Tasìa waited for a response from Annebél. Not getting one, she finally spoke up.

"What?"

Annebél guffawed and then sighed.

"Come on," Tasìa pleaded, "it's cold. I froze my little tail off riding my bike here."

Annebél smiled.

"Avellana, do you have any idea how cute you look just now?"

Tasìa told her the truth earlier about her real name. Annebél rejected it, Tasìa? No. I'll never get used to that.

Tasìa grimaced as she clasped her hands against her own waist and responded to Annebél's remarks on her wardrobe.

"None. I wasn't going for cute."

Annebél stood to the side, and she let Tasìa through the door.

"If you were aiming for badass, you missed that exit," Annebél then burst out laughing. "The way your tush is just all squashed up, held under that bandanna. It's so . . . adorable."

Tash bent over, flapped up the makeshift skirt, and mooned her friend.

She didn't realize they had company.

Agu, Annebél's brother, sat in the middle of the living room floor. He watched Tasìa intently, not taking his eyes off of her.

He was lovestruck. Tasìa considered his reaction with a little pride. She didn't think her rump, as tiny as it was, had that kind of power over the hearts of men. Perhaps the sheer muscular firmness of her buns made up for their lack of ampleness.

Tasìa sat down in a chair by the kitchen island. She rubbed her arms as she considered the young man.

He had a handsome face, one very similar to his sister's. But his eyes offset any magnetism he may have had; they were dull in tone and his eyelids drooped.

"Oh," Annebél began, "I know that look."

Tasìa grinned as she looked back. "Agu is close to the same stage of development as I am, isn't he?"

Annebél put her elbows up on the island, and she leaned her cheek on her bald-up fist.

"Sexually, he is further along than you. His bladder and intestinal fortitude have not been a problem in over a year. The act of sex, itself, however, it is like he is learning for the first time every time.

"On an emotional level, he lives in his shell."

Agu fiddled with a VR set as he watched Tasìa. He lifted his head to join the conversation.

"Hey, I hear you two talking about me. Am I going to have sex with the pretty girl?"

Tasìa blushed. He called her pretty. It normally took some strategic application of make-up to get that kind of compliment out of a man.

Annebél yelled back.

"Some other time, Agu. Tonight is not a good night."

Tasìa looked at Annebél curiously. "So, you don't mind? I won't if things hit off well with Jún-Jún, but that has gotten complicated."

Annebél looked back at her brother then she regarded Tasìa once more.

"I think a little, temporary coupling with you in particular would help push him forward. So, no, I don't mind. I would need to be there though, at least initially, as to ensure he doesn't freak out."

Tasìa backtracked. The words tonight is not a good night mulled around in her head. Ever since her capacity for intimacy opened up - hell, she even kissed a guy a few hours earlier - Tasìa believed every night was a good night to explore her boundaries.

Then she noticed. There were three packed suitcases on top of the dryer in the hallway. A short legnth double-barrel shotgun leaned on a wall beside the dryer.

Where was Annebél's new guest, the kidnap victim?

Annebél leaned in to recapture Tasìa's attention.

"You don't think it is odd that I am Agu's sex coach, do you?"

Tasìa smiled at this question, disarmingly.

"I think your intentions in regards to your brother are one hundred percent good and pure. If you have to bend the norms from time to time and assist to help his fragmented self become whole, so be it. You do what is necessary."

Annebél clasped Tasìa in a tight hug. Held against the redhead's bosom, Tasìa felt a tear droplet land on her naked shoulder.

"Thank you, Avellana. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that."

"It's alright. I kind of think of you as my big, brawny sister, too."

Annebél grinned as she cleared her throat.

"Speaking of sisters. I heard you dined at Daga Chicas with a handsome man, earlier this afternoon."

Tasìa shook her head and muttered under her breath.

"Isabella. He was my contact with the Army."

Annebél's eyes rolled.

"I heard you disappeared with him into the bathroom. You had a wolfish grin from ear to ear on your face like you were going to eat him up as you dragged your helpless catch in there."

That reminded Tasìa. She needed to check to see if a virtual copy of León's PA was successfully transferred.

She shook her head, raised up dismissively.

"I had to vomit," Tasìa deflected.

Annebél giggled. She put one hand on Tasìa's shoulder, with the other she took her index finger and she stroked Tasìa's neck.

