Wow, I'm a couple of days late, but life has decided to make me extremely busy. That being said, I apologize for the late upload and I hope y'all enjoy it!

Also, a quick shout out to everyone who favored and followed this story! I'm glad y'all are liking it so far and continue to like it as the chapters come and go! Please enjoy the next chapter and I'll see y'all in about two weeks!

~Delyth

Chapter One

A Brief Encounter

Dusk was long gone, and the café was quiet except for a middle-aged monkey sitting near the door who sipped lazily from his coffee mug. His hands shook slightly as he held the cup to his lips, the expensive porcelain trembled and sloshed the hot liquid over the side of its white shell. Blue-gray eyes flicked from side of the street to the other, toward the exit of the café, and the few employees who were getting ready to close its doors for the night.

Despite the late hour, they allowed him to sit in the café while they cleaned and prepared for the next day. He'd been sitting in the same spot, attempting to calm his nerves with coffee, for over four hours, and yet the golden-brown furred monkey could fidget nervously with his hands. There was a reason why he was so nervous, and Thomas had long since lost his calm after receiving word from the Klaww Gang that they'd hired a new…enforcer. The last one had failed to complete his task and tie up loose ends after the job in Cairo, Egypt. Thomas hadn't been there when the job had gone down, but rumor had it that while they successfully retrieved the Clockwerk parts, their enforcer had been sloppy after the heist. As a result, the heads of the Klaww Gang decided that having someone who couldn't handle a simple job like that had no right to be a member nor worth the pay.

Thomas swallowed, pulling at his shirt collar again, and attempted to take another sip from his mug. Even though he was supposed to meet with the guy to tell him about his duties and his first job, Thomas was no fool. Most of their enforcers were hard, coldblooded killers who'd gladly turn on those who paid them to slaughter and assassinate their targets. He only had a name and a brief description of what they looked like, but he still twitched at every sound the workers made while they finished. If this guy didn't hurry up then Thomas would have to leave the report to Arpeggio or—he shuddered—Rajan about his failure to meet up with their enforcer.

"Don't worry, guys, I'll lock the doors and clean this dude's mug." A panther, sleek and black with violet eyes, called out to his co-workers with a smile. He was tall and lean like most felines with long, athletic legs that were more than capable of leaping over long distances. The café's khaki uniform didn't fit the color of his fur right, but his current appearance didn't seem to bother him at all as he locked the doors his co-workers left through.

Without a word, he walked across the room to the other double-sided doors to slide the deadbolt into place. Thomas could barely control his trembling now and didn't dare pick up his cup after meeting those depthless violet eyes. He'd never seen a panther with that shade of purple before—most of them had variations of green or hazel. As the black panther stalked toward his table, Thomas tried to control his breathing and gather what very little calm he had left so he could speak without gasping like a fish out of water. Thomas watched as the male grabbed the chair from across him and twirled it expertly around so he could straddle it. Behind the panther, his tail swayed slowly back and forth, which only made the monkey more apprehensive the longer the predator stared at him.

Finally, Thomas found his voice to ask, "Am I…am I speaking to Slicer?"

Amused, the panther grinned, showing off his sharp fangs that almost made Thomas's heart stop. "Yeah, that'd be me. You can call me Darius if you'd like."

Thomas nodded slowly as he reached for the suitcase he'd brought with him containing important documents for his assignment and information on where he would live once he relocated. "The boss wanted you to read over these—they have all the information you need to complete your job and where you'll be staying while working. I was also told to mention you are to protect both Dimitri and his part of Clockwerk from any thieves who might attempt to steal them. You'll find out more once you read the documents."

"Does that include using deadly force if necessary?" Those violet eyes gleamed with bloodlust and Thomas tried to hide his shudder by coughing.

"The boss said, 'by any means necessary.' He doesn't want it to be messy though—so, keep the kill quiet and out of the media."

