Daly had called her into the house, and the weight of the gun at her hip called to her. On the way over he had given her scant information: Christopher was pandering to the vices of incumbent Senators, then netting them in and forcing their retirement. Making room for like-minded individuals who would fill the Congressional ranks and pass stiffer laws for first time offenders and longer sentences for repeaters. At first glance, this would see, to hold the most attraction for the true "law and order" faction. However, it would actually have the opposite effect. Felons couldn’t vote, and prisoners were counted in the census as residents of the counties where they were being held, and wealthy crime lords would pay higher fees to keep themselves and their workers from indictment. The advantage of the new laws was that they would eventually create more money for certain counties, and that meant there was more for the taking. Money, as always, made the world go ‘round; Julia, Winslow’s connection to the politicians, serviced many of them as her clientele and gave him the hold that he needed. She could also be the weak link in his chain, and Daly wanted Bajo Zero to help him exploit that possibility. Standing outside, she heard the workers hauling materials and banging away at what would be a guesthouse, the same edifice she had helped to begin. She knew the young man watching her from the veranda. He thought she hadn’t seen him, but her eyes were quicker than his body.

A fear rumbled in her, cramping her insides and tying her in knots. Her scowl kept it at bay. The dread built when she entered the house and walked through the foyer towards the study. Somewhere, Casey was standing, or sitting, alive and doing very well without her. Magali knew, if she saw her she would crumble. Rejection she could take from anyone else; but Casey’s would destroy her.

Seeing Julia sitting at her desk with her unshakable air of sovereignty made her want to vomit, or shoot the woman, whichever came first. The blonde sneered at her. The look only made her shake her head; Magali had felt more threatened by a five year old.

"She doesn’t want you," were the first words out of Julia’s mouth. Magali did not respond, merely wandered over to the window, wondering if she threw the woman through it how much damage that could cause.

"That’s not what she’s here for, Winslow."

"Call me Julia, Mister Daly. All my enemies do," she replied, cocking her head. "What is she here for then?"

"You mix with the right people, she mixes with the wrong people, all corrupt, all on my list. I know there has been some…sour business between you, but considering both of your positions…it serves both of your interests to call a truce."

"She tried to kill me," Julia objected flatly.

"You’re incredibly lucky she didn’t succeed. Exactly how did you manage that? I’m curious." He reached in his pocket and produced a toothpick; the man was addicted to them.

"Casey clobbered me on the head. Knocked me out," Magali murmured from where she rigidly stood.

Seeming to come to Casey’s defense, Julia jumped in. "Only because she realized how much of a worthless animal you are."

Magali spun from the window and pounded her hands on the top of Julia’s desk; she hovered over the woman, making a point of being menacing. "You’re right, okay," Magali spat through her teeth. "She’s better off with you, than she is with me! I’m an animal, worthless, whatever you fuckin’ say…just remember bitch, you’re in the same pen with me now, and here, I’m top dog."

"That’s the same temper that drove her away from you. You should learn to control it." Julia grinned; it reminded Magali of a hyena.

Still, she knew it for the truth. It had been the very same poison that had cast Casey away from her, and she would be damned if she would make the same mistake twice. Jealousy stampeded through her the way Spanish rolled off her tongue. "This temper keeps me alive…it could have the opposite effect on you."

"You expect me to work with this? You’re insane, Mister Daly."

"Just plain Daly is fine. If I were you, I would learn to placate her. I don’t completely control her. You’re in a cage with a lioness, Julia. Play nice."

"A lioness, you say? Don’t trainers use whips?" She arched her eyebrow at Magali. "I can handle one if necessary."

"So I’ve heard," Magali retorted, walking away from the desk.

Julia considered the implications and decided her control of Casey gave her a definite advantage. "She likes it, you know. You can’t do for her what I can."

"I don’t want to do for her, you stump! You’ve got her, so stop gloating." The tone was tight and filled with threat

"I…don’t…gloat."

Daly shot glances at both women, his jaw clenching and working as if he were swallowing down a bitter fruit. Both women were strong enough to poison a man with just their looks, and each was equally menacing in her own way. Standing by the bay window, with her hands in the pockets of her new suit, Magali’s glare threatened to pierce through him. After making a few fruitless phone calls from his room, she had become frustrated and destroyed the lamp on the night table, her legendary temper well-founded in fact. She had showered then and, dripping water across the rug as she made her way to his wallet in the buff, extracted his credit card. Her shopping spree had been short and decisive, a perfect example of how she lived the rest of her life.

"I’m not working with her, Daly. Just put my ass back in jail."

"Easy now, you two won’t really have to see each other at all." The man’s voice was cajoling, intended to pacify.

"Fuck that! Are you out of your fuckin’ mind!"

"On this, I agree with her!" Julia spat out through her teeth, standing from her leather office chair and leaning over the desk.

"You’re both blowing this out of proportion. We need to establish a clear connection between these people, and you two are the only ones who have any chance of pulling it off," he nearly pleaded.

"Pull this, Daly," Magali barked, flipping him off.

"I wouldn’t quite use that gesture, but—"

"As if either of you had a choice! Let’s remember the situation here and—"

"Can it, Daly. We’ll finish this another time," Magali said, walking past him to the door, swallowing the hungry need to indulge the rage that begged her for release. Images of Casey’s body intertwined with Julia’s had invaded her mind when she had first laid eyes on the woman. The mention of the whip had not improved matters any. The knob substituted for the needed feel of a gun in her hand.

