“Bap baa, ladap ba de bopop,” Zig Zag sang, as she danced about inside the kitchen. At her waist was a silver CD player that had a wire running up to each ear where a small speaker plug was snugly nestled. Her body shifted and swayed as she moved to the music while at the same time washing bottles in the sink.

Losing herself in the music, she had it turned up loud enough that she never heard the front door open. The music faded for a moment as the songs changed, but the running water in the sink created enough background noise that she couldn’t hear the intruder as he walked from the entryway towards the kitchen.

As she finished with the last bottle, she placed it upside down in the drainer before turning the water off. Glancing up at the window, she saw someone enter the kitchen behind her, carrying something long in his right hand as he approached.

Zig Zag spun around with her claws out and snarled at the intruder for a moment before she realized it was James, who’d taken an involuntary step back at her reaction. Reaching up, she pulled the plugs from her ears as she let out a long breath, leaning heavily against the counter. “Christ on a stick, James! You scared the crap out of me! Why didn’t you make some noise when you came in?”

“I did,” James replied, setting a loaf of Italian bread on the table along with a white plastic bag, “but you were a little too pre-occupied with your music to hear me.”

Zig Zag let out a nervous laugh as she reached down and turned off the music player. “Sorry. It’s a new toy I picked up. I don’t like turning up the stereo because of the kits.”

“Yeah, well, be careful not to crank the volume up too loud,” the coyote cautioned, as he removed some take-out containers from the bag. “It’s a lot easier to hurt your ears with those things than with regular speakers.”

“Eh?” Zig Zag grunted, turning both ears to face James directly. “What was that?’

“I said…” James started to say but stopped, shooting Zig Zag a glaring look.

She pointed both fingers at James like guns and pulled the triggers. “Gotcha!”

“Very funny,” James replied flatly. “I’ll make a point of reminding you about it in another forty years when you’re wearing hearing aids in both ears and everyone has to yell at you to be understood.”

Zig Zag slid her arms around James and pulled him close to her. “Just as long as you’re still around in forty years to remind me about it,” she said, before giving him a long, deep, sensual kiss.

James smiled as their lips separated. “That was nice,” he said. “You haven’t kissed me like that in weeks.”

“Oh yeah?” she replied in a husky voice. “You know, there are a lot of things I haven’t done to you for weeks.” Shifting her weight, she forced James backwards a couple of steps until he was pinned against the wall while at the same time she gave him another kiss.

“What about dinner?” James asked, when again their lips parted. “It’ll get cold.”

Zig Zag gave him an impish smile and asked, “Which would you prefer cold, me or dinner?”

It wasn’t a hard decision.

Father Ramirez sat in the back seat of the police car as it raced down the highway. His arms crossed, he sat staring out the window at the passing terrain without really seeing it. The day’s events had unsettled him. Although he was no stranger to death, it always bothered him when people he knew were killed.

“Are you going to sit there and sulk all day?” Anatol asked from his seat on the other side of the car.

Paco looked over at Anatol for a second before returning his gaze back out the window.

Anatol let out a long sigh. “Have you so little faith in me?”

Paco’s head snapped around as he snarled at Anatol. “I thought you were dead!”

“Well I’m not!” Anatol snarled back. “You should know better than that! Why do you think I didn’t take off my frock?”

“Because you didn’t have time,” the elderly priest replied. “How was I supposed to know it was bulletproof? They didn’t have that kind of thing back in my day.” Shaking his head, he frowned as he studied his long time friend and one time student. “Ballistic weave, impact absorbing jells, carbon-fiber linings. We never had any of those things. In my day, the best we could do would be a flack jacket with those bulky ceramic plates in them.”

“If you hadn’t quit the brotherhood when you did, you’d know about them,” Anatol replied, shaking his head. “There was no reason for you to cut your ties completely the way you did.”

Paco sorrowfully shook his head. “You never did understand,” the priest said, in a low, sad voice. “The reason there aren’t a lot of old hunters still around is that the church tends to use them all up. When I realized that I was starting to slow down, I got out before it killed me.” He looked over at his friend with solemn eyes. “The way it’s gong to kill you, my son, if you don’t get out, too.”

Anatol shook his head as his face hardened. “No. Not until I kill that thing.”

