Cat Sì

Chapter One

In Which I Meet a Police Officer

"Welcome to Grimm's Bar," I said in a well-rehearsed American accent. My name is Ainsley Aithne (my family loves the alliteration), and I was a bartender here while trying to get my doctorate. For some reason I had this silly idea that I could actually be a great success, despite the fact that I was constantly hiding something about myself. I'm a Cat Sì, a Scottish and Irish werecat of sorts. In my cat form I'm black with a white spot on my chest, and most humans fear me. To other creatures, though, I make the best drinks in the city.

Grimm's Bar was just the way it sounded; a safe haven for any creature straight out of a storybook or mythology to have a drink and transform in some peace. Occasionally a human came here, but they were usually driven away by the drink choices before they could notice how off this place was in the first place. I don't blame them; in my whole life I have never actually tasted anything I've served; I was more or less pushed away.

"Officer Evan Ryans, FTPD," the man said, showing me his badge. "I received a complaint saying that there was a man in here that was drunk and disorderly."

"Roi dis way, officair," I said, reverting back to my traditional accent as I showed him the creature that was weeping in the corner about how horrible his life was. "'e's 'eadin' through de foive stages av grief roi in 'ere," I pointed out. When he came in he was fine, then threatening to fight with anybody who offered, trying to give me all his money to "make his life better", and now he was here.

"Yer don't 'av ter get 'im if yer don't want ter," I said. "'e'll accept it soon enoof."

Suddenly the man stood up on a table and waved a gun.

"Yeah, he's accepting it all right," Officer Ryans said.