Darius nodded, his eyes still gleaming brightly in the dark. "Very well. I'll do my part as long as they pay me." He stood up from the chair, grabbing both the suitcase and half-full mug of coffee from the table with grace. "Why don't you go run along then, eh? Don't want anyone to start wondering why the two of us are still in here."

Thomas stood up from his chair as well and tentatively walked around the table toward the only exit that Darius hadn't locked. He didn't look back as he heard the sink running from the kitchen and he nearly ran down the street toward his car if it weren't for what remained of his self-control. Darius knew he was frightening and intimidating when he tried, he could smell Thomas's fear, but even so, the monkey wanted to have at least some dignity.

If it weren't for the nature of his job and how long he'd been handing practical death warrants or security details to enforcers like Darius, then he'd feel guilty for it. Instead, all he could be thankful for was that it wasn't his head he was practically throwing on a silver platter for the Slicer.

I'd hate to cross paths with him over some dumb Clockwerk parts. My life is worth more than that old metal bird's organs and shit. Thomas started his car and floored it in the opposite direction of his apartment—he couldn't risk the chance that Darius might decide to kill the messenger since he'd seen his identity. Even so, he wouldn't leave the Klaww Gang no matter what happened to him because the money was beyond worth it.

~o~

Despite the dark streets and the threat of a possible mugging, Jazlyn continued down the sidewalk with barely a care for the world. She'd long since forgotten what it was like to truly be afraid after three years of living on the streets and thieving in order to survive. Her footsteps were ghostlike as she passed over a flickering light pole, and Jazlyn pushed her paws further into the pockets of her raggedy fur hoodie. She'd have to get a new one soon if she didn't want to look too suspicious whenever she talked to trusting tourists asking for directions or to take a picture of them together.

At first, she'd been so surprised out easy it was to pick-pocket and scam trusting, oblivious tourists or Parisians. She slowly gained confidence the more she pick-pocketed and stole until she began to rob small department stores of food, clothes, or electronics. There were also rare occurrences when she'd delve into more dangerous thieving by staking out small businesses that sold expensive antiques or, if she was lucky, art painted by a famous artist. Those types of jobs were always very risky and one false move or an error that could lead the authorities back to her, and she'd be done.

Despite the dangerous and dark path she chose after running away, Jazlyn didn't regret anything. She'd left a note for Ms. Fowle on the old owl's desk in her house before leaving their little suburban area for the sparkling streets of Paris. There was still a little bit of guilt for running without giving her only connection to her parents a formal goodbye, but Ms. Fowle wouldn't approve of what she was doing at all. And, she certainly wouldn't agree with her form of living now—she'd always had strong morals about stealing or murder. She used to tell Jazlyn that stealing or killing other mammals was never the right way to live because those criminals had given into dangerous instincts that only brought chaos or heartbreak to others. There was never a time Jazlyn ever thought she'd be stealing in order to make a living, but she didn't feel any different—not like the criminals Ms. Fowle had always condemned as insane mammals who'd lost their sense of self. If anything, Jazlyn only felt more alive the more she thieved and lived on the edge of being caught by authorities.

In order to stay under the radar, the snow leopardess found a way to sell her loot safely without it backtracking to her. She'd only been searching for ways to sell the items she'd stolen without the police realizing they had a way to track her down. Her loot had been safely secured in a small empty and abandoned warehouse she'd watched and patiently waited for weeks before deciding it was safe. She wasn't going to risk anyone finding her secret treasure and kept them hidden in a small compartment the teenager had made with the help of a shovel, lumber, and lots of old debris. She knew she couldn't keep it there forever and after months had passed in her first year as a thief, Jazlyn finally found a site that would ensure not only her safety but any customers who were interested. ThiefNet literally saved her starving ass and kept her from being found out.

