The music blared all around Selina Kyle with merciless, ear-pounding delight. It gave her a headache, listening to this New Age Rockateering crap that the youngsters were coming out with these days. It sounded like someone farting down a bullfrog's throat. Still, at least the place smelled nice: musty cigars and beer breath. Her kind of shithole.
Fortunately her business in this dinky club would be brief. She could already see Luigi Rubacchiare up on a balcony, speaking in swift Italian with another man, who kept his face hidden in the shadows. In Gotham, business in the shadows was business left alone. She tapped her fingers impatiently against the table top, frowning as a couple down the bench from her became more and more ravenous with their quest to devour one another's faces. It must have been the life goal of both to eat the flesh of the others, to gain courage or knowledge or some shit like that.
Sighing, she glanced up at the distant bar, behind which was a grand array of neon colored spirits. A nice Valentine Plum could help her tolerance with this place amplify… but she wanted to get out of here quickly, and needed a level head tonight. She had a mission.
Luigi, a scrawny little Italian fucker in leather, finally bowed to the man in the shadows and took to the staircase, running over to meet her with a wide grin upon his face.
"Cat," he grinned as he leapt onto the bench beside her, breathing excitedly. "We're in."
"How delightful," Selina cooed, her face showing anything but delightfulness. She, after all, wanted out of this club, and was not too happy with Luigi's choice of a meeting spot. However, as Luigi had put it (and rightfully so, she had to acknowledge), a place like this, filled with worshipers of the dance and substance, would guarantee security with their conversation. In this club, no one cared. At all. As if to demonstrate that fact, the two face-eaters were not sprawled across the bench… and it looked as if the drunken man was no longer interested in eating the face…
"Our friend gave me everything we needed," Luigi assured her, holding up before her a small flash drive. "You have the top?"
"The what?"
"The laptop. Sorry. Ragazzi questo posto essere un buco. Dispiacere."
Selina smirked. She liked it when he talked in his native tongue. It was so cute, like a little lost meatball. She pulled a black laptop from a travel bag at her side and set it neatly upon the table, opening it up to the desktop. A picture beamed back at her from behind the icons. Her hair had been long and flowing when this picture had been taken, sleek and black-blue, her summer dress the color of the grass around her and the man who sat with her on the picnic blanket as they enjoyed Gotham Park. Bruce Wayne had been a tacky dresser that day, sporting a "Gotham Rogues" t-shirt and those stupid camouflage flip-flops. But that date had been magical… She could forgive him for not knowing how to dress on a real date. He looked much better in his armor and mask anyway…
"So… am I allowed to know who this man is?" she demanded, taking the drive from him and plugging it into a port. "Information from a man in the shadows is a little questionable."
"He calls himself 'Irish.' He said that's all I needed to know. He sounded anything but Irish, too. More like… Russian or something. But he checked out. Apparently he's done business in Gotham before. Man knows things and always delivers on the information he gives."
"So, then… let me see what he has to give, then." She opened up the flash drive, and saw only two files: a word document called A.B. , and a JPEG labelled NeedToKnow. NeedtoKnow was a blueprint of a condominium, with one of the top rooms marked with a red dot. The file was just as interesting. Inside, a woman's photograph was the first thing to be seen. Pretty face, pretty hair, this woman, this "Anassa Blackwood," she looked like a model, or a socialite. Her eyes glowed magnificently green, her ruby red lips crafted into a fine smile indeed. Below this photograph was information. What she did, where she was based, what kind of businesses she worked with… She was content with understanding her enemies. Apparently she was the CEO of Windstar Corporation, a pharmaceutical company based in Europe, and one of the close ranking competitors to Wayne Enterprises and the Umbrella Corporation. She was also, apparently, a famous ballerina in the United Kingdom and the United States, affiliating herself with the "Hormonal Butterflies" and even the "Circuit of Fairies." So, Miss Pretty Face was both a queen and a ballerina. She was everything little girl's fantasy.
