“What are you doing here, Quill?” I asked. “And how did you get in?”
That made her laugh. “Oh, these mortals. Always asking questions with obvious answers. I’m here because I heard exciting things were happening.” She looked around, her gaze falling on the rat cage against one wall. “And it looks like the rumors are true. Who are your little friends?”
She drifted closer to the cage, one hand coming up to brush against the knob that opened the cage door. For a moment, I was afraid she might eat them or something—Quill always seemedvaguely threatening, although I’d never actually seen her do anything super evil or scary—but she merely leaned close to the cage and studied the rats. When she was done, she straightened up with a cluck of her tongue. “Oh, mortal. Always biting off more than you can chew.”
That felt a little insulting. Sure, I was new to rat ownership. But they wererats. I mean, people paid hundreds and even thousands of dollars to exterminators to kill unwanted rats in their homes. If it cost thousands of dollars to get rid of them, how hard could just keeping them alive be?
“You’ve made your point, Quill,” Horst said.
“Oh, but I haven’t.” She spun around to face us, the fabric of her voluminous ice-blue skirt brushing against the cage. Tilbippo, her weasel, made a sticky chuckling sound. “I also came to see if you needed any assistance, puppy. With, say, old friends?”
“I definitely don’t need your help.” Horst had managed to edge his way between me and Quill again, but I could still see the way her face broke into a delighted smile.
“Of course. You have everything under control. I’ll just leave you to enjoy your new...rats.”
And with a regal nod, she swept out of the café. Horst took a deep breath, the tension leaking from his shoulders as he turned to face me.
“What did she mean? About old friends?” I asked, searching his face.
“She likes to throw stuff at the wall and see what sticks.” He stepped closer, reaching out and settling one hand on my hip. “Now, where were we?”
It turned out where we were was going upstairs to my apartment to finish what we’d started. Which was almost distracting enough to make me forget all about Quill’s weird visit.
Almost.
Chapter Nine
I’m not saying Quill is bad luck, but she certainly had a knack for showing up just before disaster struck. Which, as Horst explained to me, was why she came—she really, really loved chaos. The last time she’d appeared on my doorstep was shortly before Horst tried to steal a locket, one of the few things I had left from my sister Destiny, a misunderstanding that wound up almost getting both of us killed.
So was I a little nervous about what her appearance at the café meant?
Sure.
Did I tell myself it was all in my head?
Of course.
Did I imagine all manner of terrible events going down in my café until I had to ground myself—repeatedly—using Roger’s five senses method?
You bet.
But then...nothing happened. Everything was fine. I mean, sure, Cupcake still seemed sad and listless, and she had pretty much holed up in the litter box I’d supplied them, leaving it only to get food and water. But as Horst pointed out, she was a rat. Perhaps that was what some rats were like.
So, no, disaster didn’t strike.
