#may!verseau

April quietly whispered a few words to the stainless steel table, politely asking it to go a bit against its nature and warm up a few degrees, before spreading a disposable sheet across it and turning to greet the patient who had walked through her door.

He was a young man with unruly, sandy hair, wearing an officer’s uniform, and covered in blood. The usual. Not as bad as some days. It looked like the arms; knife wounds, defensive.

She reached out to sense his vitals. He’d lost some blood; she didn’t need magic to see he was pale. Not in immediate danger though. His life force still felt awake, maybe a little shaken, but he’d be okay with some rest, and of course, some healing.

When she spoke, it was quiet, businesslike but with an undertone of warmth. “Okay Officer…Murison,” she read the name off the tag. “Come on, sit down before you fall down.” She gestured to the table. “Let me help you out of that jacket, and we’ll have you mended in no time.”

@acompanyofx asked: “Do I have to have a reason to take someone as pretty as you?”

It was the sort of situation where one might say they couldn’t remember the last time they had been so frightened. But Cat did. She remembered it precisely. It was more than two years ago, now, when she had been crossing the street, and felt an hand on her arm, and heard that voice. But she had conquered that fear, fought the man whose voice had once paralyzed her with fear, even helped to organize a coup against the corrupt government he worked for. She had grown very strong, doing that, and it took a lot more to frighten her.

But this time, there had been no hand on her arm, no voice, nor armed guards lurking in the alleys. She had simply been one place, and then another, sitting in a leather armchair and facing a stranger in what appeared to be a study, a table between them and a fire lit. She had never seen magic like that, and this man…she had never seen magic like him, either. He had no scent, beyond expensive cologne. He had no heartbeat, no breathe, and yet he spoke. His eyes, for the brief moments she had dared to meet them, were an inhuman violet that almost glowed, and there was…something she couldn’t explain. Something around him, like she was looking at him through warped glass or a strange mirror, that made her want to recoil.

“Well, there you are, aren’t you?” said Cat, slowly slinking into the room, one of Beliaz’ many dungeons. If anything, the influence of her master and how it was slowly changing her only increased the fluidity of her natural feline grace. “Wrapped up like a present, just for me.”

In fact, the young man who stood, arms bound above him with just enough slack for his feet to reach the floor, in the center of the room, had been allowed only a pair of jeans for his modesty, but that was more clothes than Beliaz gave most of his playthings.

Cat was fully dressed in black, an interesting creature who had once been human, but had been changed more than once by men who were equally madmen and visionaries. Her black hair hung past her shoulders, often obscuring her cat-like eyes, green with flecks of purple like little jewels shot through them. Her fangs and claws were not obscured at all, and her skin had taken on an unnatural, greenish pallor.

She walked to him, slowly, placing a hand on his chest, trailing it behind her as she walked a full circle around him. He was such a small thing, perhaps an inch shorter than she was. She looked into his eyes as she ran her fingers through his hair. “Such soft skin—he’s healed you for me, hasn’t he? Such big, gentle eyes, filled with fear. It’s in your smell, too,” she smiled at him, showing her fangs. “You smell wonderful. You’re like a sweet little lamb.”

“I was surprised to hear you served Master Beliaz, but hadn’t sworn yourself to him. It comes with rewards, you know. For instance, I asked if I could borrow you for a while, to have a sweet little lamb all my own. So you don’t have to look so scared. I’m not nearly as dangerous as the Master. No one will be allowed to hurt my little lamb.”

“Except me, of course.”

@notquiteahitman

“Now don’t worry,” said Cat when she heard Josh start to stir. He was secured to a dentist chair with a combination of zip ties and duct tape. “I know people hate the dentist. But that’s not what we’re here for. Office was closed down.” She started unpacking her kit; she’d made sure to be behind Josh, so he could wonder what was going on.

“So you’re Josh Wills, then? You know most people have given you up for dead. Breslin thought it was worth a few more looks, though, and I happen to be a rather good tracker. I’m Cat, pleased to meet you.” She spent a few more minutes just carefully clicking bits of metal together, for the suspense. “So yeah, don’t worry, not going to be doing any dental work today.”