[center][h1][color=darkslateblue][b]Z A T A N N A[/b][/color][/h1][/center][hr]

[indent]Getting into Club Bewitched proved to be a simple task. Zatanna's new wardrobe saw to that. 

She had arrived in Los Angeles with only the barest of necessities and only a week's worth of clothing. Most of which were basic, meant for comfort, and far from fashionable. A couple of hours of shopping and a new balance on her credit card gave her a more suitable outfit for tonight's surveillance. The black, midriff-baring, off-the-shoulder top and short shorts with fishnet stockings were about as different from Zatanna's usual style as one could get. The thickly laid on makeup was over the top for her tastes, as well. But, she knew it would serve its purpose. Tonight, she would look just like any other young, twenty-something girl flashing just enough skin to meet the club's quota and be granted entrance by the bouncers. 

Locating her target, much to her surprise, proved to be even simpler. Zatanna hadn't expected to get eyes on Eldon Peck on her first foray out. She had been dreading the thought of having to go clubbing night after night, just hoping to get lucky in finding him sooner than later. But, less than an hour after entering Club Bewitched, there he was. 

Zatanna sipped on her cocktail as she watched Peck from a distance. Her seat in the club's lounge area afforded her direct line of sight on the man who was currently showering several barely-legal looking girls with attention and alcohol. For a man pushing fifty, the club owner easily could pass for being in his mid-thirties. He was handsome, she supposed, and looked a little like Christian Bale's doppelganger. Which was fitting considering he gave off a very "American Psycho" vibe. 

It was his smile. After nearly an hour of watching Peck interact with those around him, she couldn't help but notice how [i]off[/i] the man looked when he smiled. Like a piece of plastic being stretched across his face in a well-rehearsed facsimile of a one without any of the emotion behind it.

She continued watching him for the next several hours, making sure to move over to the dance floor every so often to keep up appearances. Aside from a brief restroom visit, Peck kept to his VIP area where he could receive constant adoration from young women desperate to impress the wealthy club owner. By the time it was nearing two o'clock in the morning, Zatanna decided to call it a night. She figured he wasn't likely to do anything unusual or noteworthy at this point and, if she were being honest with herself, she couldn't tolerate another minute of watching the man grope another young girl's backside. 

The rear parking lot for the club was empty at that time of night. New party-goers weren't likely to arrive this late and those were had stayed for this long were probably in it for the long haul. Zatanna shifted uncomfortably as she waited for her Uber, the cold Los Angeles night caused her skin to break out in goosebumps. Pacing back and forth, Zatanna cursed her ridiculous outfit for the hundredth time since leaving her hotel room. The fishnet stockings did absolutely nothing to protect her from the elements.

"Ugh," she groaned in frustration as she checked the time on her phone once again. Another ten minutes until her ride was to arrive.

"This is stupid, Zee," she reasoned with herself. "Just do it. No one's watching."

Tucking her dark hair back behind an ear and casting a nervous glance around the empty lot, Zatanna confirmed her own words. 

She continued murmuring out loud, "okay, okay. I'm doing it..." 

Clapping her hands together, Zatanna began rubbing her palms back and forth. The slight heat from the movement's friction slowly began to expand and envelop both hands entirely before radiating up her arms. She exhaled, focusing her breathing, and concentrated on that heat wiling it to increase. She visualized the budding warmth being pulled away from her clasped hands and collecting into a tiny sphere before her. Within seconds it did just that. A mixture of red and orange energy danced down her fingers and began to gather at the tips. It grew from a tiny bead to a golfball-sized roiling flame that flickered in the air. 

Just as she was about to will the fire to move down towards her legs and provide some much-desired relief from the biting chill, a soft voice called out to her from behind.

"Excuse me..."

The flame vanished in a brief spark of light as Zatanna startled. 

Whirling around in a mixture of surprise and guilt, Zatanna threw her hands behind her back as if she were a schoolgirl caught sneaking a cigarette between classes. 

She had half-expected the voice to belong to a guy from the club, liquid courage perhaps inspiring him to try his luck with her. But, instead, she saw a little old lady bundled up in a worn-down grey shawl. Her hands gripping tightly to the edges of the cloth and pulling it closer to her tiny body. It was difficult to tell with her face obscured in the darkness of the night, but Zatanna imagined the woman to be at least in her seventies. 

"Uh, yes? Can I help you?" Zatanna wondered if the lady might be lost or confused. Or even homeless, she realized, as a closer look revealed the ratty shawl's grey coloring was probably from being unwashed. 

The elderly woman, barely five feet tall and hunched over, slowly spun from side to side as if just now realizing her surroundings. 

"I'm so sorry to bother you, dearie." Her voice was high and cracked, giving Zatanna the impression she was nursing a parched throat or had been a long-time smoker. 

When the woman didn't add anything further, only looking forward expectantly, Zatanna encouraged her to say more. "Are you okay, ma'am? It's awfully cold out tonight. And late. Are you lost? Do you need me to call someone for you?" 

"[sub][sub]... So warm.[/sub][/sub]" The words were mumbled and whatever she had said beforehand were lost to the wind. 

"I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't quite make out—"

The lady stumbled forward, throwing out her arms to clutch onto Zatanna for support. Her fingers curled into the cloth of the younger woman's shirt who gasped and reached out to catch this poor stranger. 

"You're so warm..." She repeated, this time loud enough for Zatanna to hear. 

Zatanna frowned slightly and considered her minimalist outfit. It wasn't exactly what she would consider warm attire, she was still shivering from the chilly night herself. But if this woman was indeed homeless and had been out in this weather all night, Zatanna could at least sympathize. 

"Oh, God," Zatanna said. "Let me call you some help."

She tried reaching back for her phone but the old woman suddenly clutched at Zatanna's arms. 

"I can feel it. Inside of you. So [I]warm[/i]." 

This time the lady's voice sounded harsher but more energetic. Her hands against Zatanna's bare skin felt rough and clasped tightly onto the latter's arms with surprising strength. The shawl, no longer being held against her body, fell back, and at the same time, the woman tossed her head upwards.

Dull yellow eyes stared at and almost through Zatanna. Thin, pale lips stretched apart to reveal a jagged row of razored teeth. 

It rasped out, "I [i]want[/i] it. Give it to me, now!"



[/indent]