Chapter Seventeen - Hunter on the Prowl

While Sharp worked, I napped.

I didn't want to admit, even to myself, that I was only doing it because I was so damned tired, but that did play a large role in it.

When we arrived, Paris looked ready to rip Sharp a new one until she saw all the blood, then she brought Sharp to her office and asked some pointed questions.

The woman didn't seem happy with the news, and I could understand. Fenway wasn't far from South Boston. There was Central between the two, but only a sliver in some places, and violence had a tendency to slip past borders.

Paris frowned the entire time, then ordered both of us to get cleaned up. I enjoyed a warm bath of sorts in the sink while Sharp took a shower. Unfortunately, I ended up going to bed wet and tangled up. I was really living up to the gremlin appearance.

Sharp returned from work that night, woke me up for a few minutes as she settled into bed, then fell right asleep.

I slept through most of the night, except for a spot in the middle where I woke up and just couldn't sleep.

So I wandered.

Sharp hadn't closed the door entirely, and by my estimates it was something like three or four in the morning. I would have spent time on the phone, but I just didn't feel it at the moment.

I stepped out of our room and then walked along the length of the corridor just beyond. There was a stitch in my side, and I could tell that I probably had bruises all over under my fur. Honestly, resting was probably for the best, but stretching out a bruise--as painful as it might be--was sometimes a great way to help them heal.

I was also a little peckish... Paris wouldn't mind if I found some leftovers, would she?

The door to the kitchen was one of those handleless doors made for waiters to bump into to open. It was easy enough to push against it enough to open a slice large enough to slip in. It was dark within, but there were a number of machines with LEDs that had been left on, and the fire exit sign above provided a thin red ambiance to the entire room that let me see well enough.

I started to move across the kitchen, nose sniffing the air and picking out more scents more distinctly than I would have been able to with my human nose.

And that's when I heard a squeak ahead of me and froze.

Where had that... there!

A pair of eyes glimmering in the dark. Barely visible behind the leg of a stainless steel table. But I could make out a thin tail.

Well well well. When the cat came out to play, so did the mice.

I continued to walk, not missing a beat. The one thing that would always give an assassin away was a hyperfocus on their target. It was incredible how close to someone you could come just by casually walking their way and pretending they weren't there.

The mouse didn't move at all, not until I was only a foot away. Then its whiskers twitched. The post was between us. It couldn't see me right now.

Which was why I bolted right towards it.

The mouse squeaked as I came around the corner, claws deployed and paw swinging.

I landed a single good smack on the mouse before it took off scampering away. Then the chase was on.

Usually, the mouse would have an advantage of size, being small enough to slip under things, but I was a kitten, and that was gone.

But damn was it ever slippery.

We raced across the kitchen, my paws padding silently as I gave chase, the mouse squeaking like mad. It had a few cuts on its side already, but those weren't slowing it down.

And then it made the fatal mistake of trying to slip under an oven. The crack was just wide enough for its head, but its rear legs needed to scratch at the ground to pull it under.

I gripped its flank with both paws, claws digging into flesh, then I went to bite down on its spine... only to reconsider.

This was a mouse. A rodent. I was not putting that in my mouth.

The mouse squeaked some more, got free, and disappeared under the oven.

"Tsk. I'll get you next time," I warned.

Now my claws were all dirty again!

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Combat Has Levelled Up!

Combat 1 > 2

Cat Has Levelled Up!

Cat 1 > 2

Hmm. That was certainly worth more than a midnight snack!

"Enjoy your freedom, rodent, because you've just become my training toy," I said before turning around and starting to walk off.

I blinked as I got a third notification.

Cool Has Levelled Up!

Cool 0 > 1

Hmph.

I returned to our room after cleaning my paws off as best I could with a piece of tissue. I wasn't going to track bacteria into Sharp's bed if I could avoid it. Then I snuggled up atop the sleeping girl. She was resting on her front, face pressed into her pillow, and drool pooling out of her mouth.

Yeah, she had a lot of work ahead of her to level up Cool. But we'd work on it.

I fell right back asleep and only woke up when Sharp rolled over and I slid off her back. "Ah, good morning," she said past a yawn.

"Good morning," I replied as I blinked awake. "Time to head out?"

"Yeah."

We had a lot on our plate today, but it would start with getting to Brookline and seeing what Mark had for us in terms of work. Sharp took another quick shower, and I insisted that she help me brush down my fur to unmat it a little after my morning bath.

Once we had cash, I was definitely taking her shopping for some basic hygienic supplies. There were shampoos for cats out there, and I wanted some.

Once our ablutions were complete and Sharp grabbed some toast and leftovers from the kitchen, we were off.

Sharp was getting used to making her way across the city, and it showed in how quickly we made it to the Courier's office. Though she complained a few times along the way that her legs were sore.

That was just the normal consequence of exercise, however. If anything, it was a good sign. It meant that next time Sharp and I got into any sort of trouble, she'd be that much more ready to run.

Now I just needed to find a way for her to work out her upper body and I was set.

Mark greeted us with a nod, though he did seem pleased to see Sharp, especially when she asked how Derek was doing.

The other courier was out of his operation already and was recovering just fine. The company had insurance for any real employee... something which Sharp wouldn't get unless she worked here for a full year.

Derek would be back on his robotic feet within the week, but in the meantime that left a gap in the company lineup that Sharp would do her part to fill.

As promised, we had a few things to deliver. One package needed to be picked up. The other two were at the office already and just had to be delivered.

The pickup was in Brookline, to be delivered in Cambridge. The two other packages went to Brookline and Cambridge as well, so we'd be spending all morning in that area of the city, which suited me just fine.

Sharp grabbed a bike--fully recharged overnight--settled the packages in, then took off through the district at a fairly leisurely pace. One part because we weren't in a big hurry and the area was mostly safe, and one part because she made whimpering noises anytime she had to sit back down on the bike's saddle.

"So, where are we going, again?" Sharp asked.

I sat with the wind in my face atop the bike's sidecar. "Northern end of Cambridge. There's a gym there called the Groovy Galaxy. And yes, it's disco themed."

"What's a disco?"

"Nevermind. You'll see for yourself soon enough. There's a dead drop there. And as couriers, we have every right to pick it up as long as you have the right passcodes, which I do."

"Neat! Uh. What's a dead drop?"

"It's a way of trading things between two parties without either party being present and without the goods being lost. You leave the parcel in a safe location, then you leave and signal the other part who come and take it. In this case there's about seventy-five thousand dollars in a duffel for us to gra--"

Sharp and I came to a hard stop as she spun around in her seat to stare at me, and inadvertently turned the handles enough to run the bike into a telephone pole. "There's how much?" she squeaked.

***