A cat is a substance that can be in solid, liquid and gaseous state …
Lessa Kauri. Dragonfly for the dead
CHAPTER 1
It took me an effort to pretend to be asleep. The killer walked by, but smoke from the muzzle of his pistol scorched my face. Or a muzzle? Indeed, who would kill a cat? How can she testify even if she wanted to?
The woman on the floor writhed in pain, the gaping wound in her belly was bleeding, and she soon subsided. When Thunder was out of sight, I went over and licked her face. It was still warm. It was impossible to transform now, it was unsafe, and besides, there was nothing I could do to help this unfortunate woman. The police are coming soon and we have to leave.
I've met Thunder before. He has eyes that you will never forget, and you will have nightmares in your dreams, in which he comes to shake your whole soul out of you or even kill you. Thunder is an ideal assassin who makes no mistakes, and his super abilities are an excellent defense for him, because mere mortals are simply not able to move at such a speed. Several times people went out on his trail, he was pursued with helicopters and combat aircraft, but all was in vain. And today I saw him in action.
My super abilities also helped me. Every time I was in danger, I, like a werewolf, changed my appearance and no one could understand where I had gone. I am deliberately specifying "like a werewolf" because I am not a werewolf. And not a comic book hero, although "catwoman" is perhaps the most suitable name for me.
And my name is Mala, we will know each other.
"Well, that's all, goodbye dear!" – Thunder looked the deceased directly in the eyes. He had to kill so many times that if he started counting, he would certainly fall asleep somewhere in between. The sharp pain that covered his victims made them writhe and twist, and this, in truth, caused his disgust.
Madame Piescu was not pleasant – she worked as a teacher at school, often bringing children to tears. Once, because of her, a high school student even hanged himself. But that's not why he killed her. It's just that the "roulette of life" pointed to it – it was supposed to be next. In all fairness, it should be noted that there were no good people on his “short list”.
He was not just a killer: he was a killer with compassion and empathy. Even if the tape indicated the victim, it turned out that he was a good person, he missed it. Sometimes there was a rare chance to destroy a true monster – then Grom did not hesitate, not regretting anything, depriving the victim of life.
I closed my eyes and replayed the events of the evening in my mind. I remember how the hollow barrel of a pistol buried in my face. The thunder was calm. He just wondered whether to kill me or not. Frankly, I felt very sad then at the thought that this was our last meeting. Grom had an eerie face covered with scars, he looked like a real killer. Why is he hesitating? I braced myself for the taste of steel on my tongue. But that did not happen. He just got up and walked away.
“You are probably perplexed and think that I should have killed this cat? He mused on his way to Ozzy House on Seven Mountains. "You know, I have never seen a cat harm anyone anywhere, in any Universe."
Plus, he was superstitious. To kill a black cat means to get setbacks a hundred times more serious than if he crossed your path. "Mrs. Piescu will be found today with a Y-shaped scar on her body – soon they will be close to solving, and I will be on my way home." Grom rubbed the muzzle of his trusty weapon in his pocket and, anticipating a quick trip, grinned contentedly.
CHAPTER 2
– Just imagine, Caesar! – I, languidly closing my eyes, went over in my memory the events of the past day. “He aimed it right at me! He was aiming for my face! – I grimaced, so that it turned out something like a smile. – Well, that is, in the face.
My ginger cat listened, humming with pleasure, devouring his favorite wet food. Unlike me, Caesar did not have the gift of reincarnation and was not originally a man, but was just an ordinary … yard cat. And he was no different from his fellows, except that the extremely silky and shiny marble-red fur.
I closed my eyes dreamily.
And still cool! I met one on one with Vermouth Thunder himself, and survived. Even if I dared to tell someone about it, no one would believe me!
The thunder was cheerful. “Well, Madame Piescu, today you are unlikely to have dinner with your family, and tomorrow you will not continue to torment children. You had a bad temper, Madame Piescu! " He thought as he walked up the night street to Piazza Como. Whenever Thunder had to kill someone, he felt relief. “One more vile likeness of the soul has become less” – this is how he justified himself, setting himself a mission – to cleanse the city from filth. And, of course, return home.
Thunder was not human, nor was he an alien in the full sense of the word. Thunder was a cross between man and sphinxes – alien kvashi-creatures that lived in the distant system of twelve suns. It was thanks to this unusual incest that people from his planet possessed supernatural powers.
