"Kitten," said Clyde, "Stop that."

Kitten had begun licking her hands again, and she paused. "But I'se dirty. I'se need to clean up."

"I doubt if his blood can be good for you. You don't know where he's been. There's a restroom just up the hall. Go there and wash up. You can even take a shower if you want to."

Kitten's eyes got big. "Outside? Really?" They hadn't been allowed out of their room yet.

"If you promise not to go off this hall. I'll trust you if you promise faithfully. You won't forget?"

"Uh-uh. Dr. Clyde, is it a girl potty?"

"I haven't looked under its tail." Kitten looked confused. "It can be used by anyone, but don't worry--no one is going to walk in on you." Clyde was studying the body. "I'm going to need to get rid of that."

Kitten stuck out one foot and prodded Landrue with her toe. "Whatcha gonna do wif him? Hide 'im under the bed?"

"Not a bad suggestion, but those things start to stink after a little while. No, he's got to be disposed of. Kitten, you know that Acacia told me that she'd never, to the best of her memory, eaten human flesh?"

"Uh-huh."

"I have some friends who can't say that."

"Oh." Kitten cocked her head, looking at Bill Landrue's body with a curious glint in her eyes. Then she quickly reached down, picked up his hand, leaned over, and sank her teeth into it. Clyde didn't say anything to her--he just watched. Kitten shook her head, and he could see the skin ripping. Then she spit out the hand and made a face. "Tastes nasty."

"I'm not at all surprised, but my friends haven't complained yet, and they've eaten people who were much nastier than him. Scoot, now."

"Okey-dokey." Kitten bounced up and scampered past Clyde, as if afraid he might change his mind.

Clyde leaned out the door and watched as Kitten slowed, studying the doors she passed. She paused outside one. It led into a room that Clyde knew housed an elderly woman who'd killed her husband, then tried to skin him with a shrimp peeler. Kitten opened the window in the door and peeked through. She yelped, then said in a scolding voice, "You put youse clothes on!" She was answered by a cackle, and she joined in, giggling before shutting the little window and continuing down to the restroom.

Once she was safely inside Clyde looked back at the body on the floor. "Well, Landrue--even in death you're an asshole and a bother. But you know, you're finally going to do some good in this world. You're a hefty son-of-a-bitch, so the Shazzers ought to be able to get at least a couple of dozen good meals out of you. I just wish you'd done this a little later--then it would be easier to get you to the kitchen for storage. Now, the question is--clothes hamper, or stretcher? Mmm... Hamper. If I used the stretcher I'd have to find some way of covering your head up. I could wrap it up in bandages, but if anyone spotted you they'd want an explination, since we don't currently have any patients with massive cranial and facial injuries." Clyde pointed at him. "Don't go anywhere."

There was a clothes hamper in the linen closet at the other end of the hall. It was empty (the service staff was very conscientious). Clyde dumped some sheets and towels in, then wheeled it back to the room. He dumped the linens on the bed, thought for a moment, then put a folded sheet in the bottom of the hamper. Landrue had bled, after all, and he wanted to avoid stains as much as possible. Not that a blood smear here or there was likely to be remarked, since the entire housekeeping staff was composed of vampires or thralls, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Clyde then hefted Landrue's body up into the hamper. He had to bend him pretty sharply to get him all the way in, with nothing sticking over the top. He ended up having to dislocate one of Landrue's shoulders so he could shove an arm down, and he swore lustily, lamenting that you never had a butcher knife or cleaver when you needed one. Finally he arranged the lines on top, making several layers, patting and bunching them carefully.

Finally he took out his walky-talky and thumbed the send button to call the security guard who was on duty in the front part of the asylum. "Tobias."

There was a brief crackle, then a voice said, "Yes, sir?"

"I'm in the violent wing. How's the family fixed for supplies?"

When the man spoke again there was lively interest in his voice. "Pickings haven't been too bad lately, but a little more is always appreciated."

"Well, Christmas has come early. Get it out discreetly and it's yours."

"Yes, sir! That'll work out just fine. I drove the van to work tonight. Is it okay to park it in the cafeteria cooler till my shift ends?"

