Four of a Kind

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews guys! I'm really enjoying hearing what you have to say and it really encourages me to keep writing. I honestly have no idea where this is going, but I hope you all like it. I just thought Harley Quinn needed an injection of sarcasm, smarts, and well... balls. Anyway... I'll shut up now..



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“… it appears to be the work of Gotham’s own Master of Fear, the Scarecrow. Traces of the drug known only as ‘fear toxin’ were found at The Shadow Lounge. The victims, at first thought to be dead by the police, were given a massive dose of the drug which rendered them unconscious and-- even stranger-- unable to speak…”



“A little early for you isn’t it, Dr. Quinzel?” The early morning security guard tipped his hat as she passed by, unnoticing. He shrugged and turned the radio he’d been listening to back up.



She limped with a quick pace down the front corridor and into the elevator. Her blonde waves zigzagged out from head and bounced as she walked. She was still wearing the same clothes from the night before, only this time they were torn and stained in several places. One shoe was missing a heel and she nearly twisted her ankle as she quickly stomped down the corridor. She’d thrown her glasses aside and her blue eyes were bloodshot and wild. She shoved her key into the elevator door hard and smiled sweetly at a waiting passenger as she let the door shut in his face.



When the doors opened again, she was in the high security ward, this time the lights bright with the breaking day. Orderlies and guards buzzed around the hallways. Lunatics screamed and howled as they refused food and medication. Some claiming that they were ill, others hissing sick, disgusting thoughts at her as she walked past. She stopped an orderly who rushed to one room. “They need you on the intake floor,” she whispered. Suddenly inspired, she saw the red box on the wall marked “EMERGENCY.” The screaming alarm and flashing lights would alert everyone to the emergency room upstairs. She broke the glass with her fist and pressed the alarm. The screams from the inmates were deafening, but everyone stopped and looked at her, being the only doctor on the floor. “They need your help upstairs!” she shouted at them. “Stop standing there gaping and get your asses up to intake!” She watched as they scattered, emptying the floor in minutes. She glanced down at her torn lab coat and noticed that her ID badge was still attached. She ripped it from the pocket that still hung by a thread. She gripped it in her hand and walked down the corridor with purpose until she reached the cell at the end.



The Joker stood in the center of his cell as if he knew she was coming. “What happened to you?” he asked casually as she approached. “You look like hell…”



“Shut up,” she rasped, going to the door at the side of the cell. She swiped the keycard on the back of her ID, stumbling to stay upright. When the light turned green, she could hear the locking mechanisms break free. She had to push her shoulder against the steel door to open it. Surprisingly, he didn’t run for the door as she had expected, he only stood there watching her expectantly. “Well… aren’t you going to leave?”



“My head is spinning…” he laughed. “What brought on this little change of heart?”



“You have three minutes.” Her voice was dull and weary.



“Three minutes to what?” He looked confused. For the first time, someone had actually surprised him.



“Three minutes until they figure out that this door is open and come running.”



She turned and walked out. She didn’t stop to look back as she walked away, hearing the security guards tromp down the stairwells and run towards the high security wing. She tossed her ID badge in the nearest trashcan as she exited the building. They would know that she had pulled the alarm and let The Joker out. But they wouldn’t understand why. She wasn’t really sure herself. The truth is, she’d been studying him with a growing fascination since way before he’d been brought in two nights ago. The voices didn’t have to tell her to do that. Deep down, she’d known they’d always been there. The world was a far more interesting place with him in it. Not locked up in a cage.



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Siren laid across the bed, surrounded by piles of cash. She giggled and pretended to swim. “I just can’t believe we pulled it off.”



“Why not? Did you doubt my genius?”



“Not for one second. But an entire club full of people. They dropped like stones. Though I think my favorite part was when they all went silent. They wanted to scream, but nothing would come out. It felt good…” she purred.



He laughed and crawled into the bed atop her. “You felt powerful, didn’t you?”



“Like a goddess,” she hissed. She stretched up to him, capturing his lips with hers. Their mouths moved together, each one fighting for domination.



He pulled away, leaving her pleading and panting. “You are a goddess. You can make anyone do anything you want--”



“With your help,” she purred.



