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Archibald swiped up at the man, but instead of the empty, chilling eyes of this new captor, he hit something solid. He sat and looked around, trying not to appear too intelligent. He didn’t need the man to think him anything more than an average cat.
There was nothing there, nothing that would suggest he wasn’t sitting on a table completely free of any cage or catnapping sack.
He swiped again, but more slowly this time. The same barrier stopped him as before, but this time, a piercing electric shock accompanied it.
He yowled in protest and glared at the man.
“Now, kitty cat. Don’t be trying that again. You’ve had two warnings, neither of which damaged you in the least, but the third one will hurt.”
Archibald curled into a ball and regarded his captor with baleful eyes. He wanted to question him but wasn’t sure if the asshole knew he could speak. He wasn’t about to give away anything, no matter how slight, that could help him escape later.
“What, nothing to say? What if I add a little incentive to loosen your tongue?”
Archibald held back a snort. Did this guy know he sounded like a bad movie villain?
His nervous amusement disappeared when the pale, oily looking man reached down and hauled Pixie up by her hair.
“Pixie?” Her name slipped out before he could stop it.
Pixie was still in human form—kind of. Her face had definite feline qualities extreme plastic surgery, makeup, or a trick of the light couldn’t explain away. Her nose was flattened and a delicate, soft-looking grey, and her ears had a definite furry point about them. When her eyes met his, he saw the slit of her pupil dilate into a wide, black circle, thinly surrounded by a field of blue.
He almost missed the look of triumph on the man’s face, but the slow, sardonic grin that appeared did not go unnoticed.
“I knew I had the right animal,” he said.
Archibald had assumed that this man was one of Pixie’s crew sent to haul him in, but the expression of fear on her face indicated his assumption had been wrong. Fear crawled down his spine, poofing his tail in an unacceptable display of emotion.
“Don’t say anything,” Pixie whispered. “Shut up, for Frigg’s sake.”
“No… Tell me everything I want to know. After all, I need to make sure I have the right magical talking cat. Don’t want to unnecessarily torture the wrong creature, do I?” The smile on the man’s face was predatory. He didn’t stop with vague torture threats, though. “A lot of cats are declawed. I think it’d be a good look for you, too. My pretty face would be safe from you, then, wouldn’t it?”
Archibald’s claws retracted into his paws at the thought of it. He’d met a few declawed cats in his time in the Santa Fe rescue waiting for Frankie, and they were all miserable. But at least they’d been anesthetized beforehand. He didn’t think tall, dark, and smarmy would bother.
Still… He might not be the legitimate guide for the First Valkyrie, but he was still her guide and her friend. He would not give her up, no matter the cost.
Archibald remained silent. He kept his gaze on Pixie, refusing to give their captor the time of day.
Out of the corner of his eye, Archibald saw the catnapper’s smile widen into a rictus of horror. “You chose the way I’d hoped. Why don’t you stay put”—he smirked—“and I’ll be right back with some pliers and a bit of gauze.”
“Gauze?” Pixie asked timidly.
“For the blood, you idiot,” the man said. “The cat’s and yours. Because no matter what form you’re in when I get back, you’ll be losing your nails, too.”
The man left the room.
Archibald glared at Pixie. “What are you playing at?”
“I don’t know who that man is!” Her face was regaining her humanity, and she looked even angrier than she had when she was reading him the list of his real and imagined sins. “He grabbed me when I stopped at a motel. It’s almost like he was watching you.”
“Don’t blame me for this. He may have snatched me—us—but he did so only after you’d done the same. Had you not catnapped me in the first place, I would be safely ensconced within the barrier at the Valkyrie’s home.”
Archibald glared at her, although he couldn’t ignore the increasing felininity of her features. If he was honest with himself, something he prided himself on being, he’d always found Pixie Sunshine to be the most attractive of cats, even though she was stuck up, self-important, judgmental, and most importantly, a catnapper.
“Your presence in this world, your arrogance, and irritatingness have probably been more than enough to inspire hostility and anger the world over,” Pixie countered. “If you don’t know him, that only speaks to the sheer number of enemies you have made by your very existence. And now, I’m caught up in whatever trouble you’ve brought on yourself.”
Not for the first time, Archibald wished he could roll his eyes. “You’re caught up in my trouble? As I pointed out, succinctly, I might add, neither of us would be here if you’d just left me alone to do my job.”
“Your job?” she scoffed. “You mean my job. And I didn’t catnap you. I apprehended a criminal to bring him to justice.”
