"You need a stiff one..." Raya told Lana as she glared at her out of the corner of her eye.

The Impala's door locks clicked automatically the second the motor hummed to life.

"Yeah, and maybe a valium," Lana replied flatly. She sniffled. A few tears had seeped through her composure.

"Now, now. There's no need for prescription drugs." Raya patted Lana's shoulder. "We're going to drown our sorrows in some alcohol like responsible adults. I'll call the client and have him meet us there."

"Just get us out of here," Lana urged.

Robby was finally free of the pummeling guy. He rushed to the car, slamming into its side, and pounded on the passenger window. Lana tried her best to ignore the dolt.

"Please, open the door!" he shouted, and he pulled on the locked door handle. When that did no good, he thumped the window with his fist some more. "Baby-cakes, I love you. I didn't mean to push you."

Lana made no sign of interest in anything he said. She stared straight ahead, hating him and feeling ashamed of all the crap she'd taken from him during the whole relationship.

Raya followed suit and ignored the loser as well. She steered the Impala toward Whiskeyville, her favorite bar, leaving Robby standing alone and shouting lame excuses and promises they all knew he would never keep.

Lana peeked in the side mirror as they drove off. She grumbled, "So much time wasted. What the fuck was I thinking?" under her breath, then punched the top of her sister's car to release some steam. It didn't make a dent, of course, but it was loud.

"Hey, watch it," Raya complained, swiping at Lana in a 'calm down' motion. "It's over. Hear me? You don't have to worry about him anymore."

Luckily, the bar was just about three songs on the car's CD player down the road, so by the time Taylor Swift's song Trouble was ending, they were parking at their destination. A bright building glowed through the harsh darkness of night. Purple numbers and letters above the door say Club Nightmare. It was Raya's favorite place to wind down after a busy or difficult night.

"Alright. Let's get this party started," Raya said as she shut the car off.

She fished her Prada wallett and cell phone out of her purse, but left the pepper spray. They wouldn't let her take that inside; it's considered a weapon. "Come on." She flashed Lana a devilish smile. It had been a while since they'd gone clubbing together.

Lana removed her seatbelt, looked in the rear view mirror, and pouted her lips to check her lipstick before getting out. She tugged at her plaid skirt. It was a tad chilly outside the car, but nothing she couldn't handle. She stood and waited for Raya, who was sounding pretty chatty on her cell phone, no doubt talking to the client. She'd called him Bruce.

Lana let her mind wander. Mister Bruce, a rich Bruce at that...like Bruce Wayne! Yeah! My own batman for one night! Lana chuckled out loud at the absurd thought. That's just what I need.

Raya ended the call and speed walked up beside Lana in her clickity-clacky high heels.

"He's on his way. He should be here in around ten or fifteen minutes." She looked excited. "He sounds hot! I can usually tell by the way they sound on the phone - sort of like a super power. Not much of one to brag about, but oh well." She shrugged. "At least if he's hot, it'll be a nice bonus."

Lana grinned in anticipation. With a name like Bruce, she'd almost bet he was attractive. Of course, who could tell for sure from voices and names? Still, they were drawn to the name and the voice, so why not imagine the rest to be equally satisfactory?

The sisters walked up to the entrance and the big bald bouncer, Jerome, gave Raya a familiar smile and nod of the head. They entered the loud bar without having to pay a cover charge. They squinted through the blacklight inside. Lana's eyes took a while to adjust, but Raya's sight was used to such things. She found an empty table at the far side corner in a jiffy. Taking her sister's hand, Raya led the way through the crowd, shoving and throwing the occasional elbow here and there until they reach the table in the corner of the over-crowded dance floor.

Boogeyman by Rob Zombie pounded through the speakers. Raya enjoyed the vibrations it sent through her each time the bass hit. There was just something so primitive about it. Something that took her away from obligations and sins, to where only instinct reigned. Something she loved. She sang along and bobbed her head.

