Tahlia Hayes

“Thank you, Detective.” Both hands remained in the air as she slowly turned her back and walked toward the wall. Talia kept her head turned slightly, watching Huxley in the edge of her vision as she spoke. “My name is Talia Hayes, I own Noire up near the strip?” She rested her hands against the cool rough bricks at either side of her head and looked across to Huxley watching the officers expression to see if she had heard of it. “One of my girls came in tonight upset by something she thought she saw out here. I offered to check on things… not my brightest idea.” Everything she said was at least partly true and spoken in a friendly conversational tone, presumably feeling safer now that she knew she was with an officer.

“And neither do you if that’s blood you’re stepping in,” Huxley said calmly, poised and ready to shoot, even though they were at a bit of a stand off. Her eyes strained for the details from the feminine voice, a tall form taking shape at least, but it wasn’t good enough. “Las Vegas Metropolitan Police,” she lied in introduction, “step out into the light with your hands surrendered.”

She was not tall, no more that 5’6 with two of those inches gifted by ruined leather boots, and sylph-like. Talia did not look the part of predator and she played that to her advantage as they shifted together, never moving closer than the other moved away, following Huxley’s lead until they were both in the growing light from the street.

Coming up on the first dumpster she’d thought she had heard a noise from, she paused as the pool of dark liquid became visible upon the concrete. It was thick, and it still seemed fresh or disrupted at least. But before she inspected what it could have been, she needed to clear the corner she couldn’t see - the other side of the dumpster.

A slow breath brought in the natural feminine fragrance of the woman lingering just out of sight. No single female would be dumb enough to explore the dark alleys of Vegas alone. Unless… ‘she’s a fucking cop.’ Talia thought. Still crouched low over the slowing pool of blood, Talia was motionless. Her body was tense with energy waiting to be released, like a cat just before the pounce.

The world sped by with its only sounds being the rumble of her motorcycle and the whisper of her thoughts. Streetlights pulsed, steadily growing just to blink out of existence - flash -- flash --- flash --- as the hazy glow of the Vegas Strip faded away in the distance behind her the buildings steadily regressed to poorly lit warehouses and office buildings. This was not where Talia wanted to be, though it seemed she would be given little choice in the matter. Feral attacks were becoming prominent news these days; someone or something was growing careless, even leaving witnesses… and Talia did not enjoy having to compel her own people on others behalf.

Heeled boots hit the ground as the kickstand was knocked into place under her bike. Its clean white paint was a stark contrast to the black fitted riding pants and jacket. Utility beat fashion tonight and both hands ran over the supple leather and across the the twin Beretta Nano’s tucked away at the small of her back, ensuring their access before she turned to contemplate the multitude of a darkened alleys that stretched before her.

Dark, quiet, the district was all but abandoned for the evening. The emptiness a bit unnerving in what should be a busy city. The only sign of life was the rustlings of the homeless hidden among the shadows and the unclean odor that lingered around them. But there was something more, the distinct scent of blood caught the air. With the elevated grace of a wild cat stalking its prey, Talia strode down the alley, hoping to arrive before the attacker had lost interest. A single story brick wall blocked her path to the growing aroma... It was too much blood, she was too late and she knew it even as she pushed off the wall with one foot to jump onto the dumpsters lid. Metal banged against metal and scraped against brick as she landed and lept again to vault the wall.