The liquid rushes into my mouth and stays locked behind my teeth, unable to reach the esophagus and poison me from within. I hear James swallow, and he looks at me with his yellow eyes as he lets out a breath of refreshment. I simply make a humming "Mmm" noise, hoping that he would buy it and look away for a moment.
"I'd like to get to know you a little more personally, Cleo," His eyes glance upwards to the ceiling. "How about I show you a different room?" I take his glance as a chance to let the drink back into the cup.
"Please, lead the way."
He takes my hand and pulls me upstairs, and I can feel his pulse quickening through his fingers. He must be getting ready to make his move! We have drawn up many theories, but we'd forgotten the possibility of a serial killer. Stupid Troy forgot to mention a signal to use for non-verbal communications in case I need help! The upstairs level has many doors, but it's the one at the very end of the hallway that he throws open quickly and flicks a light switch on. A giant bed covers the center of the room, and nightstands surround it on each side, all supporting plenty of candles. He must do some sort of demonic ritual before killing off his victims.
"Pardon me for a moment," he tells me as he disappears into another door across the room, leaving me alone in his cynical site.
"Troy, I don't like where this is going!" I whisper into my earpiece.
"Okay, just relax and look around for anything out of the ordinary."
"I can't relax with that sneaky panther only a room away from me! I don't feel safe with this body, it's all fragile and hypersensitive!"
"I am pretty ticklish."
"Troy!"
"Okay, okay! I'll sneak into the house right now if it'll make you feel better, just stay put and look around the place."
I hear some crackling noises followed by some heavy thumping footsteps. Troy left the van, and the idiot left his comms behind too. I quickly dart my eyes around, landing them on many interesting objects. The first I inspect is some sort of modern piece of art that's resting on a small dresser. It's a minuscule statue of melted metal, it doesn't take the shape of anything familiar to me, just some cluttered junk. I circle around it, noticing that an arched piece of the base goes into the dresser itself. I touch it, feeling the way its designed structure resembles that of a hinge. I pull on it, the arch rising out of the dresser as the statue is pulled sideways. Just then, I hear a clicking sound on my right.
It's a subtle change, but I notice that a piece of the wall has popped out. I look back at the door the panther had disappeared behind, still undisturbed since he last went in. Cautiously, I approach the wall, gently placing the tips of my fingers on the edge of it, and pulling it open the rest of the way. Inside is a dim and metal room filled with strange apparatuses and sturdy vices. Chains are hanging from the ceiling as they sway back and forth from the new wind that I've let in. I take a closer look, stepping inside the room to the machines.
I can tell that one is obviously a table equipped with powerful restraints on each corner. The chains, I now realize, are medieval shackles that were once used in dungeons. Another one looks like a weapon rack, and it is filled with whips and branding burners. That sadistic psycho has one hell of a torture method! I have to get out of this room before my imagination takes hold of me. I step out and quietly close the door just in time for James to exit from his door wearing a dark bathrobe.
"Hello there, love," he says while slowly walking towards the small dresser. "You wanted to know more about me? I'll show you what I'm all about." His hand grasps around the statue, pulling it again and letting the wall open behind me. I jump at the sound of the familiar clicking. His intimidating frame now gliding towards me. "The things I'm going to do to you..."
I could feel my heart rate quicken. "And—and just what is it that you do?"
The strong features of his face twist into a wicked smile. "I devour raw meat." I think back to the Willow Society and their cannibalistic nature, remembering how much of a gruesome experience it was to find out they've been eating their own kind.
I break character and use my normal voice. "Stay back!"
James' face loses its menacing grin, replaced with a look of utter shock. He stands still in his tracks, one foot arched for another step, the other flat on the ground. Just then, a huge grey dog bursts through the bedroom door, landing flat on his face from the inexperience of breaching. As he gets back on his feet, he draws his gun and points it at the confused panther, whose eyes look as if they are going to pop out of his head if they get any bigger.
"Easy there, Caruso. Your fun stops here," Troy says, a smug smile present across his face.
"Caruso!? Who's Caruso!? I'm James!" cries the panther.
"It's just something to say when--never mind," Troy huffs at his failed attempt to sound cool.
"This is the worst robbery I've ever seen," screams James before quickly replanting his feet and delivering an elegant windmill kick. He lets out a small "meow" as his bare foot makes contact with the metal gun, sending it flying out of Troy's grasp. A little surprised at the sudden attack, Troy can't keep up as James throws another kick to his stomach, pushing him back and sending him to the floor. The panther bolts for the door, and I race for it too, hoping that I would be able to subdue him somehow.
