Oh boy. This was bad. I shook my head to try and clear the cobwebs while I scoot away from Zhang on the ground. She followed me and cuffed me on the ear again. “Where are my things?” she asked.

I tried to think. What were the consequences of me turning the relics back over to her? We could always get them later, but it might be tougher to prove Northcutt was involved. Zhang stepped over my body and knelt on her heels. She slapped me across the face again, “Agent, I asked you a question.”

“Fuck, give me a minute. And stop hitting me.” I rubbed my cheek.

“You don’t have a minute. Give me my things or suffer.”

Zhang was wearing a black Cheongsam with gold colored trim. There was a tear-drop shaped opening just below her throat that showcased a gorgeous jade pendant and showed just a hint of her cleavage. There were long slits on either side of the dress that offered her mobility and showed quite a bit of her muscular thighs. Her ebony hair was in an up bun with a few wispy bangs framing her face. She was quite beautiful in an exotic way, her slit iris and unusual eye color only adding to her peculiar charm.

I continued to scramble. “You said we had until Friday. Why do you even think I even have them?

She smiled at me in a way that made my blood run cold. Her forked tongue flickered out of her mouth as she wrapped her long fingers purposely around my neck. I grasped at her arm, but it was like trying to bend an iron bar. She casually picked me off the ground by my throat and stood from her squat, lifting my two hundred and thirty plus pounds into the air. My feet dangled several inches of the ground and I flailed at her arm which was now a mass of corded muscles and ropey veins. Despite my precarious situation, Zhang wasn’t putting much pressure directly against my esophagus. I could breathe, and talk, for now.

“Okay, okay,” I stopped struggling. “I’ll hand them over. They’re yours anyway. We were coming by tomorrow, to return them.”

Zhang set me down near a high top table and chairs I keep near my bar. I sat down with my arms hunched over, breathing hard. “There’s a black plastic box in the trunk of my agency car. The Eye, Gem and hat are inside.”

“Excellent,” she hissed.

I sat back and rubbed at my throat. “Does Palmerson know you are here? He didn’t seem wild about making waves with the Agency.”

Zhang’s eyes flashed dangerously. “That man is a fool and our agreement is only binding as long as it pleases me.” The soft sounds in ‘pleases’ all ran together in one long S.

I shrugged my shoulders trying to compose myself. “OK. So how do you want to do this? You want me to go get them, or give you the keys, or what?”

She considered a moment, then curled her palm upward. Her fingers were overly long and her nails resembled talons. Then her hand erupted in crimson light and she appeared to me holding molten lava in her hand. I could feel the heat radiating off of it and I began to bead perspiration. “You will retrieve the case and give it to me. If you try anything, I will burn you to the ground where you stand.”

I nodded holding my hands up and slowly started moving toward the rack of keys near the front door. “Does that mean you aren’t going to kill me?”

Zhang followed closely behind me and hissed out a snakey laugh. “I haven’t decided yet. It would anger Cole, which brings me pleasure. But, you have done nothing to deserve death and were ahead of the deadline.”

“Well, that sounds promising.” I grabbed my keys and slowly started heading to the garage door. “When we got your relics from the Farfalla, she told us they were stolen before arriving at the Reliable Reliquary.” I left out the part about Chief Northcutt, but I wanted to gauge her reaction.

“It matters not. Once something passes through my doors it becomes part of my horde. If I encounter that bitch, I will end her. No one steals from me.” She was quiet for a moment. “You spoke with her? Did you not arrest her? Or kill her?”

“No,” I stated matter of factly. “She got away. She’s a slippery one.” I thought of her kissing me unconscious as we passed into the garage. I looked over my shoulder. “I am gonna open the trunk. There are guns inside, please don’t torch me.” The heat from her lava was raising the ambient temperature and I was beginning to sweat profusely. I stopped a few feet from the car and pressed the automatic release on my key fob. The trunk to the Wildcat popped open and my red and blue flashers mounted on the top of the trunk door illuminated the garage.

I turned sideways with my hands raised. “Do you want me to grab it?”

“Yes,” she hissed, “but if you try anything…”

“...you’ll vaporize me. Yeah, you mentioned that. How are we doing on the whole ‘me living through this’ thing? I am cooperating,” I pointed out. I started on the mental calculus. I wasn’t sure if the fireball she had in her palm would really burn me. It was probably made of magic and I could shrug it off. I was sure that she could pull my head off and throw my body through the garage door. I didn’t want to fight Zhang, but I also didn’t want to die. Grabbing my rifle or coach gun out of my trunk was my last real chance of resistance. I figured I was fast enough to get at least one shot off before she pulled my arm off and beat me to death with it, but I wasn’t sure if the silver bullets currently loaded in my weapons would even hurt her.

