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s she slumped down； shuddered once and lay still。 Somewhere far away an owl was hooting。
Less than half a mile from where Shanda lay dead in a pool
of her own blood； Stella Lowe had just begun her night's soliciting。 Tall and slim； in her early thirties； with long peroxide hair falling well below her shoulders； she stood in the doorway of a boarded…up shop。 Here there was intermittent street lighting； lamps that had failed and not been repaired because nobody plained； nobody cared。 Within a couple of years all these streets would have been demolished to make way for a new council estate； a modern slum would replace the old one。
Stella lit a cigarette； tossed the empty packet out into the street。 She felt lethargic； didn't care if nobody came along。 Mostly her customers were drunks from the 'Tavern'； guys who couldn't manage what they thought their bodies cried out for； and then they got angry and blamed her for it。 Christ； what did they expect for three quid in an empty house； a fiver if she took them back to her own room； but lately she was wary of taking men home。 She'd been done twice for soliciting and she didn't want the law watching her place。
'Jesus Christ； you made me jump！' She almost dropped the cigarette； caught it just in time and stared at the big man who had approached unheard； his plimsolled feet bringing him within a yard of her before she was aware of his presence。 She drew hard on her cigarette； tried to recognise the face that was half bathed in shadow。 It wasn't one of her regulars； that was a sure fact。 Dark haired； the features running to fat as they passed the mid…forties； hands that twitched nervously as though for their owner this was a first time pick up。
'I'm sorry；' the voice was cultured； no trace of an accent。 'I didn't mean to startle you；'
'S'all right。' Stella was suspicious； gone were the days when you could recognise a policeman whether or not he was wearing a uniform。 Nowadays they came in all shapes and sizes； even frequented brothels just for pleasure。 But one couldn't be too careful。 'Guess I was dreaming。'
'So was I；' he laughed； 'about finding someone like you in a hole like this。 How much？'
His directness took her aback。 If she said three quid and he was a copper it was an admission of guilt。
'I was just waiting for someone；' she tried to see into his eyes but they gave nothing away。
'Somebody like 。 。 。 me！' He moved closer； felt for her hand。
'Could be。'
'Where do we go； then？'
Stella Lowe was trembling slightly。 It wasn't like the usual pick up； a customer trying to smother her with beery kisses and get his hands up her skirt at the same time。 So 。。。 impersonal； calculated in the way one might bargain over a fare with a late night taxi driver。
'There's a house just down the road；' there was a tremor in her voice。 'Last one to be vacated。 Even got a bed left in one of the upstairs rooms。 No sheets； though。' A joke which neither of them laughed at。
'It'll do。' The stranger had a firm grip on her wrist； started to pull her out of the doorway。 The price wasn't asked again； maybe he had no intention of paying。 Stella experienced a terrible foreboding and if she could have freed herself from his hold she would have run as fast as she could in the direction of the 'Tavern'； given herself free to any of her regulars。 Anything to get away from this sinister automaton。 She could not imagine his type even wanting sex。 But there was no escape； she was forced almost to run as he dragged her along。
'Which house？' he grunted after a few minutes。
'That one 。 。 。 over there on the other side；' there was no point in telling lies because he could have dragged her into any one of a dozen empty tumbledown dwellings。
In silence they crossed the road and he pushed open the door of the house she had indicated； scraping the warped wood back across the floor with one hand； closing it with his shoulder after them。 'We don't want to be interrupted； do we？'
She was trembling violently as they mounted the rickety flight of stairs。 He had her arm in a half nelson so that it hurt。 'Look； there's no need to twist my arm。 I'm not going to run off！' A token resistance that was meant to sound angry but came out as more of a whine。 She couldn't hide her fear any longer。
'Aren't you？' He flung her roughly back so that she sprawled on the bare bedsprings； felt her dress snag on a loose wire and start to tear。
'Who are you？' She could see his face clearly for the first time； caught by a shaft of street lighting that slanted in through a broken window； features that were hard and cruel； sadistic。 An expression that had her swallowing and cringing。
'That doesn't matter。 Suffice to say that you have been chosen to serve a purpose； a cause of which you know nothing。'
'What。 。 。 whatever do you mean？' Stella thought about screaming but it would be futile。 Nobody came along this street at night except the odd drunk who would certainly not investigate female shrieks。
'Behold；' there was a maniacal gleam in his eyes； 'you gaze upon one of the honoured disciples of Lilith； goddess of darkness。'
You're crazy； she thought。 A sudden desperate idea had her unfastening her dress； baring her white flesh。 'This is what you wanted； isn't it？'
'Yes 。 。 。 and no；' a whispered laugh； 'but not in the way you mean。'
'Then what the hell are you after？'
'Tonight；' his voice was so low that she had to strain her ears to catch the words； 'the disciples of Lilith have gone abroad to seek the likes of you。 You should be honoured that you have been chosen。'
His sudden attack caught her unawares； a leap that brought him on top of her； the springs groaning their protest。 He seemed to be pinioning her with one hand；
getting something out of one of his pockets with the other。 She thought； oh God； he's got a knife！ The orange light infiltrating the room glinted briefly on something but she had no time to see what it was； did not want to； turning her head away and praying that the end would be quick。
Sudden agony that began in the flesh of her neck； burned right up into her throat； cutting off the piercing scream。 Her throat filling up； blood being sucked out； filling again。 Kicking wildly； her assailant seemingly impervious to her puny feet hammering against his body； laughing。 She felt her strength waning； consciousness slipping from her。 She thought she was screaming； at least she was trying to。
'I am a disciple of Lilith' His words hit her like physical blows as she weakened fast； gargling her own blood； suddenly aware that he was no longer on top of her。 She couldn't see； her sight was gone； just a crimson darkening haze over her eyes。 It sounded as though a tap nearby had been turned on and with a stab of horror she realised that it was her own blood spouting up and splashing on the floor。
Oh Jesus； the bastard had cut her throat I Instinctively； just as Shanda had done； Stella Lowe attempted to plug th