“They just needed a little push.” He smiled down at her again. For once in complete adoration. He had suspected that her little talent was far beyond what he had hoped, but after what he saw tonight, He wasn’t sure that she would even have needed the toxin for help. Those people were entranced before she even pressed the valve. Their little experiment hadn’t yielded much cash-- after all, the patrons of The Shadow Lounge were hardly Gotham’s privileged. But it was a start. Soon they could walk into banks and the tellers would just hand over the cash. And this could go far beyond just money. No longer would he be reduced to selling cranked out versions of fear toxin to junkies and dealers. He and his little creation could sit back and watch Gotham descend into chaos.



“Will they be permanently damaged?”



“Who knows. Who cares?” He purred and pulled her nightly dosage from the drawer beside the bed. With a gentle push of the plunger, the syringe spewed a few drops of the strange mixture across her bare stomach, running into the hollow of her bellybutton. She giggled and squirmed.



“That’s cold.”



He smirked and bent over, licking the thick, bitter liquid from her skin. She shivered and tried to breath evenly as he cleaned the medicine from her body. With a slight press of his thumb, the medicine overflowed the cup of her navel and ran down the curve of her belly to the top of her sex. He caught it quickly, his tongue barely brushing the sensitive flesh. She responded eagerly, letting one leg fall to the side, exposing the purply blue vein. Her last dose was starting to wane and the voices were already beginning to whisper in her ear. He ran his fingertips down her thigh lightly. Her muscles jerked involuntarily, so hard that he had to hold her leg down against the bed to keep her still. “I wouldn’t want to make you bleed.” He tapped two fingers over the vein, making it pop up. As he rubbed over the site with an alcohol pad, she arched her hips up to him eagerly. He pressed the tip of the needle against her skin until it slid into the vein. She hissed through her teeth and bit her lip at the sting. He was so good at this now that she didn’t fear a large, angry bruise. Even as she whimpered at the sickly viscous medicine pumping into her vein, he soothed her pain by rubbing the thumb of his free hand over the opening of her sex. The sensation caused a seamless mixture of pleasure and pain. When the liquid had emptied slowly into her, he pulled the needle out quickly and sealed the wound with his lips. The small drop of blood that had come to the surface tasted bitter in his mouth.



Siren groaned softly, relaxing immediately into the druggish warmth. She seemed to float as he settled himself between her legs and began to lap lazily at the opening of her sex. Tonight she was a goddess, capable of the impossible, and she would be worshipped as such. A creation that may someday surpass even himself.



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Harley sat in her apartment, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a glass of ice in the other. A cold rain fell outside, but she kept the window open anyway, the freezing wind cutting into her over and over. The voices were still there, but dull now as she tried to drown them with the alcohol. The police had come earlier, but she wouldn’t open the door. She’d hidden in the closet, pretending that she wasn’t there. She knew they’d be back, but she wasn’t sure what to do. She knew that she could never go back now. She would have to leave Gotham. But where would she go. She had no family, no friends. She started to laugh, at first softly, then increasingly more maniacal. She laughed until tears were dripping from the corners of her eyes and her stomach hurt. “He was right,” she giggled. “I am alone.”



“I know why you scream at night.”



She tried to ignore the whispers. The soft voices crept into her ears, making her skin crawl. She was a psychiatrist for God’s sake. Couldn’t she see what was happening to her? The stress. It was too much. Just ignore them and they would pass. A temporary hallucination.



“Was it mommy or daddy…”



“Just stop it!” she screamed. She had promised that she would never think of them again. She pounded her forehead with her fists. “Go away!”



“Haaaarrrrrllleeeeeyyyyy…”



With a shaking hand, she poured the remainder of the whisky into the glass and drank it with a single gulp. She threw the glass against the wall and watched it shatter, some of the pieces splattering in her face, leaving shallow cuts. She didn’t seem to feel them as she let the bottle fall to the side and she crawled across the room. The Joker’s case file was lying open on the coffee table. She pulled it into her lap and looked through it again, tossing aside all of his admission papers and police reports. She found his mugshot and stared at it carefully, studying the nuances and wondering if she would ever encounter him again. She knew that if she did, he would probably kill her. Maybe that was what she wished for. Anything to make the voices stop. And for just that moment this morning-- the moment he spoke to her-- they were quiet.



She gasped as a rapping on her door broke her inner conversation. She put a finger over her lips to shush herself. “Dr. Quinzel! It’s the police, please open the door!”



