Pseudosapien

Shaky

Acting her way into Tower's good graces was easy as she was already trusted by him...well, as trusted as a serial killer could be by another on a first date. She was out of her comfort zone severely tonight as she listened to him divulge tiny bits of personal information from their pristine table high off the ground in a restaurant that screamed of grandiosity. That's why she felt off tonight; unfocused. This was why she liked Feelers more than the Dead...let alone wealthy Dead.

What she did know was that she was on his territory. Everything in the way he held himself, spoke, and in how he barely paid any attention to things other than her and his food. It was that of a trained professional.

The other problem was that this aura of his turned her on more than a little. It was never money, words, or things like that...it was that the man before her was not only an expert at his practice of killing but he managed to not let it get to his head after all these years of not getting caught or even considered.

"What do you do?"

"Sorry?"

"Your job...what is it you do during your daylight hours?" Anemone swallowed before answering. The food wasn't too bad, but still nowhere near worthy of its high cost...or as good as a pepperoni pizza would be.

"You'll laugh." She smiled shyly and it was only half pretend. In the company of Tower, she was able to pull off the Feeler act a lot better than she fancied.

"Why would you say that?" He was more attentive than Feelers but not in a sexual way. No, anyone in the presence of one like Tower...was eyed with very basic questions in mind. Are they a threat? Have they noticed the power difference? He was subtle in his silent message but she knew what his main question was as he kept his eyes on hers.

He was more than wary of her potential to be the Reaper attacking their Poker Club.

The Tower aka Emmanuelle Muster would take time to conquer.

"Because I'm a psychologist."

The laughter that rippled from him was hearty.

"Wow, really?"

"Yes, I am. Quite proudly." With a tad bit of difficulty she kept her gaze steady on his in that 'You have a problem with that?' Sort of way. Feeling like a greenhorn after her first kill in front of him enraged her but not enough so that it showed in her person or her eyes; she hoped. His knowing smile sent a chill down her spine. The inclination to pull his head back by his hair and stab him in the neck with her steak knife rose as high as her urge to bring him home tonight, which was unlike her.

Anemone had too much against her right now and here Emmanuelle was...beaming at her almost triumphantly. She quelled the desire to slice his head off from his mouth by stuffing her face.

"What about you?"

"I own my own business." She stopped stuffing forkfuls of food in her mouth and lowered her fork.

"Really? That's impressive. What sort of business?" With a now highly polite wiping of her mouth with a napkin she wanted to raise an eyebrow at the eyes from other tables. Annie knew her actions proved not only her discomfort but her newness to such surroundings but she felt safer turning her back on them rather than the serial killer in front of her.

"It varies." In other words, he didn't want to tell her.

"Any good competitors?"

"The Montage Gun Corps. Heard about them?"

"Yes, I met the man heading that years back. Tough cretin of a man if I remember right. That company is in England, though, isn't it?"

"He was a tough competitor. His daughter killed him in self defense at her and her bodyguard's false funeral." Annie cranked a smile.