"I'm sure you did. The gag reflex. With that long, thin neck of yours, it's going to take some time and effort to get used to it."

Tasìa shook her head again, annoyed at Annebél's teasing tone.

"It's not like that."

Annebél pulled her head up against Tasìa's own.

"It's always like that. When we Harvested open up our boundaries we search for every opportunity. I know. I've been there, I'm still there, and I'm your coach. You can be straight with me. What happened?"

Tasìa sighed.

"I did take him back to the lavatory, hoping I could surpass my threshold and keep it all together. I thought I might be ready to experiencemouth the tactile sensation of having that in my mouth. Then he stood there, his body, muscle tone, so very nicely formed, and his appendage raised up in attention, my attention; it looked so, so very, very pretty.

"But . . . my stomach collapsed and then I started heaving. Hey, why are you laughing at me? You're supposed to be my coach, right?"

Annebél covered her mouth.

"So, sorry, Avellana, but the way you call it an appendage instead of a cock, it's adorable."

Tasìa made a smacking motion in the air as she regarded Annebél crosséd. There were those words again, 'cute', 'adorable', next, she is going to call me a little pixie.

"I'm very shy about sex," Tasìa insisted. "I have a filthy mouth about everything else, but that I still hold in some reverence. But you know something? Ever since I got a really good look at Bajamutté's . . . appendage, I have grown quite fond of them."

Annebél nearly rolled out of her seat as she laughed and coughed.

Tasìa relaxed her demeanor. She realized right away she couldn't take offense. It really was a funny way of putting it.

"Oh . . . Avellana. You are too much. Let me get us some drinks."

Tasìa perked up.

"Oh, that reminds me. I have a surprise for you. Let me go get us some drinks. I have something special for you. I'll be right back."

Tasìa exited the suite through the huge vault door and she returned to the lot. She noticed a group of people now gathered by the main building. Not unusual in itself, but for a well-polished Cadillac parked adjacent to the main building's walkway, Tasìa would not have given them a second glance.

Tasìa had left her Desert Eagle and Škorpion in the back saddlebag. That one had a lock on it. As for the .32, she carried it holstered inside her left boot.

It was the only place to hide anything in her current dugs.

The .32 semi-auto. It was her dad's concealed carry weapon of choice. Powerful enough to penetrate a skull and then cause hydrostatic damage while it rattled around inside and made mush of a brain.

Anything larger, like a 38 Special, was much more difficult to conceal. Given her solid and consistent aim with the .32, the lower firepower was a reasonable trade-off.

Tasìa regarded the tinted windows of the Cadillac.

Mobsters.

They were casing the lot and keeping an eye on the transients.

Annebél must have one hell of a story to tell. One that she was reluctant to indulge Tasìa. As soon as she saw Tasìa regarding her brother as a potential prospect, Annebél jumped on it, and she had not stopped talking about sex ever since.

Tasìa kept her motions casual as she returned to the motorcycle. She removed three things, the remaining pack of Canadian brew, the beer bottle full of vodka, and the original bottle that it came in. That, she kept wrapped in the damp, vodka-soaked rag she made from her T-shirt.

While engaged in a flurry of activity to appear distracted, Tasìa kept her eye on the Cadillac behind her through a mirror on the motorcycle. Someone got out of the back seat of the Cadillac. A fat man wearing a pink suit. He leaned up against the car. He was definitely watching her.

Shit. Tasìa didn't want any more drama that night. She realized that was why she did not force any issues with Annebél, but rambled on, along with her.

The man in the mirror was growing impatient. His red leather shoe covered toe tapped on the asphalt and his arms crossed together rigidly.

She had one means to signal to them to back the fuck off. Tasìa laid the three items down carefully on the seat of her Virago so she could easily scoop them back up in one arm.

She unlocked the back saddlebag, grabbed two magazines, stuck them down her French cut panties. Then she brought out the .50 Desert Eagle.

She held it pointing up to the sky. It got the mobster's attention. A lit cigarette swirled end over end from out of his mouth.

He definitely did not expect that in the hand of a little woman dressed like she was ready to shake her hips at a Carnevale parade.

Tasìa scooped up the three items. She turned around, acknowledged the man with a nod and a smile, then walked casually back into Annebél's suite.