“Oh shit,” she mouthed in the darkness. She hadn’t really expected them to come back so soon.



More banging on the door. “Dr. Quinzel! We have a warrant. We need to ask you some questions about the breakout at Arkham.” She could hear the officers talking amongst themselves. She rolled her eyes. If only those stupid voices would tell her what to do right now. They’d throw her in Arkham next if she didn’t get away from them quick. Suddenly, the idea dawned on her. She saw the fire escape out of the corner of her eye and headed for it. She wore only a teeshirt and boxer shorts as she started crawling out the window, but there was no time to change. No time, even, to put on her shoes. She tried to climb as quietly as possible, but when her foot hit a rusty screw, she cried out in pain as it sliced into her heel. She clung to the ladder as it fell down, sending her plummeting towards the street. It stopped short and spilled her onto the asphalt below. She could see the lights of the police cars out in front of her building and she didn’t want to alert them further, so she took off through the alley, the voices in her head only telling her to run.



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Harley was ten blocks away before she stopped running. She shivered in the cold of Gotham’s autumn. She couldn’t go back to her apartment, the police would never leave her alone now. She was sure that they knew that she was the one who let him out. She’d left her badge right there. And it would show her number as being the last one scanned. Oh well. She couldn’t bring herself to care much. She didn’t know where she’d go. She couldn’t just walk into a shelter. Not to mention that she was only half-dressed. But half-dressed is always better than naked. Maybe she could sneak back into her apartment tonight.



She came to the end of the alley and looked right and left. She could continue down the street and circle back to her apartment to wait for the police to leave or she could keep winding through the alleyways in an attempt to find a safe house. “Stay out of sight,” the voice beckoned. She obeyed, continuing down the next alley. She shivered again as it started to rain and she wanted to stay as close to the buildings as possible. She walked quickly, seeing shards of glass sparkle on the ground and being careful not to step on them. She was already limping, the cut on her heel throbbing.



“Hey, sweetheart… you lost?”



Harley stopped dead in her tracks as she heard the low, threatening voice behind her. She turned and saw a grungy looking man leaning against the wall, looking at her with an animalistic hunger. He wore dirty, torn jeans and a rounded belly hung over the top encased in a too tight grungy teeshirt that read “Keep Smiling.” She took a deep breath, remembering all those self-defense classes she’d had in school, and kept walking.



“Hey… come here. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He stepped out of the shadows and smiled menacingly. “What’s a little girl like you doing out here all alone.”



“Keeping away from boys like you,” she purred, turning around to look the man in the eye.



“Why you want to stay away from boys like us?” As he said this, she could see several other men step out of the shadows, surrounding her. “We’re just lookin’ out for ya. Lots of crazies runnin’ around out here.”



“Yeah, and those are just the police department--” she whispered. She was in trouble. She turned to face her attacker and took a defensive stance. “You just stay away from me.”



The men laughed collectively. “No need to be rude.” The speaker moved closer, backing her up against the wall. “Rude little girls like you need to learn some manners.”



“And I suppose you think you’re going to teach me.”



“Oh yeah--” He started towards her and she pounced. With one lithe movement, she scratched her attacker across the face, leaving four red and bleeding lines under his eye. He gasped and stumbled back, stunned that she would attack first. “You’re going to pay for that one, bitch.” He reached out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards him. He breathed stale alcohol breath into her face. “And you will bleed.”



“I don’t think so,” she growled and reared back, smashing her head into his forehead brutally. He stumbled backwards again and two of his friends ran at her, grabbing each arm as if trying to pull her apart. The leader stood up and shook his head, trying to clear it. As he came towards her, she could see that he had a knife. It sparkled in the moonlight as he came closer.



“It’s been fun playing your game little girl, but now its time to get serious.” He raked the knife down her body, ripping her shirt open and leaving a line of blood from sternum to navel. The other men gawked and growled. Her chest was exposed to them and she could feel the other man’s hands on her as he hissed sleazily. She decided to resort to more conventional means of defense and screamed. The men only laughed. The leader smiled, showing a gold tooth, and punched her in the face. “Shush shush, little girl. We wouldn’t want to bring out the Batman.”



