It is currently 18:47 Pacific Time on Sat May 17 2003.

Currently the moon is in the waning Full Moon phase (89% full).

K. C. pages: Ring ring.

Long distance to K. C.: Salem answers with his usual curt promptness. "Salem here."

From afar, K. C. sounds ... a little tense, to be honest. "Mr. Salem. It's K. C. Do you have a minute?"

You paged K. C. with 'I do. Why?"'.

K. C. pages: I'm with him. The vampire. Orion. He's willing to meet with you. Harbor Park sound good?

Long distance to K. C.: Salem pauses a moment, then says, "Park's good. What time?"

From afar, K. C. sounds very faintly amused. "How's now grab you?"

Long distance to K. C.: Salem grunts. "Now? Now's fine. Be there as soon as I can."

K. C. pages: See you there. *click*

Obviously, it's really after sunset.

Harbor Park -- Fountain

Situated in the center of a large, open meadow is a clustering of six trees, a flower bed, a few steel-and-wood benches set firmly into concrete, and a flagstone courtyard that is dominated by a large fountain.

The fountain is a wide circular pool of water some fifty feet across and about five feet deep in most places. The sculpture in the center is a mix of old and new, traditional and modern: eight concrete-and-stainless-steel slabs about six feet high are set in a rough Stonehenge-like circle around the center of the fountain. Water flows from their tops, cascading in bright mesmerizing sheets to the pool below. Rising above the steel circle is a large marble statue of the Water Bearer, an androgynous figure draped in robes of flowing water. It bears a large jug carved with various Greek symbols, from which pours a seething torrent of water into the pool at its feet.

Cars on the nearby street have an excellent view of the park as do any residents of the tall buildings which line the waterfront.

The murky waters of the Columbia River flow swiftly along the east side of the park. Bracketing the park to the west is First Street and the city of St. Claire. Recent construction work is creating an earthen berm several feet high all along the borders of the park in all directions.

Salem stands not far from the fountain, smoking a cigarette and looking out over the park, scanning it alertly.

Salem

Tall and dark, he stands a few inches over six feet, a well-built and rather dangerous-looking man somewhere around thirty years old. A mane of thick black hair, usually gathered into a loose ponytail that hangs nearly to the middle of his back, frames a somber, hawkish face, the left side of which is twisted by scars. If not for this disfigurement, he could be considered handsome -- albeit in a dour, moody, saturnine kind of way. His face is one designed for brooding and cynicism, and the short black beard that lines his mouth and jaw makes him look all the more satanic. His left eye is dead white, lost within the tangled jungle of scar tissue covering that side of his face; his good eye, on the right, is dark brown, not quite black. Both are shadowed, as if from lack of sleep. In short, he has the look of the very devil about him, or of a Christ figure gone bad.

A stark white button-down shirt hangs open over a plain black t-shirt, and the cuffs of crisp black BDUs are tucked into a pair of black combat boots that look well broken-in. Something hangs from a black cord around his neck but is tucked away under his t-shirt and hidden from view. The tails of the long black leather duster sweep around his ankles; the coat appears new and is in excellent condition.

And the Walker's eyes catch sight of someone, who is probably the equivalant of his biggest worry right now. Its Renee, hands stuffed into her pocket and whistling the tune to one of the more common songs on the radio these days.

Orion drifts into view, walking like a gentleman with KC, having taken her arm for the duration of the walk from his apartment. They really could be a couple out enjoying a moonlit stroll, if one didn't know better. Hah.

Orion is a tall, averagely-built young man of roughly twenty or so years old, reaching the height of 5'10 and mildly muscled across his frame. His expression usually reflects amusement; green eyes tracking everything around him, though sometimes hindered by the short blonde bangs that hang in front of them upon occasion. These match the rest of his sandy-hued hair, short-cropped and tidy as befits a businessman. Which he surely is, given his garb.