Fine doors and fine locks make scarcely a noise when they are well taken care of, but hinges always squeal. When Magali stepped out into the foyer, her nightmares became reality. Had heaven opened and all its angels broken loose, the shock of it would not have resulted in a more pallid expression then the one on Casey’s face. Panicked confusion drained the color from her lips, and Magali would have sworn the woman was about to faint, had it not been for the flush of angry color that suddenly suffused her cheeks.

"Casey." Magali swallowed; her stomach spasmed. The door clicked closed behind her.

"I’m better off with her?! You don’t want to do for me?! What am I a trading card?!" Casey yelled.

Magali recoiled from the verbal lashing. This encounter she had not wanted to happen, though it was worth her life to see her Saint again. "I deserved that. I’m sorry, Casey. I shouldn’t have come here. I knew you didn’t want to see me. Now, I’ve only made things worse…for myself."

Knowing that the next words could shatter or bind her forever, Magali rigidly held on to herself for whatever shock was about to pass her way. One hint of rejection from your lips and I die right here. Casey’s eyes had locked with hers, and she couldn’t, for all the power she could muster, tear away from the stare. People walked, but her Saint floated on unseen clouds that brought her closer, and froze Magali where she stood. When the open palm slapped her face and flung the sunglasses she had perched on her head across the floor, ice solidified in her veins and chilled her from within. Casey had struck her with an angry hand guided by tearful eyes, emeralds in an ocean. She absorbed the heat of the blow, the stinging of her skin and the sour taste it left her with. Julia laughed at something Daly said from inside the study, a sick low chuckle that bit right into her very self; but lips that would have viciously responded to the sound were busy being devoured and sanctified by her Saint’s kiss. The searing, desperate and seeking, drew her downward into the embrace and warmth of Casey’s body; her hands came free and gripped fiercely onto her dearest hope. Eternity made real and tangible. Small hands smoothed out the lapels of her jacket, touching her with uncertainty and the care given to fragile things.

"I didn’t want to see you? I…do you have any idea, the hell I’ve been through?" Casey touched her face, the angry print of her hand glowing on Magali’s cheek. "What in the world would make you think I didn’t want to see you? What, Gali?"

"I…I saw you. You were laughing by the pool. And later…I followed you. You seemed happy." The shrug was self-effacing, and it broke Casey’s heart.

Casey hung her head, the color in her cheeks there from humiliation rather than anger. "I thought you were dead." Then the import of her lover’s words struck her. "You’ve been watching me? Why didn’t you call to me? Why didn’t you come…"

"Dead? Why would you think I was dead? Because I didn’t come? No…I…I violated parole, just to be near you. I was only waiting to get cleared, Casey. I didn’t want you on the run with me," she hurriedly explained.

"But I saw a news tape, your car blew up; and Jesse has Devi."

"That’s how I violated, but I survived that, and yeah, Jesse has Devi, I’ve been away for over a month. Who showed you the tape?"

Casey’s eyes narrowed; they pierced through the wood of the study door, as if seeing through it towards where Julia’s desk sat. The door swung open then, and Daly walked out into the hall, Julia smiling behind him. Apparently, he had won her over, but her grin faded when she realized that her hidden fear had come to pass and the truth of her deception was known.

Magali felt the true weight of loss when Casey tore away from her; chest heaving and nostrils flared, the gaze of wrath fell on Julia. "You made me think she was dead! You bitch!" Casey hissed, and lunged at the taller blonde. Julia backed away, nearly colliding with the wall behind her.

"It was for the best, Casey." Julia retorted. "She admits it herself, she’s not the sort of person you want to be involved with," she added, pointing a finger at Magali.

The language behind Casey’s stance was feral and raw, and Magali smirked, crossing her arms at her chest. "Like you are?" she chortled, taking pleasure in Casey’s outrage; the tables had turned. I love it when that happens.

"Stay out of this. We can do without any of your brilliant commentary," Julia spat at her, then softening her tone, smiled at the angry blonde aiming for her jugular. "Casey, let’s talk about this like civilized people. Can’t you see what her mere presence does to you? For God’s sake, you’re a step away from the trailer, around her."

"Julia…I’d rather spend the rest of my life in an RV with her, than be in a palace with you for another minute. Can’t you see how fake everything around you is? You force everything into an image you create, rather than love it for what it really is. You don’t love me. You love your perception of me. You deceived me-- and it didn’t even matter to you what it would do to me. Did it? Did it?" Casey yelled, her timber becoming increasingly agitated as she spoke.

Daly stood motionless; the hairs on the nape of his neck rose to the subtle movement adjacent to him. The motions of Magali’s body always either excited or chilled him, and in such a situation, he feared what her hands would do. It was awe, he realized, that ran through him; the ruthless killer he knew so well wore a different face on her approach to the outraged blonde. The hands she laid on Casey’s shoulders, tools often used to unleash chaos, settled gently, with comforting intentions. Tenderly, the tall woman drew Casey towards her and, with her chest pressed to her back, lowered her head and whispered soft words into Casey’s ear.

