s jaw, pulled forward. A wet snap signaled it, disconnecting from his skull. Then a sound like leather tearing as he leisurely tore it off and examined it, smiling.

  Nancy’s stomach lurched. If she could have moved, the broth would have come out. How was that possible? How was anyone that strong? Drugs?

  Gurgling moans escaped Phillip, his blood soaking his jacket and button up. Phillip struggled in vain, clawing at the arms, restraining him. His captor unconcerned until Phillip got his fingers in the sleeve of his top and pulled, tearing the fabric.

  “Kuss ummak!!” the man said, staring at his sleeve in tatters. Hate-filled eyes snapped back to Phillip, who struggled but could not escape. The larger man’s trembling lips peeled back. Nancy watched in horror as his canine teeth lengthened to sharp points.

  Was that what Phillip had done? What the fuck were they? She watched him wrench Phillip’s head to his side and bite into his neck. Single eye bulging, Phillip’s arms and hands quivered, reaching toward Nancy.

  The sound escaping the mess that remained of his mouth was little more than a long, pained sigh. The man remained clamped to Phillip’s neck. She wasn’t certain at first, but it looked like Phillip was deflating. Almost as if the larger man were breathing him in.

  The flesh around his face became taut and his hands thinned, the skin stretching on his fingers. The ocean blue of Phillip’s eye faded, becoming dull and foggy. Only his blond hair remained untouched. The man released the bite, his head falling back. His mouth and teeth were coated with Phillip’s blood.

  He let go and Phillip slumped to the pavement. Stepping on Phillip’s back, he back tore off a piece of the suit jacket. After cleaning his face, he did a once over of his own clothing. Lingering for a moment, almost mournfully, on his torn sleeve, he glanced back to the body with a snarl.

  “Not enough that I have to wade through rubbish to find you,” he said, grasping Phillip’s wrist and shoulder. He rotated the arm until it popped out of the socket. His gaze snapped to Nancy, almost as if he had forgotten she was there. Taking stock of her pallid complexion, sweat filled brow, and rapid breathing, he pointed to the bricks next to her.

  “Look at the wall, dear. This won’t be pleasant.”

  Her head turned, thankfully, as the sound of more popping and tearing began. Her stomach lurched again as she realized he was dismembering Phillip. If he could rip a man’s jaw off with one hand, he was strong enough to pull the rest of him apart.

  Was he the actual killer? Nadia Grisham was no weak woman. She wouldn’t have gone down fighting. She would have been able to resist Phillip as Nancy had. But this man... She screamed again, but heard nothing. When she tried to push, there was nothing to push.

  The sound of something being placed next to her brought her out of her head. She felt his hand on her chin again, his fingers warm now, and turned her face to his.

  “You may move, but stay here. You may speak, but no screaming.”

  She felt the rush of being dropped back into the driver’s seat. A second later, she turned and emptied her stomach onto the wall and pavement. As usual, her body forced several volleys before deciding it was empty.

  After catching her breath, she turned to see him sitting on a box with a similar one on the ground next to her. Phillip was no where to be seen. A few wet spots on the ground were all that remained of him. The man sat, his legs crossed, bouncing one foot.

  He was, now that she had the mental space to take him in, dressed rather unconventionally: large platform boots, shiny pants, and what looked to be a tube top underneath a silk blouse. The flickering light from the billboard above made his eye shadow glow. Small hoops hung from his ears. His hands, folded over his knee, ended in painted nails. He waved his hand to the box.

  “You can sit. I imagine after all this you need a rest.” His voice was light now, almost flowery. Not the baritone it had been when addressing Phillip.

  “If you’re going to kill me just do it.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you. That’s what got us into this mess,” he said, shooting a nasty glance at a small trash can against the opposite wall. She knew where Phillip was now. The thought of him in pieces made her green.

  “Sit,” he ordered. Her body sat, putting her hands in her lap. Trying to stand, she found she couldn’t. Nancy shook her head and glared at him. He rested his elbow on his knee and his head in his hand.