“And then what?” Paco asked, putting a hand on his friend’s arm. “Once you kill this creature, then what? Will you finally retire? Do you really think the church will let you go so easily?”

“This creature?” Anatol asked, giving his friend a grim chuckle. “I’m not talking about this thing. This creature is small time compared to the demon from the Bronx.”

Paco gave his friend a surprised look. “The Bronx? But I though you’d killed that one.”

“I never said that,” Anatol replied, shaking his head. His eyes got a far away look as he remembered the night. “The church assumed that I had destroyed it because there were no further attacks, but I’m not so sure about it. After I woke up in the hospital, I did some research to catch up on what’s been happening.” He paused to look Paco in the eyes. “The world has gone mad, my friend. It’s as if the floodgates are open. There have been more verified reports of creatures in the last year than there have been since World War II, when Hitler was trying to open the gates.”

“So you still search for the demon from the Bronx,” Paco said, shaking his head. “I had no idea.”

Anatol shifted uncomfortably in the seat to relieve some of the pain in his ribs. “If I’m lucky, this creature will have knowledge about the Bronx summoning. It might even be linked to the Bronx. I don’t know. For now, I have to simply try to bide my time and follow what leads I do have.”

Paco scratched at his right ear as he considered the new information. “And where has your investigation led you so far?”

Anatol studied his old friend for a moment before speaking, “This is just between you and me, my old friend, but I think I may have found someone linked indirectly to the event.”

“You have?” Paco asked, glancing up front towards the wolf driving the car. He didn’t think the wolf knew English very well, but one never knew. Switching to Russian, he continued, “<What did you find?>”

Momentarily taken aback by his friend’s sudden change of language, Anatol caught the motion of Paco’s eyes towards the driver and understood. “<I have found a female who was discovered in a delusional state, or so it was assumed by the police. She disappeared from the face of the earth the very night of the summoning.>” He paused for a moment as he watched his friend absorb what he’d said. “<I’m certain that she is somehow connected to the event. I felt it when I first met her. I know for a fact that she’s not a creature, but there’s something about her kits that are unnatural.>”

“<Have you told the church about this yet?>” Father Ramirez asked, shocked at his friend’s declaration.

Anatol shook his head. “<No. I don’t want them involved yet. I believe that they are innocent bystanders in a greater play being made by the Bronx creature. Until I can be sure, I’m going to remain as close to her as possible.>”

Paco’s head spun at the realization of the scope of what Anatol was attempting. “<If you’re not going to tell the church, then why tell me?>”

“<It is as you said,>” Anatol replied, frowning slightly. He turned to give Paco another grave look. “<If I die, the information will be lost. I wasn’t sure about the link until today. Her name is Sheila Vixen. I think the creature that came through your town is hunting her sister.>”

“How’s your seafood penne?” James asked before taking a sip of wine.

Zig Zag swallowed before answering. “It’s not bad. Nuking it made the clams a little too rubbery for my taste, but it’s not bad over all. How’s the lasagna?”

James poked at his lasagna for a second as he laughed. “Too much time in the microwave,” he replied, leaving the fork stuck in at a forty-five degree angle. “I’m not sure, but I think we might be able to sell this to Firestorm tires.”

“Sorry,” Zig Zag replied, pushing her plate towards him. “Here, have some of my penne. I’m full already.”

“Full?” James parroted while giving her a doubtful look. “How can you be full? You’ve hardly touched your dinner.”

“To be honest, I made myself a small salad when I came home today,” she said as she leaned back in her chair, her wine glass in her right hand. “I didn’t get much of a lunch today and was starving.”

James speared some penne and swirled it in the sauce for a second. “Oh? What happened?” he asked before poking the fork into his mouth.

“Would you believe that Sheila came to the studio today?” Zig Zag replied. She took a sip of her wine and nodded at James’ incredulous look. “Yep. She showed up out of the blue, and get this: She wanted to see her kits.”

“No!” James exclaimed with false amazement.

“Yes!” she replied, nodding for emphasis. “You should have seen it. She apologized for what had happened the other day and then asked to hold the kit. Once she had the kit in her arms, she was like a completely different person.”

“Wow! That’s great!” the coyote declared; glad to hear things were starting to work out.

Zig Zag nodded. “Not only that, but she also named the kits.”

“No!” James again exclaimed, this time with honest surprise. “What did she name them?”

