Chapter 5

The Uninvited

It was after seven before Zuko finished with work for the day. His eyes ached after spending the day reading through all of the archived files. Bumi's idea that Koh may not have been a doctor or nurse after all changed so much, and yet not much after all.

Zuko connected his phone to his car and pulled up Katara's number.

"City morgue, you stab 'em we slab 'em!" she greeted cheerfully. Zuko recoiled in horror.

"Under the circumstances," he said, "that is in incredibly bad taste." Katara's giggling filled the car. Zuko scowled.

"Lighten up," she admonished. "Dark humor is how I cope."

"Well, I just spent the day ears deep in horrific murder details. And in an actual morgue. Maybe relax with the really on the nose jokes, yeah?"

"Alright, alright! I'll behave myself." Katara made a valiant effort to sound serious. Zuko pulled out of his parking spot by and into the street. "So, what's up? Do you have good news for me?"

"Unfortunately, no. I was just calling to check up on you."

"Aw! How sweet." Zuko couldn't tell if she was being sincere, but Katara spared him the necessity of replying. "I was just thinking about ordering take out."

"What?" Zuko did a double take at the speaker, and drifted over into the next lane. Fortunately, the traffic was light. He received a few angry blasts from car horns, but otherwise caused no damage. "I thought you just went shopping! Officer Nakamura took you, right?"

"She did…" she said. "But now I'm feeling too lazy to cook. I've been working on my dissertation all day. I'm beat."

"Katara." Zuko wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose, but he didn't want to risk taking his eyes off the road that long. "Look, there is a serial killer after you. You are being entirely too reckless."

"By ordering takeout?" Katara huffed into the phone.

"Yes," Zuko's said. "By putting yourself in the position of expecting a stranger to show up at your door." Katara groaned, and Zuko heard a thud.

"This is torture!" she complained. "It's only been a day and a half, and I feel like a prisoner in my own home. I can't go running. I can't take the bus. And now I can't order in food?" Katara sounded on the verge of tears. Zuko put his hazard lights on and pulled over. He racked his mind for something to comforting to say- oh! He wished his uncle were there.

"You want me to bring you something to eat?" Katara laughed. It was bitter and suspiciously watery, but Zuko decided to be grateful for it.

"No, don't bother." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm not making this an easy job for you, huh?"

"It's fine!" Zuko insisted. "Look, this would be rough on anybody. Just…don't take unnecessary risks, okay?" The line went quiet. Zuko wondered if the call had dropped. As he reached to check his phone, Katara broke the silence.

"Zuko?" she called softly.

"Yeah?"

"Is my life ever going to be normal again?" Her breathing sped up slightly. Was she crying now? "If you- when you catch him, am I going to be able to order take out without fearing for my life? Will I ever be able to leave this house alone without thinking about all the people who might want to kill me?"

Zuko let his head rest on the top of the steering wheel. On either side, his hands were clenched so tightly, his knuckles had turned white. What could he say to make her feel better? What promise would give her hope? It was so much easier when his victims were dead.

"It's going to be hard," he admitted. He sat up and looked towards the speaker. "I won't tell you that you won't be affected by this for...a long time probably. But, it'll get easier. And you're not going to be alone in this. If you need to talk, my uncle knows tons of therapists who work with victims of crime. And your brother obviously cares about you. He'll be there for you." Zuko hesitated before he added. "You can talk to me, too. For whatever it's worth. I... I've seen some terrible things, and... I guess it helps knowing that someone else kind of understands what you're going through."

"Has it gotten easier for you?" Katara asked. Zuko looked in the rearview. He reached up and skimmed the edge of his scar with his fingertips.

"Yes," he replied. It wasn't a complete lie. He looked away from the mirror. "Are you sure you don't want me to stop by with take out?"

"I'm sure." Katara sighed. "I keep saying I want to be less lazy. I guess this is my chance. I really just want to be by myself tonight."

"Okay." Zuko pulled back out into the street.

"We're still on for running tomorrow, though, right?"

"Sure!" Zuko winced as his overly eager reply echoed through the car. Had his voice cracked?

"Well, don't let me twist your arm," Katara laughed. There was less of the bitter edge this time. Zuko's mouth twitched up slightly.

"Is seven too early?"

"Ugh! Yes!" Katara groaned on the other end.

"But I'll be ready anyway." This time Zuko chuckled.

"Alright, I'll see you then."