"Tell you what--take off an hour early. I trust you to bag it up, but if any of the kitchen crew see you walking out with a garbage bag they're likely to think that you're making off with the stock."

"Thanks! Doc, are you sure that you won't let my wife fix something for you from this one? She makes a mincemeat pie that's out of this world."

"Thanks, Tobias, but I wouldn't think of taking any--not when you have so many mouths to feed." Ghouls were probably the most human of supernatural beings. They could live a life indistinguishable from a human except for two things--they lived much, much longer, and they had to consume human flesh on a regular basis. Most ghouls prefered to obtain their food from mortuaries, cemetaries, and the scenes of accidents. They didn't kill, mainly because killing attracted attention. A short spell without their special provisions would cause symptoms similar to a junkie going cold turkey. A ghoul would fall away and die if the abstinance continued, but there had been very few ghouls to ever die from intentionally avoiding their natural diet. Before it got to that point their bestial nature would take over. It didn't happen often, but when it did, it made headlines. "It's in a laundry hamper. I'm going to park it by the supply room, and you can pick it up there. I appreciate this."

"Oh, stop it! Like you aren't doing me a favor." As an afterthought he said, "Is it anyone I know?"

"Landrue."

"Huh."

"You don't sound surprised."

"Surprised? The only thing that surprises me is that he lasted this long. I know he's been harrassing Joel, and I figured you'd off him a long time ago. I'm surprised at your self control."

"Help is hard to find these days. Didn't you say you had a cousin who was about to get out of the military, and would be looking for a job?"

"Yeah. Tech would love to work here. You know, he's had it fairly easy. Foraging in a war zone isn't all that difficult, but you don't just find fresh corpses laying around in the states."

"Except on some gang turfs. I'm going to deposit it now."

"Be right over. Thanks again."

"De nada." Clyde put away the walkie-talkie and wheeled the cart out into the hall. The door to the restroom opened and Kitten came out. "Well, that was a quick wash," said Clyde. He crooked a finger at the girl, and she came over. He scanned her quickly. She did appear to have washed. Her hair was sticking up in damp tufts, and her clothes were clinging to still moist skin. "Kitten, are you SURE that you showered?" She nodded. "It hardly seems like you could have gotten clean so quickly. Let me see your hands." She held them up, fingers spread, palms to him. "Other way." She turned her hands around. He tsked. "You still have blood under your nails, Kitten. We can't have that."

She put her hands on her hips, frowning. "Youse said not to lick."

"I can get you a file and..." He hesitated. "Stick out your tongue." Kitten giggled, then did so. He peered closely, then smiled. "Sandpaper. If any of you girls ever have a boyfriend, he may be in for a bit of a surprise the first time you French kiss. Yes, I suppose your method will be more thorough. Now, then. There's a bit of a mess in your room. I'll have to get Marta to clean it up--she's one of our special won't tell a soul employees. There's a vacant room next to Joel's. Why don't you sleep there tonight? If you like it, and your sisters like it, perhaps you can move in."

Kitten bounced. "You mean live wif everyone else?"

"Yes. There's a nicer bed. You can decorate the room as you like, and the door will stay unlocked unless things really get hairy." He leaned over and whispered, "And we won't tell anyone, but I'll give you a key so that you can lock the door on nights when you're going to have your change."

"Can I bring my Barbie?"

"Of course you can! But only that. We'll get the rest of you girls' things tomorrow."

"Goody!" She skipped back to the room.

*Amazing. She killed a man not twenty minutes ago, and she might have just finished watching cartoons. I think Joel will like having her for a neighbor.*

Kitten came back with her Barbie tucked securely in the crook of one arm, carrying Barbie's clothes case in the other. When she saw Clyde eyeing it she said defensively, "Barbie needs her clothes."

"Would I deny a lady her wardrobe? Stay with me, Kitten. Don't wander off. It's not that I think you can't take care of yourself. It's just that some of the inmates don't always react well to new faces, and I'm already having to dispose of one body tonight."

