He should've known things would end up going wrong. The job had gone far too easily at the start, his intended target agreeing to meet in that clearing with no questions asked; the old goat hadn't even asked his name! The mammals that had rushed from the woods shouldn't have surprised him like that, but it still hadn't stopped him from making short work of them. He smirked, imagining how the cops wouldn't be able to make sense of the scene: the wannabe bodyguards lying beat and unconscious in pools of their own teeth and blood. The old bastard lying in his own corner of the clearing, a star-tipped round lodged deep in his brain. That had been the best part, getting to glare into those terrified eyes as he'd pulled the trigger, one more greedy, selfish life ended with an inch of lead.

He glanced up when the moon cleared the clouds, a white sliver in a starless black sky. He groaned in pain, the throb of cracked ribs starting to push past fading adrenaline. He revved the bike's engine, the powerful machine growling loudly in response, echoing behind as he sped down the empty street. The fact he'd managed to slash his hand on a branch during the fight wasn't doing anything to help his mood.

They better not short me this time, he slowed as the meeting place came into view: squat, derelict building that had been abandoned for decades, if not a century. Coming to a stop in the overgrown ruins of the tiny parking lot, shaking his hand to try and ease the sting the burn across his knuckles. The old bandana he'd tied around the wound was already damp with sweat and blood. Pulling the small flashlight from his pocket, since it couldn't be tracked like a cell, he flicked it on and looked around, his open jacket starting to flutter in the growing breeze.

The faded red paint was cracked and flaking, patches worn right to the siding, shards of scattered window glass glinting when the narrow light beam hit them. The door had fallen off its rust-eaten hinges, lying cracked in two at his feet. He ducked under the broken cobwebs clogging the frame, tugged up his hood when he saw they were even worse inside. The striped wallpaper was rotted and peeling, shredded by claws, the walls themselves layered with a dirty rainbow of graffiti, chunks of crumbling plaster scattered across the cracked and pocked wooden floor. Dust filtered into the stale air with each step, disturbing the tracks that already streaked and dotted it, making him grateful for the half mask they made him wear to help hide his face. He dodged a broken bulb swinging in the breeze on a stripped wire, the crunch of glass beneath his rough foot wraps abnormally loud in the silent, dismal place.

It's actually starting to creep me out, he admitted silently, swiping at his tearing eyes with his sleeve. The visor on his helmet had broken off, so he'd been stuck with the cold autumn wind and dirt from the road blowing into them.

"You took your sweet time," a deep, harsh voice said behind him. He knew the heavy accent well, though the words were still hard to understand. He turned toward the chilling tone, thankful that, at least, no longer got to him. He glared at the mammal dressed in black in the corner, hating the smug, mocking smile in their eyes, the only part of them he could see.

"He brought friends," he answered flatly, shrugging carelessly. "I took care of them, though."

The other mammal chuckled.

"As you always do, don't you?" he reached in the bag at his side and took out one of several large yellow envelopes, no doubt payment for the others.

"Your money's in there," he tossed it, a cloud of dust rising when it landed at his feet. "And some info about your new job, I think you'll like this one."

He chuckled again, then turned and slipped through another doorway, the door itself hanging crookedly by one broken hinge. The younger male waited until he was sure the 'messenger' was gone before snatching his prize off the floor, then headed out. He didn't let his guard down, even as he pushed off his hood to tug on his helmet.

Freak…

The wind had picked up, as he woke his bike and sped away, not wanting to linger there any longer than he had to. He'd barely kept his head attached last time. The moon was already starting to set when he got home, stowing his bike in the garage before cutting straight to his room. He dropped on his bed, sighing in relief at the feel of it before turning his head toward the packet, groaning softly in annoyance in he sat back up to grab it from his nightstand. He knew he'd never get to sleep if he didn't open it now. Snatching the knife from his belt, he sliced it open, making sure the money matched his price before focusing on the papers folded at the bottom. His eyes narrowed when he saw the note written across the first page.

'This job is going to be different, you've been assigned to protect this girl, not to kill her.'

Hr groaned again; he was a field agent, not a bodyguard. He scanned the info quickly, noting her yellow belt in karate; maybe this wouldn't be quite as boring as he'd thought. Several photos were paper-clipped to the last page: a gray-furred rabbit doe standing with an older buck, likely a brother, in front of a coffee shop. She was older in the second, slightly crouched as she got ready to shoot a basket. He rolled his eyes and skipped to the last one, his mouth going dry as his jaw dropped.

It was a full-body shot of her in a beaded azure bikini, the color perfect for her, one slim hand brushing through the exposed tuft of white fur on her chest, the other caressing the sweeping curve of her hip. He suddenly ached to lose himself in those shining lavender eyes, amplified by thick lashes and dark eyeshadow, her glossed pink lips curled in the barest hint of a seductive smile. He swallowed thickly, turning back to the first page.

'Name: Hopps, Judith L

Date of Birth: 13, July, 1997

Current Location: Blackwood Cove, California'

At least he knew where to find her, but her file had made it sound like she'd lived a perfectly normal life, so why would she need protection? Had one of her parents done something, or gotten themselves into some kind of trouble?

Guess I'll just have to find out.

For a guidebook, this thing doesn't say much…

Judy flipped absently through it again, her lilac eyes darting to the window every few seconds. The one-bedroom apartment was on the top floor of a new complex on the edge of town, less than a mile from the docks. The ferry was the only public way to or from White Island, hardly fifty square miles, most of it still covered by forest. The slim book she'd managed to snag from the visitor's center had plenty of history, but next to nothing about the town currently.

