WARNING- people die, horribly, in this chapter. A few people die. No main characters, but it's brutal. Just a warning. And some use of the F and D word.

.

Chapter Nine

Tooth and Claw

.

.

"Hello, pretty lady," Joker murmured. The diabolical snap of his voice gave Danni violent shivers, but he wasn't talking to her. He wasn't even looking at her. He only had eyes for blank, glassy eyed, murderous Rose and the jerk crushing her to his chest. The painted man grinned, flashing his noxious yellow teeth, and almost snarled, "Can I play?" There was something darkly gleeful in that request. The words were so childish and yet so... demonic. So vicious. Hell burned in the clown's midnight eyes, and Danni shuddered, feeling something deep inside her lift its head and make a small noise of question, a curious kitten sound. It was almost as if whatever phantom danced behind the Joker's eyes was inviting her inner beast to come out and play. The brunette shuddered again, harder, and Crystal gave her a sympathetic look. As if the blonde woman knew. As if she understood. But... how could she...

"Sure, Joker," Rose whispered. She could feel the moron shackling her with his arms stiffen, as if she'd told him that he was going to be forced to French kiss a hooded, gleaming fanged cobra. The older woman grinned, baring her gleaming teeth, so stark white against the blood red lips. The Dark Passenger's tenebrous anticipation gave them an added luster, like steel knives. "Sure," she repeated, and her voice held the undercurrent of a growl. "Come and play."

Part of Rose was screaming. It shuddered at the idea of being touched by any man, especially a member- even if that member was just a grunt- of the Mob. A little piece of that shuddering part was also running around in circles, panicking, screaming its head off at the idea of the Joker coming towards them, doing a childlike little skip-hop as he mumbled, "Da-dee-dum! Da-dee-dum!" His hair bounced, gleaming chrome green in the light of the stage. He had a soft smile on his face, twisted by the slashing, scarlet smile painted there. But the rest of Rose, the part of her that snarled for survival, that called to the three women she loved most to stand up and let loose, just grinned, waiting for the fun to begin. Screw trying a mind rape- all that would probably get her were some antsy idiots with guns and a reaction headache. Ah, the pitfalls of psychic ability. It wasn't really good for anything excet knowing when someone wanted to hurt you.

Are we going to fight? The Dark Passenger demanded as it pulled itself out of its little pool of hot blood. The crimson liquid poured off of its skin, staining the ivory complexion with splotches of scarlet. Rose grinned, replying, Yes. Let him make the first move, though. We don't want to break the rules, now, do we?

What about Crystal? The Passenger snapped, trying to get Rose to look around, scan the theatre, focus on something other than the Joker coming slowly towards her, almost as if he were stalking her.

But the redhead didn't need to look at her sister to know just what she was doing. She was waiting. A stupid person might think she was trying to hide, to hold completely still until the predator passed by, unknowing that she was hiding there, quivering with fear. A stupid person could think that. But an intelligent person who knew a predator when they saw one would know that it was the exact opposite. Here was a hunter, golden silk garrotte wires and violet glass knives, bloody teeth and waiting claws, ready to carve out someone's heart- and the rest of their vital organs- and roll around in them like a kitten with catnip.

And what about Sadie?

Rose ignored the irritating berserker in her head, watching as the clown put one foot in front of the other. Her heart pounded, her blood rushing through her ears like the tide, calling... calling. She needed to focus on the Joker. If she didn't focus on something, someone, that tidal pull would suck her under like a wave and she would go mad. Maybe for a few minutes, until there was no one else to butcher. Maybe for a few days, until a cop shot her, put her down like a rabid dog. Maybe for forever, for the rest of her life. She couldn't just slide into the scarlet in her mind, not now. She couldn't go mad now, not yet.

Sadie gave a small cough, and Rose blinked. Sadie was still on the ground, she realized, when her youngest sister groaned. What had they done to her? She must have missed whatever had happened to Sadie, but the pain and gentle irritation sparking off of her was enough to tell Rose that if things didn't get resolved soon, Sadie was going to be a problem.

She did a quick mental check on the other two.

Crystal... as soon as she got within breathing distance of Crystal's mind, she immediately backed off. She couldn't afford to get a case of brain freeze just so she could make sure the blond woman wasn't contemplating mass murder.

