The streetcar rattles and moans as it makes it way along King St. W. over to Bathurst St. before making its long way back uptown from the old warehouse district. By turning up Bathurst the tracks avoid the areas where gentrification reaches. West of Bathurst the street remains home to the old and rundown, buildings and people. 

Looking out the window beside Steph she can see plenty of examples of both. Old men and women shuffling along coming from wherever to whatever awaits them at home. Scurrying around them are the rats of the day; the drug dealers and their prey. It’s a depressing sight. She still feels tired from the forced healing Boneman put her through, and the street scene isn’t doing anything to make her feel better. Turning away from the window she leans her head back on Steph’s shoulder.

And just as quickly pulls it back when he winces after the spiked ends of her Mohawk stab him in the ear. Their snorts of laughter draw a couple of looks from their fellow passengers, but in this part of town nobody looks too closely at anybody else. It will only be when they make the turn onto Bathurst they’ll start to attract attention. 

Step puts his arm around Janie’s shoulder, and carefully guides her back onto his, keeping his eyes and ears away safely away from her hair. He likes the feel of her against him, the way she snuggles into his shoulder. Riding in the pocket of safety provided by streetcar, the interior light keeping the dark of the night outside at bay, he feels himself start to relax for the first time since he walked out of the bar, Christ, was it really only a few hours ago?

He doesn’t wear a watch, so has no idea what time it is, but the lights are still on in the bars they pass, and now that they’re almost at Bathurst St. there are more people on the sidewalks. Right, it’s still Friday night and people are going out to or coming back from clubs. He knows of at least three speakeasies in this neighbourhood alone which are probably just opening their doors. They shift locations periodically, trying to stay ahead of the police, but they usually remain in the same neighbourhood. 

He feels strangely detached from the people beyond the window. He wonders how much it has to do with the events of the night, the woman beside him, and how much it has to do with the restlessness he was feeling in the bar, and in recent weeks. Could it have been simply boredom that caused him to follow Julian? No, it was more than that. Something deeper.

"Oi, where are you?" Janie is looking at him with a slightly bemused smile. "What’s going on in there?" She says, tapping his forehead with a surprisingly strong finger. If she keeps that up she’ll put a dent in his head he thinks. "Looks like deep thoughts."

"Maybe", he pauses before continuing, "I was just wondering why I had come after you and Julian. I mean I’m not what you’d call action man or anything. But I felt drawn to follow the two of you no matter how scared I was. Boredom can cause you to do strange shit, but I don’t think it would drag me out of that alley after seeing him rip those three to pieces. I didn’t even think about it - I just followed."

" Must have been my magnetic personality" she smiles up at him just as the streetcar turns the corner onto Bathurst St from King with a horrible screeching of rails on metal and a lurch which throws the two them together against the window of the car bringing them face to face. They hung there suspended for a moment lips almost touching and the car lurches again throwing them apart as it straightens onto the new tracks. 

"Must have been" he replies through a throat which seems to be somewhat constricted and almost falling out of the seat into the aisle with the suddenness of the lurch combined with her weight pushing against him. Clutching his arm to keep him upright Janie giggles really loudly, causing heads to turn to look at them again. Blushing furiously he regains his balance and feels her head fall against his shoulder - her body is shaking in not so silent laughter as she snorts through her nose and gasps through her mouth.

"You better not be wiping your nose on my sleeve" is all he can manage to whisper.  Trying to assume an expression of innocence on her face Janie looks up at him saying "Who me?" sending herself into another paroxysm of giggles. This time she leans helplessly against the window as tears of laughter trickle down her face. Brushing the backs of her hands across her face she leans forward and gives him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. "I’ll try to behave".

He can’t help but smile. The streetcar rolls on into the night with the two of them nestled in its relative safety. Outside the world might be a dangerous place, but right here and right now they are both content. They will have to leave their vehicle soon, and that will be the beginning of something else. 

As it climbs up from the former docklands of Toronto the street car is starting to fill with more people. Those who are finally heading home after their Friday after work drinking are mixed in with the ones who have yet to begin the serious business of intoxication and the few who are simply tired and looking to get home and be quiet.

