Her eyes opened in shock as the man slumped to his knees, gasping. “Well, whadda ya know. It really works.” Squatting down on her haunches, a sneer curling her lips, Kael patted the hapless man’s cheek. “Well Chang, or whatever the fuck your name is, I’ve just cut off the flow of blood to your brain.” She cocked her head, her features assuming a mockingly sympathetic cast. “And to tell ya the truth, I’m not too sure I know how to undo it.” She grinned. “So how ‘bout if we do this. You take a message back to your master for me, and I use the remaining time trying to figure out how to undo this thing before you join your ancestors right here in this alley. Huh? Sound good to you?”

The man’s head bobbed and nodded as if it were on a spring. A thick line of blood flowed slowly from one nostril.

Kael put one finger up to the man’s nose, trailing through the blood and rubbing it between her fingers. Her sneer widened. “Now that’s a pretty sight.” She came in closer to the man, her lips almost touching his ear. “Now, here’s what I want you to do. You tell your master that I don’t need anyone following me around his city. Tell him the next idiot he sends won’t get off near as lucky as you. Got it?”

The man nodded again, gasping and moaning, his eyes pleading with her.

“Good.” Bringing both hands up to her face, Kael extended the first two fingers of each, stared at them, then shrugged. “Well, here goes nothin’.” In a lightning fast move, she jabbed at his pressure points. The hold broke and the man slumped to the concrete pavement, groaning aloud and panting for the breath he’d lost.

Rising to her feet, Kael smiled down at him. “Sleep tight,” she intoned as she delivered a sharp kick to his exposed head. The man’s body flew against the opposite wall and fell limp to the ground. Mouing her lips in mock sympathy, Kael blew on her still extended fingers, twirled them like she was twirling a gun and jammed them down by her sides. “Score one for the bad guys.”

Stepping out of the alley, Kael sauntered deeper into the bowels of the city, led on by the sweet scent of opium as it wafted gently into the still night air. The three months that she spent in horrid withdrawal from cocaine and other drugs she had started taking to distract her mind from the gnawing pain of her shattered legs were among the worst she’d ever known. Geraldo had stuck with her throughout, bathing her sweating body with cool, clean water, changing her fouled clothes, enduring her beatings and raving shouts as she demanded just one hit, just one line, anything to subdue the agony roaring through her body and mind.

If she hadn’t been so ill, the true irony of the situation would have amused Kael no end. That she would be lying on a bed brought with money from the very drugs she was unable now to consume. That she was being comforted by the very man who made his living pulling others into his net of fast highs and faster deaths. The irony escaped her at the time, however, so great was her need.

Now she was going back into that seductive trap with her eyes open, knowing full well what might lay in wait for her at the end of the line. This time it was her craving for power and not the overwhelming need to forget that led her here, to the deepest, darkest part of the city where her kindred spirits dwelled.

Passing several drug houses, she finally stopped at one that seemed to meet her needs for the evening. At first, her way was barred by two thick-set men who stared at her and her foreign features as if she had come from another solar system entirely. With a flash of her smile and a ruffling of cash, the way cleared before her as if she were Moses and her cash the staff which parted the sea of suspicion. She walked through the place as if she owned it, and if truth will out, she would one day, stalking up to the bar and laying a slim bundle of currency on the stained surface. “A clean pipe and an ounce of your best,” she ordered imperiously, smirking as the proprietor stared at the money with wide, almond eyes.

The requested items appeared magically before her and Kael grinned as she swept them into her hands, leaving a generous tip for the man before making her way to a relatively unoccupied corner of the dark room. It took mere minutes to set things up to her liking and soon the stem of the pipe was between her full lips and she was dragging the sweet, pungent taste of oblivion deep into her lungs.

The drugs hit her cleaned-out system powerfully, a muted buzz humming from her heart outward, tingling through her limbs and swaddling her in a cocoon of warmth and bliss. “Woah,” she said softly, blowing the smoke out into the room, “that’s more like it.”

A few more hits and she was ready to look around and so she did, taking in the looks of casual disinterest emitted from glazed eyes. She kept her own expression carefully non-committal, inviting no one, yet spurning none. Her cool façade seemed to calm them and the patrons went back to their own oblivions-in-the-making, none the worse for wear. Kael knew that there would soon come a time where she would use both her cash and the allure of her western body like a siren, drawing the men into her web and seducing information from their small minds. But for now, she was content to simply let both the drug and the muted conversation wash over her like a warm wave, picking up small bits of information and storing them in that part of her mind that remained very much awake and aware. Time enough to put plans in motion later. Now was for laying subtle groundwork and ingratiating herself, by her very aloofness, into a society she soon hoped to possess.

Thoroughly satisfied with her lot in life at the moment, Kael stood to her full height, stuffing the remainder of the drug into the front pocket of her jeans for later consumption. The world tilted oddly for a moment and she braced herself against the head-rush as casually as she was able. Once she was sure she could navigate without difficulty, the tall American walked through the small room, stopping only once to slip a generous tip into the hands of the surprised doormen. Then, with a spring in her step and a jaunty whistle on her lips, Kael made her way back through the city to where her tiny bed awaited.

*******

Sitting straddled in a high-backed, thoroughly uncomfortable, wooden chair, Geraldo checked the luminous numbers on the bedside clock yet again. His anger had long ago given way to fear, paranoia, and finally a sense of the inevitable. Kael was out there, somewhere, doing God knew what with God knew whom. In his younger days, he doubtless would have let his anger spur him into a building by building search of his wayward lover and, upon finding her, let his sharp tongue and sharper fists do his talking for him.

