Cat's Paw

Cat's paw: a person used by another to accomplish a purpose

Bryndis Ambrose flips off the light switch with a heavy sigh as she ambles toward the exit door, guarding her thoughts, I've been selling antiques throughout the Midwestern states for the past 60 plus years. She slows her pace watching the moonbeams bleed through the dirty windows, flinging eerie shadows across the floor at her feet. Not one person is aware of my real identity, my true nature nor why I'm actually here filling this insignificant position-well, until tonight that is.

Pausing, her hand on the doorknob, Bryndis feels the stranger lurking behind her in the dark shop. She's not afraid just annoyed, it's been a long day-she's hungry and tired. Fuck, all I want is Chinese food and a long hot bath-not a midnight showdown with supernatural forces...

She reaches out to the intruder with her mind, "Why are you here?"

He seems surprised but confident, "To talk."

She retorts, "I'm listening..."

He chuckles, "Not like this...you're melting my brain."

She rolls her eyes with a satisfied smirk but doesn't move-she stiffens as the presence comes closer.

He pushes out to her mind again, "Come on, Ambrose..."

Her head pops up at the use of the surname, hand dropping back to her side, fingers twitching, "Do I know you?"

Smiling, he sends her an image from earlier that night-a man buying a dream catcher.

She questions, "Human. Male."

He chuckles, "I was going for valued customer but that'll work...to a point."

She spins on her heel, arms jerk down to a 45 degree angle away from her body, digits spread wide and fidgeting-like a western gunslinger ready to drawn a revolver-as shrouded energy roils beneath her nailbeds, "WHAT. DO. YOU. WANT."

The man stands about 20 paces behind her, "Relax...just a conversation."

Bryndis quips, "You're a human male...I highly doubt talking's a priority."

Chuckling, he raises a brown paper sack nodding at it, "Astute observation, but there's food so I should be able to focus for about the next 30 minutes, give or take."

Bryn's eyes snap to the large, brown paper bag and then to the other hand-holding a dark, glass bottle at the neck, wine...

A coy smile lighting his face in the silvery moonlight, "Beef & Broccoli-extra broccoli-General Tso and Sesame Chicken with steamed rice-all your favorites."

She pins him with a glare as she slams the snipe back into his brain, Thanks, but I'm not interested in the dating scene...

He laughs out loud, "Funny, and noted...but this is business."

Bryndis raises a brow, "My hours are posted on the door, make an appointment like the rest of the world..." and then she turns to leave.

"Surprised that attitude hasn't gotten you killed angel-although personally...I do find it quite the challenge."

She stops in her tracks with a deep sigh-reading the implied warning beneath the words-she pivots and walks slowly toward him, "Interesting choice of endearments. So, it's just a conversation, you want?"

"And dinner-come on, food's gettin' cold..." he holds the brown bag aloft, nodding at it and then walks back into the dimly lit store.

Bryndis pauses, her hand hovering over the light switch, she doesn't need the illusion of light to see-her advanced optics reveal things human eyes were never meant to witness and should never attempt to envisage-and her guest has been skulking around in the dark all night so she drops her hand and heads back into the darkness grumbling to herself, Fuck, I'm never gonna finish this flippin' training with all these interruptions...