She had a few contacts within the ThiefNet community that she'd chat with every now and again. It didn't matter how often they opened with small talk and pleasantries, Jazlyn and her fellow thieves eventually talked about their latest heists—what could've been different, exchanging ideas to fix mistakes, and most of all, a chance to learn new skills. There was a reason why she kept to smaller heists rather than the more elaborate and (in)famous heists some of her "friends" did. After all, the teenager was a novice when it came to hacking security systems and she didn't have two or three more mammals to give her a helping hand or watch her back. She was completely on her own, but despite how lonely that sounded, Jazlyn wasn't that bothered by it anymore. It was better to be alone, she'd decided after running away, than face ridicule and pain for who she was deep down.

Jazlyn shook her head and chuckled to herself. How she'd change in the last three years since converting to this lifestyle. Already, she knew that even if she was eventually caught, Jazlyn would never give up this new life she created for herself. Maybe it was selfish or foolish, but she didn't care. Even though she has nothing to be ashamed of, Jazlyn wonders if her parents are looking down on her from heaven in mild disappointment at what their daughter is doing.

Her legs continued down the street—completely on autopilot as she made her back to the warehouse. She shrugged her hoodie closer to her shoulders, a chilly breeze cutting through her thick silver and caramel spotted fur despite the fact her species were built for the cold, bitter winds of the northern mountains. Even snow leopards like Jazlyn are capable of feeling chilly whenever the weather was cold enough. The weather in Paris wasn't stifling or freezing, but the summer winds were beginning to change as winter neared. She was still able to wear her shorts and long-sleeved shirt underneath her hoodie at night without much issue, and during the day, the snow leopardess would tie the jacket around her waist.

The polished and well-kept streets of the main districts in Paris faded to worn cobbled and pot-holed covered paths. Street lamps once brightly lit were now barely hanging on to fight the growing darkness of the night as they flickered weakly. Tall abandoned buildings once the homes and small businesses of Parisians who'd taken a like to the working old district during the late seventies. Hippies and other mammals wanting a chance to live away from the riots over the Vietnam War, so they moved to a quiet district that had fewer buildings and more land for their children. Jazlyn often wondered what this place used to look like in its heyday before everything crumbled.

There were parts of the abandoned, broken streets that were difficult to cross and Jazlyn preferred a much faster route than walking through the old district once she was away from wandering eyes. The last thing she needed was someone seeing her flipping, jumping, and running along the rooftops. It was better to be a ghost in the wind—fading into the crowds and disappearing from more observant eyes.

She took a deep breath to calm her heart as it instantly began to speed up in anticipation and excitement. Her left leg stepped back slightly in preparation for her first jump to a stable though rusty fence. Emerald eyes brightened as she burst forward with speed, the muscles in her legs bulging as she leapt onto the fence and began to run toward the fire escape to the nearest rooftop. Her feet were confident as they continued on the narrow surface of the fence pole—she'd walked on far much narrower surfaces and often times she was thankful all the practice spent on balance in dance class. Without pausing in her careful jog, Jazlyn leapt onto the fire escape and began to climb her way up to the roof. Her breathing was still smooth if a little faster than normal as her excitement began to overtake her. She'd always enjoyed what little parkour she knew and learned since beginning her thieving career.

Strong winds beat against her face as she stood on the rooftop and she closed her eyes at the feel of such freedom. Her hair fluttered against her back and her tail swished behind her as she took stride again. Laughter bubbled up in her throat as she leapt across the distance between the apartment building and the next with ease. She picked up speed and decided that showing off a little wouldn't hurt as the teenager ran along the side of the entrance to the roof from the building. Her legs met empty air after running out of brick wall and she flipped to the side to land on an old satellite with a grin. She pushed off it and started a somersault toward the next leap over another roof. At the last second, Jazlyn straightened and pushed off the side of the roofing with an elated crow of delight.

Man, she'd missed feeling like the world was off her shoulders and she could simply fly far away.