And Danni... touching Danni's mind was like opening the door to a homicidal six-year-old's surprise birthday party. It gave her a headache. Excitement, anger, mad joy, black hate, the entire rainbow spectrum of emotions. And the icing on the cake: at the core of that pathological maelstrom was a sphere of blankness, with barely sheathed claws, barely covered teeth. Leonine, predatory blankness, animal fury, feline curiosity for the pain of the prey. And the sphere was getting bigger and bigger, the teeth coming out, the claws unsheathing.

"Hey, I know you," the idiot holding Rose suddenly cried. "You're that freak."

Something more painful than hatred slammed into Danni, something that made her stomach twist and her skin crawl even as her eyes blazed. It was too primal, too primitive, to be hatred. It was electric hell, broiling death, chaotic torture. And it was centered around the man in the face paint. The tiny undercurrents of rage and shock weren't coming from him, though.

Each of the four women had been, on several occassions, called freaks by their "masters." They hated that word. Danni hated that word. So she was a freak? So she had problems? Even though the freaking mob bosses were so messed up, Carmine Falcone- her old owner- had ended up in Arkham Asylum screaming about some guy called the Scarecrow? Yet she and her sisters were considered freaks. The Joker, because he wore face paint to make himself look like a clown, was called a freak? What about the Scarecrow? He wore a freaking burlap bag over his head! What about Batman? He dressed up like a flying rodent! And yet Danni had heard the word freak branded into her mind every day for her entire life... because she knew things, somehow. Because Crystal could read minds. Because Rose could sense others' emotions. Because Sadie... well, no one really wanted to consider what Sadie could do when pressed. They were freaks.

The beast inside her roared. Like racing up a tunnel from the very back bottom of her subconscious to the fore front of her mind, snarling and slavering, something slammed into her body with the force of a hurricane. She sank her teeth into her lip, tasting lipstick and blood. Her hands bunched into fists, white knuckled as she tried to get herself under control. Leave it to everyone on their shit list to pick up on her buzz word- freak.

"You are so stupid," Danni hissed. Her fingertips began to tingle, and her nose twitched.

Crystal thought for just a moment about hauling Danni back when she began stalking towards the goon with their fearless leader in his arms, but when the Good Child squeaked in fear at the thought of touching the petite brunette woman, Crystal thought better of it. Danni was sliding into the zone. Not just the zone, but The Zone. The older blonde bared her teeth in a chilling smile, her eyes hardening to violet ice chips. Well, if Danni was in her little static zone, ready for slaughter, then maybe she should get into the sanguine spirit of things, too. But Sadie... was she going to join in the game or was she still on the floor?

Sadie spat blood onto the stage, apologizing silently to her favorite place- the stage of the Queen of Swords- and tried getting to her feet, ignoring the throbbing nausea pulling at her. She didn't barf- the taste would be awful. Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to ignore the insidious suggestions in her head about what she ought to do to the jerk who'd kicked her in the freaking face. She could feel her eye swelling, aching, and she knew that fairly soon, she wouldn't need makeup to give herself purple eyelids. But she could ignore that right now, too. Instead, she focused on the Joker, who stood watching them all with a casual air that she wasn't quite sure he was faking.

That bum has your eyeshadow on his boot heel, one of the Whisperers hissed. Sadie glanced at said bum, and saw a swatch of glittering violet powder on the black boot. She bit her cheek harder, tasting blood, as the Whisperers muttered, He ruined your makeup. You spent so much time working on your face, and with one kick he ruined everything.

Maybe it was pathetic that she cared so much about her makeup, but it was part of what she was as a performer. It was her mask, that makeup, combined with her clothes, her jewelry, and her shoes. And these mob jerks had come in and broken up the show, interrupting her turn at the microphone. She was the main star of the song, dammit!

"A freak?" Joker asked, still smiling. "I don't think these lovely ladies like that word. Do you, pretty lady?" He added, and winked one dark eye at Rose. She knew the sign: go ahead and make your move.

Rose smiled and, taking a page out of Crystal's book, slammed her head into the jerk's nose. She could feel the appendage crumble and give beneath the crushing impact of her skull, could feel blood spurting out of his nostrils and soaking her hair, leaving it sticky and wet with scarlet. Snarling, she twisted and writhed in the guy's arms until she slipped out of his slowly weakening grip. She hit the floor on her knees, and pain shot up her thighs and down her calves. The Dark Passenger screamed in outrage at being injured, and before she realized what she was doing, Rose was swinging her leg around so that the hard, wooden, nail-studded heel of her character shoe slammed into the mob goon's knee cab. She felt more than heard the vicious crack

He fell to the floor, howling about his broken nose and his broken knee, and she was on him immediately, slamming her fists into his face. She was snarling, screaming, unintellible words pouring out of her mouth in a flood of burning rage. How dare he touch her? How dare he come here?! How dare he treat her this way? Who the fuck did he think he was? Who did he think she was? Her hands ached, and her elbows were starting to hurt from the constant bending.

