CHAPTER 9: First Meeting
Plato looked around carefully. Alonzo was on duty. Victoria was off somewhere…probably with that pipsqueak, Mistoffelees. Demeter was safe at home with Munkustrap. No-one was about. Plato stealthily crossed to Cassandra and Alonzo's den and rapped twice.
"Come on," came a lilting voice.
Plato gulped and entered the den.
"Well, hello, there." Cassandra was stretched across the bed, smirking.
Plato resisted the urge to gag and instead shut the door behind him, stalking in silently.
"Come now, Plato, at least say hello. This is going to be very unpleasant if we can't be at least civil about it."
"Hello, Cassandra," Plato said begrudgingly.
"Could have been said more civilly, but I suppose it will have to do." She gestured to the bed. "Have a seat."
Plato slowly moved over to the bed and cautiously perched on the very edge, looking as if he were about to fall off.
"We might as well start immediately, hmmm?" Cassandra moved up behind him and ran an elegant paw over his chest.
Plato suddenly felt sick, but tried to block it out of his mind. He knew that if he didn't perform to Cassandra's liking tonight, there was a good chance she would forget their 'business arrangement'.
As Cassandra moved even closer and lightly grazed her teeth over Plato's shoulder, Plato shivered in sheer disgust. Cassandra, however, took it to be a shiver of anticipation, and, smirking, kissed his throat. This was all too easy.
Plato closed his eyes, wishing he were anywhere in the yard but there. Anywhere in the world but there. Heck, he'd even prefer to be in outer-space! But, unfortunately, he was stuck there.
And Cassandra knew it. She took advantage of the situation perfectly to get what she wanted. She always did, so there was no way this was going to be an exception. Cassandra laughed inwardly. Victim One: Plato. Victim Two: Mistoffelees. Who would be Victim Three?
Repulsed by his – and particularly Cassandra's – actions that night, Plato dived into the cold river. He had to get her smell off him. He had to scrub himself of her dirtiness. He didn't know how long he would be able to keep this up, but he knew one thing for certain: he wouldn't be able to look Demeter in the eye the next day. And he would never be able to look at Alonzo the same way again. Why the hell would Alonzo mate with someone like Cassandra? Sure, she was attractive, but…how could Alonzo not know about her rotten personality? Or was he like her? Plato shivered to think that he may not know his brother as well as he thought.
Plato splashed up to the surface, not only still feeling dirty, but now freezing cold to go with it. He groaned. Would he ever feel clean again?