But she was also dangerous. Even without reading the segments of the file concerning her aptitude for martial arts and her connections with the NRA, Selina would have been able to tell this. It was the eyes. Selina herself had the same eyes. There was a look one got that never left them once there. This woman had it, deep down in her pretty little jades…
"Business in Gotham unknown. Spied hanging about the old observatory." Selina nodded. Gotham only had one "old observatory." She continued reading. The information detailed the condominium hotel that she was currently staying at, the room number… everything that was to be known about the woman's current residence in Gotham was in this file. And Selina was satisfied… because tonight she would finally have the answer that she had sought for so long.
She could still remember, even now, the mail that had come to her suite that night, dropped into her box when no mail ought to be dropped. The envelope had been crimson. The name upon it: Mai Tabnam. This had been the most important letter she had received in her life. The letter that made all other letters meaningless. Mai Tabnam… Bruce had told her a long time ago that she was a part of his life. He had told her that, despite her regular grievances, he trusted her with his own life. She had called him a moron. He had smiled. She had slapped him. He had nodded. There was just breaking him. Not Bruce. He had told her something important. Something that he insisted she always, always remember.
"Batman isn't enough. Not for this job. Neither is Bruce Wayne. Selina, I need you to remember the name 'Mai Tabnam.' Because if you ever see that name… you'll know I'm calling."
Mai Tabnam. One of his aliases, an anagram of 'I am Batman.' And this letter had come to her, her, after almost a year… a year since Bruce Wayne's body had been discovered on the shores of Los Angeles… a year since autopsy information had been denied to the public… a year since the Batman's disappearance…
A letter from Mai Tabnam meant only one thing: Bruce was alive, and he was trying to contact her. For what, she had had no clue. If he was alive, why not reveal himself… unless he was in a position that made doing so impossible. But he had managed, somehow, beyond all rationality, to get a letter to her. And inside that letter, a single sheet of paper, with a name and a few words: Anassa Blackwood. Tell Alfred. What had mystified her beyond all things else had been his words. First, the sheet of paper he had used could have had so much more written upon it, and yet he had only written that. Something had put him in a hurry, and this meaningless garbage had been all he had been able to write. Second, "tell Alfred?" Why? Why Alfred? Pennyworth was Bruce's servant, of course, and his aide during Bruce's rooftop crusades… but why Alfred and not, say, Robin, who darted along the rooftops in his place these days (using that dreadful name 'Nightwing')? And what exactly what she was supposed to tell Alfred Pennyworth, anyway? "Anassa Blackwood?" What exactly was that to tell the old man? That name meant nothing to her… did it mean something to Alfred?
She had kept the letter to herself, and began her own investigation, feeling anger with Bruce for his lack of help… but then, had it been Bruce at all? Had it truly been Bruce? Her investigation had led her to discovering that Anassa Blackwood was a famous science queen, but no criminal record to her name…
And then, one day, Luigi had come to her. She had paid Luigi to ask around his snope-scapes in Gotham. Luigi had connections, and knew where to find the right kind of people with the right kind of information. He had come to her and told her that a woman named Anassa Blackwood was to visit Gotham City… and that his contact could help her locate this woman.
She wanted the truth. Whatever had happened to Bruce, Anassa Blackwood was somehow involved. In what way, she did not know… but Selina Kyle was great at persuading people to talk. Her claws were already sharpened…
"Fancy place," Selina commented, smiling softly to herself. "It would be a shame if someone were to break in and clean the place out from this rich CEO…"
"Are you sure about this, Cat?" Luigi's voice shook. "I'm not so sure this woman is a pretty butterfly."
"And I'm not just a kitten," Selina sighed, kissing Luigi on the cheek. "I'm actually quite a lioness… a tiger, even. A panther. Whatever she is, she'll know that soon enough."
Anassa Wesker lay sprawled across the condominium's queenly bed, draped in a silky purple gown, an open box of Maroni's pizza to one side, a glass of red grape wine on the other. A laptop blared before her, balanced out by the dim light of the bedside lamp, and across the room, the television gave her company as she typed report after report into the Windstar Online Database. On top of working alongside Dr. Woodrue, she still had her corporation to manage. Luna Tyke, her assistant, had been happy enough to keep the pharmaceutical company flowing naturally during Chairman Anassa's absence, but even so, the girl was young and barely out of college. She was a genius, of course, but a hardheaded one at times. The girl had a temper, and had still not shown Anassa the proof that she could handle blockheads who wanted to alter previous negotiations without screaming at them in fits of rage.