“Thomas and Michelle,” Zig Zag replied, taking another sip of wine.

“Thomas and Michelle?” James echoed, his brow furrowed as he stirred another piece of pasta in the sauce. “I don’t remember any of her close friends being named Thomas. Not unless we’re talking about Sabrina’s roommate’s boyfriend. Wasn’t his name Thomas?”

Again, Zig Zag nodded. “Yeah, that’s him, but she didn’t name him after that guy. She says it’s from someone she met during her travels.”

“Her travels?” James prompted, frowning at Zig Zag. “We talking the trip between the studio and where they got kidnapped, or after she got rescued?”

The question stunned Zig Zag. Where had Sheila met someone named Thomas? Could it be that he was one of her captors? Wait! Sheila hadn’t been captured! She’d poofed off into never-never land with Arden, so it must be someone from that world. If that’s true, then she must have accepted what she’d been told the other day when they argued, which would explain her apology.

Having gotten things straight in her head, Zig Zag smiled. “No, it’s probably from when Sheila and Arden vanished. Remember? Like I’ve been telling you all along? I’ll bet she finally figured out what was real and what wasn’t.”

“With a little help,” James coyly replied, popping the penne into his mouth.

“Huh?” Zig Zag grunted, giving her boyfriend a quizzical look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

James casually finished chewing the penne before washing it down with some wine. “Sheila came to my office today. She demanded to know the truth about what happened the night she vanished.”

“I see,” she replied, lost in thought. She glanced up at James and saw his expression. “Oh. I see,” she again said, suddenly realizing what must have transpired. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you about the content of our little talk the other day.”

James picked up the glass and finished it off. “Yes, you should have,” he replied rather sternly. After a few seconds his expression relaxed as he let go of the tension. “Don’t worry about it. Everything turned out for the best and that’s what’s important.” He gathered up the plates against her objection as he continued to talk, “So how’s the nanny search going?”

After having her hand lightly slapped a couple of times, Zig Zag gave up and relaxed in her chair. “Not bad. I finished up the interviews today. I think I’ve weeded them down to three candidates.” She stood from her chair and retrieved her briefcase from the entryway, placing it on the table when she returned. She opened it and removed three folders, dropping them on the table where James had been sitting. “That’s them.”

James finished dumping the disposable plates and containers into the trash before resuming his seat. Picking up the top folder he opened it. “René Townsend?” he asked, glancing at Zig Zag.

“Nice lady,” she replied, nodding. “She’s an Aardvark. Raised three kids of her own, and has been doing work as a nanny off and on for the last ten years or so. She doesn’t do housework, but since I already have a maid service, that won’t be much of a problem.”

“Are you going to get maid service for Sheila?” James asked, cocking an ear in her direction. “Or do you figure Sheila’s going to suddenly get the nesting instinct and become tidy?”

“Oh! I hadn’t thought of that,” Zig Zag replied, thoughtfully.

James set the folder aside and opened the next. “Roberta Munos?”

Zig Zag nodded, remembering the applicant. “Yes. A tortoise. She was a very kind old lady. I think she said she had just passed her ninetieth birthday. Only concern I had was that she insisted on only using natural ingredients for the kits formulas and foods, and that we not use disposable diapers because they’d harm the environment.

James shrugged at the description. “That doesn’t sound too bad. Would she be washing the diapers?”

“No. We’d have to subscribe to a service, or do them ourselves,” she replied. She saw James’ look and nodded. “Right.”

James picked up the last one. “Thomas Livingston?” he said. A moment later both ears stood straight up. “He’s a child psychologist?”

Zig Zag nodded. “Yes. Actually, I liked him the best of all the candidates. He met Sheila while she was there and they got along well.”

“The guy’s a psychologist, butler and has been a nanny to the crown of England?” He shot Zig Zag a disbelieving look. “Are you crazy? This guy has to cost a fortune!”

“Nope,” she smugly replied, swirling her wine before finishing it off. “He won’t cost any more than the others. He’s independently wealthy and does this because he loves taking care of kids.”

James shook his head. “Then why doesn’t he get married and have kids of his own?”

“He’s gay,” Zig Zag replied, catching James off guard. “I gave him my letch test today and he barely batted an eye. When I asked him about it, he admitted that he was gay and hoped that wouldn’t influence my decision.”