Low and sweet the sounds brushed the skin of her neck, shelter against the storm that brewed violently within her. "You are your own, Baby. Beautiful, true, and real. She didn’t trick you…without you, I am dead." Casey’s body relaxed upon hearing the words, spoken by a voice she thought would never again grace the air. Bringing her hands up to touch the fingertips resting on her shoulders, she shut her eyes and took in a long breath. "Gali, please take me home."

"Whatever you say, Baby," Magali uttered gently, taking Casey by the hand.

Julia didn’t take loss well; it made her vindictive and spiteful, and she let it control her. "Your Zero, Mister Daly, seems to have a taste for used goods…"

Casey’s body stiffened next to Magali. She could feel the tension in her dark lover’s hand, and she stopped in her tracks.

Not noticing the coiling power presaging a cobra-strike, Julia struck out blindly in retaliation, biting her lower lip. "Oh, don’t worry…she enjoyed every minute of it."

When Magali turned to face Julia, Casey instinctually hid behind her, Magali’s words and their tone stinging. "Watch your fuckin’ mouth. I doubt she’ll even try to save you this time."

Julia shook off the threat, waving her hand in dismissal of it. "Oh, well see there…good intentions are always misread. I was only going to give you some simple advice…You really should learn to use a whip…She writhes under its touch."

Magali shrugged. "I tried," she breathed and landed an uppercut to Julia’s jaw that flung her crashing into the wall, knocking down a painting that hung there.

Daniel didn’t know what to make of it. The yelling had brought him down from his hiding place, and no one had noticed when he entered. His Mistress flew against the wall, grabbing her jaw as she slumped to the ground. Lucifer was beating on Julia and was now taking Casey. With no thought for what he might actually accomplish, he raced down the stairs towards the intruder, screaming as he did.

Magali saw him out of the corner of her eye; a running figure headed straight for her with obviously malignant intentions. She whipped her blazer open and grabbed for the gun, holding it out towards the young man and sneering.

"No!" Casey yelled, charting an interception course with Daniel.

Déjà vu. Casey protecting a young man from her, from her gun. Pressure on the trigger, her finger squeezed, her anger pouring into her hand. Casey’s back was towards her, and a hair’s breadth away from firing she pulled back, watching her Saint hug the man and pull him away whispering in his ear. He looked as if he were about to cry. Glancing over at her his mouth formed the name "Heathcliff." Casey let go of him, giving him a kiss on the cheek and extended her hand out to Magali.

"Gali."

She pushed the gun back into the waistband of her pants, and took the outstretched hand. They walked out the front door, Daniel staring at their backs until the door closed and the light of the sun they walked into disappeared.

"Daniel, I think it’s time you went to your Master," Julia said, rubbing her jaw and standing to her feet.

He nodded, and turned for the stairs. He didn’t have much to pack, but he wanted the frog to be among his belongings when he left.

*************************************************************

Daly hadn’t been happy about putting more money on his credit card. Magali had spent a large amount of his line on her suit, but there had been little he could do to stop her, and he didn’t exactly want to share a room with the reunited lovers. With a little legwork and some indulging, he would finally be able to connect the pictures on his graph at home. Years of work would pay off, and then he could seriously start the business of bringing down the Blue Gauntlet. It made him happy, even if he knew that the body he had lusted after for years would be sharing her bed with another. After all, she had been little more than a child when he had first been assigned to her. It was a strange twist of luck, that out of all the agents and assignments working towards the same end, his had hit pay dirt. Who would have thought that the common street hustler he had griped about being handed would be the one with the key to bring it all tumbling down? He had felt sorry for her at first, he knew well her situation; but as the years passed, the young con had grown from a victim into a menace. A public enemy number one that was a part of a vicious food chain he was sworn to put an end to. He settled down for one of the two pies of pizza they had ordered—more precisely, a half of a pie, since Magali had commandeered the rest.

The TV in their room had a small dial radio that if played with enough eventually tuned in to some station. Magali fidgeted in front of the bathroom mirror, listening to the sounds of faint music filtering in from the room. Her Saint waited there, along with a pie and a half she no longer had an appetite for. She pushed back the length of hair that had grown since she had shorn it all off. It was awkward, and though Casey hadn’t said a word about it, she had fingered it curiously on their way to the motel. It took a few seconds for the water from the faucet to warm, and she splashed some on her face; her cheek still stung from Casey’s slap.

I can’t believe she’s here…with me, not Julia. Me. Damn, I’ve done so much…would she forgive me? Would I? Thankfully the blue marks of her veins had faded. Only small scars where the skin had broken remained. If she was careful, Casey might not ever notice.

Casey, waiting for her, was experiencing her own moments of insecurity. What’s taking her so long? She was watching me. I wonder how much she saw. God…I should just tell her. What if she turns me away? Would she have brought me with her if she knew?

The bed canted downward in one corner. Casey sat on the fuzzy yellow blanket Magali had uncovered when she pulled the bedspread off. The wallpaper matched it, but Casey was unsure if that was because of its age, or by design. Nervously, she cleaned under her nails, though they were immaculate. She still wore the collar Julia had claimed her with months before, and she hoped Magali had brought her knife so she could cut the thing off her neck.

A strange light cast a square beam of yellow light onto the carpet when Magali opened the bathroom door. She had taken her blazer off and detached the gun from her waist, leaving it on the nightstand by the bed. It made Casey tense.