"Yep. And, Zuko? Thanks. For everything."

"Sure, Katara. Take care.'

The call ended as Zuko turned into his neighborhood. The security guard gave him a friendly wave as he opened the gate. Zuko nodded in return, then drove down the road towards his home. On either side of the street more gates towered over him, blocking the extravagant sprawling mansions from view.

Zuko lived at the back of the complex, in the one condominium building there. His mother had bought a one bedroom apartment years ago, with money she had saved up to divorce his father. She hadn't gotten to sleep in it once before she died, but she had paid it off upfront, and left it to her children. Zuko moved in after he had graduated from the academy.

"I'll miss having you around," Iroh had told him the day he helped his nephew move in. "But perhaps it is time we two bachelors had our own space."

"Uncle…" Zuko had honestly tried to tell Iroh how grateful he was for him. But at 19, Zuko was even worse at communicating than he would be at 26. As always, though, Iroh seemed to understand what Zuko meant. He drew his nephew into a hug, then stepped back with a proud gleam in his eyes.

"Let's get you settled," he said.

Now, Zuko found his parking spot and made his way up to his apartment. As he stepped inside, he felt the breeze from the open balcony doors. He never went on the balcony. Immediately Zuko drew his gun, wondering if Koh had made the mistake of bringing the fight to him.

He didn't turn on the lights. He swept the kitchen almost blindly, but any intruder would be at even more of a disadvantage. There was a slight noise just inside the living room. Zuko put his finger on the trigger and faced the intruder.

"Freeze!" he ordered.

"Relax," drawled a voice that was only slightly more welcome than Koh. "It's just me."

"Azula?" He turned on the light and found his younger sister leaning against the wall with a tumbler of bourbon in her hand. "What are you doing here? How did you get up here? It's nine stories up and I never gave you a key." Azula shrugged and went to sit on the couch.

"I have my ways," she told him as she lifted her drink to her lips. "And your security is weak. This wouldn't have happened in my building." Zuko rolled his head back and rubbed his chin.

"So, did you come by to criticize my doorman? What do you want?"

"Still as rude as ever, I see," Azula chided. "Aren't you happy to see your only sister?"

"I wish you had called," Zuko said. He took his jacket off and laid it aside, then he went to his room and put his gun in the safe. Azula regarded him archly.

"Why?" she called after him. "So you could have conveniently been busy doing something? I wanted to see you." Zuko stopped at his his bar cart and scowled as he put the top back on the bourbon.

"You haven't even called me in almost three years."

"The phone works in both directions, brother dear," Azula pointed out. Zuko rolled his eyes. It was beginning to seem like everyone in his life was determined to give him a headache that week.

"So you just came by to say hello?" Zuko asked skeptically. Azula sighed and shook her head sadly.

"Honestly, Zuko, you'd think all the years you spent with Uncle would have taught you trust. How is the old man, by the way? Has he retired to open his tea shop yet?" Zuko sighed. So they were really going to do this.

"He's still the police chief," he told Azula. "He'll be glad to hear you stopped by."

"Sure," Azula scoffed, taking another sip of bourbon. It was true, though. Iroh often said he wished the siblings could be on better terms, despite- or maybe because of- the fact that he hadn't spoken to his own brother in over a decade. Zuko knew his uncle sent Azula cards on her birthdays and holidays, and he suspected that Iroh tried to keep in touch between. Zuko himself had long ago learned the wisdom of giving his younger sister her space.

"Have you had dinner yet?" Zuko asked, eyeing the glass in Azula's hand. "I think I have some leftovers in the fridge." Azula made a disgusted face.

"I've never been that hungry," she said. "I didn't come over to have dinner with you."

"Does that mean you're finally going to tell me why you're here?" Zuko crossed his armed and stared at Azula expectantly. Azula drained the rest of her drink and stood up with only the barest hint of a waver.

"Zuko, I've come to offer you a job."

"I already have a job." Zuko rolled his eyes and wandered into the kitchen. Azula may not have been hungry, but he was.

"I mean a real job," Azula let out a derisive snort. Zuko dug through his leftovers for the cold sesame noodles he had made a few days earlier.

"Being a detective isn't exactly some after school gig," he said. He found the leftovers, and they still smelled good. He briefly considered taking some to Katara in case she decided not to eat that night.