He's wearing a well-tailored suit of dark green, a hue so deep it's almost black. Under the jacket is a black silk shirt, though the tie has been left off, and the top button left undone. Over all is a long black coat; not a trenchcoat, but something similar. Shiny black shoes almost complete the ensemble, save for one more thing; a pair of oval glasses perched on his nose, with red-tinted lenses. Retro, baby.

K. C. doesn't move like she's being forced to walk with her arm all tucked into Orion's either. Maybe not completely comfortable, but she's not struggling to get away. That's something, at least, for better or worse.

Cafe-au-lait skin. Amber eyes. Hundreds upon handfuls of micro-braids, the ends spiraling to the middle of her back, top lengths held back with a simple golden clip. Manicured nails, currently painted something close to mother-of-pearl, and just enough makeup.

She stands 5'10" on a slender frame. Casual's the word, if she can do casual. Even in faded denim and Keds, there's still a hint of refinement. Maybe it's an act. She wears a black tank-top beneath a man's white shirt, tucked in and left unbuttoned to the waist. There's a simple golden necklace around her throat and a watch on her left wrist.

Salem's mouth tightens into a thin line as he spots the Bone Gnawer. He's about to call over to her when K.C. and her 'friend' arrive. Instead, he shakes his head and extinguishes the handrolled cigarette. Ignoring Renee for now, he walks over toward the pair, flicking the cig butt into a trashcan on the way. His body language is outwardly casual with an aura of tension underneath. Controlled temper.

Renee stands at a height of 5'4 inches tall and is probably somewhere between sixteen and seventeen years old. The young woman's hair is mid shoulder in length and shows off a striking dye job. Alternating streaks of bright blue and solid black. The Gnawer's eyes are a deep chocolate brown and reflect a world-wise wariness of someone who has seen a lot during their time on this earth. The young woman's tan skin hints at some Italian, or Asian ancestry, blended in with a primarily Caucasian background. Fine white scars are visible on the Renee's face, if one looks closely enough. When she speaks, the Gnawer's voice is rough and misused.

The young woman is wearing a pair of black baggy jeans, with embedded chains. Three on ether side, outlining her hips and clanking slightly as she moves. Her breasts are covered by a red top that is little more then a sports bra. Leaving her arms and midriff exposed, showing off well toned muscles. The skin on Renee's arms show a series of faint white scars, with some more obvious ones marring her stomach. Pierced through her belly button is a gold ring, from which hangs a silver wolf's head. A leather jacket loaded with zippers and showing the signs of heavy wear, completes the ensemble.

The vampire releases KC's arm as they draw closer to the brooding Walker. Rather than offer his hand to shake as he might normally do, however, he sketches a bow in Salem's direction to satisfy his need for manners.

K. C. squares her shoulders, a little self-consciously as Salem walks closer, and alternates between letting her arms hang at her sides, and tucking them across her chest. She settles for the latter, and shifts her weight onto one hip. "Mr. Salem, meet Orion. Orion, Mr. Salem."

Continues to whistle a pop-tune, that is currently popular with the radio stations. The whistling stops somewhere in mid-tune, as she notices the Walker's and their compainion. While she has never seen Orion before, she did get a good descrption of him from K. C.. Eyes narrowing, she changes course.

Salem gives Orion a curt little nod, barely polite but at least restrained. Incredibly restrained, in fact; his expression is cold but displays no obvious hostility. His mismatched gaze studies the suited man carefully, as if memorizing details. "A pleasure." He turns to K.C. "We're not alone here, by the way." His voice is pitched low, not meant to carry past the three of them.

Orion clasps his hands behind his back, nodding slightly in return to the ex-slord. His sharp ears pick up the sound of whistling, however, and he looks over in the direction of it's source. "Ah." Recognition, it seems, has set in, though he makes no other comment. "My lady, have you neglected to tell me something?" he inquires genially of KC.