"I thought maybe you drowned in there."

"Huh? No, I..ah…You hate it right?" Magali queried apprehensively, running her fingers through her hair.

"Your hair? It’s…something different. Did you dye it?"

Magali nodded and frowned, rubbing the strands of her hair as if that would make it grow. Casey walked to her, a small grin on her face.

"Oh, Honey. I’m just not used to it. But if you want to wear it like that…"

"No, I just kinda cut it to…you know…hide, I guess."

"Then don’t worry about it," Casey said, sliding her hand down the middle of Magali’s chest. "It’ll grow back. What I really want to know, is…why the hoop?"

"Hoop?" She followed her Saint’s eyes, and touched the piercing in her eyebrow, suddenly remembering the piece of jewelry she had become accustomed to. "You mean this?"

Casey nodded, and Magali averted her eyes, padding instead over to the dining table where the pizza box waited.

"It’s umm…would you believe me if I said I didn’t remember how it got there?" That was the truth, she didn’t; at least, she didn’t remember getting pierced.

"Sure I would, though I really don’t know if I want to know why you don’t remember. You broke your promise…didn’t you?" Like I should be pressing this issue right now. "Drugs, Gali?"

She had opened the box, but decided she really didn’t want any and, keeping her eyes to the ground, sat on the bed.

"There are some things you should know, Casey. Then…if you want to leave, I won’t stop you," Magali said self-effacingly, and patted the mattress next to her. "You should sit."

Casey complied, frightened by the tone Magali had used. A long moment of silence made her guts tighten; Magali was preparing herself as if her confession were mortal, and it only made Casey feel worse about what she too would have to tell.

"I didn’t tell you exactly the whole truth about that car accident. Callie and Eddie told me what happened that night, and when I woke up the next morning, I tried to get to you. But…there was something wrong with the Jeep, and I noticed too late. I was going too fast, and the wheel locked on me. I was hurt…badly, and I was unwilling to get any real help, because I knew the violation of speeding would have gotten me locked up again." Casey shuffled closer to her, laying a hand on her lap as she listened. "Callie had to cut me open and pull a rib away from my lung."

Casey cringed and cleared her throat. "It was pressing?" she questioned, understanding the gravity of what they had done as only a student of medicine would.

"Yeah. We didn’t have any anesthesia or anything, so…Callie used the only thing she could to kill the pain, and then she kept me on it for too long afterwards to keep me from feeling anything, then to keep me from suffering from not having it."

"What was it?" Casey asked, knitting her brow.

Magali undid the button of her sleeve, and rolled up the cuff, showing Casey her forearm and the small scars dotting it. "Heroin."

"You got hooked?" Casey whispered gravely.

She nodded, head low as she did.

Casey trailed her fingers softly over the healed tracks. "How did you...?" Her voice drifted off.

"Cold. I had to get to you, and I knew if I could pull through the first few days I would be all right."

"That could have killed you. I can’t say it was smart, but that first shot probably kept you from bleeding to death."

"You’re not mad?"

"No," she said, wrapping her arm around Magali’s waist.

Might as well keep this going. "The night I went after Julia…I was stoned that night and I…you—"

"I know, and I know what you thought. Nelson had made you think I brought Julia to the apartment, that must have…driven you insane. I should have told you what was going on." Casey shook her head, clearing the ‘what-could-have-should-have-beens.’

"I don’t care about that anymore. Stupid jealousy! I almost lost you because I—"

"Gali, I…you might know already, but…when I was with her, here in L.A…I—"

"Doesn’t matter," Magali interrupted. "Whatever you did…go along, to get along."

"But—"

"It’s no different from anything I’ve done. Sometimes you have to do shit, just because it’s what you have to. And even if you see a different way in retrospect, it wasn’t there when you needed it, so it doesn’t make much of a difference. Don’t you get it? All I care about is having you by my side…and, if you had done anything that would have…If Julia had hurt you, even if you wanted to be with her…nothin’ would have stopped me from killing her. Besides, it’s not like you wanted…whatever. You didn’t have a choice."

Casey’s hand fell away; her eyes grew solemn and dark. Magali brought a finger under Casey’s chin and, gently, made her face her. "Heart and soul, Baby. As long as those belong to me completely, nothing you’ve done could take my love away from you."

But I wanted, Gali. I wanted to lose myself in his embrace, his eyes, to put you away from my mind so that your ghost wouldn’t torment me in my waking hours. Casey didn’t give voice to her confession, its bitter taste leeching the energy she needed to speak it.

"Do they? Do they belong to me, Casey?" Please God, let her say yes.

Casey grinned, a gesture that trembled when tears streamed down her face. Her words were punctuated with gasping breaths. "One…hundred…percent."

Magali had waited light years, it seemed, to have her lips, to feel her Saint’s mouth pressed against hers and take in the warmth that was her Saint. "Siempre te adorare, mi vida. La mia por la tuya." She could taste the salt of her tears as they kissed, and she wrapped her arms around the smaller woman, trying to convey with her body what her words could never express with any semblance of equity to what she felt. My everything, always I’ll adore you. My life for yours.

