Page 25 of Whiskers on Kittens

With wide eyes, I asked, “Was there something wrong with the idea?”

“That’s the one circumstance I simply can’t argue with. You want to be a modern-day Robin Hood, and you’re targeting the worst of the worst our society has to offer.”

Ah. I understood his frustration. How so very dare me for doing something utterly evil in such a good way? “You can help.”

“I’m going to lose my job over this, aren’t I?”

I shook my head. “I highly doubt it. Angels don’t put people in that position when they are working their acts of good—and we’re being tasked with helping them. If you do get fired, it’s only because you have a better job on the horizon. You might get bumped to the CDC or FBI. Remember what the judge said? You’re being asked to walk the line, and that’s not the talk of someone intending to get you fired. I think they want to move you up in the world, and they can’t with all those excessive goody-goody tendencies kicking around. But don’t worry. Exposure to me should at least dull the edges and numb you to the reality of being a little naughty for the sake of doing good.”

“You consider robbing houses just a little naughty?”

“A lot naughty would be doing it while naked. I mean, I’m going to be a lot naughty, but I won’t be naked while doing it. I’m going to pretend I’m a mobster with a bad reputation and make it so she’s my fall woman. Normally, I fess up to my crimes quite willingly, but when the devil in charge of ruin suggests I bring this bitch down, I’m bringing her down. She sold her own child into trafficking. She goes down—and then I’m hunting for her daughter, making sure she gets out of the system, and into loving hands capable of helping her. That’s my project for next year. Rescuing the kittens is my task for this year. Fixing as much of the damage this ring has done is next year’s work. Also, we’re going to be guilty of numerous counts of kidnapping.”

“We’re what?” Easton growled.

I grinned at the fury in his tone. “We’re going to be guilty of numerous counts of kidnapping.”

“No.”

“They’re trafficking victims in dire need of rescue, but they’re not going to cooperate, so I’m going to kidnap them.”

Easton’s eyes narrowed, and he regarded me with open suspicion. After a few minutes, he growled, “Fine.”

Excellent. The wolf had some sense and a willingness to use his brain more than his goody-goody heart. Given a full month with me, I might even have him joining me for some harmless pranks that wouldn’t show up on his record. “We won’t get charged. Apparently, it’s not kidnapping if we’re rescuing them from being trafficked. We just won’t be in a position to ask for their permission. I’ll be using the magical equivalent of an ether-soaked rag to make sure everyone comes along quietly.”

“Where are you getting that?”

“The Devil.”

Heaving a sigh, Easton raised his hand and rubbed at his left temple. “I went to bed and you did what?”

“I had dinner with the Devil and Belial, acquired useful information, and earned us a target to get more information. Apparently, I would be stricken with guilt if I couldn’t rescue as many as possible on this trip, so I have been gifted a bag where I will send anything I want straight to hell. I’ll keep the money, the people will get taken care of, and I might just clean these bastards out of everything they own so they come back to a spotless home with nothing in it. I’ll steal their fucking dust.”

If Easton’s eyes widened any further, I worried they might pop out of his head. “You can’t really do that, can you?”

“Watch me.”

NINE

“You’re some form of spotted menace, I see.”

Once I got an idea in my head, I had a terrible tendency of following through. As we couldn’t act until we learned more, I ordered enough food to feed both of us, careful to make sure I got an appropriate amount for myself and extra desserts to sustain the big, bad wolf.

Well, he might become a big, bad wolf with sufficient training, but I determined I had a soft, fluffy puppy who lived for praise and positive attention. I could only assume I had been a very naughty kitty to deserve a soft, fluffy puppy, but I’d work on an exhaustive training regime to bring him out of his shell.

Or out of his clothes. I’d conquer the clothes problem first, which my virus heartily approved of.

I devoured my lunch in record time, washed my hands, and went to work reviewing the profiles of the bastards I would be clearing out. As I’d gotten the Devil’s number out of him, I shot him a text inquiring if I could just steal all the contents out of their homes for examination on our terms.

His confirmation my plan would work amused me so much I giggled through the address acquisition portion of my day, which involved confirming at least eight of my targets lived on the same street. Some additional research indicated my kidnapping targets lived in the properties next door and that the traffickers used the properties to train their latest victims.

Why else would there be entire houses loaded with women between houses filled with mobsters out to profit from them?

All in all, I would have to rob fifteen homes, and judging from the surveillance photos Lucifer provided, I would have thirty-seven young girls and women ranging between the ages of six and twenty to kidnap, relocate to hell, and release following rehabilitation.

The number angered me so much my virus took over, I shifted, and attacked the stack of papers, sending the whole lot to the floor. I hissed, slapped the offensive sheets with my paws, and lashed my tail.

Easton, who conquered the last of his desserts with enough haste I’d need to order him even more food, stopped and stared. “What the hell?”