"We're n--" The whistle gets to K.C.'s ears as well, and she looks past Salem and toward it's source. Her shoulders hunch noticably, and her chin lifts. "No." That single word is almost a sulk. "I didn't forget to tell you anything. I didn't know we'd have company. This is for you and Mr. Salem. Anything else that happens ... I'll take care of that."

"See to her." Salem directs this command at K.C.

Renee comes to a stop about twenty feet from the group, lightly rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. She watches Orion, with a looking that isn't exactly friendly.

The vampire sketches a bow towards Renee as well, though no verbal greeting is offered towards her. Instead, he then turns towards the perpetually-brooding Walker, smiling pleasently without the slightest hint of elongated canines. "So. What can I do for you, Mr Salem?"

Salem folds his arms across his chest, turning back to Orion and focussing his attention on the vampire. "Just a talk," he says. "A friendly chat... to see what sort of... person you are." His tone of voice is polite enough, though there's little that's friendly about his appearance. "My associate says that you want to live here."

Long distance to the room: Salem notes that he _does_ have Truth of Gaia activated.

K. C. angles toward Renee, rather more quickly than is strictly necessary. Once she's close enough, she says, "Renee. I didn't expect to see you here."

Renee's nostrils flare and her jaw clenches, as she looks past the Walker. Continuing to watch the meeting bettwen Salem and Orion. "Patrolin' here, ain't unusual fer me."

"Not live, exactly, but you get the idea," Orion agrees placidly. "Shall we take a walk, my lord?" he suggests then, arms folding comfortably over his chest, his words never less than polite.

"Certainly." Salem starts walking, away from K.C. and Renee, angling somewhat toward the river and trusting the vampire to follow -- just as he trusts his tribemate to take care of certain inconvenient young Bone Gnawers.

K. C. summons up a faint smile. "Someone's got to do it, I guess. Still, we've got it covered for the night. Why don't you check the rest of your patrol? Mr. Salem and I can handle the park for one night."

Following, since it would probably be suicidal not to, Orion takes note of the behaviours between the three Garou and heads riverwards after Salem, half expecting to see a lupine tailtip sticking out of the bottom of the Walker's leather duster.

Renee growls softly and brushes past K.C., gaze shifting. Instead of focusing on the Vampire, she switches her attention to Salem. While she does follow the pair, she keeps a goodly distance back.

Happily for everyone -- not to mention the Veil -- the wolf's well-contained within the man's flesh... even if it's not buried all that deep. Salem slows to let the vampire catch him up and speaks quietly, for the blooddrinker's ears alone. "My associate has said a few things, but I like hearing things from the original source. Why do you want to stay in St. Claire, and why should I allow you to?"

K. C. jogs a few steps to put herself between Renee and the path that Salem and Orion take. "Hey. Hey!" The smile has an edge to it now. "Know what? Walker business. Let's just leave Mr. Salem to it, Renee. Tell you what." She glances over her shoulder and back. "I'll do patrol with you instead."

Making an airy gesture with his hand, Orion murmurs, "I like the atmosphere and the people," to the former question, then smiles faintly. "As for the latter....well, I'm not entirely sure, except that at some point there will be Kindred here to stay, my lord. You might as well have ones who don't kill to feed and who - like myself - consider themselves reasonable."

Orion pages: The first bit about atmosphere and so on is a little white lie.
Orion pages: As in, it's true, but that's not why he's staying.

Renee snarls, as her field of vision is blocked. "Bullshit," she hisses. "This is city buisness. You guys don't own the fuckin' city. I'm not gonna get close enough ta cause a problem fer yer Elder." The young woman lifts her eyes, meeting those of the Walker. "Now, get out of my fuckin' way."

"There haven't been... _Kindred_ here for years," Salem replies coolly. "I imagine that most of your kind count the number of mine in the area and wisely decide to stay away. I _am_ a reasonable man, but, quite frankly, I need a better reason from you than 'I like the atmosphere'." He turns slightly, not quite meeting the vampire's eyes. "Are you on the run, either from other vampires or any other faction?"