But it mattered little. Day by day, Lasetta Rilee was showing Anassa a more crystal clear future for her company and Umbrella's. The girl could not articulate so many more things. Anassa had begun with the basics: teaching Lasetta new ways to doodle on the ground, moving to sketchbooks and markers with confidence. She wanted to bolster Lasetta's creative capacities, allowing her to become more resilient to new ideas and explorations, opening up the neural pathways to accept exterior injections. Each time Woodrue would bring Lasetta out of containment and into the testing rooms, he would inject her with the Aterium hormone and monitor Lasetta's antigen responses. Predictably, the Aterium was being burned away… but after Anassa's creative interference, this process began to slow down, putting up less resistance and allowing neural stimulation for Lasetta to adapt to the hormone little by little. The stimulated neurons would show improvement over time, she was sure. And so was Woodrue. He had kept his word about staying in the dark when it came to his observations. Anassa had placed hundreds of little black cameras around the greenhouse, helping Woodrue set up a connection in his monitoring room so that Lasetta could become more aware to isolation from him and more open to the insistences of Anassa.
Within a week, Lasetta was comprehending basic math, such as 2+1 equalling 21… 21 indeed, Lasetta, 21…
On the television screen, another source of interest for Anassa was currently being discussed. A news reporter in a maroon suit was frantically describing a most exciting scene before him. A fish packaging factory, it seemed, had been set aflame on the east docks. Apparently, even now, there was a fierce gunfight going on between Gotham's finest and a band of the Joker's thugs. Woodrue had informed her that very evening that the Joker was going to put the Leviathan to a test run, a practice for the true attack that he planned on Gotham. As such, Anassa wanted to make sure that what she had provided to the Joker would do exactly as it was intended to do…
"Jan, I don't know what exactly is going on, but things are out of control. There seem to be screams coming from inside of the factory, which has led first responders to believe that there may be live hostages caught in the spreading fire. Members of the Gotham City Fire Department are putting up a fight now, trying to put the flames out for a possible infiltration, but it is highly unlikely at this point that anyone caught in there will survive. The smoke levels are rising drastically by the minute and-wait-wait-yes-" The reporter had a hand to the headset he wore, and Anassa turned her full attention to the screen now. "Yes… um hm…" He suddenly looked excited, but tried to maintain a professional form. "Alright, I've just gotten word that the Nightglade has been spotted. The Nightglade has been spotted and is moving in now."
Anassa frowned. Nightglade?
The cameraman was focusing on a shot to the west, and suddenly, something fast flew into view, speeding like a bullet towards the burning factory. It was something like a black jet, except that it seemed to have a third wing on the top of it, shaped like a crescent moon, and three glowing, bright blue engines roared from behind.
Interesting. I wonder if this is-
"Nightwing has just arrived on the scene. I say again, Nightwing has just arrived on the scene."
Nightwing…so this is him. Anassa was very pleased about getting to witness this broadcast. She had heard the stories, of course, and the truth from Albert, naturally. When Albert had taken Bruce Wayne from the clutches of Dr. Woodrue, and had internationally faked the death of Bruce Wayne, so too had come the disappearance of Batman. This had, of course, led to widespread questioning: Just why had Batman vanished around the same time as Bruce Wayne? However, whatever true conspiracy theories had developed from this instance, they had quickly been washed away by the arrival of a new face: a man named Nightwing. Nightwing, rightly so, as the two Weskers knew, was televised to be Robin, Batman's former apprentice prior to the Bat's death. This was all speculation, of course. A new suit was an aesthetic, not a trickery.
There had been a few times, she had to admit to herself, that she wanted to visit the famed Wayne Manor and speak with Alfred Pennyworth, a fellow Brit and kindred spirit to the understanding of duty. How she longed to tell Pennyworth the truth concerning Bruce Wayne. It had hit the public hard enough, knowing about the "death" of Bruce Wayne… But in all of the interviews with GCN, CNN, ABC, FOX… in all of them, Pennyworth had always shown a brilliant display of calmness and confidence, almost. His eyes, old and trained, spelled many secrets to those who could see and feel them. Secrets that said, "I believe what I will. Not what you say has happened…" It felt odd to look at those old eyes and feel as if Pennyworth knew an inkling of truth: that his master was not, in fact, dead.