“Gay, huh,” James muttered, lost in thought. “I don’t really have any problems with that, as long as he’s not a pedophile.”

Zig Zag reached out and set her glass on the table. “We covered that too. He’s been thoroughly screened and has great references, and most importantly Sheila likes him. I’m gong to have her interview all three just to make sure, but given the choice, I think he’s our guy.”

“I don’t know,” James replied, shaking his head again. “This guy is just too good to be true.”

“Maybe, but I think it’s about time things went our way,” she replied as she stood from her chair. “Speaking of things going our way, we still have a few hours before the kits wake up for their midnight feeding. What say we take advantage of the lull?”

James continued to flip through the mouse’s resume. “I don’t know. Something feels wrong about this.”

Zig Zag draped herself over his shoulders, closing the folder as she nibbled on his ear. “Worry about that in the morning. Right now, I’ve got other pressing matters.”

A momentary flash of annoyance ran through James, but he let go of it. There was nothing that he’d accomplish tonight by forcing a discussion other than pissing Zig Zag off. They’d had enough fights lately that he didn’t want to have to deal with another one. “All right,” he conceded. “But I want to be there for the interviews, OK?”

Zig Zag grunted in annoyance as she leaned on him rather than draping herself over his back. “Fine. If it means we’ll get a little more private time tonight, then I’m more than happy to have you there,” she said, standing up. Turning around she started walking towards the bedroom, unbuttoning her blouse. “Besides, I was going to ask you to come anyway,” she said over her shoulder, giving him a wink and a light laugh before disappearing into the bedroom.

Mandy heard the front door open as Khansman came into the house. She put on her best smile as she picked up his regular evening drink and turned towards the doorway. “How was your day?” she asked, immediately knowing it hadn’t gone well from the look he gave her. She handed him his drink and took his briefcase and jacket from him in return. Hanging the jacket in the closet, she put the briefcase next to his desk before returning to the living room where she saw him sitting in his recliner, watching the TV.

Approaching him from behind, she put her hands on his shoulders and began trying to work out the tension in his muscles. “Things that bad at work?”

“No,” he responded tersely. “Work’s fine.”

The leopardess’ ears perked up at that declaration. Maybe she’d get some real information from him this time. “What happened, sweetie?”

“Don’t!” Daniel snapped. “Don’t pump me for information. If I want you to know something, I’ll tell you.”

The sting of his statement caused her to dig her claws momentarily into his shoulders.

“Ow!” Khansman yelped, pulling away from her and spilling his drink. “What the fuck did you do that for?”

“How long have I worked for you?” she demanded. “How many times have I done what you told me to, no questions asked? How many times have I entertained your friends for you just so you’d have some leverage over them? After everything I’ve done for you, the least you can do is show some god damned fucking civility towards me!”

“I don’t pay you to have to be nice to you,” he snarled back, setting the drink down as he rose. “You’re not my girlfriend, you’re not my wife and you’re sure as fuck not my confidant!”

“I never said I was,” the leopardess shot back. “But you can at least show me some consideration once in a while. I mean, Jesus Christ! Would it kill you to just fucking say please once in a while?” Mandy winced as she saw Khansman’s claws come out. She wondered if she’d pushed him too far this time.

Daniel reared back to slash her, but stopped. He was letting his anger get to him again. Forcing his claws to retract, he counted to ten as he held his breath and then slowly let it out. He looked up at the frightened female and did something he didn’t do often. “I’m sorry,” he said, apologizing. “It’s just that I’m pretty stressed out at the moment and I really don’t need you adding to it.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” the leopardess meekly said as she approached him. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said, working his tie loose before removing it from around his neck before starting on the buttons of his shirt. “I just want to help, that’s all. You know that I’m loyal to you. I’d do anything for you.”

Daniel relaxed and nodded. “It’s nothing, really,” he stated, taking her hand in his and kissing it. “It’s just that 90 Minutes is going to be doing an expose on the Zig Zag trial and that’s possible bad press that I don’t need. I’ve got to figure a way to wag the dog to make sure I look good and not that whore.”

Although she was smiling, Mandy was cursing internally. The story probably wouldn’t turn up any dirt on him that she didn’t already have. Turning her attention to his pants, she set her disappointment aside as she worked to make sure he would remain arrogant, happy, and ignorant of her intent.