By George Woodruff

Part 12

The taxi dropped them off at Steven's place. He was aware that they had been followed, but the wolf pack had kept the leeches at bay long enough to discourage their following. Their preoccupation with the task had prevented them, he'd hoped, from noticing his own touches to the situation. If it worked, what anyone who was watching would have seen at any of the myriad levels (but one) was the Taxi stop outside a pharmacy, Steven go in and then get back into the cab. The taxi driver didn't even realise that he idled there longer then necessary and drive away to a destination two blocks away, where to his senses the couple he'd picked up at the club exited his cab and enter a building.

He took Susan up to his apartment and helped her to the sofa. She was still rather shaken up and crying. He got her a drink of water and when he sensed that she still needed him close by, sat and cuddled her like a child. He let her cling to him, as great sobs wracked her until they subsided and she heaved a deep breath.

"Feeling a bit better?" he asked.

"Somewhat," she lied. He looked at her but didn't contradict her.

"What can I get for you to make you feel better?" he continued.

"I don't know, I feel so dirty." She looked at him and then looked away.

"What is it, what can I do for you?" he asked.

"Well," she hesitated, looking at the bathroom, then back at him.

"If you want to know if you can have a bath to get cleaned up, don't ask, do. Go on, I'll get you some towels and a change of clothes." Relief flooded her features as he surmised her desire. "Here, come with me!" and he led her up to his bedroom loft and proceeded to get out a bath sheet and towel and then a t-shirt and some drawstring cotton pants. "There you go, just toss your things out and I'll wash and mend them for you." Susan was nearly ecstatic at this then looked at her clothes and then at him.

"Um, even these rips?" she asked sarcastically, indicating the shredded state of her camisole and blouse.

"Trade secret." He smiled at her. "Now go and have your hot soak." Then he added "I'll even get you a glass of wine if you like, red, white or rosé?"

"Rosé, if you please," she said bemusedly.

"Certainmont mademoiselle! that can be arranged," he said as ushered her into the bathroom.

She listened as he headed down stairs to get her the wine. She turned on the taps and began to undress as the hot water sluiced into the tub. Steam filled the air and moisture dewed the mirror. She looked at herself in its slowly occluding surface. The humidity of the enclosed space made her hair heavy and extra curly, a sheen settling on her skin from the mist. She jumped with a brief yelp of surprise as Steven knocked at the door. She quickly wrapped herself in the bath sheet before opening the door. He had one hand over his eyes, the other holding forth a goblet of pink liquid. She gathered up her clothes and exchanged them for the wine. Before she could close the door though he asked her a question.

"Would you like me to make you anything to eat? Or is your stomach unsettled?"

"No, thank you, I'm fine for now," she answered. He turned about before removing his hand from his eyes and then proceeded down stairs. She closed the door and dropping the towel on the floor, set the wine goblet down on the toilet lid before stepping into the tub. She let the water run a little longer, before she closed the taps and taking a sip of wine, she settled back to let the heat soothe the tremors in her body.

Steven took her clothes and examined the tattered rages that were her blouse and camisole. He laid them flat upon his workbench and rearranged them as if they were puzzles. When he had them resembling as much of their original state as possible he began his craft. With nimble fingers he plucked unseen threads from the air and wove them. Before him the two garments became obscured by a blur as minute ethereal spiders crawled at breakneck speed over them, transforming the ravaged rags from expensive dust cloths to whole garments again. Within minutes both items were repaired and Steven looked down at them through multifaceted eyes. Within each facet, he saw, not multiple views of the same scene but multiple scenes of the same view. He examined each piece of clothing for structural weakness and flaws and repaired any he encountered, even those that had existed from the time of manufacture. Finally each garment satisfied his inspection and with Susan's panties, socks and jeans, were placed in his washer and cleaned.

Susan was towelling off when he took her things from the washer and as she descended from the bathroom, dressed in his t-shirt and drawstrings, her hair up in a towel turban, he was putting them into the dryer.

"I'm sorry," she apologised.

"Why?" he responded.

"For how our night has turned out. And for this next thing." She looked shamefacedly at him.

"You're hungry aren't you?" he asked rhetorically. She nodded bashfully. "Not a problem, something hot or just something right now?"

"Whichever is easiest?" she replied.

"How about hot and quick, I've got some of those brown and serve cinnamon rolls." And he smiled at the look in her eyes. "I take that look to be a 'yes'."

"So now you're clairvoyant?" she teased.

"So I'm told," he replied with a casual nonchalance. Susan followed him into the kitchen area, draining the last of the rosé. "Would you like some more?" he asked, indicating her empty goblet. She hesitated and then nodded her assent.

"You're not trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me are you?" she teased.

"Damn, my secret is out," he smiled back at her then added, "No, I could have done that while you were extremely vulnerable on the sofa." Susan almost audibly gulped at the blatant truth, but as he had his back turned to her, refilling her glass, she let it slide, presuming he was joking. He turned to face her with a filled goblet an affable smile upon his face. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll fix you something to eat right away."

She watched him for a moment and then wandered out into the main area of the loft. She toured about the place examining the décor and stopped by a window to look outside. It was then that she sensed someone watching the place, several in fact. She looked out the window and saw at least three individuals surveying the apartment.

'What do I do?' she thought to herself. 'I don't want to drag Steven into this sordid mess, whatever it is.' She saw something loom up behind her in the window's reflective surface and turned to see Steven walking towards her. He looked past her and swore softly under his breath. She looked at him with surprise. "You see them?" she stammered.

"Yeah, three on the street, two on the roof tops and one above us on the roof here." Susan looked up and then followed his eyes to where she could make out a hulking figure crouched atop the building they were in, reflected in a window opposite them.