The car comes to a stop for the lights at Queen St and Janie shivers. Steph is about to ask what that’s about when he realizes they are close to where the attack had taken place. He’s not quite sure what to say - what do you say to someone when they start to remember being almost beaten to death? It wasn’t something covered in his upbringing and not something he encountered on a regular basis.

"I can still feel - a residual of their presence in the area." she offers as an explanation. "Which is not exactly comforting. With their death there shouldn’t have been anything left behind to feel. Which means that whoever, or whatever, is after me, hasn’t given up. Thankfully our trail is confusing enough that they won’t know where we are now. The best they can hope to do is end up at Boneman’s place."

"Shit, I mean shouldn’t we be warning him?" Steph, "I mean those are pretty nasty things right and he might need to, I don’t know, hide or something?"

Janie laughs grimly, "I don’t think you need to worry about Boneman". Noticing Steph’s puzzled expression she elaborates. "He’s not what he appears to be. You wouldn’t have noticed, and I’m not sure how much Julian actually knows, but Boneman isn’t from this dimension either. He’s a demon lord and what you saw was his attempt at a human manifestation. Not very good really, not like me obviously," she smiles winningly, "but he obviously doesn’t mix much so doesn’t need to blend as well. Can’t really see him going out to the local bar for a quick drink now can you?"

Steph is still back on the words demon lord from another dimension and human manifestation. Janie looks at him and giggles again, "So that what it looks like when they say somebody’s jaw drops - always thought it was just a saying. Close your mouth silly boy, you don’t know what could fly in."

"It’s just the words demon lord and other dimension haven’t come up in casual conversation too often in my life, so forgive me if I’m a little stunned. I’m still trying to get my head around you being from another dimension - and what do you mean by your human manifestation. What do you look like when you’re at home?"

Steph is floundering and he knows it. He knew Janie wasn’t really human, but now there’s the possibility she might have horns or a tail or wings and be covered in scales when she’s not putting on this look. Okay, you’re just panicking now - just calm down. At least she’s still smiling at you and not pissed off - of course if she got pissed off she might be able to rip your head off.

"Ah the inevitable freak out when the guy realizes the girl isn’t what he thinks she is" Janie giggled again. "Don’t worry, unlike our buddy Boneman, I’m not too much different from what you see in front of you. Well, skin colour is a lot paler and maybe not quite as curvy," she says with a bit of a lascivious smile, "and the hair is definitely different - I did this special for the early 80s punk look."

Steph grins at the question implied with the last - "Don’t worry you and a mohawk work." He pauses, and looks down, a bit sheepish, "I’m sorry if I was rude or implied anything - I think I’m more freaked about what’s happened than I’m letting on. I was trying for the impressively cool guy thing, but I’ve never been that and faking it ain’t about to happen. Now Julian - he’s impressively cool - something to aspire to I guess."

She looks at him and smiles a small slightly twisted smile, "I don’t think Julian would be that interested in anybody aspiring to be like him. He’d want to know what the world would want with anymore 500 year old heroin addict werewolves." As he starts to protest she raises her hand to prevent him and continues. "No, it’s okay I knew what you meant. And thanks by the way, about the mohawk, I’m never quite sure what’s too much. Don’t worry about being anything other than you are, I quite like the person who I’ve been hanging out with the last little bit, and don’t sell yourself short either. Not many people would have followed Julian out of that alley - yes I know it was all about me - but still. Thank you."

She looks him in the eyes and smiles again. He thinks that if he’s not careful he’ll get lost in those eyes and that smile, and finds he doesn’t really care about being careful. He looks up, just to stop staring at her, cause if he doesn’t now he thinks he might never stop, and realizes their stop is next. 

"Shit, we’ve got to get off here". He leans over her and pulls the chord running above the window for the chime signifying a stop request and they hustle to the back door just as the car slams to a sudden stop for them. Grabbing a pole with one arm and Janie with other Steph uses the motion of the car’s stop to propel them down the stairs and out the waiting doors onto the sidewalk.

Next Chapter: Chapter 9