By the time she reached the warehouse, it was well past midnight and she still had to make sure the next shipment of goods was polished and checked thoroughly for any damage. It wasn't required on her part on most occasions, but she found that her clients appreciated her thoroughness when sending stolen goods across borders. In any case, she wouldn't be able to stake out her next possible heist until that was finished first. She landed on the rickety metal slats that acted as the roof for the warehouse and carefully made her way to the makeshift entrance. There was a hole just wide enough for her to fit through without the sharp edges of the metal scratching into her fur. She dropped down to an old cargo box with ease and began to descend from the staircase she'd made.

Her feet thumped lightly on the dusty floor and paused, her ears perking and swiveling along her head. She swished her tail back and forth in agitation, her senses not picking up whatever it was that had tipped her off. There was something wrong—something out of place or a scent that wasn't supposed to be here. Jazlyn sniffed the air, her eyes shutting to concentrate, and she shifted through the familiar smells of rust, mildew, dust, and old trash leftover from rambunctious teenagers. Amongst all these scents was one that definitely didn't belong here and her spine straightened, her lip curled in a snarl, and involuntarily, her claws descended from their sheaths.

She resisted the urge to growl in frustration as she stalked quietly around her territory. There was a tiny sound—a mere whisper really—from the far side of the warehouse where she hid her prized possessions and loot. The snow leopardess's green eyes sharpened in the dark as she weaved through the various debris littering the floor expertly, and Jazlyn stayed hidden within the deepest of shadows, avoiding the sliver of moonlight from holes in the dilapidated metal slats. There was a reason why she'd made sure no one was interested in this place and it was months before she decided the place suitable for her needs. She'd been thorough as any rookie thief could be and the fact someone had possibly stumbled upon it seriously pissed her off—this was hers. This old warehouse had become a home to her—a center of operations and safehouse when she needed to lay low for a while.

For this mammal (or mammals, she couldn't be sure as how many were here yet) to invade her home like this—Jazlyn bit back another snarl as she grew closer to the voice. And it was clear to her now that it was only one mammal here, a male gray raccoon who seemed to be talking to someone else through a pair of binoculars? She shook her head clear of the confusion swirling in her mind at that fact and stalked around another row of boxes to get a closer look. He was dressed in a bright blue shirt with gold trimming along the collar that matched the scheme of his gloves. On his head was a well-worn and faded royal blue cap that sat firmly between his ears. She couldn't make out his facial features due to the large binoculars blocking her view, but even without that, Jazlyn knew that this wasn't any run of the amok kids causing trouble or some thug. No, with his lean physique and muscles well-honed from climbing, running, and no doubt thieving, she knew she was dealing with a possible pro. Based on what little she could see, Jazlyn deducted that the male standing before her with golden-tipped curved cane in hand was none other than the infamous Sly Cooper.

The Coopers were a long line of thieves who spread out all over the world, wreaking havoc and stealing as much as they pleased. They were notorious for their crimes throughout the centuries and it was any law enforcement's dream to be put a Cooper in the slammer. However, the Cooper line was never caught or found after their retirement, but there was always another Cooper ready to bring forth another generation of thieving and mischief. Jazlyn had heard countless stories about the Cooper family from several clients and the connections she'd created over the three since becoming a part of this life. She'd been interested in the tales—the marks on history they'd made despite being a bunch of criminals. Countless times she'd wondered what it'd be like to actually meet a Cooper, but never in her wildest dreams did she think she'd meet one like this.

Ears flattening along her head in growing irritation, Jazlyn eyed the surrounding area for her fu tao swords and nearly groaned when she realized they were right fucking behind him. Why'd she leave them here like a damn idiot? God, she was gonna have to rethink her organization skills as well as her ability to pack other weapons. Oh, well. Claws it is then.

She lowered herself further in her crouch, shifting along the floor until her body was angled right behind him for a pounce. A snow leopard could lay still for hours if she needed to wait for the right time to take down her prey.

