Fifty-Nine: Greyson

My fingers tapped on the counter as I glared down at the human. She shook, and the stench of stress, fear, and onions oozed from her every pore. I wanted to get as far away from her as possible.

Her oily skin, frizzy hair, and smell attested to her poor diet. It had always amazed me how many chemicals humans put in their foods to replace fresh ingredients. It was no wonder they were always sick or dying.

"This is your specialty, is it not?" I growled, and she shrank back as she heard the displeasure in my tone.

"I just handle the sales. Like I said earlier, our tech team should be back from lunch shortly," She gestured over her shoulder with her thumb to the back room.

My claws extended, and my nails clicked loudly against the hard surface as I took several deep breaths. She had been saying that for two hours, practically begging me to come back another time. I had the feeling this would be her last day of work at this establishment, and if I did come back, someone else would be forced