He sighed, putting his head in his hands. All those previously used tactics went nowhere with the thoroughly beautiful, thoroughly charming, thoroughly exasperating woman who captured and held his heart effortlessly. Trying to tame Kael was like trying to rope the wind: impossible. Just when you thought you had a handle on it, it would change direction and dance laughingly just out of your reach. He sighed once more, looking again at the clock which seemed to taut him from its place on the scarred nightstand. With an arching fist and a guttural yell, he smashed the timepiece into tiny bits of protesting plastic and circuitry, then batted it against the far wall with a sweep of his strong arm. “Damn it, Kael!” he shouted into the silent room. “Where are you?”

The door chose that moment to slam open and Kael sauntered in, a faintly amused grin on her full lips. “Why Geraldo,” she said, eyes wide in mocking sympathy, “I’m right here!” The smile bloomed fully on her face as she brushed past her dark-haired lover and dropped her rangy frame down onto the lumpy bed, bouncing a few times for effect.

Geraldo shot to his feet, his anger slamming down onto him like an iron bar dropped from on high. “Where the fuck have you been all this time!” he shouted. “I’ve been worried sick! You don’t just … .” His diatribe trailed off as he noticed the condition of his lover for the first time. The smile remained firmly in place on her face and her striking eyes were glazed over, slightly reddened. “You’re stoned!”

“Sure am,” Kael replied happily. “Right out of my fucking gourd. And ya know what, Geraldo? It feels goooood.” Leaning back on her elbows, she eyed him coquettishly from beneath half-lowered lids. Freeing one hand, she dug it into the pocket of her jeans, producing the baggie filled with opium and holding it up between her thumb and forefinger. “Want some?”

“Why you … .” One hand shot out to grab the stash while the other one attempted a blindside hit to Kael’s sneering face. Neither tactic was successful and the drug lord quickly found himself flat on his back, a widely grinning Kael straddling his waist, the drug still safely in her possession.

“I’m in a very good mood right now, Geraldo,” Kael explained to her pinned captive. “But that could change in an instant.” She looked down at him, one ebony eyebrow raised. “You wouldn’t want to make me angry now, would you?”

Repocketing her stash, Kael shifted her hips lower, leaning forward and grinding against him wantonly. She grinned ferally at the look of complete surrender on Geraldo’s face as she felt him harden beneath her. “I’m feelin’ really good at the moment,” she repeated, her voice a seductive purr, her eyes smoky in the dim lighting. “Let’s see if I can’t make us both feel that way, hmm?”

With a low, keening groan, Geraldo did the only thing he could. He capitulated without a fight.

*******

It was, she supposed, a pretty ordinary dream for someone who’d been clean of drugs for three months and had enough opium now running through her system to fell a moose. Smells, sounds and sights snapped at her with hyper-vivid clarity, imbuing her senses with a sort of other-worldly surrealism.

She was sitting in some sort of a … tent was the best word that came to mind. She could feel the thick luxurity of the furs beneath her semi reclining body, a body which was clad in some sort of cloth and metal which felt heavy enough to be armor. A strange, haunting melody sounded from behind her while in front, Geraldo sat, his long black hair done up in some sort of top-knot. Next to him sat a beautiful Asian woman clad in a traditional red silk robe which brought out the highlights of her raven hair and eyes to exquisite perfection. Kael brought the thin stem of an opium pipe up to her lips and inhaled, looking through the smoky haze as a seduction played itself out right in front of her.

She watched through narrowed eyes as Geraldo enchanted the beautiful woman, serving her food as if she were a princess and he, a lowly valet. His hands were gentle upon her body and his face soft as he bent to whisper whimsical nonsense into one delicate ear. She felt a rage flow through her on the wings of the drug she took into her lungs. She saw the woman look at her deeply, before looking away and smiling at something Geraldo whispered to her.

Kael tried to interpret the look through her drug-filled haze. Was it desire? For her? For him? Her rage built as the answer eluded her. The woman smiled coyly once more as she began to reach a slim, perfectly manicured hand across the table. Kael reached down and liberated a knife at her waist, snarling and throwing it so that it landed, point first and hilt thrumming, just inches away from the woman’s reaching hand. “That’s my piece of meat you’re reaching for,” she heard herself growl.

“You’re wrong,” the woman responded, her voice as graceful as her form and movements. “I don’t eat meat.”

The sense of Geraldo shifting under her woke Kael and scattered her dream to the four winds. Groaning softly, she rolled off her lover’s recumbent body, forcing herself to her feet as a hangover thudded sickly in her temples. An ugly grin twisted her features as the half-clad man mumbled in his sleep, turning over and grabbing a pillow, snuggling it against his chest. “You’ve gone soft, Geraldo,” she sneered, running a hand through her sleep-tangled hair. “Soft as a pig’s belly.”

*******

The next two weeks saw the lovers drifting further and further apart. Geraldo continued on in his negotiations with Ming Dao, going over and over the million tiny sticking points that prevented a successful business arrangement between the two parties.

Of course, being the man he was, he was also attempting to forge alliances with some of the other drug lords dotting the Chinese landscape, but Ming Dao didn’t need to know that. It was more than enough for now that the man continued to negotiate, given the horrible first step that had been made with Kael.