Lana wasn't as home in the place as Raya was. To Lana, the place smelled of old sweat, stale cigarettes, and raunchy sex. What a mighty fine combination, Lana thought sarcastically, missing the comfortable, homey scent of books. Every second they stayed in the place was one second more Lana felt restrained. Robby would get so mad if he knew! she thought in her old panicked way.

"I'm feeling a bit off about this, Ray," Lana confessed.

"Don't you dare," Raya said wide-eyed. "Don't you dare back out on me now. We're already here, Lana." Her voice had a whiny characteristic that made Lana cringe.

"I know, but- you know?" Lana shrugged and fought for the words to explain her current guilt complex.

Raya sighed and closed her eyes. Lana always did this. One night, that's all Raya was asking her for. Heck, she didn't even have to do anything except have fun. On the other hand, this was new to her sister. Lana had just broken up with her creep boyfriend and lost her job. . . . When Raya opened them again she looked much more sympathetic.

"Look. I know it's hard the first few times. Just pretend. Think of it as a talent show play-"

"Yeah, only without an audience. Or a theatre. Or clothes. . . . ."

"Clothes-schmothes. You need a drink. Some good ol' liquid courage," Raya said smacking the table energetically. She waved over a cute blonde girl wearing a black choker, short leather shorts with a matching crop-top. The girl carried a round tray in her hand with a dozen drinks on top. Raya took two of them and slipped some bills in the girl's waistband.

"But...but Robby-" Lana protested.

"Seriously, Lana? You forgetting how much of an asshat he is? He just got you fired, honey! He treats you like dirt. Giving your phone number out to other girls, stealing and pawning Grandma's ring, hiding his dope in your purse, getting you arrested- You were in jail, Lana, actual jail. Where they put criminals and psychopaths. I had to talk to you on a grimy phone, through glass! And, I'm going to be honest, orange is not your color," Raya ranted.

"I hated that stupid state issued outfit. I still can't eat oranges," Lana said, shaking her head. She looked thoughtful a moment, then resolved and angry. "You know what? Fuck him!" she spat.

"Yeah, fuck him," Raya agreed.

Without knowing exactly what it was, and with a look of desperation, Lana slammed her drink back. Across the table, Raya mimicked her. It was unmistakably Jack Daniels. They'd had it dozens of times in their teens, until their grandmother started catching on and bought a liquor cabinet with a lock.

"Whew, shit," Lana said as the glorious sting settled in. Her throat burned like fire and her eyes began to water. "That'll kick the anxiety." She instantly craved more, as though Jack Daniels was bottled kill-the-memories-of-your-asshole-ex. For now, that little drink would solve her heartache.

Raya caught the waitress' attention and ordered two more dry Jacks each. A tiny spark of thrill was igniting inside her. Tonight was going to be fun, just as she had predicted. They knocked back the drinks and even accepted another couple sent over by a regular customer of Raya's. She winked at him and emptied the glass.

Tonight's not your night buddy, she thought, but she did appreciate the booze.

Lana's anxiety flew the coop and she was starting to get antsy, jumping every time someone came in the club. As each person that came in had a woman at his side or joined other club ears, Raya grew more frustrated with the client...and with Lana.

"Ray!" Lana spurted over the music, smacking Raya's arm to get her attention for the tenth time.

"Damn, what?" Raya grumbled, dropping her phone. "I was trying to call the client."

"That's Bruce. I know it. It has to be," Lana said. "I hope it is."

The man Lana was pointing at was the dark, rugged, handsome type. Jesus, Raya thought as her heart did an odd potter-patter. He looked like a Greek god, but a bad one. Hades? His lips were pressed in a stern line, and his eyes were darkened, giving off an intriguing sort of mystery. Either this guy was a badass or he was a no-nonsense businessman, Raya decided.

"You think?" she asked.

"Gotta be. Look at his suit. Looks like Armani." Lana sang the last word, knowing it would entice her sister, bless her superficial heart.

It was Armani. Raya could spot a name brand in a sea of cheap sears suits from across the mall. This club was no different.

"He's certainly the only one here who looks like they've got enough cash to afford us," Raya said.

