"Aphrodite's_Flame_018" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kenner _Julie_-_[Protector_04]_-_Aphrodite's_Flame_(V1.0)_[lit](multi-file html))

Chapter Fifteen

A kitten. A tiny little ball of white fluff, and he, Hieronymous Black, was having to jump through hoops to pluck the little creature from the top of an overgrown oak tree.
Ridiculous.
Absurd.
And yet one glance at his balcony and his two little Protector babysitters made it oh-so-clear just how necessary this charade was.
He stalked up to the kitten’s owner, who was eyeing the tree dubiously even while trying to comfort a screaming brat. He stood beside her and looked up, calculating the distance to the top branch, wishing he had a few of his tools that would make retrieving the pathetic feline that much easier.
But no, this task had to be undertaken with a minimal amount of Protector skills in order to not scare mortals. It was an absurd rule, which only served to prove his point—that Protectors and mortals couldn’t interact normally. As Protectors were clearly the superior breed, mortals should simply learn to bow to their will.
At the moment, his position was not the popular one. Soon, though ... very, very soon ...
The woman’s gaze had shifted from the tree to Hieronymous, and now she was examining him with that same somewhat bewildered expression.
He did a quick mental inventory, confirmed that he was wearing the proper attire for mortals, then tilted his head in greeting. “Good afternoon, madam,” he said. Then, though it pained him to do so, he dropped to one knee and greeted the sticky-faced little brat. “And to you, too, my dear.”
The woman’s face hardened into a thick mask. “May we help you?” she said, her voice cold.
Hieronymous stood up. So much for being polite. That was the trouble with the world today; no trust, and an appalling lack of manners.
He gestured toward the tree. “I thought perhaps I could be of assistance.”
“Oh!” The woman’s features softened. “That’s very kind of you. We’d certainly appreciate it. Wouldn’t we, Amy?”
The brat stuck her thumb in her mouth and stared at Hieronymous, her eyes slightly narrowed. He had the sudden thought that the child was a much better judge of character than the mother.
“Yes, well...” He trailed off, examining the tree. Above him, the little feline mewled. He could levitate the thing, bring it gently to the ground, but a quick glance toward his apartment building confirmed that Isole and his son were watching his every move.
Minimal Protector powers, she’d said. A wholly absurd rule, considering he was trying to be readmitted to the very organization that prided itself on those powers.
Still, he couldn’t do anything to thwart his re-assimilation. He certainly wasn’t going to allow one mewling feline to destroy all his careful plotting.
No, this was a necessary first step in his plan, and he would see it through. As much as he hated it, as much as it demeaned him, he would see it through.
He’d just never expected that the first step to world domination would involve climbing a tree.

Chapter Fifteen

A kitten. A tiny little ball of white fluff, and he, Hieronymous Black, was having to jump through hoops to pluck the little creature from the top of an overgrown oak tree.
Ridiculous.
Absurd.
And yet one glance at his balcony and his two little Protector babysitters made it oh-so-clear just how necessary this charade was.
He stalked up to the kitten’s owner, who was eyeing the tree dubiously even while trying to comfort a screaming brat. He stood beside her and looked up, calculating the distance to the top branch, wishing he had a few of his tools that would make retrieving the pathetic feline that much easier.
But no, this task had to be undertaken with a minimal amount of Protector skills in order to not scare mortals. It was an absurd rule, which only served to prove his point—that Protectors and mortals couldn’t interact normally. As Protectors were clearly the superior breed, mortals should simply learn to bow to their will.
At the moment, his position was not the popular one. Soon, though ... very, very soon ...
The woman’s gaze had shifted from the tree to Hieronymous, and now she was examining him with that same somewhat bewildered expression.
He did a quick mental inventory, confirmed that he was wearing the proper attire for mortals, then tilted his head in greeting. “Good afternoon, madam,” he said. Then, though it pained him to do so, he dropped to one knee and greeted the sticky-faced little brat. “And to you, too, my dear.”
The woman’s face hardened into a thick mask. “May we help you?” she said, her voice cold.
Hieronymous stood up. So much for being polite. That was the trouble with the world today; no trust, and an appalling lack of manners.
He gestured toward the tree. “I thought perhaps I could be of assistance.”
“Oh!” The woman’s features softened. “That’s very kind of you. We’d certainly appreciate it. Wouldn’t we, Amy?”
The brat stuck her thumb in her mouth and stared at Hieronymous, her eyes slightly narrowed. He had the sudden thought that the child was a much better judge of character than the mother.
“Yes, well...” He trailed off, examining the tree. Above him, the little feline mewled. He could levitate the thing, bring it gently to the ground, but a quick glance toward his apartment building confirmed that Isole and his son were watching his every move.
Minimal Protector powers, she’d said. A wholly absurd rule, considering he was trying to be readmitted to the very organization that prided itself on those powers.
Still, he couldn’t do anything to thwart his re-assimilation. He certainly wasn’t going to allow one mewling feline to destroy all his careful plotting.
No, this was a necessary first step in his plan, and he would see it through. As much as he hated it, as much as it demeaned him, he would see it through.
He’d just never expected that the first step to world domination would involve climbing a tree.