"When are you going to get over this superhero complex, Zuzu?" Zuko scowled at Azula's childhood nickname for him and slammed the refrigerator door shut.

"Don't call me that." Azula was pouring herself another drink when he came back. She turned and handed him a glass of bourbon. It was twice as much as Zuko usually drank in one sitting. He took a sip, and set it down on the coffee table while he ate.

"Isn't this the bottle that Mai got you for your birthday two years ago?" Azula asked, filling her own cup. Zuko eyed it with chagrin. The bottle was nearly half gone. "You know it comes pre-aged."

"I was saving it for a special occasion," Zuko grumbled.

"This is a special occasion," his sister declared holding her glass up. "The Kaji kids are reunited at last." Zuko sighed, then lifted his glass to tap against hers. Azula tilted her glass to her lips. Zuko set his aside again.

"What do you want from me, Azula?" he asked. "Sozin is doing fine. You've never wanted my help before." Azula set her glass down next to Zuko's and turned towards him.

"It's Zhao," she told him. Zuko looked at Azula sharply.

"What about him?" he asked grimly. Azula sat back, her arms draped over the back and armrest of the couch. Her eyes, slightly glazed over with alcohol, narrowed angrily.

"He is trying to oust me," she said. "He doesn't think I know, but I do. He's undermining me every chance he gets, and he's been dealing with clients behind my back." Zuko's mouth twisted into a sneer.

"Zhao's always been a snake," he said. "I don't know why you kept him on after Ozai went to jail." Azula shrugged.

"It was easier than letting him go and trying to sort through the mess Dad left," she said. "But he crossed a line this week. He went to the board behind my back, and told them that I might not be 'fit to run Sozin'. That I'm too young to hold the position I was born and raised for." Zuko nodded in sympathy. That would be frustrating for anyone, but especially for Azula who at 24 was the youngest CEO in Sozin's history. Especially since it was Zhao, who had nearly succeeded in taking over the company when Ozai went to jail.

"Sucks," Zuko grunted. "What's that got to do with me, though?"

"Zhao has been getting support among the the department heads," Azula explained. "I know a couple of them, and they will be dealt with. But he has more. I need someone I can trust on the inside." Zuko had been mid-sip and nearly spat his expensive bourbon on the floor.

"You trust me?" he laughed. "Azula, you don't even like me."

"I don't," Azula agreed. "But I know you, Zuzu." Zuko's nose flared at the nickname. "You always do the honorable thing. And you hate Zhao as much as I do. Do you really want to see him as head of our great-grandfather's company?"

"I honestly could not care less if I tried." Zuko crossed his ankle over his knee. "I stopped giving Zhao living space in my head years ago. I suggest you do the same. Why don't you just fire him?"

"Don't you think I would if I could?" Azula growled. "I told you, I need him. After all this time, I still need him because he knows how Dad operated. He has connections to suppliers that I haven't even heard of. I can't run Sozin without him, and he knows that. But if you would come back...if I had an ally who could find out who his supporters are, I could cut him off at the knees. Zhao knows I need him, but he needs Sozin. If you and I work together, we'll have him right where we want him!"

"You don't need him," Zuko said. "You're smart enough to run the company yourself. You should get rid of Zhao. Hang his connections. They're more than likely illegal anyway."

"Do you know what that would cost Sozin?" Azula demanded. "You're all about saving people aren't you? How many jobs do you think would be lost if I did that?"

"Less than would be lost if you went to jail and Sozin went under completely," Zuko pointed out. "Layoffs happen. Most people are fine afterwards. And, hey, if you're really concerned with keeping job losses low, though, you could always cut the executive salaries." Azula fixed him with a cutting glare, but Zuko just shrugged. "If I ever agreed to come work at Sozin with you, part of my condition would be that you bring the business above board anyway. You don't really want me there."

"Our family has built an empire!" Azula declared. She leapt off the couch and towered over Zuko. "You'd risk our position as the most powerful company in the world because you don't like the cost of doing business? Where is your sense of family pride?"

"I still have some," Zuko assured her. "That's why I decided to follow in Uncle's footsteps instead of Ozai's." Azula's face contorted in fury. Her grip tightened around her glass, and she spun and hurled it at the wall. It exploded in a shower of glass and ice and alcohol.

"Are you crazy?" Zuko jumped to his feet.

"Why?" Azula shrieked. "Why are you so willing to play the hero for the entire city, but you won't be there when I need you?"