She watched as "Nightwing" dropped down from his hovering craft and into the blazing inferno. Such impulsiveness, she regarded. There was no way he was going to withstand her virus… especially in a hellfire that was crumbling all around him. Nightwing would be dead before the night was over, and she shrugged, sipping her wine and smiling a little. Idiots deserved to die, so she felt nothing for this foolish Batman worshiper. Her virus would succeed. Her virus would conquer Nightwing.
But what if it doesn't? What if he somehow finds a way to bring it down?
Nah. The Leviathan was perfected, she knew. It would do its job, if threatened. But even if Nightwing did survive this encounter, it meant little to her. She cared not whether he lived or died. He was not her enemy, not yet. Perhaps when Lasetta began her attack… yes, perhaps then… if he survived…
She quickly opened up Skype, and set the webcam to call Luna. She needed to check in with the other project…
As she waited for a connection, she drained her wine and reached down to pour herself another glass. At first, she did not notice anything peculiar outside of the window. Nothing at all. From her window, one could behold the majesty of the busy metropolis below, vibrant in color and chaos. She saw not the brisk movement of any animal walking across the ledge. Her focus was upon the two screens before her, and the glass of wine. She saw not the little walking black spheres, so miniscule on the darkened, exterior sill, wound up like little bomb-ombs, watching her through the little cameras that were their bodies… Nor did her heightened senses pick up the smell of beer and sweat. There was just…no reason for Anassa to believe that anything outside of the window was watching her at that exact moment…
On television, something was happening. The side of the main factory chamber exploded, sending chunks of flaming debris in every direction, and screams filled the night. People began running in every direction. There was Nightwing, running for the river, and pursuing him…
Not the Joker's thugs. Well, perhaps one of them…
What pursued Nightwing definitely had been one of the Joker's thugs. Massive bulk like three overgrown elephants, its body was titan-like. It stood at what Anassa estimated to be thirty feet in length, a giant creature of muscled perfection. Its skin was the yellow color of a ripe lime, its veins bulging and pumping with the Leviathan virus. Grand tentacles were its bulky hands, its head like a bulls, except for it had many, many horns for its face and two staring, bloodshot eyes that seemed to be bleeding something black and corrosive, sizzling against the ground as it dripped. Its body was humanoid, its feet like a bird's. This abomination pursued Nightwing on all fours when it ran, chasing him onto the docks near Gotham River. The cameraman was desperately trying to follow the ensuring battle, watching as Nightwing began to toss explosive after explosive at the creature. The little black balls bounced off of its thick, scaly hide and only slowed the creature, but never stopped it.
A police boat was coming into view, and was firing off a machine gun from its starboard side. The bullets bounded uselessly off of its hide as much as Nightwing's mini-bombs had. All the while, the Joker's thugs were still relentlessly spraying the surrounding area with gunfire and grenades… The carnage was exciting and left Anassa feeling breathless at the furiosity of it all. She wished she could be there, to see it up close…
"Ma'am?"
Anassa looked down. Luna Tyke was on her screen and staring at her dutifully from the office back in Ireland. Japanese in heritage, but raised in Portland, Luna Tyke was a stunning example of Japanese-American décor, her slightly narrowed eyes and orangey-skin smooth and dimpled. Only her hair seemed out of place: it was dyed denim blue, and she wore bright lavender contacts. She had a liking for sea foam lipstick, and was wearing it even now, early as it was over there. To a stranger, Luna looked like some rebellious college nobody with a disregard for social appearance and professionalism. But Anassa knew better. She knew how intelligent and resourceful Luna was, and had no doubt about the young woman's watchful eye over Windstar. She just…had her quirks.
Anassa grinned at Luna, waving, and excitedly spun the laptop around so that it was facing the television. "Look, Luna… look at that." Anassa was pleased with her virus's work and wanted to share the glory with her young friend. Luna made sounds of approval, and when Anassa craned her head around to see the scree, she was satisfied to see Tyke smiling.