Suck it up! The Dark Passenger snapped, but she could taste its savage grin. You do worse than this during rehearsal! Come on, suck it up! Don't stop! Keep it up!

Her face hurt where the guy kept hitting her, but every blow was weaker than the last, until it was like being hit by a feather. It didn't matter, she had to make this jerk understand why there was going to be punishment. What was his deal, anyway? Mob goons always thought they could get away with everything! But seriously! She snarled to herself, baring her teeth in a rictus grin. She tasted blood.

The Dark Passenger squealed in delight.

Seriously! Did he really think he could just waltz in here and mess up her evening and not suffer any consequences? Didn't he understand what was going on here? Didn't he get how important the fucking show was, dammit?! Why was everyone so fucking desperate to get themselves on her bad side? Did they want her to lose her temper? Did they want her to explode on them? Is this what they wanted? Was it? Was it?! WAS IT?!

She was screaming the question over and over again and hadn't realized it. Her fists were bruising now, turning pale blue beneath the scarlet splatter. The man beneath her wasn't moving anymore. The Dark Passenger giggled in the back of her mind as she stopped, suddenly, realizing that she wasn't being hit anymore. She sat back, resting her butt on the guy's stomach, and stared at the pulpy mess that had been the guy's face. She could see bone fragments in that meaty slop, and the liquid pink and gray of mashed brain. No wonder her knuckles were stinging so badly. One finger throbbed insistantly, telling her she'd dislocated the first knuckle of her middle finger. There was blood, ragged bits of flesh, and white gelatinous gloppage that might have been eyeball under her nails.

"Holy shit..." Someone moaned.

Rose's head jerked up, in the direction of that terrified sound. It was one of the goons, the one who'd kicked Sadie in the face. He was staring at Rose like a child terrified of the monsters, a child who knew that this person in front of him was the biggest, baddest, most ferocious monster there was.

She smiled at him, and his gray pants went dark with urine. He slid to the floor, whimpering. He fumbled for the gun he was supposed to have inside his jacket.

Sadie scuttled over to him, a little white and black spider with beast eyes framed in violet electricity, and her teeth sank into his arm. She couldn't get her teeth through the thick material of the coat, but it distracted him from the gun, and instead he tried, almost feebly, to push her away.

She didn't let him.

Instead, being the incredible acrobat she was, she immediately wrapped her legs around his torso and one arm around his throat, cutting off his air. He gasped- or tried to- and gagged, choking, beating at her arm. She thought idly that she'd have bruises later, but right now she would simply focus on hanging on while watching Crystal and Danni launch themselves into action. Danni went to Sadie, and Crystal went after the jerk who'd

The Joker grinned where he stood, holding the bleeding corpse of one of the goons. His knife was wet with blood. He began laughing. Who would've thought this would've been so much fun? Blood, violence, gore, terror, chaos. And those women!

Still smiling, giggling to himself, he skipped his way up to wear Rose sat on her victim, staring at the hamburger she'd made of the moron's face. When his shoes clacked on the stage right beside her, she stared up at him, and grinned. Gesturing to the corpse, she asked softly, "Do you approve?"

That absinthe-from-hell look was back in her eyes, heady, intoxicating. Joker felt almost drunk, staring into those eyes. He couldn't decide which was more gorgeous- the demented fury in her gaze or the bloody mess that had once been a goon from the mob. Did he approve? Did he approve of a woman slicked up past her wrists with blood, hair wet with the stuff, eyes wild, face spattered with it? He saw blood drip in a tiny trail down her chin and realized she must have bit her lip while she was killing the muscle man. From what he'd seen before she'd started beating him, she'd slammed the bones of his nose up into his brain. It would explain the ease with which she'd taken him out.

Yes, he approved. Oh, yes. If only something would blow up...

"What is she doing?" He asked instead of answering her. He was watching Crystal pound on one of the guys' stomachs. It was the guy whose nose she'd broken, who'd tried to crawl away from her. Every time she slammed her fist down onto his gut, he spasmed. His shirt, once pristine and snowy white, was now stained with blood. The stains were growing.