"Azula…" Zuko reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, but Azula spun away, nearly tripping over the coffee table.

"It won't bring her back, you know," Azula told him. "No matter how many people you save, it won't change what happened to Mom. It won't erase what Dad did to you, either."

Zuko froze. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. Azula stared at him in a similar pose. Her shoulders quaked in anger, her eyes gleamed with unshed tears, her chest heaving with pent in rage. Zuko was much younger the last time he and his sister had had an argument like this. Back then he would match her shout for shout; broken glass for broken glass. But he was years away from that Zuko. Now he took a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders.

"You're drunk," he said quietly. "We can't talk like this. You can sleep it off on the couch. I'm going to bed." He turned towards his room.

"Don't walk away from me!" Azula screamed after him. Zuko flinched for his neighbors, but the walls were hopefully thick enough to keep Azula from disturbing them much.

"Please don't break anymore of my glasses," he said. He paused at his drink cart and grabbed the bottle of bourbon. "I have to leave early, but you can leave whenever you're ready."

"Zuko, come back here!" Azula called after him.

"Good night, Azula."

Katara stayed on the kitchen floor for a long while after she hung up with Zuko. She stared at her refrigerator and mentally went through all of the ingredients she had bought. She had plenty of food, but she couldn't even find the energy to wipe the tears from her face, much less get up and actually cook. Soon her tears dried and the sun set, but she stayed on the floor in the dark going over her grocery list until her legs began to tingle. When she finally reached out and pulled herself up by the island's granite countertop, she realized that nearly two hours had passed since she had spoken to Zuko. Her stomach reminded her that it had been even longer than that since lunch.

Sokka hated to cook, but with Katara often too busy to cook, he had to rely on takeout and instant meals. Katara had made him finish all the frozen meals so they wouldn't take up unnecessary space while he was gone, but Katara thought she remembered seeing a few packages of instant noodles in the cabinet somewhere. It would do for the evening, and Katara could cook a few dinners worth of food the next day.

"So this is what I've been reduced to," she grumbled distastefully, as she poured the boiling water into the cup of noodles. Her phone started ringing then, and she answered without checking the name.

"Hey, Sugar Queen," her friend Toph greeted on the other end. "What's shaking?"

"Toph!" Katara cried happily. "It's so good to hear from you!"

"I've been gone less than a week," Toph said. "Are you alright? I got the weirdest call from Sokka earlier today. He asked if I was playing a really unfunny prank on you, and then he asked if I would end my vacation early and come stay with you." Katara sighed.

"That's Sokka." She chuckled, but it was a weak, unconvincing sound. Toph picked up on it immediately.

"Seriously," she said, her voice full of concern. "Are you okay?" Katara tried to say yes, but the word caught in her throat. To her annoyance, a sob bubbled up instead. "Katara, what's wrong?"

"Toph...I-" Katara didn't know how to tell her friend what was happening. So instead she cried. Again. Toph, in an uncharacteristic show of tact, let her without trying to interrupt. It took much less time to gather herself than it had earlier. Distantly, Katara worried about dehydration.

"What's going on?" Toph asked once Katara had calmed down. "Did something happen at school? So help me, Sweetness, if I find out all of this noise is about a bad grade-"

"Something really bad happened, Toph," Katara cut her friend off. Toph went quiet, and Katara chewed her lip.

"...are you sick?" Katara choked on a laughed. That would almost be better.

"No, I'm not sick." Katara sighed. She was exhausted. "There...there's a serial killer after me." Toph went silent again for half a moment, and then-

"What?" Katara had to pull her phone away from her ear. Toph rattled off a string of swears that would have shamed sailors. In the background, Katara heard Toph's mother chastising her for her language just before a door slammed. This time Katara did laugh, and Toph heard.

"Are you laughing? Is this a joke?" she fumed.

"It's not," Katara gasped. "It's not. Oh, Toph. The past two days have been awful. I can't even order takeout."

"Whoa, slow down." Katara could hear Toph taking a few deep breaths. "What is going on?"

Katara told her friend the story. How she had found the poem taped to her door, and then the photos the next morning. Her conversation with Sokka and how he had accused Aang of leaving the poem. The detective working her case and all the things Zuko had told her she wasn't allowed to do for the time being. When she finished, she had left Toph speechless for the first time since they had met.

"Toph, are you still there?" she asked.