Kitten tagged along at his heels, head swiveling constantly to take in every detail. The girls had been catatonic when they were brought in, so none of them had seen the asylum outside their own room. At the cross hall Clyde paused and turned to Kitten. "I'm going to take you down the hall and introduce you to a very nice lady named Louise. She's going to take you to Joel and you can stay with him for a few minutes. Then I'll take you to your room."

"You not gonna come wif me?" she sounded doubtful.

Clyde leaned down. If she'd been the child that she thought she was, Clyde would have squatted to be on her level. Since he was tall and she wasn't, he still had to lean down a good bit. "Kitten," he whispered, "I need your help. You see, you're going to be a distraction."

"Traction?"

"That means that you're going to keep Louise busy while I sneak the late Landrue across the hall. She probably wouldn't question why I was driving a laundry cart in the middle of the night--I tend to do eccentric things--but it's better safe than sorry. Louise is one of the good ones, and I'd be very sorry if I had to hand her over to the Shazzers for Sunday dinner."

Kitten nodded wisely, then smiled. "I can be sneaky."

Clyde pinched her cheek gently. "Of course you can, dear girl. You're a cat--it's your birthright."

Clyde left the cart where it was and led Kitten around the corner and down to the nurse's station. Louise had been watching the corner anxiously. Whne Clyde appeared, obviously unharmed and unflustered, she relaxed a little. But when she was the girl walking with him her expression sparked with curiosity. As they arrived Clyde said, "Nothing to worry about, Louise. I'm afraid that Landrue was being unprofessional," he laid a hand on Kitten's shoulder, "with Miss Bahste. He's been thoroughly chastised and given the sack."

"About time," said Louise. "That man should never have been working with people." She looked at Kitten, concerned. "Are you all right, honey?" Louise could see bruise smudges marring the white skin of the girl's arms, and there was a darkening swelling on one high cheekbone. "That so-and-so didn't hurt you, did he?"

Kitten giggled. "Nooo." She was studying Louise. Finally she reached out and stroked the woman's forearm with one finger. "You gots pretty skin."

Louise was about the color of a Hershey bar. Puzzled, she said, "Thank you."

"Let's just say," said Clyde, "that her previous life had been lacking in ethnic diversity."

"Oh." Louise understood that. There were a lot of white children living in suburban and rural areas who didn't see black people until they were taken to a larger city.

"I'se that color, too. My points."

Louise blinked, then looked at Clyde questioningly. Louise had known Caucasians who might have passed for colored, but Kathleen Bahste was nowhere near that--not with her streaked blonde hair and blue eyes. Clyde shrugged, giving Louise a 'humor her' look. "Points?"

"Yuh. You know--arms an' legs' and tail an' ears an' mask."

"Oh!" Understanding dawned. "You mean like a Siamese cat."

"Uh-huh. My daddy was a seal point, an' I'se a chocolate point."

"You think you're a cat."

Kitten gave her a 'duh' look. "Not now."

"Louise, I have a thing or two to take care of. Would you take Kitten to Joel and ask him to watch her for a while? I won't be long," said Clyde.

"Are you sure about that?" said Louise doubtfully. Clyde gave her a look, and she said hastily, "You're the doctor, but she IS just coming off the violent ward, and you know how Joel is."

"Oh, don't worry about it, Louise. Kitten and Joel understand each other." Clyde waited till Louise had led Kitten around the corner into another hall, then he turned and sprinted back to the laundry cart, moving so fast that he was almost a blur. He had the cart safely across the hall, then through another set of doors in a flash.

There was a short, thin man in a security guard uniform waiting outside the supply room when he rolled up. "Hello, Tobias. My, you're looking prosperous."

Tobias grinned and patted his flat as a board belly. "Monica has been feeding me good. They had a double burial in the cemetary a mile from our house just last week. Car accident. Nice and fresh, and already tenderized." Ghouls were naturally thin--you never saw a fat ghoul. Bloated, perhaps, if they'd been foolish enough to gorge, but not fat. It just burned off. If they didn't eat well they wasted away quickly till they seemed almost skeletal. A ghoul who couldn't find a steady sorce of human carrion tended to look like someone freshly released from a concentration camp.