“Or something worse,” a rasping voice purred from behind him. He barely had time to feel the steel of the barrel against his neck before his head exploded all over Harley. She screamed again as the two men holding her dropped her arms. She sank to the pavement, fainting.



The other two men stepped back, their hands raised over their heads in surrender. “We don’t want any trouble with you, man.” When he stepped into the light, they recognized the white face paint and the grotesque grin. It was enough to make them drop their weapons.



“Too late.” In a heartbeat, he had shot one and nailed the other between the eyes with a quick flick of a knife blade. He laughed, reaching down and pulling the knife out of the man’s forehead. When he heard the pop of the skull releasing the blade, he laughed harder. “Stupid motherfucker…” he cackled, kicking the body. Bending down, he wiped the blade, caked with blood and a grayish substance he could only assume was the man’s brain, on the “Keep Smiling” shirt. He cocked his head to one side and looked down at the leader of this little band of miscreants. He laughed and looked over at the unconscious Harley. “I guess your beauty made him lose his head.” He had to sit down on the pavement, holding his side and vibrating with laughter, “Made him lose his head…” He could see that the leader had already been preparing himself for the main event, as his fly was already open and his belt buckle unclasped. He made a face and rolled his eyes. “You should thank me for killing you before she saw that, you sick fuck… talk about jokes…”



He rose to his feet and went over to the crumpled pile that was Harley. He looked down at her, a line of blood running down her cheek from the corner of her mouth. He looked around uneasily. Of course if the Batman decided to show up now, it would be most inconvenient. For one thing, he’d take all the credit for rescuing her. And then insist that he’d been behind the attempt to ravish the poor girl. Not that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. Well, he supposed it’d be best not leave her here. Wouldn’t want anyone damaging her further. That pleasure would be reserved for him.



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“She doesn’t remember anything?” Commissioner Gordon shook his head as he walked down the corridor at Mount Ararat Hospital. “Is this permanent?”



“It could be,” Dr. Elliot sighed, scratching his head. “We can’t be sure of the side effects of the toxin. Different people involved in the incident have had different reactions. Some woke up this morning with no memory of the events and none the worse for wear. Others’ conditions have deteriorated into madness. One woman left this morning, still mute and obviously distraught. We have no way of knowing the long-term effects.”



“One of the witnesses said that they overheard this girl talking to the masked singer. He said it sounded like they knew each other. If that’s true than we need this girl to give us some clues to go on--”



“I understand, Commissioner, but I can’t make her remember. I can only give you my medical opinion.”



Gordon nodded clapped the other man on the shoulder. “Thanks, Doctor. Just call me if she starts to talk.”

Gordon emerged into the bright sunlight and was immediately accosted by news crews.



“Commissioner Gordon… do you think that last night’s attack at The Shadow Lounge was related to Joker’s escape from Arkham Asylum?”



“Anything is possible. We’re exploring all possible leads.”



“Is it true that everyone inside the club was gassed with fear toxin?”



“It would seem so, yes…”



“Does that mean that Gotham’s super-villains might be banding together?”



“I wouldn’t count on it.”



“Has the police department consulted the Batman about these events?”



“It is the policy of the Gotham City Police Department to arrest Batman on sight.” He shook his head and let the uniformed officers usher him into his car.



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Darcy giggled as she clicked the television off. “So they think that we were working for The Joker,” she shouted over her shoulder.



“Fascinating,” Jonathan replied disinterestedly as he sat down on the couch reading a book. “I’m surprised that man can get out of his own way.”



“What do you mean?”



“Someone that presents with a psychosis like that would have to be a sociopath to such an extreme that he would be completely unable to function.”



“Maybe he’s not that crazy.”



“Maybe you’re just a little too interested,” he snarled, looking up over the corner of the book, the one cold blue eye staring intently at her.



“I’m not interested,” she mumbled, sitting back on the chair, throwing her legs over the side. “Maybe I’m just concerned for the well-being of our city.” She smirked, batting her eyelashes.



“Uh huh. Maybe a side effect of your medicine is hyper-sexualism.”



“I love it when you’re jealous.” She giggled and threw a piece of ice at him.



“Don’t start a fire you can’t control.” He tried to sound threatening, but he couldn’t stop the smile that was threatening to break through. “You might bite off more than you can chew.”