"Let me get this straight," Toph replied. "You have a serial killer after you- an honest to goodness wants to wear your face as a mask serial killer- and you decided to go running and call in for take out? Are you out of your mind? Katara!"

"Could you not yell at me?" Katara groaned. "Zuko already gave a solid chewing out, okay? I won't order take out, or go running, or go check the mailbox without telling him to send me a police escort. Happy?"

"Of course not!" Toph snapped. "This sucks! It should be that scum sucking elbow leech locked up somewhere, not you. But I'd be even less happy if he killed you and I had to hunt him down to return the favor because you're too stubborn to practice basic self-preservation."

"Well, at least I know my death would be avenged." The noodles were done cooking by that point, Katara peeled back the lid and huffed. 'I'm tempted to ask you to kill him any way. Because of this guy, I have to eat Sokka's instant noodles tonight."

"Didn't you say a cop took you grocery shopping today?" Katara stabbed at her meal and made a face.

"Yeah," she grumbled. Toph laughed at her.

"You can't blame the serial killer for your laziness!"

"Rude…" Katara dug into the cup of noodles. She gasped. "Oh, no!"

"What?" Toph asked frantically. "What happened?"

"Oh, no!" Katara groaned again."Toph, the noodles-" Toph sucked her teeth.

"Katara, if you don't stop complaining about those-"

"No, Toph, you don't understand." Katara dug in again. "They're actually... good."

"I hate, you, Katara," Toph said. "I'm hanging up now."

"Wait!" Katara cried. "Don't go yet, please? I'm all by myself and I'm bored."

"Why are you alone?" Toph demand. "No one could stay with you?" Katara slumped against her seat. She stirred the noodles in their container.

"No," she said. "Everyone I trust enough to ask is out of town. Besides, how do I know I won't get someone else targeted by this guy?"

"I don't like it," Toph said. "I don't like you being there alone." She paused. 'Do you want me to come back?"

"Thanks, Toph," Katara sighed."But I can't ask you to do that. Sokka will be here the day after tomorrow, so I just have to get through one more day. Zuko's going to go running with me in the morning. At least I'll get some fresh air."

"Yeah, about this Zuko," Toph cut in. Her tone had Katara immediately on edge. "You're on a first name basis with your detective?" Katara shrugged.

"I figured he's saving my life. Formalities seem pretty weird under the circumstances."

"I don't know…" Toph said suspiciously. "You already have one creepy old guy stalking you. How do you know this Zuko guy isn't trying to take advantage?" Katara let out a snort of laughter.

"It's not like that at all." Toph made a skeptical noise. "Honestly! First of all, he's not old. He's maybe a three years older than me. Second, he is so uncomfortable with himself, it's kind of endearing. I'm not sure he even knows how to make a move on someone."

"Oh, I see." Her tone set Katara on edge again, but for a different reason. "You think he's hot, don't you?"

"Toph! I just met the guy yesterday under the absolute worst circumstances."

"So?" Toph pressed. "I'm not asking if you want to marry the guy. I just want to know if he's attractive." Katara's thoughts went back to that morning, and the heat rose in her cheeks. Toph knew her well enough to tell if she lied.

"He is very attractive," Katara admitted. "But he doesn't think so."

"Oh?" Toph was curious now. "Why not? Is he fat? You know how cops love their sweets." Katara chuckled in spite of herself.

"No, he clearly knows his way around a gym." Katara stirred the leftover broth in her cup. "He has a scar on his face. A big one."

"Huh…" Katara heard tapping in the other end of the line. Toph must have been drumming her fingers or something. "Are you sure you don't have a thing for this guy?"

"Positive, Toph," Katara insisted. "Trust me, he is an objectively handsome man. You can take a poll when you get back."

"Okay…" Toph said sounding very unconvinced. "If you say so. Just don't go falling in love with the guy who's protecting you. That's such a cliché."

"Don't worry," Katara assured Toph. "Besides he's not interested anyway. I'm his job."

"Whatever you say, Sweetness." Katara rolled her eyes. But at least Toph was teasing her and not speaking to her like a victim. Even Jin Nakamura, the officer who had taken her shopping that afternoon had treated Katara with a businesslike distance.

"How's your visit home going?" Katara asked suddenly. Toph heaved a heavy sigh.

"As well as can be expected,"she said. 'But at least they're not threatening to have me transferred to the university here this time." Katara wrinkled her nose.

