Cat & Moused: A Pierced Series Short Story

by J. C. Mells

beautiful, mysterious, exotic painting. A painting that Moused couldn’t seem to stop looking at.

  “Do you like what you see, Monsieur Thurman?” she asked without opening her eyes.

  “How do you know what I’m looking at?”

  “Let’s just say I made a wild guess,” she replied before opening glistening eyes and staring right back at him.

  “Have you finished?” Moused asked calmly.

  “Have I finished what?”

  “Have you finished with that heap of bull crap you just tried to feed me?”

  “Was it the tear-filled eyes? Too much?”

  Moused may have imagined it, but he could have sworn he caught a flicker of something flash across Cat’s face. Something that hinted she was possibly relieved – or maybe even impressed – he hadn’t fallen for her story.

  “First of all,” Moused continued with a small smile, “Henri Toussaint is not considering Giving In. He may be old, but he’s way too stubborn to take his own life and leave the running of his prestigious Family to the likes of his deranged nephew or a mere female. Yes, he uses you two as his Enforcers – and while that term can mean Head of Security or even assassin, I would assume that where you’re concerned, its meaning leans a little more into the ‘baby-sitting’ category. Henri needs someone who cares about the Family name to keep an eye on Crazy Claude. Who better to do that than his sister? After all, wasn’t it Claude who murdered the sixty-five year-old husband you were forced to marry as a teenager? Separating people from their heads seems to be something of a hobby for your brother, doesn’t it?

  “Then there’s your Uncle Henri. He’s too old and too set in his antiquated ways to fully trust handing over the reins of his House to a woman – even if she is the best …woman… for the job. Instead he hangs false hope on Claude, who probably thinks he’s your superior but in reality, nothing could be further from the truth. You may let Claude think he takes the lead on everything, but it’s really you that calls the shots. As the smarts behind your little team of… deux… how frustrating it must be to know that Henri realizes this, but yet never gives you your due. Or, are your manipulation skills so honed and fine-tuned by now that you have him under your thumb too?”

  “Mon cheri…”

  “I’m not finished,” Moused added before she could interrupt him completely. “Despite all the things I’ve mentioned, you still have to adhere to Henri’s prelapsarian way of life, for example, shun the one House that is moving with the times; the one House that’s developing ground-breaking technology that is going to change the face of vampire society as we know it.

  “While I find it very flattering that you trapped me in this elevator and tried to manipulate me – maybe even seduce me a little – in the hopes it would give whatever low grade, inferior scanner you no doubt have in your bag enough time to upload files from my laptop, I should’ve probably told you right from the start that my laptop is protected by software I developed myself – and scanning it is one hundred percent impossible.”

  “It was the accent, right?” Cat interjected, all trace of the French having vanished from her speech completely.

  “Yeah, the tears were a bit over the top, but the fake accent was kind of growing on me. I’m sure it works on ninety-nine point nine percent of the computer nerds you use it on, but I’m not exactly your usual computer techie.”

  “I’m beginning to see that, Mr. Thurman,” Cat replied with a smirk. “You continue to amaze me – and I mean that sincerely. Or as sincerely as a jaded, shallow, manipulative…how did you describe it… baby-sitter… can be,” she said with a chuckle.

  “Out of curiosity, what files of mine were you after specifically?” Moused asked.

  “Oh nothing too classified. Just the files pertaining to the security upgrades you implemented today at Wainwrights. My delusional House Master keeps selling off Family heirlooms of intrinsic value, and then forgets he did it. Convinced he’s been robbed, he tasks Claude and me with stealing them back. In other words, it’ll be up to me to come up with some sort of plan as to how to get the job done. If I wait a few months, Henri will probably forget all about the mission – he usually does. But Claude won’t.”

  “I look forward to your attempt. I’m always thinking of ways to improve our systems, and while the humans that purchase them don’t know it, I account for thieves of the supernatural variety – which just makes my job a little bit more interesting. Maybe you’ll find some weakness in the system I overlooked.”

  “But that’s not likely, is it?” Cat asked with a smile.

  “Nope,” Moused smiled back. “If anyone can beat my system, it might be you though. But tell me, why didn’t you just hit me over the head and take my computer when I first came into the elevator?”