"There's a lot of equipment around here, Bentley. Someone's had to have stayed here if not recently then for a long time." The raccoon pointed the binoculars toward her work table that held her precious laptop (stolen, of course), a lock-picking kit, various blueprints of buildings and floor plans that held her notes of security rounds, and her fu tao swords that she treasured. Also known as "tiger hook swords", the fu tao sword is similar to the jian in terms of the blade's length and sharp edge, but instead of ending in the typical tip like a normal sword, the fu tao has a curved-pronged hook. The hilt guard of a fu tao is shaped after the crescent moon with a sharp edge guard used for not only blocking but also slashing the attacker. White ribbons were attached to the end of the hilt and fluttered restlessly on the edge of the table as if sensing her anxiety.

Sly Cooper angled his head toward the lone floorboard that Jazlyn had repaired then camouflaged it to appear like the rest of the surrounding ground. Her shoulders tensed as his focus remained there for much longer than she'd like. "I think I may have found something here, guys. There might be something under there."

If he'd turned his head to look over his shoulder, he'd definitely see her glowing emerald eyes piercing him down. Daring him to even think about going near her loot and steal from her. Again, she had swallow a growl from bursting pass her lips as she shifted her position to accommodate his new location. He seemed to be listening to this Bentley or whoever else was on the strange communication device he was using before replying with a devilish grin, "Well, if it's just a stowaway for drugs then we can just take them off their hands and give a tip to the authorities. After all, we are modern respectful citizens, aren't we?"

Drugs?! He thinks I'm hiding fucking drugs like some damn drug lord? That's it. Her claws dug painfully into her palms as they fisted and her teeth glinted menacingly in the darkness of the shadow she hid in. She was going to make him eat fucking dirt.

Jazlyn would only have one shot at this, otherwise, she'd have to fight a more skilled fighter than her. If she missed, then she'd have to get to her fu tao swords in some way so she could dodge Cooper's signature cane. It'd be a quick fight if he smacked her in the head or any other vital areas. She bit her lip in nervous anticipation before taking a silent breath in, her muscles relaxing at the same time, then quick as a snake striking, Jazlyn sprung forward.

She made no sound as she traveled weightless to the unaware raccoon who was telling his accomplices some stupid joke about being involved with gangs. At the last minute, Jazlyn decided to retract her claws a little so she wouldn't slice his shoulders to pieces and braced for impact. She slammed perfectly into his back, causing him to lose grip of his binoculars and cane as he yelped in surprise. Instinctively, the teenager locked her claws down on her prey's shoulders, forcing her entire body weight into pinning him to the floor with a rumbling growl.

Her snow-colored locks fell from their confines completely and framed her sharp features in a white curtain as she leaned down to whisper menacingly in the raccoon's ear, "Stop struggling and listen, Cooper."

Despite her claws digging into his shoulders and her knee locking his spine into a position that could easily be broken if she put enough weight on it, the male raccoon fought against her hold. She'd learned martial arts and defensive maneuvers by watching videos online or tips from her ThiefNet associates, but he had more experience in fighting back than she did. Her blood boiled with an anger she hadn't felt since that day and while she was frightened of herself, Jazlyn held firm and waited until he stopped moving around like a fish out of water.

She blew her bangs out of her eyes and pushed her knee further into his spine, making him stiffen and squirm uncomfortably. "I don't want to hurt you, but I will defend my home from intruders and other thieves."

"So, you're the drug dealer? By the sound of your voice, you've definitely got other jobs as well, right?" He chuckled a little breathlessly and it took everything she had not to sink her claws further into his flesh. "Must not be paying as much if you're livin' in a dump like this."

"Why the fuck do you keep assuming I'm a member of some gang? Don't have any gang tattoos or brands on my ass, Cooper." Any attempts to keep her voice even and not sounding like a near homicidal maniac failed instantly. Oh, well. Screw first impressions.

The male attempted to turn his head so he could look over his shoulder at her, but he only succeeded in tweaking his neck. Cooper winced, "Okay, if you're not a gangbanger, then what're you doing out here?"