“You should know by now that I’ve never bitten off too much.” She winked playfully and tried to walk past him to the kitchen. He grabbed the back of her pants and pulled her down onto the couch with him. She purred and draped her arms around his neck. He leaned over her and kissed her mouth deeply. Their tongues twined together as they breathed into one another. “This is so unlike you,” she sighed as he pulled away. She giggled. “What has gotten into you?”



He stared down at her intently, narrowing his gaze. He ran his fingers through her hair, marveling at the stark whiteness. “You’re so beautiful… it’s a crime that no one sees it but me.”



“What are you talking about?”



“I stole you. From everyone. My own pet. My own creation.”



“You’re scaring me, Jonathan.”



“Am I? Perhaps I just feel some remorse.” His expression turned to a threatening grin, his eyes like ice focusing on her face, making her want to look away, but he gripped her jaw in his fingertips, forcing her gaze. “Perhaps its time to let the world know about you.”



She purred. “I’m ready when you are. What will we hit tonight? A bank? How about a jewelry store?!” her eyes widened in pleading.



“No, love. I’m not just talking about a couple of mindless security guards. I’m talking about the world.”

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When Harley awakened, it was storming. She could see the lightning ripping the sky, yet to her surprise, she wasn’t outside anymore. She could hear strange music coming from somewhere far away. She tried to sit up, but something was holding her back by her wrists. She tried not to think of it, but only concentrated on the warmth that had enveloped her. Her jaw ached where the man in the alley had punched her. The voices seemed to be calm at the moment and for that she was grateful, no matter what sort of predicament she would find herself in later.



As her eyes adjusted to the dim light cast by the lightning in the room, she could see that she was in some sort of bedroom. The bed she lay in was huge and the covers piled on top of her were thick. She snuggled under them and found that she could move her arms around as long as she didn’t try to get up. She pushed the covers off of her chest and noticed that she was completely naked, as well as being shackled to the bed. “Oh fuck…” she mouthed to herself. She didn’t have her glasses, so everything was a little blurry, but she didn’t appear to be in any danger. With the possible exception of the fact that she was apparently chained to this bed. She gasped when the thunder rumbled around her again, shaking the windows to her right. Where the hell was she? The music that kept floating into the room wasn’t helping. She could only catch snatches, but it sounded like some kind of smooth jazz from the 1940s. It was eerie and she could swear that it just kept repeating over and over. Suddenly she heard footsteps in the hall and she pulled the covers up to her chin again. When she heard the doorknob turn, she closed her eyes. Whoever this was that held her captive might go away if he believed that she were asleep.



A blade of light sliced through the room, lighting up her face. She’d been asleep all day-- from late the night before until now. He supposed it was to be expected. Given that she had probably not slept in two days. While waiting for her to awaken, the Joker had been intently watching Gotham City News. Apparently they were trying to pin the Shadow Lounge on him now. Dirty leeches… always looking for a scapegoat. At least he could see it. That idiot in the bat suit hadn’t figured that one out yet. But he’d find out for himself soon enough. And he couldn’t say that his pal Joker hadn’t tried to warn him. He sat down in a chair beside the bed and watched her pretend to sleep. He knew that she was pretending. Her breathing was no longer even and soft. He could almost hear her heartbeat speed up as he approached. But he would play along. He sighed and threw his feet up on the edge of the bed. He pulled a pocket watch from the dressing table and stared at the time. He rolled his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall with a thud. “Oww… fuck…”



The effect was so comical that Harley had to bite the covers to keep from laughing as she heard him exclaim. He began to hum along with the strange music and she could hear him playing with the watch. The rasp in his voice made her blood run cold as she suddenly realized where she was. And who she was with. She wished she could vanish. Of course, she reasoned, if he wanted to kill her then he could have done it by now. Yet he just sat there watching her. What possible reason…



He started to bounce his foot on the edge of the bed until her teeth were rattling. She opened one eye and sat up slightly.



“Oh… you’re… awake.”



She started to respond, but groaned when she tried to speak. The throbbing in her jaw making her whimper. “Where am I?” She looked at him, still partially hidden in shadows, and shuddered, remembering she was naked. “And where are my clothes?”



“No need to get your panties all in a twist,” he drawled. “I was a perfect gentleman the whole time.” He stepped into the light and she could see that his face was devoid of the slapsdash painted mask that he usually donned. He did, in fact, look as if he’d just come out of the shower. The effect was a bit disturbing. Unexpected and disturbing. The scars, so highlighted by the makeup, looked tragic and sad against his skin. He was once an attractive man before this had been done to him. She felt a twinge of sympathy.