  “Please, Mousey. Give me some credit. That was Claude’s idea. I’d like to think I have a little more finesse than that. What would be the fun in knocking you out? Oh, and also I’m sure you have some high-tech, self-imploding, password protection on that laptop far beyond a retinal scan or fingerprint – am I right?”

  Moused’s reply took the form of an all-knowing smirk.

  “Where is Claude, by the way?” he asked when it was apparent he had no intention of answering her direct question about his computer protection software.

  “I convinced him he had to wait in the car for me. He is, after all, the best getaway driver in town.”

  “Or at least that’s what you told him,” Moused laughed. “How did you get past Charles at the security check-in desk?”

  “A girl has to have some secrets, Mr. Thurman,” Cat said coyly.

  “What are you doing for dinner tomorrow night?”

  “Why Mr. Thurman. Are you asking me out on a date? Isn’t tomorrow Christmas?”

  “Yes…and yes. I’m taking the jet out to Nevada to spend Christmas day with that Nowhere Pack you’ve heard so much about. How would you like to meet them?”

  “Let me guess, your House Masters, Hendrick and Oscar are going to be there too, aren’t they? And it’s really them you want me to meet.”

  “You’re not just a pretty face, are you?”

  “Will Reyes be there too?”

  “Probably not.” Definitely not, but she didn’t need to know that.

  “I’ll let you know later, my highly amusing, extremely intriguing and very interesting new young friend,” she said with a wink as she pressed the button that would return them to the Lobby.

  Moused had only just made it to his feet when the elevator stopped on the ground floor and the doors opened. In two swift moves, faster than the eye could see, Cat had him out and under the mistletoe Moused had been rolling his eyes at almost an hour ago. Pulling him to her she kissed him hard and deep – and then she was gone. The sound of her laughter and the click-clack of her heels echoed across the marble and from around the corner as she exited the building and the only thing left behind was the lingering smell of her perfume in the air and on his clothes.

  Shaking his head to rid it of the momentary daze and uncharacteristic stupor her actions had caused, Moused stepped back into the elevator and pressed the forty-fifth floor again.

  'Tis the season to be jolly, Fa la la la la la la la!

  Don we now our gay apparel, Fa la la la la la la la!

  Without even noticing he was doing it, Moused began to hum along with Deck the Halls, which was currently playing above him. He was still humming it under his breath as he made his way into his office a few minutes later. As soon as the door closed behind him he pressed the side of his glasses to call Hendrick.

  “Calling again so soon? What happened?”

  “Catrionella Monsignac just attempted a cyber-heist, boss.”

  “Are you all right, Moused? Was it your new cyborg-vamp chip she was after, as you thought?”

  “I’m fine. And did you just call it the cyborg-vamp chip?” Moused asked with a laugh.

  “Focus, Moused.”

  “Yes, sorry. She was m
ost definitely after the chip. She played it like she was only looking for security files for the Wainwright installation and even fed me some story about retrieving Family artifacts – but she was without a doubt looking for the chip. She asked about Reyes just a hint too much.”

  “Hmm. So she knows a little more than the fact the chip exists. She also knows its destination. How do you think she found out about it?”

  “We have a leak. A low level one is my guess. Everyone else has too much riding on it. Regardless, why don’t you ask her yourself tomorrow night.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I invited her to Christmas dinner at the Balak’s tomorrow.”

  There was a brief pause as Hendrick took in this information.

  “Let me get this straight. An Enforcer for an enemy vampire House – and now confirmed cyber-terrorist – is coming to Christmas dinner with our wolf allies, the Nowhere Pack… as your… date.”

  “Yes, boss. And it’s less ‘terrorist’ and more ‘thief.’ It sure does sound like fun, doesn’t it? Finally, a Christmas I’m looking forward to!”

  There was another long pause from Hendrick’s end.

  “Are you rolling your eyes, boss?”

  “You and Reyes will be the death…nevermind. I’m going to call the Balaks and tell them to expect another person for dinner.”

  “Before you go,” Moused interjected, “can you please get me the number for Reyes’ tailor? Does he work late on Christmas Eve, do you know?”

  There was a heavy sigh from the other end