She rolled her eyes heavenward and prayed for patience with this guy. "Look, I'll let you up so you can tell your buddies to chill the hell out—they're very loud right now—as long as you don't decide to attack me. Deal?"

"Doesn't look like I have much of a choice, huh, Spots?"

Jazlyn refused to reply as she released her hold on him and backed up until she was within easy reach of her fu tao swords. Her eyes watched him warily pick himself off the dusty ground and take note of the deep gauges in his shoulders that were bleeding into his blue shirt. While she felt a little guilty about hurting him, she refused to show that it bothered her and watched as he slowly turned around to look at her.

Dark eyes a shade shy from chocolate brown met her bright emerald gaze with a spark of mischief and curiosity. Their eyes remained locked for a solid minute, his penetrating stare taking every part of her body in—from her old shoes to the muscular legs and arms to her long, bushy tail until finally they returned to her face. She took her time taking in his features—even under the dark mask, she could see the signature black mask-like fur over his eyes, and his cheeks were defined with his gray fur stretching outward. His cap was slightly eschewed, revealing a tuff of wild hair sticking up underneath, and his lips pulled into a smirk that reminded Jazlyn of the Cheshire Cat's sly grin when he was about to play another trick.

He whistled appreciatively with that same sly smirk on his face and she tried to keep her cheeks from burning off her fur. How dare he—! "You're no member of a gang alright. Mind telling me the name of the woman who pinned me down?"

She swiveled her ears toward the frantic voices coming from his strange binoculars and raised a single brow at him. "Answer your buddies before they have a heart attack."

Cooper's grin merely widened as he turned to pick up both his cane and communicator, which he promptly placed on his face and directed it toward her. Jazlyn's tail swished behind her in agitation and she folded her arms as she rested all her weight on one leg. Not a good fighting stance if he decided to attack, but she'd take the risk for now.

"I'm okay, guys. Just got taken out by the house owner for a bit. She's got amean grip, Bentley." He kept his attention focused on her much to her annoyance and slight embarrassment—she didn't want anyone to know she was the up-and-coming thief in Paris, but even so, she didn't think the Cooper gang would turn her in. Hopefully. Cooper answered whatever Bentley asked with a wide smile, "No, she didn't hurt me too bad, but I wouldn't want to fight her if she can sneak around like a ninja."

With that comment, he paused and asked her, "You're not secretly a ninja, are you?"

Jazlyn sighed, "No. My kind are known for being the ghosts of a mountain because we're so quiet. We practically blend in with our surroundings."

She tilted her head, watching him more intently now as she realized her mild slip up and the fact that he'd gone completely silent. The snow leopardess shifted her weight to the other side, allowing her fingers to brush one of the ribbons to her fu tao swords.

"Since you obviously know my name, Spots," her ears twitched at the nickname in annoyance, "Mind telling me yours now?"

"And if I don't want to tell you my name?" Jazlyn balanced out her weight between her legs and watched him carefully—one wrong move and she'd grab her swords before he could even raise his cane to swipe at her.

Cooper put the binoculars in a red pouch attached to his left leg and rested his cane on his shoulder. "Look, I'm not going to hurt you or anything, Spots. Just wanna know the woman who'd pinned me down like it was child's play."

She snorted, "Yeah, right. I'm sure you've already got someone lookin' up info on me based on my facial structure and spot patterns. So, what's the point?"

He took a step toward her, slow and cautious, like he was attempting to tame a wild animal. She nearly scoffed at the irony of it and glared in warning when he took another step. The raccoon was only three steps away from touching her, and Jazlyn tried to get her panicking mind under control, so she could act rational. At her hesitancy to take action against him, Cooper continued forward until he was within arm's reach. Her fingers twitched nervously at her side, the ribbon wrapping around her hand, but she didn't pull it towards her. Instead, Jazlyn allowed the ringtail to lean toward her with one of his hands already touching her upper arm.

Just what is he doing? No, wait, what the hell am I doing?!