"Better _Kindred_ than _Cainites_," Orion replies dryly, noting the avoidance of his eyes and smiling ever-so slightly. "Tell me, Mr Salem, you've dealt with my race before, haven't you. Do you know how we are structured?" A hand raises to adjust his oval shades for a moment as he awaits the answer to his prompting.

So much for being polite. K. C.'s smile disappears entirely and her lip curls, just a little. "It's a meeting between Mr. Salem and the vampire. And that's it. That makes it Walker, -not- city business. Unless you've decided to change your stripes, that means it doesn't involve you. So I will not, thank you kindly, get out of your fuckin' way."

"I have," Salem answers simply. "And I do."

Orion nods slightly. "I thought so. In that case, are you familiar with the idea of being clanless, my lord? Without family or alliegance, no structure to turn to? Being thought of as no better than the garbage drifting down the streets? Imagine that for an eternity, and perhaps you'll have some small idea as to why I've come to where my kind are few and far between."

Renee smiles, suprisingly calmly. If one ignores the tension building just under the surface. "Is a Leech, in /my/ city. Makes it my buisness, chica. You make Eb happy. I'd hate ta hurt ya an' make him pissed at me." She waves a hand almost dismissivly. "Now jus' step ta one side, fer fucks sake. I ain't gonna move. Jus' gotta be able ta see'em."

Salem's mouth thins subtly; the werewolf nods once. "All right. Fair enough. I'll accept that was why you want to stay. Now, to why I should _allow_ you to stay." He speaks with confidence and practiced authority. "You know something about the other vampires in towen currently?"

"Like I said, there arn't many of us, compared to the usual numbers for a city this size," Orion murmurs quietly. "I've only met a single other one since I've been here, and he was a....he wasn't pleasent. Newly arrived, like myself."

There's a whole new hardness in K.C's expression at mention of Ebony. "Ebony's a grown man. And I can take care of myself, so let's just leave him out of it, okay? Okay." She summons up another smile, though it's cold at best. "Look," she says, and steps aside, but her gaze stays on Renee. "From here. You move, I'll be in your face again."

Salem cocks his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. "He was a what? Sabbat?"

Orion shakes his head. "Oh no, nothing quite so vile. No Cainites that /I/ have seen, in any case," he murmurs to the Walker. "He was Ventrue." The clan name is pronnounced as if the man speaking it just tasted something nasty. Tamarind, maybe.

Renee snorts, her relatively calm expression has been replaced by something far more angry. The beast is clawing at the door and demanding to be let out. "I jus' said I wouldn't want ta make him mad at me. I know he is a good man." Her tone is surprisingly gentle, considering the expression on her face. With that said, she goes back to focusing on the pair. More specificly on Salem.

Renee pages: Mindspeak: "You want him alive, thats fine. You wanna be a corpse cuddlier, thats fine with me.. All I want to know, is weither or not he has Ghouled that family he is livin' with. Or, if has has Ghouled peeps in his time, or plans ta in the future. Also, if he is makin' more of his kind."

Salem grunts. "Are you willing to help us locate and eliminate the other vampires, Kindred or--" He stops, the slow ambling steps halting briefly as his brow furrows. A few seconds later, the Walker shakes his head as if irritated and continues speaking as if nothing had happened. "Kindred or otherwise?"

"Doing so would prove rather detrimental to my health," Orion murmurs quietly. "Much as turning my back to you would be. I can give you the name and haunt of this Ventrue, but for any more, I will need more than nebulous promises of safety from lupine vigilantes."

K. C. turns to face Salem and Orion as well, tucking her arms hard over her chest. If she were a little younger, she might stick her bottom lip out. As it is, she sets her jaw and keeps her peace. For now.

Salem's mouth thins into a tense line. "Information makes the world go round," he answers blandly. "We'll leave that for a moment, though. The family whose apartment you share, the woman and children. Are they ghouled?"