"Excellet," Luna noted. "This will make for an efficient test. Should I send you more samples, ma'am?"
"Actually, yes, you should," Anassa replied, punching the air in triumph. The large creature was wadding through the river, going right for the police boat. Behind it, Nightwing was shouting something into his arm, desperately tossing the little explosives after the beast, but the creature was moving too fast… The gunfire on the boat had ceased, and the officers were abandoning ship just as the creature overtook the boat, sending up a massive, crashing tidal wave… Anassa was pleased. She had unleashed this beast upon Gotham, and now its people would know her power… even if they themselves did not know whose power they knew. This city was a disgusting place, with disgusting souls, and it needed a good cleansing. What was some murder and mayhem here and there? It was a good test run for the Leviathan. "Can you send me another fifteen?"
"They'll be there within the morning," Luna promised, already typing away commands into her computer. "What about Albert? Anything for him?"
"Actually, Luna, I need you to do something for me…" Anassa's voice shook with excitement. "I'm actually needing you to come to Gotham."
Luna stopped typing on the other end, her eyes widening as she stared. "G-Gotham?"
"Yes, love. You should see this hellhole. It's actually quite lovely in the appropriate places. I need your help with the experiment, and you possess certain… characteristics that could be useful."
"What do you mean, ma'am?"
Anassa smiled. "Your immunities, dear. I need your immunities. I have observed Lasetta closely, every day, and I believe I may have found a solution to one of our biggest obstacles."
"Ma'am?"
"The poisons her body constantly expels… the spores… I believe that your antibodies could create a powerful anti-poison, Luna. The clinical runs using your antibodies from last year seem adequate enough to create an anti-poison."
"To what magnitude, though?" Luna sounded stunned. She certainly looked it. "The poison in Lasetta ate through Woodrue's strongest hazard suits…"
"Well of course it did. The acidic levels are overwhelmingly potent, but the material reactions have varied. I believe that using your antibodies, we can suppress the potency of her spores, enough, even, to allow someone to get very, very close to her."
"Or we could kill her," Luna pointed out, frowning. "My antibodies could kill her. You realize that?"
"I doubt it. Her body has surpassed even Progenitor in terms of adaptability and strength. The antibodies will not kill her… as a matter of fact, I'm quite convinced that nothing less than blunt force trauma or a bullet could harm that girl. She is a walking immunity to toxins and poisons, to disease and viral aliens… I know. I've poisoned her already with some of the most lethal chemicals."
"Have you?"
"Arsenic, ricin, Madredene extract… she had adapted to all, efficiently so. I laced the candies that I gave to her with a wide variety of toxins. Oh, you should have heard Albert…" She giggled. "He was so pissed with me when I told him, and he even threatened to tell Woodrue. But why should Woodrue care? He knew, as I knew, that Lasetta would survive it. I would not put the girl's life in danger if I was not one-hundred percent sure that-"
CRASH. Anassa jumped, startled by the sudden shattering of glass. A small plume of flame and smoke erupted forward as the windows was blasted apart, leaving a grand hole indeed that looked out into the metropolitan night. The laptop fell off of the bed, and Luna began calling out to her boss in concern. Anassa, crouched upon the floor like a cat, settled herself straight up, ready for anything.
The real cat was actually coming through the window now. The woman was, in Anassa's honest opinion, silly. Silly, perhaps a bit skank-like, as the Americans might put it. No, no… how did he own say it… 'Slapper…' 'Slag…' What did this woman think she was doing, crawling through the window like that, dressed from neck to toes in a sleek, black, tight leather outfit, not unlike something that Diana Rigg wore in that cruddy show. But this woman had gone beyond Emma Peel by adding dominoes-shaped goggles, the lenses crimson, with blades for stilettos and some weird, cat-eared helmet… This strange woman cartwheeled forward, thrashing a very long black whip in hand.
"Evening," she almost seemed to purr, wiggling her gloved fingers in a wave, and Anassa saw black claws suddenly shoot out of the fingers. Anassa smiled, impressed with this display. "Sorry to go off on you like this…" She raised the whip and slapped it hard against the distant wall. It cracked loudly like lightning. Still, Anassa smiled.