Despite herself, she flinched away from his face and those smoldering eyes as he gazed into hers. She tried to hide her trembling and demanded her hand to fucking move away from his touch, but she remained ramrod straight. His breath fanned across her cheeks, making her breath hitch slightly at the mesmerizing scent, and there was that cursed smirk stretching across his muzzle.

"I want to hear you say it—you're not some thug and I'd rather not invade your privacy like that on the first date."

The eighteen-year-old snow leopardess blinked at him wordlessly for a moment. He was just so close and in all her life, she'd never experienced this kind of attention from a male before. Not unless it was for some kind of heartless joke or a father figure leaning down to kiss her on the forehead and that had been a long time ago. Why should she give this confident, arrogant ringtail her name? What makes him any different than the other thieves who she'd given aliases to for years? There was not an ounce of trust in her for Cooper and why should she? 'Not wanting to invade her privacy,' her ass! Coming into her headquarters and snooping around like he owned the damn place? Possibly planning how he could rob her blind while trying to figure out who was living here?

No, Sly Cooper didn't deserve her name. Finally broken from whatever spell he placed on her, Jazlyn said, "You're doing a fine job of that, Cooper." She shoved him away with her right paw while her fingers finally tugged on the ribbon attached to her fu tao sword and brought the hilt to her awaiting palm. "Shall we review? You entered into my home, snooped around like the little thief you are, and I saw the look in your eye when you saw what little I had. Not wanting to step over my personal boundaries?"

Cooper held his hands up as the tiger's crook was leveled at his throat and Jazlyn took a step forward as she brought the other half of her fu tao pair together. Forced to stumble away if he didn't want the sharp metal of her blade near his jugular, the gray raccoon pulled his cane into a semi-defensive position as Jazlyn continued in a low growl, "Talk about an empty promise, Cooper. You don't deserve to learn my name through me—go ahead, have your tech guy or whoever you were talking to dig around for my info. For now, you can call me Ghost. Now," Fiery green eyes narrowed in warning, "get the hell out."

He appeared conflicted for a brief second, unsure of whether he should try to talk her down or not, but in the end, Cooper walked backwards until he was nearing the exit to her work station. Those dark eyes followed her every move as she watched him make his way toward the metaphorical door. She watched him pause at the edge of the shipping crates, and after a small battle with himself, Cooper reached into the pouch attached to his thigh and tossed something little and metallic at her. Instinctively, Jazlyn switched one fu tao into her other paw to catch it and she blinked at the tiny earwig.

"In case you want to talk. Just put it in and press lightly on it—one of us will eventually answer." With that, the infamous Sly Cooper vanished around the corner of wooden crates and she listened until his footsteps didn't echo in the warehouse.

The air left her lungs in a long whoosh as she finally relaxed now that the potential danger was gone. And Sly Cooper was indeed a dangerous mammal if he could put her in some kind of trance. She took a deep breath and glanced down at the earwig he'd given her to keep in contact and whoever was working with him. Why bother giving her something she'd probably never use anyway? Jazlyn scoffed, turning toward her worktable and placing both her weapons and the earwig on the beaten wooden surface. As if she'd ever want to talk to him again—not after the violation she had to bear.

"Maybe I should put more defenses around the warehouse?" She shook her head with a frown, "No, that'll be suspicious even to mammals who don't come down here that often anymore."

Sighing, Jazlyn took stock of her stolen merchandise before finishing her pre-checks for the artwork and other minor treasures to be sent off tomorrow night. The last thing she wanted to focus on was her brief encounter with Sly Cooper—she had her own job and thieving to do without focusing on him and his smug smirk.

She ran her fingers through her hair in a loud groan and banged her head on the table. Could she not go one fucking minute without that raccoon in her head? Maybe she should leave Paris while he was in town? The snow leopardess banged her head against the hard surface of her worktable again, rattling the contents, and cursed under her breath with a snarl.