"Mrs O'Ryan, Alice and Jason have left St Claire, my lord," Orion replies steadily. "As I told lady KC, they cannot defend themselves from your people the way I can, and they would invariably be used against me. So I asked them to leave." He pauses a moment, rifling a hand back through his hair before adding, "And no, they were not."

Salem considers this, turning his head slightly to study the vampire again -- and, as before, too wary to meet the leech's eyes directly. "Are you planning to make any more? Either ghouls or full members of your... kind?"

"No." Orion's response carries an utterly unarguable air with it. "Vampirism is a curse, my lord. I hate it; why would I inflict it on another? Ghouling perhaps, if the situation warrants it....but it is usually avoidable."

"No other ghouls of yours in this city?" Salem inquires.

"No other? That would imply I'd had any to begin with," the Vampire replies a touch acidly now. He looks up into the night sky, regarding one of the stars for a moment before adding, "I can't speak for any other Kindred, but I have none at the moment. Here or elsewhere."

K. C. asks, after her long silence, "See anything you like?"

Renee's gaze remains fixed on the pair, as she answers the question. "Needed ta see him, ta talk. I told him what I wanted ta know. Jus' waitin' fer answers, now."

"I don't expect you to speak for the others," Salem replies icily. "Which is why I asked about yours, specificially. So." He nods once. "The name and haunt of the Ventrue will do. As for the rest, as long as you do not kill, ghoul, or Embrace any of the human population of St. Claire, there'll be no reason to hunt you." His smile is thin and humorless. "We do, after all, have more pressing targets." The smile is gone.

You paged Renee with 'No answer. You probably get the sense that he 'heard' you, but he's not responding. He is, in fact, resisting the mindspeak 'waking dream'. Then again, it's distracting to mindspeak and he's probably concentrating on dealing with the leech.'.

Dipping a hand into his pocket, Orion fishes out a small notebook with pen attatched, jotting down the answers Salem seeks. Tearing the paper off he offers it silently over to the Walker, pocketing his notepad as he does so. "For my life I betray my brothers," he laments. "But better the soul survivor be a man of integrity than one of violence." What?

Orion pages: 'Troy', a ventrue who lives in a poky compound near the alley that feeds between Regan and Bridge.

Salem takes the paper, glancing at it briefly before tucking it safely inside his coat. "Our turf, our rules." Broad shoulders move in a slight shrug. "For what it's worth, if you _are_ truly an outcast, I sympathize." Something in the werewolf's tone indicates that the meeting is pretty much near its end, and he seems satisfied. Ill-tempered and dour, perhaps, but satisfied.

K. C. says a simple, flat-toned, "It could have waited until another time."

"It's not sympathy I'm looking for, my lord," Orion points out dryly. "In any case, I have to see a man about a dog. So nice to have met someone else who can think rationally." Another short bow, in lieu of hand-shaking, before the Vampire looks back to the pair of women.

Salem follows the vampire's glance. "Don't worry about the streetrat. Reason has to be forced on her sometimes, but she _can_ be made to listen." Good thing Renee's not close enough to hear that.

"No," Renee rumbles in reply. "I had some questions. This way, I know that I'm gonna get the answers ta the questions I wanted ta ask."

Orion begins to move away from the Walker. Never quite turning his back to the Garou, keeping an eye on him and the girls just in case. Never know with these sneaky lupines, after all.

K. C. steps forward as if she'd been summoned, even though she hasn't. She moves toward Salem, but she says before she goes, "You still should have waited."

Making her way down the path to the fountain is Alicia, singing loudly, arms swaying at her sides. She is wearing her leather trench today, combat boots and her army fatigues. All decked out and no where to go.

Salem does, however, turn his back on the vampire in a gesture that's either one of foolish trust or (more likely) arrogant confidence. He strides over toward K.C. and Renee, hands buried in the pockets of his coat.