"Catwoman, right?" She walked over to the bar, where all manner of lovely champagne bottles awaited. "You've broken my window, Miss Kyle…"
Selina Kyle froze, her eyes widening from behind the goggles. Anassa chuckled quietly, quite pleased with the Cat's shock. She began to pour herself a glass of Crystal Grape. "Oh, sorry… were you not expecting me to know who you are?" She up-ended the glass in one go, and Selina moved in, closing the distance between herself and her prey. Anassa allowed her to place the tips of those steel claws against her neck, and stared into the enraged eyes behind the lenses.
"I'll make this simple, then," Selina hissed softly, though Anassa could tell she was still shaken. "You tell me where Bruce Wayne is being held, and I won't remove those pretty emeralds in your sockets."
"Are you quite sure, love?" Anassa whispered, tilting her head to the side. "Because I was under the impression that you never give up the chance to take gems and jewels. If you want your threat to become sincere, why not remove one eye and let me keep the other as insurance?"
And Anassa picked up Selina's hand, her speed inhuman as always, and she positioned the hand right in front of her left eyes. Selina was rooted with shock, her mouth shaking. She had not expected such speed from this woman. "There you are," Anassa said. "Now, prod. Poke my eye out and hand it to me. Right now."
Selina grimaced. "You're insane…"
"Pokey poke. Pokey poke." Anassa cooed softly, and then grinned. "No? Not going to follow through on your threat, love?"
"If you insist!" Selina did move her hand forward, and Anassa caught it so casually and so swiftly. And this time, she squeezed hard. Selina cried out in pain, feeling the bones and blood vessels in her wrist compressing and screaming, Anassa's grin dark and terrible. Selina lashed out with her feet hand, and Anassa backed away, moving her torso back slightly to avoid Selina's strike, but in doing so, her grip loosened on Selina's other hand, and the Cat broke free.
Selina went backwards, cartwheeling away and landing gracefully near the bed. All the while, Luna was still calling out from the laptop. Now she could see Selina from her vantage point.
"Who is this, Miss Anassa? Who is this woman?"
Selina, smirking, replied at once with a sharp kick at the screen. Her bladed stiletto impaled the laptop and the machine went dead at once. Anassa's smile faded. Now, she looked very annoyed.
"That was an MSI Titan that you just smashed, love," she said in a dangerous voice, picking up the bottle of champagne now. "It cost me $3,600."
"Eye surgery will cost you more," Selina breathed, crouching into a stance of combat, "unless you tell me where Bruce is. Now."
"Still rattling on about Bruce Wayne, love?" Anassa shook her head. "There are things in this world, love, best left alone."
"So… you do have him, then…." Selina's eyes glinted very, very dangerously. "I see… you've confirmed it, then." She flexed her claws. "Now I'm very, very pissed off. And you're not going to like what comes next."
Anassa took a large swig of the champagne, swallowed, and set the bottle down without taking her eyes off of the Cat. "Make me proud," she whispered.
She allowed Selina to move in first. Claws flew through the air, a kick of the leg and a flash of the whip. All of this in one beautiful, graceful move. Like a fairy in the Nutcracker, thought Anassa. Selina almost had her, but Anassa simply sidestepped and retaliated casually, slapping Selina in the back of the head.
Selina cried out, falling forward into the bar… and that was when bottle after bottle began to crash off of the table, slamming into one another upon the floor and flooding the carpet in the luscious rivers of red and black…
Anassa's heart sunk. This Catwoman had broken the alcohol bottles. The alcohol.
"And now I'm pissed," she hissed venomously. She went at Selina in style now, throwing a high spin-kick at the Cat's head. Selina ducked beneath the fierce, fast blow, her breathing intensified. If that leg had collided with my head…
Anassa, however, stayed the attack fluidly, first punching into the wall, where Selina quickly dodged and rolled to the right, then leaping backwards as Selina returned a clawed punch for the abdomen. Selina kept her own pursuit up, throwing punch after punch at Anassa's head and chest. Anassa, naturally, blocked her each time, but became more and more pleased with just how quickly the woman moved, and how fiercely she threw each punch, her face remaining calm and her stance perfect, bending in the appropriate ways to ensure protection around vital points.
