The night air was unseasonably crisp as Melanie strolled the streets. They seemed so different than just a month ago when things had made more sense. Sure, she knew there were corrupt cops, and her life was in danger, but at least there weren't werewolves to think about, as well as most likely being pregnant. What did you call werewolf children anyway? Pups?

A bitter wind gusted and Melanie pulled her leather jacket and hoodie up tighter over her head. While she normally detested wearing hoods, she knew that with the entire police force was looking for her, she had to be careful. It was why she had chosen The War Zone for her walk. The notorious red light district was a haven for street hustlers, gangsters, pimps, prostitutes, and just about every other form of illegal activity in the city. If your tastes ran towards the illicit side of life, most likely The War Zone could cater to your desires. It was the most dangerous section of the city, and the cops didn't come down unless they were in serious force. Like SWAT team force.

"Hey babe, you lookin' for some playtime?" A prostitute that couldn't have been older than 14 called to her, wearing fishnet stockings, a ripped skirt, and bringing gorge to Melanie's mouth, a Hello Kitty t-shirt tied up in a way to try and accentuate the girl's developing breasts. She was fish-belly white and looked like she was starving. Her dirty auburn hair was done up in pigtails, and she wore enough makeup that you could pretend she was 18 if you were drunk enough. "I can go a lot of ways, you know. I'm the best scissor in all The War Zone."

"No thanks," Mel said, turning away. Why did it have to be this way? She had joined the force to protect children like this. And now she was running from the very same force, after finding it corrupt. Why did humans have to be such evil bastards?

Mel kept walking, her mind whirling with thoughts about her life, about Keith, about the whole situation. She knew that she loved Keith. To call it a whirlwind romance would be an understatement, but she knew she loved him, not just lusted after him. Suddenly, someone grabbed Melanie's arm, breaking her from her reverie.

"Hey bitch, you weren't being very nice to my girl April back there," a greasy looking man scowled in her face. "She asked you for some playtime, real nice like, and you just walked off. That ain't polite."

Melanie pulled her arm back, out of the pimp's grasp. "Fuck off, buddy. You don’t want to fuck with me tonight." The pimp looked closer under Mel's hood, and a cavity-ridden smile grew on his face.

"Yeah, I bet so.... Detective. Although you picked the wrong night to go for a walk, lady. The way I figure it, you got two choices. You can give me every cent you got, or I call out that a cop wanted for child kidnapping and murder happens to be walking down the street, and someone should call your cop friends. I don't know who'd kill you first, the cops, or everyone else on this street." While The War Zone was nowhere near as busy as the more famous metropolitan districts such as San Francisco's Tenderloin or New York City's Times Square, there were still dozens of people within sight, all of them engaged in some form of criminal enterprise or another.

Melanie twisted to the side, seeming to think for a moment, before whirling back to the pimp, her fingers already formed into a spear hand. She jabbed the pimp's throat and relished at the gagging sound he produced. His hands flew to cover his throat, and she used the momentary distraction to kick the exposed inside of his right knee with the side of her tennis shoe. His knee buckled outward, at least three of the major ligaments torn, but before he could even collapse, Mel followed up with a Thai knee to his solar plexus. The pimp hit the concrete with a mail sack thump, his eyes fluttering once before dropping unconscious.

Mel looked around the street. Fights and altercations were nothing unusual in The War Zone, so the patrons and hookers barely paid her any attention. The only person who paid any attention was the young prostitute, who was looking at Melanie with a strange mix of fear, anger, and adoration. "What am I going to do when Danny wakes up?" she asked fearfully. "He likes to cut girls that disappoint him."

Melanie reached for the pocket of the fatigue pants she had borrowed from Kimberly and pulled out the money clip Kimberly had insisted she carry. She pulled the clip off and peeled the first bill off the top, not even looking at what it was. Pocketing the bill, she thrust the rest at the girl, folded discreetly so as not to draw attention. "He called you April, right?"

The girl nodded. "Yeah, but that's not my real name."

"I know. I'm only going to say this once, so listen up. You're better than this bastard. I don't care what line of bullshit he used on you, I don't care what angle he played to get you out here, you're better than this fucking shit. Get out of this life."

"But I got nowhere else to go!" the teen wailed, tears starting to course down her pale face, streaking her cheap makeup. Mel glanced again and stepped closer to April in order to cover the scene.

"You stay out here, and you're going to either be dead or strung out on Ice by the time you're 20," Mel whispered fiercely. "Get yourself over to City of Hope in the Financial District. They've got programs to help girls like you, and I know the director, she's legit. Take this money, get some food, and get yourself uptown. Now I gotta go, before the sack of shit behind me wakes up and starts screaming about his knee. Get. Yourself. Uptown. City of Hope. Tonight. Got it?"

The young pro could only nod as Mel turned, fixed the hood around her face again, and took off at a fast walk up the street. She turned the corner a block up, and April watched her disappear into the night. April looked down at her hand, which was holding the packet of bills the hooded woman had thrust to her. She wouldn't dare count it out here in the street, but she did know that the packet was thick, at least five or six bills thick, and that the face looking up at her belonged to Benjamin Franklin. The girl looked up in the direction the hooded woman had disappeared, tears of joy falling from her eyes for the first time since she could remember. "Thank you," the young girl whispered, before turning and running off into the night.