Renee snorts. "This is still my city."

"So, what answers did ya get outta the corpse?" Renee asks, once Salem gets close enough.

K. C. bites back a comment, holds her breath a moment, then says carefully, "Looks like things went well, Mr. Salem."

Salem speaks to the other Glass Walker first. "They did." Then his gaze shifts down to Renee, hardening. "And _you_," he says, all pleasantness vanishing from his voice and manner. "Stay out of my head. I let it slide when your throat was torn open the other week, but that was an _exception_." He takes a step toward her, aggressively dominant. "No telepathy. No mindspeaking. _Nothing_. Understood?"

"Yo. Wassup my homies?" Alicia calls out from behind them as she comes upon them, snapping her trench coat back a bit. "Whats the four one one?"

Renee snorts, but she does turn her head to one side. Showing a little throat. "Do you have my answers?"

K. C. rounds on Renee. "-That's- what you were doing? -That's- why you needed to ... you could have screwed -everything- up! I -told- you, it was -none- of your -business-," the younger Walker Philodox snarls.

Salem lays a hand on K.C.'s shoulder. "Leave it. It's done." Noticing Alicia, he nods the Gaian over.

"Yah, don't all answer at once. What the fuck is going on?" Alicia asks as she makes her way up to Salem's side, glacning over to K.C., then Renee, giving each a nod.

Renee's eyes narrow, as she focuses her attention on the female half-moon. "You keep sayin' that," the Gnawer growls. "I keep tellin' you that you're wrong. You wanna Challenge me over it, go ahead. Otherwise, fuck off. Keep tryin' ta lord over me the way her boss does, an' I will rip your fuckin' face off. Got it?" She turns her head to face Alicia, completly dismissing the other woman. "Yer boss was havin' a meetin' with a walkin'-corpse. They're all pissed, 'cause the don't think I have any right ta know what the fuck is happenin' in /my/ city."

Salem's bland, if tense, expression vanishes into a sudden snarl; he turns swiftly toward Renee and rockets a punch right at the Gnawer's face. "I _said_ LEAVE IT!"

K. C.'s shoulders hitch upward, but she stops just short of shrugging Salem's hand off. Of course, it's not there for long, and whatever K. C. might have been planning to say is swallowed by that thrown punch. She, rather than waiting to see it connect, turns on her heel and paces right by Alicia, muttering under her breath, hands curled into fists.

"Hey, what the holy hell people!" Alicia says, surprised as Salem goes about punching at the Gnawer. "Look, I'm ganna kick all three of your asses if you all don't fucking /chill/. I don't know what the hell is going on, but I got a can of whoop ass I'm ready to open up an we don't need this fighting among ourselves bullcrap."

Renee is knocked a good two-feet back from the force of the blow and flat onto her back. She sits up rather slowly, fingering a split lip and an already swelling cheek. "Seems I'll jus' have ta find my own answers," she growls, blood dripping from the split lip. Just as slowly as she sat up, the Gnawer stands. "An' I'm sorry 'bout usin' Mindspeak. Didn't realize you found it so fuckin' offencive." More blood splatters, as Renee is forced to talk past the cut. Turning heel, she starts to walk away.

Salem ignores Alicia for the moment. "Renee, get the fuck back here," he growls, flexing his right hand. His speech has a bite to it. "I _have_ your fucking answers. In fact, your fucking answers were _already_ on my fucking need-to-know. So get the fuck back here so I can _give_ them to you."

Alicia lets out a huff as she glances back and forth between the two, obviously ignored. Well, what the fuck ever. She shakes her head and glances off after K.C., then huffs.

K. C. is pacing back and forth in a little invisible box of her own making. Oh yes, she saw the blow, and she's watching, but she's very deliberately keeping her distance as she opens and closes her fists. "If you," she warns Alicia, "are coming to preach peace at me, save it until morning."