I beat him to the doorway, "Stop right there, don't move!" He promptly runs over me with ease. He speeds down the stairs, most likely heading for the front door to retreat. "Troy, jump out the window!"
He sits up with a jolt. "What!? We're on the second floor!"
"Just do it! Use your shoulder to break the glass, and don't forget to roll when you hit the ground."
He gives me an uneasy stare before getting up and sprinting at the window that is above the bed. He jumps far, clearing the whole bed frame and slamming into the glass. It shatters easily, and he plummets down to the yard. I decide the best way to follow him is to chase after James through the house, and so I do, removing the high heels first.
*** *** ***
Troy's P.O.V.
I drop quickly from the window to the grass, landing on my side and rolling along in pain. I'm more than sure now that Clyde meant to roll after landing on your feet. Luckily, the muscle mass is almost like a protective layer of cushion, softening the fall by just a small factor. I push against the floor, raising myself up steadily as I hear the front door slam open.
The panther races down the pavement with some serious speed. He spots me on the ground, and picks up his pace towards the gate, completely disregarding his car. He must not have a spare set of keys in that bathrobe of his. I clumsily get up, feeling around my belt for the taser I was planning on using. I take it out of its holster, getting closer to the panther and shooting its smart-seekers at him. He spasms out and collapses quickly, and I waste no time in securing him in cuffs. It's then that Clyde catches up with us, his wardrobe still perfectly intact despite the missing shoes.
"Well, that could've gone better," I say.
"No kidding," he says, taking out the earpiece he has on.
*** *** ***
The panther rests on his own leather sofa, his hands and feet firmly secured with the cuffs. He wiggles around, furiously sliding all over the cushions and falling off repeatedly. I'm getting tired of picking him up off the floor and eventually just let him stay down there. Clyde already changed out of the mission clothes, immediately feeling more comfortable to be wearing something appropriate. He stands above James, who continues to splash around and give quick glances to us.
"Where are the other girls?" Clyde asks.
"What are you talking about!? Who are you people!?" James cries under the weight of my foot.
"C'mon, I think we've moved past the 'I'm Innocent' part of the puzzle. That was advanced Tae Kwon Do you just did on my partner, where did you learn that?"
"What!? I've been taking those classes all my life! It was just a hobby until you two showed up!" he claims.
"Uh-huh," I say, "what about this house? You've got to be cutting through the system to make bank like this."
"It was an inheritance from my dad! I'm a journalist on modern cultures." Now that I think about it, that would explain the bookcase's contents and the desk full of blank papers and pencils I saw through Clyde's camera feed. "I don't even make that much money, I just have some help with the bills."
I see Clyde getting a worried face as he asks, "Wh-what about the torture room behind the wall, and all that talk about eating raw meat?"
The panther's eyes stick to the floor. "Do I really have to explain that? I thought I was going to get some tonight. Why were you pretending to be a girl?" His cheeks burn a red hot blush, and his lip begins to quiver. I think we may have hit a major mistake in the plan. Clyde still has a face of confusion, but after a moment, I think it finally clicks to him as his mouth drops open.
Clyde rubs the back of his head sheepishly. "Oh, I see. It was just...bedroom talk." Clyde looks at me, a face full of seriousness. "Wipe his memory and clear out of here. This night never happened, okay?" I nod in agreement. "Good."
"Wipe the memory? You can't wipe memories, that's not a real thing!" exclaims the panther. I have to inject him with the barbiturates tranquilizer before I can set him up to the machine in the van to scramble up his brain cells. The last three hours of his night will be a blank spot when he wakes up on his couch.
*** *** ***
McAllen, Texas: Hearth & Barker Residency
"On the bright side, at least you got a nice date out of it," I tell Clyde.
"Screw you, Troy, I've never been treated like that ever in my entire life, " he says angrily, sitting down on the couch and turning the tv on.
"So we got a little setback, it happens."
"Yeah, we're also still stuck with these bodies, and God knows we're not made to do each other's jobs."
"I really didn't have that hard of a time using yours."
He laughs sarcastically. "Yeah right, I would never have been phased by that windmill kick like you did!"
"Oh please, we're not going to have a 'who's the better Clyde' competition. Relax, we'll get back on the case tomorrow."
He lets out a sigh. "What about Marston? He's gonna want a progress report on the case tonight."
"I'll call him right now, I know how to articulate in our favor."
"Yeah, you do that," He cracks open a beer from his mini-fridge and gets lost in his cartoons as I leave him alone to make a phone call. As I sit on the side of my bed, I wish that just once, we could get an easy mission. The phone rings twice before a voice on the other side picks up.
"Agent Hearth?"
"Hey there, Teddy. Can I get a word in with Mr. Marston?"