"Fortune sometimes smiles. And is that a tan? Been to the beach on your holiday?"

Tobias rolled his eyes. "You can't leave it alone, can you? I wish I could tan. I get sick of assuring the humans that I'm not aneamic."

Ghouls didn't tan, even if they tried to sunbathe. Luckily they didn't burn, either, or some of the young ones who wanted to conform to the human view of attractiveness would have ended up looking like boiled lobsters. "I understand they have fake tan you can put on like make-up now."

"My brother-in-law tried that--once. He ended up orange. Looked like a sweet potato. No, I'll just have to blame it on working nights. It's easier for Monica and my girls--they can wear make-up. People would look at me funny if I did that."

Clyde shrugged. "Maybe some day men wearing make-up won't seem quite so strange."

Tobias laughed. "Right, doc. Pull the other one." He pointed at the cart. "This, I take it, is the groceries? Can I have a peek?"

"What--you're going to turn it down if the flesh isn't properly marbled? You know what Landrue looked like. Still..." Clyde gave the cart a little push toward him. "Help yourself."

Tobias pawed aside the sheets and gave the body a quick, sharp assessment. "Strangled? You mean that you didn't drain him?"

"No, I've eaten well lately, and I don't like to be a glutton. Anyway, I didn't kill him."

"No?" That surprised Tobias a little. "I didn't think that any more of ours were working tonight in this section."

"They're not. This was done by a patient on the violent ward."

"I see. It isn't that I'm not grateful, but I'm a little surprised that you didn't just report it and hand the body over to the authorities. There's less chance of a mess that way, since they don't hold the violents responsible for their acts. Who was it? Pooh?"

"No, Pooh would have really messed him up. This was done by a sweet little girl called Kitten. Landrue was apparently getting ready to molest her, and she took exception."

"Well, good for her! But I didn't think we had any children here."

"We don't--physically. Emotionally is another story. Kitten if chronologically about seventeen."

"Still, even a strong seventeen year old girl... Landrue wasn't exactly wimpy."

"She's a lycanthrope--a werecat."

Tobias' eyes widened. "Really?"

"Would I lie?"

"Sure you would."

"You're right, but I'm not lying in this case. She's the first werecat I've ever run into, and I like her enormously. Must be the feline thing, because I really don't have any use for the canines. Anyway, I'm releasing her into the general population."

Tobias grinned. "Just like you. She kills someone, so that earns her a pass off the violent ward." He scraped the sheets back over the body, then took hold of the cart handle. "I'd better get this wrapped up and in the meat locker. Monica is going to be thrilled. Her grandma just passed on a hand written copy of the family cookbook, and there are a ton of recipes she wants to try." He wheeled the cart away, whistling jauntily.

Clyde didn't wait to see him disappear down the corridor leading to the kitchen. He had absolute faith in Tobias' discretion. Keeping things quiet was as much to the ghoul's advantage as it was the vampire's. Neither wanted to imperil a relationship that worked well for them both.

Louise was back at her station when Clyde arrived. She smiled at him. "I sure didn't need to be worried. Those two get on just like kindergarten best friends. When I left they were talking about playing hide and seek. I told 'em they shouldn't leave the room, and they looked at each other and said that wouldn't be a problem. Then to prove it the little girl wiggled under the bed, and Joel hid in the closet."

"Wonderful. Unless something unforseen happens, Kitten is going to remain in the general area from now on. I'll be speaking with the rest of the staff at tomorrow's meeting, but I ought to warn you now. Don't be surprised if she's very different from one day to the next. Hell, from one minute to the next. She's a multiple personality."

Louise sat back. "Get out of town!"

"She has at least," Clyde squinted at the ceiling, "The sisters and Kitten, then Kathleen... I'd say five, but a couple of them are unlikely to make themselves known. I don't think you'll have any problem with them, though."

"She's just like Joanne Woodward in that movie?"

"More complex, I think." He frowned. "They had to have simplified the hell out of that case for the movie. There's no way that sort of trauma could be caused just by being forced to kiss a dead relative. Now this girl has had good reason to get sick, and stay sick."