"Silly to admit when it's a given," I started to say, finding a Cheshire grin beginning to tug the corners of my already smiling lips when the man finally gave way to the fact that he was indeed feline as his reputation suggested. Surely the man would wonder where any of my ideas of who and what he was came from (another given) but none of that fell from my lips. Instead, the Cheshire grin rested there as if it was a regular fixture to my features. Davante hadn't been particularly loquacious regarding the were-feline of sorts, but his reputation truly preceded him. If it weren't for Davante's explanation, then Finley surely would have alluded to the great Were Czar who ran the Ark (an unfortunate object of my serious curiosity).

"There aren't many Tetradores."

My experience told me that there were two â€" a woman, and the man who was my guest in my brother's shop. Maybe I was the guest and this man had more of a right to be here than I did; Davante clearly had better uses for the artifact than he did a young woman to watch his store, when he'd given me strict instructions not to bother with customers. Now... half of me wants to wonder why the man even bothers to have a shop, let alone to try and keep customers coming in if he wants staff or whatever it is I am to ignore the clients. As if I could begin to understand the fathoms that are my brothers mind... I exhaled heavily, ridding myself of any attempt to try to understand why Davante didn't just reschedule his meeting because I knew nothing about how to care for the object that was dropped into my too willing hands.

And there it was â€" the object inside of the box became the center of my attention, regardless of the way my hair stood on end when I brushed past Tetradore. It was a reaction I was all too used to â€" especially around unfamiliar men. He seemed safe enough, docile enough... but don't they all at first? I suspect some men seem even more calm than they are because they lure their prey in, but a cat never seems calm. One moment they're there, watching you and the next? They're suddenly on top of you and it only takes a few bats for their prey to know they're a victim to some kind of malicious feline play. It didn't seem that Tetradore was trying to hold me ( a mouse) up by my tail to dangle me for his amusement. Then again, it was typically my brother who did the dangling, and perhaps that was made all too clear to the were-feline, therein explaining his quietude? The machinations of whether or not the man was currently deciding whether I was to be a victim of sorts were quickly swept under a mental rug when his baritone voice broke my internal deliberations.

"The pleasure is mine!" My words were an unfortunately bright chirp, giving away my tendency towards enthusiasm and an open heart. Quickly, I sighed and looked away from the chasm that seemed to be his emerald eyes â€" getting lost in them wasn't part of my plan â€" and back to the object. How it lay there, so innocent and ... what the flying fuck did my brother want with something that wasn't either: volatile, dangerous, or interesting? "Inconvenient, tiresome, and difficult all describe him well," I agreed, not returning my gaze to his while agreeing. Tiresome is right! When Tetradore's voice broke my thoughts once more, I immediately shook my head to let him know that clients were none of my concern. "I am under strict orders to ignore them. I should extend this courtesy to you, too and we can politely ignore them and pay attention to more interesting things. Any idea what Dav wants with the Mexican cube?"

I reached for the cube, gently tracing my fingers over its edges. With a little help from light cast over it, the indents and filigree design over it illuminated, and I couldn't fight the grin from my lips. "Hey, even if it's useless it is pretty. Is this some kind of voodoo toy?"