Chapter Five --Miss Me, Kiss Me
December 18, Monday

It was past five o'clock and there was a sheen of ice on the low ground. Tonight was going to set records for cold weather.
The streets were empty and the smart money was on curling up with a cozy armful and a cold glass of Kentucky's best. I've never been able to play it smart. I couldn't let another day pass by without trying to find out was going on not just for the Slayer, but for me, too.
I'd caught a couple of hours of shuteye at the office and dropped by the bank to toss a few simoleans into the vault. Now my feet found themselves heading toward the place I was dreading to go. I knew putting it off wasn't going to make it any easier.

One of the minions let me in the back way and I found my self standing, hat-in-hand, outside Anyanka's dressing room door. I could hear her inside, moving around, perfume bottles clinking softly together and her voice muttering the lyrics to one of her numbers. I raised my hand to knock, when the door opened on her surprised face.

Alexander Harris. Well. She'd never looked better, her delicious curves bursting from the confines of her blue velvet dressing gown.

Hey baby, I wheedled, I'm back. She gave me the Glare that promised Vengeance, but let me inside anyway. I knew better than to go for the kissing right away.

So, how've you been, sweetie? Everything fine here while I've been gone? No problems?

Her eyes narrowed and she slammed a drawer full of silk stocking shut, Fat lot you care, Harris. I could have been dead and buried for all you knew. Jerk! She glared at me again with her hands on her hips.

Ah, baby, you know I couldn't stay away from you for long. You knew I was coming back. She reached around behind her looking for something heavy to throw. I hoped it wasn't going to be a curse. I made a pre-emptive strike, and pulled the long black velvet box out of my pocket.

I know it's not much, but...

She dropped the cheap clown statuette she'd wound up to pitch at my head and snatched the box out of my outstretched paws. Her eyes lit up and she turned to me with a wide white smile.

Oh Xander, honey, you remembered! I thought fast and stammered out something I hoped was the right answer. Wonder what the occasion was?

How could I forget, Anya? You know I'm crazy about you, baby! I made my move and pulled her unresisting into my arms. She was busy clasping the bracelet around her wrist and still smashing her red lips to mine.

Things might have gotten warmer but Little Head Ted, the stage manager, shouted though the door, Ten minutes, Miss Anyanka!

She gave me a shove into the armchair and started flinging clothes in all directions.
Sasha says there's some Hollywood hotshots in the audience tonight. Go out front and wait for me Xander. We'll go to my place and celebrate after the show. I'll make my specialty. I shivered inwardly. Vengeance Demon Specialty de Maison. Gah. I'd worry about that later.

Anya honey, I'm on a job and I might not...

Tonight. Later! Right now, get out! She giggled and shoved me out into the hallway.
I hadn't had a chance to warn her about Spike, but she was a big girl. And, well, she was a demon.


I grabbed a seat near the stage and took a gander at the band warming up. I wanted to at least catch her first number before I took off. Her band was a new one, all decked out in black tuxedos. A skinny fellow, human I think, was giving the ivories what for and there was a cat blowing the clarinet like nobody's business. But then, the curtains opened and all I could see was Anyanka.

She slithered across the stage, wrapped up tight in a yellow taffeta gown and crooning a tune guaranteed to raise the lust-o-meter of every red-blooded male in the room, especially mine. There's nothing like her, anywhere.

I took a breath while the clarinetist wailed out his solo and sized up out the room. It was early for Demontown to really get jumping, but there were still a few customers eager to catch the show.

At the very last table sat an intriguing figure in a custom-made Italian suit. He held a portable telephone in one hand and puffed on a fat black Cuban stogie with the other. He looked familiar, but then anyone wearing a suit that shade of red with bright green skin would stick out in a crowd. Wait a minute...I knew those horns.

It was coming back to me now. The guy was Lorne Krevlorneswath, head of DeathWok Studios. He wasn't in a little bar in the middle of nowhere for his heath. He was scouting talent and he had his eye on Anya. I'd heard about him. He liked fresh faces, liked to groom them for stardom and maybe a little more than that.

I had to scram out of the Stake and on with the investigation. Anya would have to deal with that big bad wolf by herself this evening. But this business with Spike had to be dealt with right away.

tbc
Music: Billie Holliday, I Don't Stand a Ghost of A Chance