The touch was how she had envisioned it night after night. Loving and passionate, it took her spirit and mind. Magali undressed her with gentle hands that simultaneously commanded and pleaded for access to her skin. Her fingertips left the tingle of lightning in their wake, pleasant shocks that ran through her unfettered. Her Black Velvet’s mouth worshipped her, taking slow samples of her body; her tears retreating before her groans. Naked and supine her back arched when long fingers entered her easily through her slick folds, Black Velvet feasting on her breasts. She choked on her breath, her lungs on fire from the heat of Magali’s closeness, and she clawed at the broad, muscular shoulders.

When hungry lips trailed a path down her stomach and along the insides of her thighs, she moaned out in relief. It was real, not an illusion she’d created; Black Velvet devoured her, her tongue caressing the hardened nub that recognized its long awaited petitioner.

Deeply, Magali’s fingers dove into her, riding her with a rhythm that matched her racing pulse. She drank from her Saint’s nectar, an oasis in a desert, saving her life and giving her sustenance. Magali felt Casey tremble, her muscles contracting around her fingers as she stroked the delicate skin inside her. Her release was explosive, and Casey’s groans filled the air as her clit hardened further and thrummed against her tongue.

Casey sat up, reaching for her, exploring her mouth with her tongue, frantically conquering. She felt for the buckle of Magali’s belt, quickly undoing it. When she was naked from the waist down, her Black Velvet latched onto her. Laying on her back and pulling Casey onto her. Magali pushed her center against Casey’s thigh, stroking her back and gripping her ass to push in harder. She opened her eyes, desiring nothing more than to look into her Saint’s eyes as she rode the waves of ecstasy her body was sending forth. Blonde strands of hair fell around her face, enclosing them in a veil of gold, leaving her breathless. She flung her head back, her body becoming weightless in the gust of heaven that rushed in on her. Nothing could bring her closer to flying.

Magali blanketed her lover with her arms, pulling her down to cover her own body and kiss her first breath into her mouth.

"I love you, Casey. I’m torn apart without you."

"I can love no other; you have me, and everything you want from me."

While Magali slept, Casey ran her hand along her body; the loss of weight wasn’t difficult for her to notice. She followed the lines of the tattooed word across her stomach, ‘SIN’. You sure are, Honey, and when I go to hell, I’ll spend my time there with a smile. She cuddled in to her, and Magali threw her arm around her shoulders in her sleep, bringing her closer. With the scent of her Black Velvet near, and warmed through by the heat of her body, Casey let sleep take her.

The smell of something burning woke her with a start, and a soft hand caressed her hair as Casey’s eyes opened to the sight of her Black Velvet’s thigh under her head. Magali was sitting up in bed, smoking and staring off into space. She, apparently, had acquired the use of her leg as a pillow. The white shirt Magali had worn and slept in, too eager to have her Saint to have taken it off, was unbuttoned. White cotton draped her shoulders and fell to her sides, exposing her torso in an erotic framing of her form. Even relaxed as she was, the danger promised by her appearance was piercing. Casey let her eyes wander over Magali’s body, inspecting her newest tattoo in the light and noticing the freshest addition of scars to her body. There was a deep, wide scar just under her right breast, and Casey touched it lightly, tracing its path.

"Did you sleep well?" Magali asked, stroking her neck and back.

"Like a baby," Casey answered in the raspy voice of waking. "Was this it? From the accident?"

Magali nodded and took a pull from her cigarette, flicking the ashes into the square clear ashtray on the night table. "Jesse tried to fix up the stitches as best she could. Still left too wide of a scar."

Casey nuzzled her leg, and sighed. "And the tattoo? When did you get that?" The last time they had been together their bodies had danced in the dark, and she had been too consumed with her Black Velvet’s return to focus on anything other than the ecstasy of the night.

"Prison…I was in one of my…moods." Magali shrugged, finished the cigarette and tamped it out.

Casey continued her exploration, noting a healed puncture wound on her side. "This wasn’t here before."

"Stabbed, when I was up in Bedford."

"Stabbed? Who would be—"

"It was on purpose. I had someone do it so I could get into the infirmary and steal those papers Daly needed."

"On purpose?" Casey repeated, shaking her head. "I don’t know what’s worse--what you do on your own, or what Daly has you do."

Magali slid down and lay on her back, pulling Casey towards her. "When this is over…with Daly, I’m leaving."

Delighted, Casey sat up at her side. "Really?"

Magali held up a hand and pressed her lips together. "Don’t go jumping for joy, hear me out first. I’m tired of the hustle, but it’s what I do best. I own some land, in Latin America…big plantation. The towns around it…" she explained making a circle with her finger, "they live off the work I give them-- schools, hospitals, you name it. I only go there once a year, and no one knows about it. But it’s beautiful, and the government leaves me alone. There are mountains everywhere, huge and green, ice capped, and the sun is always shining." Magali’s face lit up as she spoke, and Casey buried her head in her shoulder to listen. "No shootings, no one goes hungry…people there die of old age. When I’m done with Daly…I’m going there, and I want you to come with me."

Casey rubbed her stomach; her ribs showed a bit more than she liked. "You said it’s a plantation. What kind of plantation?"

Magali sighed; there was always a down side to everything. "It supplies my businesses in New York and a quarter of the East Coast. I get more money from it than anything I run in the States."

Casey lowered herself, and kissed her lips. "I don’t care where we go, as long as I’m with you." She looked into Magali’s smile and narrowed her eyes. "What am I supposed to do there?"