“Why did you bring me here? To finish what those men in the alley started?” Her voice quivered, but for some reason, she didn’t feel as if she had reason to fear just yet.



“Poor, simple-minded Harley. Now why would I bring you here for that? If I’d wanted to rape you, I could have done that in the street. Or yesterday morning at Arkham. Besides…one can‘t rape the willing.”



“Then unshackle me--” She chose to ignore his last remark.



“All in time, pet,” he laughed. He went around to one side of the bed and flopped down beside her, crossing his feet and staring at her. “But first, I just wanted to ask you one question.”



She shied away from him, trying not to fall off of the bed as he got closer. She felt like a rabbit caught in the lions’ den at the zoo. She tried to make herself small and unnoticeable. She couldn’t help but flinch when he put an arm around her shoulder. “What?” she replied, breathlessly.



“Why… why did you let me out?”



“I’m not sure. They just… they were so… and I was so tired…” Her words came out in a mangled jumble. “I just couldn’t think…”



He laughed again. “It was really very touching. Destroying your career for little old me.”



“I didn’t do it for you!” she snapped.



“Oooh… testy.”



“Some of us have scars on the inside,” she whispered. She looked him in the face for the first time. Her eyes memorized the contours and distortions. He wouldn’t surprise her again. “And those are deeper.” She reached out to touch them, her curiosity getting the best of her.



He slapped her hand away. “Don’t--”



It was her turn to laugh. “Sensitive?”



Though he smiled pleasantly, his eyes were cold and menacing. “Careful not to go to far, pet,” he snarled.



Harley struggled to a sitting position, trying to navigate the shackles around her wrists and keep the sheet from falling down and exposing her. She giggled again as her foot got stuck in the blanket. “I’m not scared. If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it already.” She hoped she sounded more sure than she was.



“Consistency is not my strong suit.”



“And on that note--” She reclined on the bed, rolling to her side and looking up at him. “Why did you save me? I would have thought watching those men rape me would be exciting for you.”



He snorted and pushed his hair out of his face. “I’m not a voyeur. As you may have noticed, I’m more into action--”



“So we can add rape to your growing list of crimes.”



“I didn’t say that.”



“So you’ve never raped a woman--”



“I didn’t say that either.”



“But not me--”



“Not yet.” He sighed and licked the corner of his mouth absently. “But the night is still young and I wouldn’t want you to think you weren’t good enough for me.”



The cool and overly-pleasant way in which he spoke was so strange. It had haunted her dreams since first hearing it on the news. It both frightened and excited her. She wanted him to keep talking. She wondered if he’d always been this way or if something had made him snap. Questions kept popping into her head and they would almost find their way to her lips, but she thought it best to keep them to herself. Deciding that she wasn’t going to ask anymore questions he stood up and pulled the covers back.



Every muscle in her body locked and she drew up under the covers, nearly toppling off the other side of the bed. “What are you doing?!”



He looked at her as if she were the one who’d lost her mind. “Going to sleep. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that bad guys sleep too? Why… right now…I’m sure that even that guy with the potato sack on his head is sleeping. Him and his wench.”



She watched him wordlessly as he threw his shirt to the side and got comfortable. Scars littered his shoulders and back and angry purple bruises blotched his pale skin here and there. She wondered which ones were courtesy of the Batman. He had strength in his arms, that much was clear. And the muscles in his back stood out as he shifted and turned. Her stomach turned as she thought of the exercise he’d been getting with those arms.



Harley took a deep breath and sank back down into the covers, staring at the ceiling. She tried hard not to breathe or make even the slightest sound. Her muscles ached from lying so still. The shackles around her wrists were heavy, making it impossible to get comfortable again. She wanted to roll over on her stomach, but the chains weren’t quite long enough and she was afraid that the rattling would wake the beast beside her. She didn’t stir again all night. But she didn’t sleep either. How could she. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see his face staring down at her, lying in wait to slit her throat as she slept. But she supposed it was like staring down a rabid dog. If you showed any fear, it would surely attack. So she’d just have to keep pretending he didn’t scare the hell out of her.



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