The Kitten of Doom
I slid the bag across the table. The hooded figure opposite me peered inside.
“Where the hell did you find this?!” he demanded roughly.
I stared back at him levelly. “Does it really matter? I got it, no questions asked.”
The man reached into the duffel and pulled out a tiny black kitten. “There haven’t been any felines on earth for decades,” he murmured as he tentatively stroked the kitten between its ears.
I smiled grimly. Not that he knew of, anyway.
“And a black one too,” he added. “The most powerful.” The kitten closed its eyes and began to purr. The man nearly dropped it and hissed a curse between his teeth.
I stood and held out my hand, palm up. “Just give me what you owe and it’s yours.”
He slapped a thick wad of bills in my hand. “Remember, any word about this and you’ll be a sorry man,” he growled.
I laughed bitterly. “I already am.” I turned on my heel and strode away. He could keep that monstrosity. Cute as it may be, the kitten possessed powers more evil than he had seen in a long while. If the reward hadn’t been so juicy, I would have been content to leave that wretched ball of fluff on the island where I’d found it.