"Do? You’re a doctor, woman. You can go to work like everyone else. God knows they need every little bit of help they can get down there. Most doctors leave for the States where they can make more money."

"I’m not a doctor yet, Gali."

"You will be," she said, her smile widening. Take that Julia.

A banging on the door interrupted anything that could have been, and Magali growled as she got up to open it, grabbing her gun as she did. With the door a jar, she saw it was Daly, busy chewing on yet another toothpick, and opened the door enough for him to see her. His jaw dropped momentarily before he gathered his composure.

"This is becoming a habit. Not that I mind, but are you ever dressed?"

"What do you want?" she rumbled.

"I hate to break up the reunion, but we need to get back east. Get dressed and I’ll fill you in."

She slammed the door and shrugged at Casey, who was hiding herself under the sheet. "Life’s a bitch, and so’s Daly."

***************************************************************

He was sipping his coffee watching the lot of the motel across the street for Magali and Casey to emerge from their room. In front of him was his plate of half-eaten pancakes and scrambled eggs; he would have given anything for a decent bagel. She was easy to spot wearing all white, but then Magali Guerrero rarely hid, the past few weeks being the exception. Even as a youth she had made a point of letting people seeing her do her dirty work; Daly always thought it self-destructive of her. Casey seemed out of place next to her in simple jeans and a cotton blouse that made her look a peasant next to Bajo Zero; though she made a beautiful one at that. He had a few pictures of her in his collection.

When they walked in, every head turned to watch them, especially the tall woman who looked every inch a hit man and capable of the deed. Someone dropped a fork.

Magali waved Casey in first, then took the end of the bench in the booth where Daly was sitting, making sure she had a clear view of the door. Grease and frying bacon scented the diner, and the incessant ringing of the cook’s bell calling to the one waitress added to the noise of the place.

"Okay, Daly. Spill it," Magali ordered, no nonsense as always.

"Aren’t you hungry?" Daly asked, playing with the cold eggs on his plate.

Casey gave her a weary look, having already made a few passing comments about her weight. Magali snatched the fork from his hand and slid his plate over, took a few hasty bites of what was left and swallowed them down with his coffee.

"Happy?" she asked sarcastically into Daly’s aghast expression.

The waitress came by them, huffing her annoyance over yet another customer at a table she had already had trouble with. Daly was a picky eater.

"Can I get you anything?" the woman asked, her eyes focused only on the pad in her hand. Magali cleared her throat and gazed out the window, ignoring the woman, while Casey spoke to her.

"Do you have fruit?"

"What kind?"

"Honey dew melon, strawberries?"

"Nope. How about some oatmeal?"

"I don’t want oatmeal."

"It’s good for you, take the oatmeal," the waitress encouraged.

"But I don’t want it." The woman was beginning to annoy even the patient Casey.

"It’s—" she began, only to have an angry Magali lean close and hiss at her.

"She said she doesn’t fuckin’ want it." The metal stud on Magali’s tongue caught a gleam of light as she spoke.

"How about what he’s having?" Casey amended, feeling the roils of tension radiating from her lover.

Without a word the woman jotted it down on her pad and walked away as fast as she could. Casey breathed in relief.

"She’s gone, Daly. Now talk," Magali said, leaning back and throwing an arm around Casey, giving the diner a once over. Any funny looks they would have received were shot down by her stare.

"New York’s gone crazy," he said pointedly.

"So what else is new? It’s always nuts there."

"Not like this, Zero. Your…friend…Eddie…he’s locked up, everyone thinks you’re dead, and…every goon who thinks he has balls is vying for your spot."

Magali chewed on the inside of her lip; it was her fifteenth year all over again: war in the streets, blood running in the gutters, the city out of control. "What is it with everyone and me being dead, huh? So what am I supposed to do, Daly? Rein it all back in for you?"

"As much as I hate to admit this…without you at its head, there’s more violence and more innocents dying than with you in charge. As long as there’s corruption in the force and hungry people, this shit continues, whether or not it’s you doing it."

"Can we get him out?"

"Who?"

"Eddie, you dolt. Can we get him out?"

"If you can scrounge the money for his bail, sure. But from what I hear, you’re broke. All your distribution centers are in the hands of other dealers; your brother is soaking up anything that’s left over; the Gauntlet and every other corrupt cop are fighting over funds. There’s nothing for you to scrape up. Pardon the expression, but you’re at ground zero. Still, I don’t know anyone else who would be able to make it happen."

The waitress arrived just then with a heaping plate of pancakes, eggs and a few slices of bacon, and put it in front of Casey. Magali smiled, took a piece of the smoky meat and, popping it in her mouth, began to laugh.

"Oh, this is going to be fun," she said, licking her lips. Casey choked on a morsel. "How are we getting back?"

"There’s a flight out tonight, I booked both of you on it." He passed her an envelope and gave her a nod.

"Fine. See you in New York, Daly," she finished, saluting him, and he took it as her final words. After he left, she watched Casey eat, occasionally taking bites from her plate. Dark coils wound themselves within her. Her Saint would have a rough ride, before they would have any peace.

