The voices and the music and the sound of hundreds of bodies swaying to a single beat made the air in the bar feel thick and dark.

            The girl at the bar had kohl-rimmed eyes and overly light clothes. She drank shots with a grim determination.

            A man, tall with a heavy demonian slant in his eyes and shoulder bones, came over, whispered in her ear and ran a hand over her back. She listened and then shook him off. When he walked away she drank to the bottom of her drink with shaking hands. He walked away, trolling the bar for another one.

            “Another?” the bartender mouthed. The flashing lights above the bar bathed him in varied colors.

            She shook her head and paid without smiling.

            The night outside was balanced on the edge of cold. The damp seeped into everything, from stones to clothes. As the girl stepped into the darkness, she shivered and pulled her ragged jacket closer over her shoulders. Hovercars flew over the Lattice of interlocking roads that stretched above the ramshackle buildings of the Red Light District. Their distant roar made the lanterns shake on the dull, low buildings.

            The girl hunched over herself, as thought trying to shake the light off her face, and hurried out into the street.

            The district never sleeps, and has more light at midnight than the better districts have most of their day. There are scarlet lanterns in every window, and glows fixed in their iron cages above the more respectable establishments. But leaving Red Light leaved behind the glow of bright lamps and magic crystals. Soon, passing into the dark streets outside Red Light, you leave that all behind. Soon, the only light comes from the barred residential windows two or three stories above the cobbled streets.

            Foot-traffic thinned steadily, until the girl was one of the only people hurrying over the streets. The tension in her shoulders grew as the street darkened and she become more alone.

            Her bright red plastic skirt only went to mid-thigh and was slit seven inches higher. Set off by the dark, the skirt flashed in every dim light down the street. The jacket didn’t cover her entire chest. She shivered again, and her nipples pushed against her thin, low, high shirt. Her heels clicked with every step.

            It was surprising she made it four blocks into the bad side of town before the predators found her.

            The first one appeared like a shadow half a block behind her. He had long hair pulled back to show his pointed ear, and even drunk he moved like a cat. His eyes locked  on her and he seemed to follow the line between them, slowly picking up speed. The other two were mirror images in different sizes. They spread out and followed her.

            She turned at a corner and saw them. She did her best to hold herself steady, but a sudden tension in her shoulders tipped them off. The shadows sped up. The girl moved a little quicker.

            They continued for a block, with the girl’s staccato steps getting progressively faster, like a speeding heart; until finally she shook off her shoes in a burst of speed and broke away from them. They moved like they had been waiting for the moment. The three shadows took after her like hounds, predators alive for the chase.

            They were faster than she. She could hear their threefold stride taking ground at twice her speed and the breath began gasping in her throat. She took the first alley she could, making the turn tight. Her bare feet slapped the street.

            The saw her take the turn. They could almost taste her fear.

            As the three shadows turned the corner in tight formation, they were three hawks taking the final swoop on a pigeon.

            The alley grew narrower as it wound into the buildings. It never branched, but became tunnel-like as the walls to either side drew in and reached toward one another at the top. The girl’s panicked breathing and soft hurried steps bounced off the walls.

            The hunt ended as they all knew it would. The girl practically slammed into the dead end, the light from the unevenly spaced glows very dim. She dragged herself up by clawing at the stones and turned to meet her attackers. The reflection of her eyes showed them terror. The drank it in. the leader laughed.

            He swaggered forward, loosening his pants as he came. The girl clutched at her clothing, shaking with fear. She was making little noises that weren’t quite screams and weren’t quite whimpers.

            The leader got close enough to seize her arm in a bruising grip before he learned his mistake. In that moment, he saw the terror flicker out of her face like a burning out light.

            The next, he felt his wrist crack as clawed, grasping hands jerked him off her.

            The girl turned her back to the attackers and leaned against the wall. She let her heart and lungs slow, and then she straightened the clothes that had tangled in the fight. She rested her head on one arm and listened to the slaughter behind her.

            She heard the footsteps and turned. It was too dark to see far beyond the corner, but she could hear the soft sucking noises and the crunching. She could smell the copper.

            The man from the bar smiled at her, her expression making him look young and nervous. “Hey.”

            “Took you long enough,” she said. “Shoes?”

            He handed her the heels and she dangled them in one hand.

            “I could feel your fear,” he said.

            “That’s the point, Jake. If I didn’t act scared the predators would never hunt. I’ve got to make it real. How much did we get?”

            “I could feel your fear, Christa. That wasn’t just projection. You’ve never been that afraid. I’m sorry.”

            “Maybe you’ve never been close enough to feel it, maybe you’re getting more sensitive. But watch it, Jake. The boys are within earshot. It’s just an act, and I’m fine, and I don’t mind playing bait. How much did we get?”

            The demonian man reached into his pocket and came out with a handful of cash chits. He counted them quickly. “About forty.”

            “Dinner for me, at least, and another week’s rent. How are the boys?”

            Jake looked over. The crunching sounds had stopped. “They should be good for another couple of weeks.” Three twisted, vaguely human forms approached from the darkness. They were slightly taller than Christa and wider. They had tried to wipe the blood off their faces and claws, but it still glistened in the cracks of their scales.

            One yawned loudly, cracking his huge dog-like jaw. “Thank you, Chrishta,” he said in a low, slurred voice.

            She smiled and kissed each of them goodnight. They vanished into the shadows more quickly than their ungainly bulk should have allowed.

            The smile dropped when Christa turned back to the man. “How are you?”

            Jake nodded. “ I fed before they died.”

            “And you fed from me before the boys brought them down.”

            “I’m sorry, Christa.”

            “Tell me, Jake, are you going to hold them off a shade too long some day because I taste too damn good?”

            “Never! I swear.”

            She stared at him with angry, narrowed eyes. Then she pulled on her shoes. “Just remember what I am for you, Jake. Bring me home.”

            Nothing is wasted under the Shield. The boys had taken their victims’ clothing with them when they went. Tomorrow, Christa would clean it and add it to the quilts she and her younger sister made. Tonight, there was nothing left of her attackers but a brackish stain and a couple heavier bones.

            Outside of the alley, the windows shone. The two walked slowly, casually, down the street and into the well-lit subway. Anyone watching saw a prostitute and her protection. They weren’t close enough to see their eyes.