They drove through the little islands of moth-eaten light that sprang from the poles and posts along the streets then the highway. Even in those patches of illumination, black bars slid across the interior of the scared vehicle bending over the features of the driving Scrapper and her accomplice the beautiful Dancer. The two talked about someone being thrown out a window and real faces. It was hard to hear over the roar of the wet wind and the rumble of truck traffic.<br/><br/>Jonah leaned over to let some of the rain dashing into their car hit him in the face and hands. It didn’t feel hot or cold, just wet but wet was good enough. Cupping his hands, he rubbed his face into them trying to use the rain to clean off his horror show mouth. The pistol whipping left only a vague memory of the impact. With a finger, he probed in and around his teeth and gums locating an additional chunk of windshield glass but finding all of his teeth in place.<br/><br/>When he straightened up, the Scrapper had pulled away the grinning skull mask to reveal lovely full lips and a sculpted chin to match her black shoulder length hair. She really was a looker and not of the street variety. She was a girlfriend looker, a high-end fiancé looker. Not arm candy, no, but honest and direct. Jonah mentally traced the almond shape of her eyes and memorized her profile from habit.<br/><br/>The Dancer was also talking under the noise of the highway. Her eyes were powerful, deep but not like holes. Her eyes were like flowers; their color drew him in, beckoned to him. Between streetlights, when the shadow shuttered across her features he wanted those eyes back, those beautiful violet eyes.<br/><br/>Then the flicker of a streetlight slowly rolled across her porcelain features again…<br/><br/>…and her beautiful face runs back with tiny diamond chip scales that slide around warm glowing purple eyes. The slopes of her face wash upward toward a flowing hairline that swims with snakes thin and large. His reflection lives in the glittering jaws of each diamond scale and all the snakes have those shining chips for eyes. If he looks just a moment longer, he will be trapped, bound to the opium of her image, lost in the deep pool of her beauty.<br/><br/>Jonah looked away from the Dancer quickly suddenly aware of her danger. It seemed he was nowhere near out of trouble. Her face shifted back in the next drift of light but Jonah did not look back, but he sure did want to<br/><br/>Time to figure out if this was the frying pan or the fire.<br/><br/>“I guess I need to thank you ladies for coming to my rescue. Since we are playing rabbit in part of a crime scene I think it is safe to assume neither of you are cops?” he said speaking up over the rain and wind.<br/><br/>