"Can they do that? You're legally an adult."

"When you have enough money, anything is possible." Toph snorted. "It's taken twenty two years to convince my parents that being blind isn't a terminal illness. I think they-"

"Toph,shhh!" Katara cut in sharply. "I think I heard something."

"In the house?" Toph was whispering. Katara peeked out of the kitchen. There was no sign of movement anywhere. Then she heard the noise again.

"I think it came from the yard," she told Toph. "Hang on. I need to find the flashlight." Toph let out a frustrated groan.

"You're investigating?" She wasn't whispering anymore. Katara hushed her friend again.

"I'm not going outside," she said. 'And I'm for sure not letting this guy make me afraid in my own home."

"Katara! Stop and think would you?" Toph was getting angry, Katara could tell. She pursed her lips and went to the front door. There was a police cruiser parked across the street, and in the shadows cast by the streetlamp, Katara could see someone sitting behind the wheel. They saw her peering through the window and waved. Katara returned it and then turned back to the back of the house.

"Toph, there is an officer sitting outside the house," she assured her friend. She heard the noise again. "I'll be fine."

"Wonderful," Toph drawled. "Call them in and let them check it out." Katara grabbed Sokka's flashlight. It was made of metal and had a heavy head, and Katara thought it would make a decent weapon. Just in case.

"Okay, I'm in the living room," she told Toph quietly.

"Katara, if you die while I'm on the phone with you, I'll bring you back and kill you myself. Go get help!" Katara reached through the blinds to double checked the lock and the wooden plank. The door rattled slightly and Katara leapt back with a shriek.

"What happened?" Toph cried."Katara, what happened?"

Katara almost couldn't hear her over the blood rushing in her ears. She turned on the flashlight and threw back the shades, all the while pressing her phone to her ear with her shoulder. She swung the light around wildly and caught the greenish yellow gleam of a pair of eyes near the ground before they disappeared across the yard. Katara yelped and stumbled backward onto the floor. The flashlight rolled under the sofa.

"Tui and La," Katara gasped scrambling to her knees. Her phone landed on the carpeted floor beside her.

"What's going on?" Toph was beginning to sound frantic. Katara grabbed her phone.

"I'm fine, Toph," she said breathlessly. "It was just some animal. I only saw its eyes." Katara reached under the couch for the flashlight while Toph gathered her thoughts. Katara's own heart was racing wildly. She could feel it pulsing in her fingertips.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again," Toph managed to say at last. Katara winced. Toph sounded furious.

"Toph, I'm-"

"I'm serious, Katara!" Toph shouted. "I thought I was about to hear my best friend die. I know you want to take care of yourself, and that's cool. But right now, your life is in danger. You do get that right?" Katara scowled, but she nodded. A useless gesture under any circumstance, but even more so now.

"I get it," she said. "I get it."

"Good!" Toph snapped. After a moment she said, "Are you sure you don't want me to come back? I'm sure one of my parents friends has a private jet or something I can borrow." Katara smiled weakly.

"No, honestly, I'll be fine," she said. "Sokka will be home soon, so I won't be alone."

"Fine," Toph grumbled. "But promise you'll call a cop in the next time you hear things going bump in the night." Katara wanted to feel indignant, but she was still too dizzy from the adrenaline rush to argue.

"I will," she promised reluctantly. "I'll make sure my guards are all earning their paychecks."

"Good," Toph said. Then she added wickedly, "I'm sure you'll be glad to have an excuse to have Zuko come over and check your closets for monsters." She made loud kissing noises into the phone.

"Ugh!" Katara groaned. "Good night, Toph!"

"Good night, Sugar Queen."

He couldn't be seen from his hiding place. He knew it, but still, when the blinds opened and he saw the beam of the flashlight, he still shrunk into himself. He was close enough to hear her scream through the glass. He was close enough to see the little ground lemur that startled her scamper over the back fence.

He was close enough to take her. He might have under different circumstances, but the simple fact of the increased police presence made things more complicated for him. There was an officer parked out front at the moment, and several more cruisers circling the neighborhood. He had been forced to leave his car nearly a mile from the house. He wouldn't be able to carry her the entire way without being noticed. He would need to find some other weakness in the security around her.

The lights began going off in the house. She would be going to sleep soon. He stood up and shook out his sleeping limbs. His time would come, he thought confidently. And when it did, he was certain this would be his favorite piece in his collection.