  “I want to apologize. I was about to have him when he caught your scent. For a moment I thought he was onto me, but then he stumbled out after you. Which is curious, because you’re not his normal taste. Phillip liked dainty, pretty little things. You’re far too big and broad. No offense intended.”

  Nancy shot him her nastiest look, which made him chuckle. He said he wouldn’t hurt her, but he had just killed a man and she was the only witness.

  “Also, you resisted him. He liked easy game, since control was never his gift. You see, Phillip was a bloodhound. He could tell people apart by their smell even if they weren’t in the same room,” he said, tapping his nose before leaning his head on this finger. “Which brings us to why he went after you. This close, I understand. Your child’s scent is... intoxicating. What is it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what is it? Is it human? Was the father human?”

  “Of course, she’s human. What else would she be?”

  He regarded her for some time until a buzz in her purse drew his attention. She was late for dinner. She was never late, and they were trying to find her. She looked up and his was smile gone.

  “Give me your phone.” She opened her purse and handed it over, despite how she struggled not to. He flipped it opened, pressing a few buttons.

  “This is who you were heading to?”

  “Yes,” she said, without thinking. “Don’t hurt them.”

  He gave her a wounded look as he shook his head.

  “I’m not going to hurt them. Or you. I would have liked to talk longer, but we need to get you on your way,” he said, looking her over.

  “You’ve just killed someone and you’re going to let me go?”

  “If only that fool were dead,” he said with a chuckle. “But yes, I’m letting you go.”

  “Why?”

  “The last thing we need is another rich socialite missing or dead. That fool drew enough attention with the chemist’s wife. This should put an end to it.”

  A shiver ran down her back. Phillip was the one who killed Nadia. He put her phone back in her purse and knelt, taking one of her shoes off.

  “That still doesn’t explain why you’re letting me go.” He looked up to her, his brows drawn together. He stood up, holding her shoe, and shook his head.

  “Are you always this stubborn? Do you want to die? You and your daughter?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are you so bent on it?”

  “Because it makes little sense! Telling me all this and then letting me go.”

  “Ahhh,” he nodded, tapping her heel in the palm of his hand. “That’s a simple answer. You won’t remember.”

  “What?”

  “Well, as I said, my dear, we all have our gifts,” he said, giving her shoe a loving stare. “Gods, these are gorgeous. I’m very sorry about this.”

  Holding the toe of her shoe, he winced as he snapped the heel where it met the upper. It remained attached, but would be dangerous to walk on.

  “What are you doing?” Nancy asked.

  He ignored her question and knelt, putting it back on her foot.

  “Yuo see, Phillip’s gift was his nose. Mine, is control,” he said with a smile that tumbled her out of the driver’s seat and into the endless abyss of his eyes.

----------------------------------------

  It had been a mad dash after finding out Martine and Bina were stuck in town for an emergency layover. Finding a dress that didn’t make her look horrible and getting dressed had taken far longer that Nancy wanted, but she was finally on her way. They would have to forgive her for being a little sweaty. De Fazio’s was only six blocks away, but it was a gross night and she was already late.

  She crossed 7th and as she mounted the curb, her ankle twisted, pitching her sideways. Nancy got her hands out but landed hard in a lump on the sidewalk.

  “Ooh shit! Are you okay?!” someone yell behind her. As she pushed herself up and sat, a tall man knelt over her, his bald head glowing from the street lights. “Are you all right?” His voice was high and flowery.

  “I think so,” Nancy said, looking herself over. Her side and ankle hurt, but she seemed fine beyond that. Looking down, she found the culprit; one of her heels had broken.

  “Let’s get you to the seat,” he said, nodding toward the bus stop and holding his hands out. “Can you stand?”

  “Yes.”

  He helped her up, and when she faltered because of the broken shoe, he looped an arm around her waist.

  “Is this okay?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  He walked, more carried her over to the bus stop with little effort. His thin frame was deceptively strong. He sat her on the bus stop and dropped beside her. He was a handsome man, albeit extravagant.