But it's still better than going on blind…

'White Island sits thirty miles off the coast of northern California,' she read for about the fiftieth time. 'It's so named for the limestone bluffs that protected the original settlement from rough weather, which surrounds it to this day. One local legend also claims that—'

She snapped it shut and turned it back to the window. The two-lane road that led to town cut right through what was left of that bluff, after almost two centuries of being hacked at for construction material. It also passed a large sign, made of planks painted a cheery white and blue, welcoming everyone to the little town of Blackwood Cove, proudly established in 1834.

The sun was just starting to set, highlighting the forest in amber as the bright blue sky faded to the violet of a late summer twilight. As excited as she was for the chance to start a new life, to try and forget what had happened, she still longed for the one she knew had ended years ago.

'Ended' would be putting it mildly, she decided. It would be more accurate to say it had gone up in crazy, blood-tinged flames. The few officers she'd managed to talk to had said they couldn't confirm a culprit, or a motive, and that it just as likely could've been a terrible accident. Even with what little she'd understood back then, she'd known they'd been lying. She'd wanted to scream at them, to say it all could have been avoided if they'd just paid attention in the first place. But they hadn't, and everyone around her had been forced to pay the price. Well, nearly everyone.

Why did it have to happen, she pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in her arms. What did we do to deserve all this?!

Her eyes burned, but the tears wouldn't come. She'd buried them too deep for too long. She swiped at her cheek, then nudged the book from its spot on the back of the couch. It fell open, showing another passage she'd read a hundred times.

'A thick forest of pine, maple, oak and birch still covers most of the island, the oldest trees dating back to before the first settlement. A large underground spring in the east hills feeds a web of ponds and streams.'

She skipped ahead, skimming the story of how the first settlers had stumbled upon a deep vein of pure silver, one family taking control of the new mine and trade, while another began organizing and building the town. According to records, a ring of scorched trees had surrounded a small inlet, the only clear path in the rocky waters surrounding the island, leading those pilgrims to name their new home Blackwood Cove.

She tossed it on the glass coffee table and stretched out on the plush white couch, trying to ignore the bruises and scabs peeking through the fur on her legs. Miranda, one of her best friends, had assured her the chest was still waiting in her attic, full of the only things Judy had been able to save. She'd promised to send it as soon as Judy told her it was safe, that she'd finally gotten away from the mammal that had ruined everything.

I'm not about to let her take anything else from me, she snatched the book and stuffed it under the glossy pale end table, just as a set of keys jungled softly outside. The locked clicked, and the door swung open, an older, cream-colored beauty strutting in like it was the Paris catwalk.

"You're still awake," the jill murmured dismissively, staring at herself in her favorite baby blue compact. Judy's cold stare grew icier as Kara dropped her matching purse on the tiny kitchen counter, blowing herself a kiss before snapping the compact shut.

"How'd it go?" Judy asked flatly. Her stepmother had gone that morning to sign the last of the paperwork, putting an end to their month-long stint in the little apartment.

"Everything should be here tomorrow," she grabbed her purse, tossing Judy a white paper bag as she headed for the bedroom. "And before I forget, I got you something."

She shut the door and locked it, Judy's mouth starting to water when she saw Sweet Tooth in pale pink frosting letters across the front of the bag. She ripped open the top, pulling out a chocolate donut topped with powdered sugar, a local specialty that had become one of her favorites. She took a large bite, licking at the sugar that stuck to her lips, moaning happily at the sweet tartness of fresh raspberry jam. That was the best part.

She fished the napkin from the bag when she finished, heading to the kitchen to clean herself up; it was almost impossible to eat those things neatly.

I should take care of the carpet before she's done in there, she glanced at the closed door, sighing in relief when she heard running water. She could clean the apartment twice over in the time it took that bitch to bathe. I don't want to give her another reason to…

She swallowed hard, forcing the thought from her mind. She'd already spent enough time on it today, and there was still plenty else for her to worry about.

Kara came into the living room two hours later, her dyed, damp fur lying flat against her skin; she tied her blue cashmere bathrobe tightly around her trim waist. The long, perfumed soak in the tub had been just what she'd needed, after everything she'd had to put up with. It had taken that real estate agent far too long to find the right house, even longer to persuade the sellers to accept what it had really been worth.

Then, there had been Judy.

The doe had always been a problem, and had recently decided she was old enough to not have to listen any longer. Fortunately, reigning in troublemakers was what Kara Hopps excelled at. Walking into the living room, she wasn't surprised to see Judy passed out on the floor, the pale carpet by her head dotted with crumbs, her hand draped limply over a half-dried paper towel. Judy had always had issues with food, especially candy and desserts. She picked up the crinkled Sweet Tooth bag and set it on the coffee table, recalling how easy it had been to add her own little surprise to the donut. The sedative was sure to keep Judy down for the rest of the night, if not even longer.

"Oh, you poor thing," she smirked as she said it, kneeling down to swipe the guidebook from its hiding place. Judy had really thought she'd gotten away with buying it on the sly. With mocking tenderness, she brushed through some of the fur on the girl's temple, tracing the edge of a small, fading bruise at her temple. Yet another of the reminders she'd chosen to ignore. "When will you figure out that you can't hide anything from me?"

She nudged Judy's head aside, grabbed the thin, ratty blanket from the end table cabinet, shook it out and threw it carelessly over the unconscious girl; no point in letting her get sick. The book went right into the trash with the bag, where they both belonged.

She'll figure it out eventually, she looked back over her shoulder, her full pink lips curling in a faint, disgusted sneer. If she knows what's good for her.