"Prepping him. Eventually, she'll get around to gutting him," Rose replied, smiling still. She felt oddly detached, and strangely relaxed. Shouldn't she still be in a panic about being grabbed? About the Joker's presence? Shouldn't she be more concerned about the fact that she'd dislocated a finger? Shouldn't she care that she'd murdered someone?

Self defense, the Dark Passenger hissed, grinning. Rose found her lips stretching and twisting into an answering smile. Someone like that, you hurt till they're dead. You know that. And if you want proof you're not a monster, look at Crystal.

Crystal grinned as blood spurted upwards and hit her in the face. Even while she was hacking the bastard up, he was trying to fight back against the fact that every time she brought her fist down, her pocket knife sank into his body until the hilt slammed into his stomach. She could feel her ice melting as the blood sprayed up with every thrust. Her sisters knew to leave her alone, knew what was coming. Her entire body shook and shuddered, quivering with the adrenaline and hatred suffusing every cell of her body.

"Try to touch me!" She shrieked, slamming the blade in so deep the flesh tore against the handle of her pocket knife. Her eyes burned like indigo hell and her flesh burned, burned to destroy, devour, decimate, decapitate. Something, anything, as long as there was blood and pain! She snarled, "Try to kidnap me!" She stabbed in and hauled on the knife, slicing open the belly from sternum to pelvis. Her victim- her enemy, she snarled inwardly- screamed weakly as blood poured and steel sliced. "Your friend kicked my sister, you fucker!" She added, voice twisting viciously as hacked at her inelegant incision, widening it until she could stop with the knife and use her hands. Reaching into the body, plunging her hands in until she was bloody up to the elbows, ignoring the crimson staining her favorite tux shirt and the blood oozing out to contaminate her hair, she grabbed something squishy, pulpy, wet, raw, and ripped it out. The mob goon under her tender hand screamed once more and went still. She briefly wondered if she'd grabbed his appendix or his spleen or what, and then went back to ripping out the slippery, sanguine internal organs. Every so often, she'd snarl some obscenity.

Danni and Sadie waited patiently for Crystal to finish, staring at the man who, in life, had kicked Sadie in the face. Sadie could feel the lip swelling, still bleeding. Her face was starting to swell, too. Danni was cleaning the blood off of her hands on their victim's shirt. She didn't want to think about what she'd done to the jerk right now- ripping out his tongue, puncturing his eardrums with her fingernails, destroying his eyeballs with a couple of well placed thumb thrusts, crushing his testicles, biting through to his carotid artery. That was deliciously private. She'd think about it later.

You and I are very well adjusted, aren't we? Her inner blankness whispered. Everyone else is so ill at ease with their inner demons.

Not that guy, Danni contradicted, indicating the Joker slitting a man's throat who'd tried to rip out a chunk of Rose's hair. He has no issues with his inner demons.

He is his own inner demon, Danni. He's nuts. Do you think Crystal's done?

Shrugging, the brunette helped a wobbly Sadie to her feet. The world swam for a moment, and she was sure, again, that she had a concussion. Supporting the quiet girl, they trudged over to where Rose sat on the stage, watching Crystal as she finished with the organs and began sliced up the face, panting and snarling, almost screaming with her fury. She looked like she would melt into a puddle of blood, her hair flying everywhere, scarlet staining her clothes, crimson smeared on her cheeks.

Then, as if someone had thrown a switch, Crystal stopped. She smiled. Wiped some blood off of her cheek on her sleeve. Got to her feet and practically skipped over to everyone else. "We should get out of here before the cops come," she said cheerily. Rose got to her feet, and asked, "Do you feel better now?" Crystal nodded happily, sighing as if relieved, and repeated, "Cops coming."

"We go out the back," Joker ordered. That was how Rose had smuggled him in, after all. Surely they knew how to escape such a familiar building. But the three women who were with Rose jerked their heads around to stare at him, hostility and hatred warring in their eyes. He could see the hatred, the fire, and had to fight not to smile. The painted man only looked at the absinthe-eyed redhead, still spattered with beautiful blood, and she said calmly, "We won't get picked up by the cops that way. Come on, let's get clothes. We can change on the move."

"Why change?" Danni asked, as they all hurried backstage. She loved how Rose could be so furiously angry one minute and so incredibly calm the next. It was awesome, and it was useful. Like now.