  His makeup, while heavy, was expertly crafted: sharp cheek lines with exaggerated eye shadow and liner around gorgeous dark eyes. He held a small clutch with painted nails. His tight leather pants tucked into shiny shin high platform boots. A tube top under a silk chiffon blouse. She noticed his one sleeve was torn and bloody.

  “Did I do that?” Nancy asked.

  He glanced down and shook his head.

  “No. We’re both having a night. A couple blocks back, some crazy hobo burst out of the alley and accosted me. Talking about ‘gimme some change!’ as he’s pulling on my sleeve.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “No. I tried to be polite and just walk away. I get that their just down on their luck. But then he yanks me around and tore my sleeve, so I knocked his ass out.” After a moment he sighed, looking back to the tattered, blood flecked silk. “I’ve had this longer than I can remember. This is old chiffon. You can’t get this anymore.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. If anything, I need to apologize to you.”

  “What? Why?”

  “For being catty. When I saw you I thought, ‘she knows better than to be wearing those high ass shoes as pregnant as she is.’ Then I heard you fall. I hope I didn’t manifest anything.”

  Nancy chuckled and shook her head.

  “I think you’re innocent.” She took the broken shoe off, rotating it in her hands. “I was in a hurry and should have chosen something more sensible.”

  “You could take mine,” he said, raising a leg to show off the boot he wore. “But they don’t really match your dress.

  “Thank you, but then you wouldn’t have shoes."

  He waved his hand at her and sucked his teeth.

  “My dear, I’ve spent most of my life shoeless. One more night wouldn’t kill me. Though, I don’t think these would do you any better. I’ve busted my ass more times than I care to admit, and I’m not carrying a passenger.”

  Nancy’s laugh at that was deep and genuine, but her mirth didn’t last long. When her purse vibrated, she fished for a moment before finding her phone.

  “Martine, yes, I’m on my way. I’m so sorry. I was in a hurry and I fell and... Yes, I’m fine. A nice gentleman helped me. No, you don’t ha- Martine, you don’t-“ Nancy's shoulders slumped as she sighed. “Come toward my building. We’re three blocks away at the bus stop. You don’t- yes ma’am. Thank you. See you soon.” Nancy shook her head and sighed before laying back against the bus stop. “She’s coming to get me.”

  A few minutes later, a sedan pulled up with its hazard flashers on. A tall woman, brunette hair pulled back in a ponytail, got out, rounded the car, and hurried over.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, taking Nancy’s hands.

  “Yes, yes. I’m fine. My pride’s more hurt than anything else.”

  “That’s how it goes,” the man said with a laugh.

  Martine glanced between him and Nancy, one eyebrow up.

  “He saw me fall and helped me over,” Nancy said to her before looking back to him. “My god, I’m so rude. What’s your name? I’m Nancy.”

  “Most know me as Ozzy,” he said as he bowed from the seat.

  “Thank you, Ozzy. I’d still be hobbling to the restaurant if it weren’t for you.”

  “Would you like to come to dinner with us?” Martine said.

  “Yes! Please,” Nancy said, putting her hand on his hand. “It’s the least I can do.”

  Khaba put one hand on his chest with an enormous smile.

  “You two are the sweetest, but I must decline. I’m performing tonight.” He stood, pulling two business cards out of his clutch. “If you ever want to see an amazing show. Come check us out. Tell em OzzyManDias sent you.”

  The black card was embossed with silver ‘Moonlighting Cabaret’ in gothic text.

  “I’ll take you up on that offer,” Nancy said, tucking the card in her purse. “Though I might wait until I can wear heels again.”

  It was Khaba’s turn for a genuine laugh. He put a hand on her shoulder.

  “All right, my dear, you’re in good hands. Ladies, enjoy your dinner. I’m off.”

  They watched him stride off into the night like he owned it. Martine helped Nancy up and into the car.

  “Bina’s not going to believe this,” she said with a massive grin as belted herself in. “I might make this my next book: ‘The construction queen and drag queen.’”

  Nancy’s deadpan stare only fueled her laughter as they pulled away from the curb.