Alicia throws her hands up and just starts walking off. "Whatever, I got important shit to do back at the Caern. You all just kill each other then." She doesn't look to be in a real good mood either, and, its none of her buisness anyways.

Renee doesn't come back, but she does stop and turn half-way around. Watching the Walker through the one eye that isn't in the process of swelling shut.

Salem has, for the moment, all his attention focussed on Renee. "One, the family haven't been ghouled," he says, massaging the knuckles of his right hand. "In fact, he's sent them out of town for their own safety. Didn't want them caught in the crossfire. Two, he doesn't have any other ghouls, nor does he plan to make any, or any of himself." He gives his hand a bit of a shake, then takes out a white handkerchief and wipes the blood from his knuckles, all with crisp, businesslike motions. "He's given us the name and haunt of another vampire. And he came here to avoid his own kind."

"Nobody's killing anybody," K. C. says between her teeth. "Sticking their -noses- in other people's business," she says, loudly enough to carry, "but not killing." A beat, and she directs a "Sorry," at Alicia.

Twirling a finger in the air, Alicia keeps on walking.

At K.C.'s words, Salem holds up a finger, half-turning toward her. "Correction. Renee, as Elder of the Bone Gnawers, _does_ have the right to know these things." He glances back at Renee. "Even if she doesn't trust me to recognize this." His voice is still cold, tight. "If for no other reason than I don't want anyone hunting this individual down _unless_ he does something stupid, like kill someone."

Renee slowly nods. "Good," she says grimly, the words slighly slurred do to her swollen lip. "Your pet, your responsibility. /Our/ city. I'm allowed ta be nosey an' paranoid, when it comes ta Leeches." She turns her back on Salem an' continues walking home. "You try bein' Ghouled sometime."

Salem bares his teeth in a humorless grin. "Trust me, Renee. _No one_ has more reason to dislike the bloodsuckers than I do." He adds, commandingly, "Pass the word. No one touches Orion. For _now_... he has protected status. For now."

K. C. bites her tongue, or more likely the inside of her cheek, but she keeps quiet.

There is no answer from the Gnawer, as continues putting distance between herself and the Walkers. Her only reply is her middle finger, casually flipped up over right shoulder. A minute more and Renee is out of the park and heading south.

Salem watches her go, then exhales sharply through his nose, snorting like an irritated bull. Then he turns to K.C. "Between you and me, I think we can work with him," he says, stuffing the bloodied handkerchief back in his coat pocket. "Sounds like he just wants to be left alone. Which is fine by me."

K. C. holds her hands up. "If that's what he wants, fine by me. We can leave him alone, he can leave us alone, too." Her hands dip, and she ducks her head. "He, ah. He knows where you live, Mr. Salem."

Salem stiffens. His gaze gains weight as he stares at the other Walker. "How."

K. C. sighs and her shoulders droop. "I didn't even know until tonight. But you remember the other night? After the *last* time I dealt with Renee? I came over to your place." She wrinkles her nose. "He followed me."

Salem's jaw clenches. He is, very clearly, displeased. "Fuck." He shakes his head and fishes out a handrolled cigarette from the thin black case he keeps inside his coat. "Couldn't be helped, I suppose," he growls, lighting up. "I fucking hate it when they can do invisible."

"I asked him about that," K. C. admits. "And he told me he couldn't tell me how he did it. The invisible thing." She wrinkles her nose again. "At least he didn't send *you* roses." She shivers. "Anyway. I thought you should know. And I'm sorry."

Salem takes a long drag on the cigarette. "Forget it." With a free hand, he brushes back a stray lock of hair, looking pensive. "I'm going to take a walk. Clear my mind."

"Makes you feel any better, he'll come to my place first. I shot him." Oh. Right. She nods and tucks her arms across her chest again. "Have a good walk, Mr. Salem."

Salem manages a brief twitch of something approximating a smile. "Good night, K.C. Gaia watch you." He starts heading off.

"And you." She scuffs off the other way.