Good thing he's attractive, Lana thought, not that it mattered much by that point. Lana was sloshed and so pissed at Robby, she would screw the client just to spite him, and Raya was all but blinded by dollar signs and his sharp jawline.

"Let's go see," Raya said, sliding off of the sticky bar seat.

The man strolled up to the the counter and parked his bottom on a barstool. Raya brazenly sashayed right up to the man, a sultry look in her eyes - the usual look she reserved for clients in order to influence better tips. Standing smack-dab in front of Armani-man, she asked, "Are you Bruce, Handsome?"

He admired Raya openly, biting his bottom lip to hide a grin. His gaze shifted to Lana, whom was standing right behind her. He seemed impressed.

"Well, they've sent some sexy ones this time. Must be my lucky night," he mused. He had to shout over the sound of metal music playing.

The sisters brightened up- not because of the compliment he'd paid with his eyes, but because of the confirmation that he was waiting for them.

"You're too kind." Raya smiled showing her expensive dental work.

"Not so bad yourself, Brucey." Lana winked.

It was an awkward wink. Flattery was certainly not Lana's strong suit, but Raya was glad her sister felt comfortable enough with the situation to give it a go. Of course, it didn't hurt that this guy was mouthwatering. She noticed other women checking him out in a very interested fashion and wondered why he would possibly want to request call girls. How peculiar. Were they in the twilight zone? Maybe they got the wrong guy. . . .

Raya chastised herself. The wrong guy? What the hell just made her think that? It was the drink, she was sure of it. It'll play tricks on ya.

"What'll it be tonight, Bruce?" the bartender asked at that moment, and her faltering smile widened. Bingo. Proof. Whatever his reason was for calling them instead of picking up a lucky girl or two here, she was game.

"Let's party," she said.

The lights in the club flashed in time with the bass. Something heavy that Raya hadn't heard before was playing and the dance floor was so foggy that the crowd looked like dancing shadow puppets without features. Meanwhile the drinks where flowing, and Bruce was looking and sounding better by the minute. Not that he had to try. He was honestly funny and delightful. A real charismatic fellow. It just made that thorn in Raya's side twist and dig, but the deeper it went, the harder she fought to ignore it. Her whole night would be a bust if she didn't go through with this.

Lana rested her hand on Bruce's shoulder. She was so close he could have stuck out his tongue and licked the tip of her nose. She grabbed a handful of his thick, dark hair and pressed his face into hers. She was kissing him so hard his stubble hurt a little, pressing into her soft ivory skin.

"A little pleasure before business?" he asked in a deep sultry voice.

Lana giggled.

Not to be shown up, Raya playfully pushed Lana out of the way.

"Save some for me," she said, trying to make the client feel highly desirable. She ran her wet tongue across his lips, then gave him a teasing little lap dance. Her supple bottom bounced against the crotch of his nice suit. 

Bruce seemed to have about all he could take. Slightly flushed, he tore his eyes away from Raya's ass and suggested they move the party back to his place. He flashed a hungry smile.

Lana noticed his canines were very pointy, but it took no attention away from those beautiful light-blue eyes. And what did they call his skin tone anyway? Golden? Honey? Whatever it was called, it was smooth and made his eyes almost glow.

His smile chilled Raya. Somehow it seemed so sinister, like the grin of a mad man. She shook it off, reminding herself to drool as much as possible over the customer, not to act freaked out by him. She didn't make a living running from clients because they reminded her of some spooky story her grandpa told her on some cold night in front of their fireplace. . . . It had been years since she even thought of those stories.

Both girls thought maybe it was just the liquor making them see things. Bruce looked thoughtfully at the two electric blue-eyed beauties. His nostrils spread and relaxed a few times, as if he were breathing in their essence. He gave Raya a peculiar look.

"You okay, baby?" she asked, trying to keep the high spirits going.

"Just enjoying your intoxicating scent, my dear. On second thought, how does a room at the motel six sound?" he asked.

"What's wrong with Holiday Inn?" Raya asked, then teased him a bit by nibbling his bottom lip.

