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on anything else.

Chapter Five
     
    I showed up at Farmer’s Restaurant a little after eight. After the night I’d had, the last thing I wanted to do was sit and chit-chat with Nain, have him poking around in my mind. I felt nauseous, still slimy, reliving the Puppeteer’s invasion of my memories.
    I walked into the restaurant, looked around, and spotted Nain in a booth across the room. A waitress came to seat me, and I pointed to Nain, headed to the table where he was sitting. He stood up as I approached.
    I sat down and ordered coffee, and Nain settled back into his seat. The aromas of coffee and frying bacon, usually two of the best scents on the planet, were doing a number on my stomach. I swallowed and tried to ignore them.
    “Have you been here before?” he asked, and I got the sense, somehow, that he was making an effort to be sociable.
    I nodded. “Yes, a few times. Good pancakes,” I said, messing with the green Jade ring on my right index finger.
    “Jade?” he asked, gesturing at the ring. I nodded.
    So, awkward silences were apparently our specialty. The waitress brought my coffee, refilled his, and took our order. Then we sat there for a few more minutes of awkward silence. Well. I felt awkward. He just seemed patient. Unnaturally patient. It was annoying. I looked at the sign on the wall next to our booth.”We’re a few eggs short of a dozen!” it said. Yeah.
    “Rough night?” Nain finally asked.
    I took a sip of my coffee, after mixing in plenty of sugar and creamer. “You could say that,” I muttered.
    “What’s wrong?”
    I shook my head. “I had a visitor last night,” I said finally. “Someone broke into my house around three.”
    He was quiet a minute. I wondered if he was reading my thoughts.
Fuck you
, I thought at him. No response at all from him.
    Finally, he said, “Are you okay?”
    I shrugged. “Sure.” I took another sip of coffee. “Have you ever heard of someone calling herself the Puppeteer?”
    “Yes. We’ve come up against her and her little army a few times. She is vile,” he said, and the disdain in his voice made me smile a little.
    “Yeah. Vile is a good word,” I said.
    “You mean she was the one who broke into your house? Not one of her puppets?”
    “I had the pleasure of meeting her face to face,” I said. “What’s her story?”
    “She takes people. Erases their thoughts and memories. And then she uses them for muscle for her crime syndicate. She’s into all kinds of evil. Drugs. Human trafficking, prostitution. Her puppets are a thoughtless, perfectly-programmed defense force.”
    “Who does she take?”
    “Whoever she can. She seems to prefer them big and strong. She prefers that they already know how to shoot or kill. Less training required that way,” Nain finished, watching me. “What happened, Molls?”
    I raised my eyebrow at the nickname, shook my head. “She had a business proposition for me.” I fiddled with the sugar packets on the table between us. “Join her. Unlimited power and luxury. Be her second in command. Own this city. Blah, blah.”
    “You said no.”
    “Obviously,” I said, glaring at him. “She wasn’t happy about that.”
    “What happened?” he asked.
    I was silent for a few seconds. Remembering. Then I shrugged. “She tried to be more persuasive,” was all I finally said.
    I felt something in my mind, and realized Nain was in there. I stood up. “That’s it. I told you to stay out of my thoughts. This was a bad idea. I’m not a people person. Just stay the hell away from me.” And then I left, stalking out and slamming the door open hard as I left the restaurant.
    Violation. Theft. Assault by psychic methods. That’s exactly what that was, and I felt my power spike with my rage. I stalked toward my car, my power practically burning through me, and I snarled when I heard heavy footsteps behind me.
    “Molly,” Nain shouted, running to catch up with me. I walked faster. So did he.
    He closed in on me,