This woman was truly skilled, and Anassa liked skilled women. Too bad that this skilled woman had smashed her bar. That was unforgivable. She leapt like a lion, thusly, at this Cat and prepared to do some clawing of her own, vengeful for the fallen liquor and the interruption of the newscast (the television had been blown apart by the explosives). Any moment now, hotel security would be moving in. She wanted to have a dead body to show that she had handled the mess. The infamous Catwoman, dead at last. She would be a hero in Gotham.
But Selina dodged her leap and spun about upon the ground, aiming a kick that Anassa had not seen coming. It made contact with her back, and Anassa actually felt herself stumbled forward, and the slightest of pains shooting through her body. Ouch… Selina was on her from behind, thrashing her whip forward. It was around Anassa's neck in a flash. Anassa actually felt it difficult to breathe when this happened, and Selina began to pull her backwards with the whip.
"Where is Bruce!?" the woman was demanding, her voice seeping with venom. "Where is he!? Tell me and I'll leave you here. You're good! You're really good! You deserve to make it through this night with your body intact… if you tell me where Bruce is now!"
Anassa stopped struggling, closing her eyes and concentrating. How? How did this woman know that she knew anything about Bruce Wayne's current location? That alone was beyond impressive. She needed to know more.
"I'll tell you…" Anassa strained at last, feigning submission. "I'll tell you, if you tell me something…"
Selina thrust a powerful kick forward, her stiletto sheathing as she did, and Anassa went falling forward, into the bed, crashing into the lamp as she went. The room went dark indeed, but Selina was already flicking on the room switch. From the other side of the door, a pounding could be heard, along with some shouting, irritated voice. "What's going on in there!?" it screamed.
Selina ignored it, and instead slapped the whip against the wall again, standing over Anassa, who sat against the headboard of the bed and concentrated on her opponent.
"Tell me something, love," Anassa breathed, pushing her wild hair out of her eyes. She was in a right state. Her chest was heaving. "How did you know about Bruce?"
"So you are admitting it!?" Selina clenched her teeth, and pointed one clawed index at Anassa's face. "Where!?"
"First you tell me how… then I'll consider telling you something in return."
Both sets of eyes narrowed. Selina, now truly paying attention, realized that Anassa Blackwood's eyes were no longer green… somehow, during the fight, they had changed. Now, they burned…orange. Orangey-red, actually. And those pupils… they were no longer round, but vertical! Her eyes seemed to have some kind of fire burning within! She was not human…
Of course she was not. The way she moved, the fierceness of her strike… Selina's body still ached, and she struggled not to betray this to Blackwood.
"I have f-friends!" Anassa hissed. "I have friends… who know things. Now where is Bruce!"
"What friends, love?"
"ANSWER ME!" The whip cracked again. Anassa could tell that Selina Kyle was getting extremely off-balance. This was true anger, true wrath: the anger of a lover. Bruce was Kyle's lover… and Kyle wanted him back.
"Bruce, love?" Anassa smiled, pulling a few shards of glass from her tangles. "He's fine. He's alive… for now."
"Where-is-he!?"
"Safely tucked away… for now. If you want to see him, love… perhaps I could arrange something."
Selina leered. "What?"
Anassa sighed. "You'll see for yourself, love… your speed, your strength, your endurance… I admire it. I admire what you've shown me this evening. I think I could put that skill to some real use."
"What do you mean?"
Anassa smiled sadly, and sighed again. Then, she leapt to her feet. Selina raised the whip, ready to strike again, but Anassa raised an arm. In one hand, she held a shard of glass from the broken television. Now, she sliced forward. A small cut into her wrist… and suddenly, she was flinging her blood right at Selina! But this was no ordinary blood… it flamed. It flamed, burning brightly and true. Fire! She had fire for blood!
Selina's whip caught aflame at once, and she dropped it in shock… but even as she did, Anassa moved forward and struck upward, arcing into a clean uppercut. Selina Kyle went out at once, her world blackening as she was thrown across the room, slamming into the wall, where she crumpled upon the floor in a miserable mess…
Anassa popped her neck loudly. What an irritation.