It would take Casey some time to get used to her again, the way she moved in obscure circles. Magali kept things to herself, spoke in code over the phone, constantly looked the street over for anyone approaching in a strange or suspicious manner. She was different in public; she wore her robes and title as proudly as any nobility, cut-throat royalty on the seams of society. As Casey watched her talk on the public phone, perpetually moving and scanning, she admitted to herself that there was an attraction to it all for her. That her tall, dark lover held death by the hand and led it wherever she desired, danced with the devil in the moonlight, commanded minions motivated by greed and blood-thirst, all for some good only her blue eyes saw, was an intoxicant all its own.

Daly had left, leaving them on foot, but not for long. A few phone calls later, and a trip to a Western Union, coupled with a back room conversation with a rental car agent, and they were moving. Casey giggled at the prospect of Magali offering the agent a ‘deal he couldn’t refuse.’ Magali preferred her vehicles big, Casey realized, when they left the agency in a Ford Explorer. They made their way through LA traffic, through streets Casey didn’t recognize, and towards neighborhoods Julia had warned her to stay away from; with Magali, everything rode on the edge. Clean streets and majestic buildings turned into broken down houses barely standing on their foundations, and old telephone poles lining the warped sidewalks. Casey looked out to the faces that walked the streets and congregated in crowds on corners and stoops. These were the workers Julia haphazardly employed.

Magali parked the car in front of a small fenced-in house with a toy-littered yard. Shirtless men across the street spat and eyed the vehicle. They made Casey nervous. She heard them whoop and cheer when her lover opened the door and stood out in the street, throwing her hands up in the air with some sort of sign her fingers made.

"Macha!" they cried out, and Casey wondered exactly how many names her lover was known by.

"Orale, Vatos," Magali shouted at them, and looking back, spoke quickly to Casey before shutting the door. "Stay here, you’ll be alright inside the car."

The boys were making a big deal of her homecoming, and Magali was almost worried that they would start firing guns into the air and scare Casey half to death. She shook hands with some of them, giving a short explanation she made up of how she was out on bail and the suit was her ‘court suit.’ They bought it all, her story not an uncommon one among them.

"Hijole, Macha!" she heard from the porch of the house, and turned just in time to see Martina run through the yard and then throw herself on her. "You’re alright! We looked everywhere for you. Shit, we must have gone to four different police stations looking for you. They didn’t have any records or anything, Cabrone. Where the hell have you been?"

Magali pried her off, furtively directing her eyes towards the car and the person inside it.

"The girl?"

Magali nodded. "It’s a long story, Marti, and I don’t have time to tell you, but—"

"Good, then maybe she’ll give me a hand in fucking you up, Macha!" Martina yelled and began to rail down on her with open and backhanded slaps.

"What the…? Marti, stop!" Magali yelled, ducking the woman’s blows.

"I told you, Macha…if you brought it into my house, I would kill you."

The boys laughed until she glared at them, grabbing Martina’s flailing hands.

"What are you talking about?" she spat.

"Joker. He’s in his room right now, probably shooting up, the bastard."

"No," Magali whispered, and clenched her jaw. She had known he was dabbling, had meant to talk to him after the funeral, put him straight before it was too late. "I’ll fix it, Marti. I swear."

"You better," she barked, struggling against Magali’s hold.

Casey rolled the window down and poked her head through, confusion written across her face. "Everything all right, Gali?" She wasn’t sure she liked the beating Magali was getting from the strange woman.

Martina stopped fighting and gave her a quizzical look. "Gali?"

"Magali Guerrero, Marti. That’s my name…my real name."

Martina froze. Stock still, she flinched inwardly. "I know that name. My man kept a scrapbook of newspaper clippings, he…Bajo Zero." She whispered the pseudonym as if saying it too loud would call hell forth.

"That’s right, Marti. And now…your brother’s about to find out, too."

Miguelito ran to her from where he had been playing, and Magali picked him up and kissed his forehead. "Keep him out here," she commanded, and handing him over to Martina, stomped through the yard and into the house.

It was quiet; the scent of cleaning solvents and baby lotions perfumed the house. Martina hadn’t started cooking yet. She felt the burden of the furious woman’s change in expression; the look in her eyes had transformed into fear--the same look everyone else looked at her with, everyone but her Saint-- and it injured something inside her. A newly formed artery was severed then, and its bleeding emptied her of the sense of belonging the family had given her. A feeling she had lost once before when she found herself alone and in a courtroom, surrounded by strangers, silently crying out for a familial face.

Joker’s room was the furthest back, and through the closed door she could hear the music he was playing. She didn’t knock, simply pushing the door open and walking in. He barely moved from where he was splayed over the bed. A quick glance around the room, and she spotted what she was searching for. The large, clear bag of powder she had lifted from the drug dealer the night they had robbed him laid openly on his dresser. At the time it hadn’t occurred to her to ask what they would do with the drugs--she was only interested in the money-- and now she kicked herself for it. Pinching her fingers along the plastic locking seal over the top of the bag, she closed it and wandered over to the bed where Joker had yet to recognize her. She dangled it over his face.

"You like this shit, motherfucker?"

He made to grab for it, but his movements were sluggish and she snatched it out of his reach. "Hey," he drawled out. "Gimme that, Vata."

"I ain’t giving you shit. This…is going in the toilet, and you…are going to a rehab."