“I will let you live,” Zhang said, “if for no other reason than I find your fear and your sweaty body, simulating.” She placed a hand on the back of my neck and dragged a clawed finger down the middle. She smiled as I squirmed in discomfort and her tongue flicked out and wiggled grotesquely. “Now grab the case and close the trunk.”

I stepped forward out of her grasp to do as she asked. Last chance. I closed my eyes and decided to roll the dice on cooperation. She had no real reason to kill me if she got what she wanted, and it was unlikely that I would survive the confrontation if I pulled a weapon. I reached into the trunk and grabbed the case by the handle. The blue and red flashers continued. The crimson light from Zhang’s hand reminded me of a road flare and I imagined myself back as a deputy working a nighttime traffic crash. The flares in my memory smelled heavily of sulfur and I realized that I didn’t smell anything here in my garage beyond my own BO. I was going to need another shower if I survived the next five minutes. The lack of a sulfur smell solidified my belief that her lava was magic based and that I could survive her initial salvo. I eyed my double-barrelled shotgun laying on top of its case. We were close enough that it would be devastating.

“Don’t Agent. I only want my relics.” Her tone was different, not as hostile as before. There was a pleading edge to it. Had the rest been posturing? My other hand slowly raised up, cautiously inched by my shotgun, and came to rest on the trunk lid. I slowly closed it and took a deep breath. I then turned to face Zhang and face her mercy or wrath.

To my surprise, her face revealed a pleasant smile. Her eyes were focused on the case. She snapped her fingers and the java fireball disappeared. “My treasure,” she hissed happily. It was almost a purring sound.

I extended my arm out and offered the case to her. “Normally, I’d have you sign a receipt. But I think we can skip that step.”

She took the case from me and clutched it against her chest like a child hugging a teddy bear. I followed her back inside.

“Aren’t you going to check to make sure they are in there?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“No, I can feel their presence.” She said 'presence' with way more Ss than I thought were in there. She stepped forward and cupped my cheek where she had hit me. Her talons were gone and her fingers were the normal length. It was like a weight had been lifted off the room.

“I am sorry I was such a bitch,” the English lilt was creeping back into her voice. “I get so cranky when people take my things.” Her tone was imperious, but I could swear I saw a little pout to her lip. “You should come by sometime and I can give you a private tour of my vault.”

It was such a classic British double entendre, that I was genuinely confused. The thought of that forked tongue coming anywhere near me made me shiver and a little curious. Her face revealed nothing but regret. For hitting me, I supposed. She had hit me quite a bit. Zhang crossed my living room to the front door and paused just as Alicia had. She looked back and offered a sly smile. "You're a brave man. Smart enough to fear, but strong enough to control it. I hope to see you again. Zai jian, Agent Renshaw.” She disappeared into the night, leaving the door open.

I rushed over and slammed the door, not even looking to see where she had gone. I threw every lock on the door and there were quite a few. I walked into the dining room and grabbed the bottle of tequila, necking it. That was three times I had almost died. Fuck, when was I going to learn? I thought of our impending Coyote ambush. Probably not tomorrow, I thought, drinking again.

I put the bottle back in the bar and went into my bedroom. I skipped a second shower and just changed my shirt. I tumbled into bed and stared at the ceiling. My mind was racing, but I needed sleep. I cleared my thoughts and did combat breathing to steady my heart rate. In, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Repeat. I could feel the tension leaving my body. In, hold, out, hold. My blood pressure dropped. In. Out.

I pushed my way through the batwing doors. The piano player banged out an upbeat rhythm as I crossed to the bar and threw back the shot as soon as it was placed before me. Dad was there, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t look at me. So, we sat there and drank together. Every time I drained my glass, the bartender hustled over to refill it. We went on like this, the only sounds were the piano and the occasional sipping noise. The whisky was terrible, especially after my top-shelf tequila, but it became more and more tolerable. It was relaxing, but I’d had enough. I reached into my pocket looking for dream money to tip the bartender. I found none, so I stood.

“Wait.” A hand grasped me on my shoulder, preventing me from rising.

I turned to face my father, who was finally ready to talk. I found myself staring into the cowled visage of the Sleeper.

I woke up screaming.