The man kissed her roughly, just the way she prefers, then replied, "Motel six is closer."

She couldn't argue with that. The air in the club was intoxicating, causing her to have strange flashbacks. She needed out of there to think clearly.

-----

In moments they stood outside the office at Motel 6. Lana was sloshed. Raya was tipsy, but she had to keep some of her wits so she'd held back some. She'd been sober enough to drive them over to the hotel. Bruce had come by his own means and was already inside getting a room, so the sisters left the deed solely up to the handsome client.

As soon as they entered the room and the door shut, Bruce eagerly started shedding clothing. He pulled his shirt up to reveal abs for days. Lana's sharp intake told Raya she was pleased, but Raya couldn't be won over so easily. She'd seen abs before. She'd seen handsome men. Okay, maybe not the hypnotic eyes or the coy grin, but she'd damn sure seen that sultry look, but what they needed to show her first was cold hard cash. The green. Dinero.

"Whoa, cowboy," Raya said, her fingers spread over the neat, thin layer of hair on his hard chest. "We still have to discuss method of payment."

"Eh? You're still on about that? I thought we were here to have fun?" he said, confused and a bit annoyed while pulling his pants down.

"Business first," Raya said.

Lana was silent, having no real experience in these dealings, and feeling a bit like the Jack Daniels might come up if she opened her mouth at the moment.

Bruce's pants were off and his underwear bulged impatiently. He pulled Raya close, sliding the bottom of her tight dress up, lifting her off the floor in his strong arms. She smacked his hands.

"What the-"

"I said business first, you naughty boy," she said in a mock playful voice. Keep the client happy, she kept telling herself.

He dropped her. "Fine. You can tell Mitch I'll have his payment next week." He huffed, waving a hand as if to wave away the bothersome conversation.

"What? Who's Mitch? I mean us. We need payment," Raya said, pointing back and forth to herself and her sister to indicate who we was.

She watched his face as his mind worked out the situation. Two hot chicks, approaching him like they had no fear, weren't turned off by his wild pheromones...because they weren't focused on anything except his wallet. He didn't know how they knew his name, or where he'd be, but they were certainly-

"You mean you're hookers?"

"No, asshole, we're call girls, and you called us, remember?" Raya hated to be called a hooker.

He scoffed. "I not paying a whore for sex. I thought you were like me."

"Like you? Sure we like to have fun, but we like to earn a living, too. Since you already had a date, you owe us two hundred a piece for our time." She was so done, sobering up entirely from the man's insults.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he demanded.

"Our company isn't cheap, honey," she countered.

"Just pay us, we're done," Lana said, suddenly wondering how she got in this situation. She was shaking like a leaf.

"I'm not givin' you shit!" he said in a challenging way.

"You will or else!" Raya snapped.

Normally, she'd pull her phone right out and call Kevin, but she'd foolishly left her phone outside in the car. She soon realized she'd screwed up. Major. Bruce jerked her by the arm and tossed her to the bed as though she were as light as the pillows she landed on.

"Or else what?" he growled, clearly furious that a hooker had threatened him.

Lana yelped and dodged his hand as he swooped it out to snatch her as well. She wasn't about to let him corner them both. He abandoned Lana and turned back toward Raya. She'd been the one to threaten him.

"Foolish whore. I don't mean having fun, I mean I thought you were what I am. But you're so weak, you can't be. Don't worry, I'll make you like me," he taunted.

Raya had no idea what he was rambling about, all she knew was they had to get out of here. He was crazy. She watched in terror as the man began to change. His nose became a snout and dark fur started sprouting everywhere. His nails grew into long claws, his teeth grew into sharp fangs, and the sisters screamed their brains out. Someone in the next room banged on the wall and told them to keep it down.

The fact that werewolves were real wasn't the most horrific realization at that moment, it was that they'd come face to face with an angry one that scared them more than they'd ever imagined they could be scared.

The hulk-sized creature lunged at Raya, and as he went to sink his great fangs into her neck, she lifted her arm just in time for him to sink into it instead.