"We're covered in blood," Rose said dryly. "We look like homicidal hookers."

"Well dressed homicidal hookers," Crystal said icily, but she was smiling. They made it to Crystal's dressing room- the one place you'd have to have a severe and ever present death wish to break into to pull any pranks. Hence why the Damundo sisters and Danni kept their spare clothes in here. "We change, then what?"

"Home," Rose said.

They all stopped in their tracks. The three other women were thinking the same thing, but it was Crystal who said it: "We're taking this guy home with us?"

"He helped us," Rose reminded her. "He took out two of those jerks."

Not for us, he didn't, Crystal hissed in her older sister's mind. He did it because he likes to kill things.

Doesn't matter, Rose replied. Trust me, Crys. He's going to help us.

Help us what? Get away with murder?

Among other things, she said, and grabbed a spare undershirt, bra, and pants, as well as her white tennis shoes. She didn't really think any cops would check her underwear for blood spatter right now- not that she had any on there- but her bra was starting to dig into her ribs and it hurt. Ignoring the shivers now running up and down her body, trying to ignore the sudden chill to her skin and the room, she added, I don't know how I know this, but you have to trust me. We all need him. All four of us. He's like us.

Yeah, except unlike the rest of us, he has no control.

Not true, Crys. You know that, you saw what I saw- him and Gamble. You think he didn't want to do something about that? Like we all do? Look, you gotta trust me.

Yes, O Fearless Leader, the blond woman muttered sarcastically. Aloud, she added to Sadie and Danni, "So, apparently, we're gonna keep the clown."

"Oh, goodie," Joker murmured, leering. So they were going to keep him, were they? Take him to their inner sanctum, their home turf? Were they worried that he might snap in the night and kill them? Or did they think he would protect them from the Mob? Why keep a madman like him around, after all? Especially since Rose knew he'd offered himself as a dog for that very same Mob? What games were these gorgeous psychopaths playing?

And when, he wondered vaguely, watching them scurry about like carnivorous insects, were they going to jump in and play his little games?

Then movement, somewhere in the building. Doors slamming open, and the call of "Police!" Rose stiffened, and bit her lip right where it hurt the most. They were here already? Cursing under her breath, she dropped her spare clothes, ordering her sisters to do the same, and snapped, "Now, come on! Let's go!"

"But, homicidal hookers!" Danni cried.

"We'll huddle on the floor of the backseat until we get home, now come on! Before we get busted! Come on!"

So they ran, and found themselves a huddled, bloody, shivering mass of exhausted women on the back seat floor of Joker's Mercedes, staring up at the Joker as they glided through the Gotham City night.

.

.

.

Next time, on Five Queens and a Joker:

Chapter 10: Her eyes darkened until they were almost black, midnight violet like a drug. Soothing the nerves, calming the fire just a little. Valium gaze. Opium eyes. Helping him think, helping him focus. Crystalizing his thoughts into jagged, diamond ideas and impulses. His synapses fizzed and crackled as everything clarified, transparent razor blade sharpness. And what are you?

Chapter 11: She twisted the key, and something like ice stabbed into her belly. She caught her breath in her throat and her bottom lip between the pearl trap of her teeth. It wasn't a blade, the silken steel slicing through her.

Chapter 12: Sadie never made a sound the entire time he stitched her bleeding rosebud mouth. Didn't she feel it? The needle stabbing into her lips? The wire thread sliding against raw, open wounds? Didn't she feel the stinging, burning, throbbing? But all she did was stare at him, golden eyes blazing.

.

.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you don't recognize. Tooth and Claw is the title of an episode from the Batman animated series from the 90s.

Sorry that took so long. I got up late yesterday and missed my computer window. I had like, 1/2 an hour. I don't type that fast. So, here ya go. Latest chapter. I'm not sure about it, but I'm trying to keep the Joker more of a mystery now, since I've read so many great fanfics where, one of the reasons they're great is cuz you have NO idea what the Joker is thinking. Case en pointe, Saviors and Hellion Smiles by Harlequin Sequins. I love her, she awesome! So Joker POV is from now on a little more reduced. Just FYI.

Reviews? Pwease?

Thank you, my awesome reviewers: Lord Dragon Claw (I love you), Gamine Madcap, Hayly Baby, and Alys98. Also, thanks to my current favorite authors: Alys98, Kendra, and Harlequin Sequins. You guys are such an inspiration. D