*~*~*~*~*

            She dreaded telling Her they’d fucked up the spike.  But She’d know soon enough.  Might as well get it over with.  At least, Shane hadn’t spotted her.  That would have queered the entire mission, not to mention depriving Lee of an opportunity to get back at the young butch. 

            Yeah, She had her reasons for this spike and snatch, but Lee had her reasons for doing it.  She still seethed as she remembered Shane leading the charge of women into the back hallway of Petruccio’s, bent on rescuing a drugged-out Lara from Susan, and Rae from her.  She stroked the bone in her nose, forever crooked all because of Shane’s one lucky punch.  Loyalty to her friends was the one thing that made Shane vulnerable.  And this snatch struck right at the heart of that weakness.

            Lee stepped out of the room so she could hear, and dialed the number she’d been given.  She shivered at the sound of Her husky voice.  “We have a problem.” 

            A chilly silence waited. 

            “We spiked the wrong one.”  She listened to the terse question in her ear. 

            “Her…her lover, “ she stammered, “…the tall exotic one.” 

            She cringed and waited for Her to explode.  But she didn’t.  Cold laughter bubbled through the headset.  And then a single instruction. 

            “Bring her to me.”  Francesca snapped her phone shut.  Her eyes went black with anticipation.  Marina.  Totally at her mercy.  Unable to refuse anything she wanted.  She clapped her hands together, threw back, and laughed.  Not everything was wrong with the world.

*~*~*~*~*

            Nat, Jo, and Windrider all felt it.  In the same moment, their heads turned, eyes searching frantically through the crowd for what was happening.  It was the same dark energy, the same power that had called the vortex to them in the first place.  There was no mistaking its bitter tang and psychic sting.  From different vantage points in the room, they nodded to one another and fanned out, tracking it down, even as they felt it building.

            “Jo?” Bette yelled over the increasing din of the room.  “What’s going on?  What’s happening?”  She followed her, threading through the crowd, where the dancing seemed to have taken on a frenzied energy beyond what the music called them to.