The boy shook his head, the side of his mouth dripping with drool. The beast stirred inside her, and she kicked the bed before walking out of the room. In the bathroom across from his room, Magali lifted the lid of the toilet and undid the bag, pouring it carefully into the bowl so as not to let any of the crystalline powder fall to the floor. Joker would try to sweep it up. She almost lost her balance and crashed into the wall when Joker jumped on her back, desperately trying to grab the bag away from her. She threw back an elbow, flinging him off of her and continued her disposal of the lethal drug. It floated on the water in small clumps before dissolving into the liquid and disappearing.

Joker roared behind her and charged at her again, aiming for the bag. Quickly she turned to ward him off, and her abrupt movement made the bag in her hand swing uncontrollably. White powder briefly clouded the air and Magali cursed when she felt it hit her face and coat Joker’s chest. She threw a fist, a quick jab that put an end to Joker’s fight, then wiped her face. There was no mistaking the bitter taste in her mouth, the tickle of it in her nostrils, the sting in her eyes, and she dropped the rest of the bag’s contents in the toilet before it could take hold of her. Her heart raced and her face went numb, the room seethed and wavered under her feet.

"God damn it," she hissed and held onto the wall. It would be over soon, the initial flow of the drug into her system, and then the euphoria would settle.

"Macha? Shit! Macha!" Martina cried, putting her shoulder under Magali’s arm and holding her up. "What the fuck happened?"

"It sprayed…I breathed some in." She was panting, her gut warming to the feel of the intoxicant. "Just get me to the couch, Marti. I’ll...be alright in a few minutes."

"Joker," Martina gasped.

"He’ll be fine…I just knocked...him out."

They got to the couch, and Martina helped her slump into it, a smile creeping onto Magali’s face.

"Your girl. What’s her name? Let me get her."

"No!" Magali heaved. "Tell her…I’ll be right out. Keep her outside…Just give me a few minutes. Okay?"

Martina nodded, and Magali laughed at her as she left, grabbing her midsection.

Damn, damn, damn. I could kill that little sonofabitch. Why didn’t I wear something over my face? I knew this could happen. I must be getting dumber in my old age. Fuck..have to catch the plane. She had never noticed the beauty of the living room’s curtains nor the pattern of brush strokes on the wall’s paint. This is going to hurt later.

"Macha? Hey, Macha? It’s been more than a few minutes. You alright yet?"

Magali nodded. The euphoria was there, and if the sky had decided to fall at that moment, it wouldn’t have bothered her, but she could walk. She fished in her pocket for the wad of money there and peeled off a few of the bills and put them away. The rest of the bundle she pressed into Martina’s hand.

"Take this and send him to a rehab. You tell the guys to take him and leave him there. A good one, Marti. He’s underage, so you can sign him in. Make sure it’s a good one, or they’ll let him out too early. Got it?" she insisted. Had she been old enough she would have been able to sign her youngest brother into one as well, before it was too late, but that hadn’t been possible at the time. Instead, she lived with the pain of it and the guilt of her own hand in it.

"Yeah, Macha. I got it. What about you, homie. This going to make you sick?"

Magali nodded and patted her leg. "It’s alright, Marti. I’ll take care of it later. Right now…I have to get to the airport."

"What about your things? Your bike?"

"I’ll send for it later. Just…there’s a T-shirt rolled up on the bottom of one of the saddlebags, and my knife. Can you bring them to me?"

"Sure, no problem. Macha?"

Magali only grunted.

"I told her what happened, she’s worried sick about you."

"Casey? You tol’ her?"

"She had to know, Macha. How the hell were you going to explain that look in your eyes?"

Magali slumped, burrowing into the cushions of the couch and hoping to vanish. "Call her in."

Martina left quickly, the screen door slamming behind her. When it opened again Casey padded carefully to her, sitting cautiously by her and stroking her face.

"Honey? What can I do for you?"

"Nothing. It’ll pass."

Eventually it would, and then she would crave it. She could wean herself away taking smaller doses of the stuff and larger doses of pure will, deal with the pain of it, or purchase stolen methadone. At the moment she couldn’t think which would be worse. Martina returned with the bundle she requested, and she pulled her ring and necklace from the cloth, putting them back on, where they had always adorned her-- the vestments of Bajo Zero were complete with the gun Daly had returned to her. Casey picked up the knife that fell to the ground and placed it at her own throat. Magali thought to stop her but was slow in saying so, and Casey flicked through the leather collar that hung on her neck. The departure was a fog. Martina kissed her cheek and smiled at her; it was filled with the same care she had always received from the woman, and if it had mattered then Magali would have felt the loss of the family she had grown to care for. Miguelito placed his slobbery version of a caress on her other cheek.

"Vaya con dios, hermana."

Sister. Magali raised her hand as the truck pulled away from the yard.

Casey drove, and she slept on the way to the airport and, by the time they arrived, her mind was clear enough to meet her contact and give him her weapons for smuggling onto the plane.

Racing into the air, above the clouds and smog of Los Angeles, Magali looked down to the city. It surged across the landscape, blanketing the land with squares and long sand-colored lines. Casey sat next to her, her head leaning on her shoulder, her hand in Magali’s lap. She closed her eyes and let the serenity fill her-- the humming of the plane, the perfume of her Saint. When she opened them next, the accusing finger of the Empire State building would be pointing up at her.

Continued - Part 7

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