Page 38 of Whiskers on Kittens

“How is it you haven’t lost your right to practice law?”

“I’m guilty of a lot of victimless crimes,” I informed him while giggling. “Everything I lift or toy with is returned in the same condition. I do it for the laughs, Easton. The collar? The joke was on me. I didn’t even get out of the house with it. I rolled around on some rich guy’s carpet like some fool because of catnip and pixie dust. Do you know what that is? It’s hilarious, that’s what it is. Nobody wants to press charges. They only do it because I beg them to land me more community service time. The begging is in my sealed records. The judges think it’s hilarious, too. And I cut the court a check to pay for the costs of my cases. I just call the CDC, get the amount taxpayers would have paid, and I cover it.”

Easton’s mouth dropped open. “You pay for your court appearance?”

“Taxpayers shouldn’t pay for the shit I pull. So they don’t. I pay for it, thus leaving resources available for the court to handle more important cases. It’s all one big joke, Mr. Goody-Goody. I get my day in court, the judge gets a laugh, the jury, when there is one, walks out snickering over the insanity. The attorneys get paid for a good time, too. Hell, the attorneys don’t even charge me their normal rates because it’s only a few hours of work. Nobody puts in any real effort on my cases. Everyone walks away happy.”

“Even you?”

“Especially me. I have fun getting into trouble, and I have fun getting out of trouble. I love community service. I make a difference.” I made a show of relaxing in my chair so he might follow my lead. “You can be a goody-goody cop if you want, Easton. Nobody is asking you to change that. But the judge isn’t wrong about drawing you a little closer to the line. Cleaning house will let you see what you can do if you decide to walk the line. Sure, there are victims with our crime, but those victims are literally child traffickers—and adult traffickers. I don’t give a fuck about that kind of ‘person’ anyway. They can and will rot in the Devil’s many hells.”

“Well, that was blunt.”

“It helps when you don’t view these bastards as people. They’re garbage we’re taking out to the dumpster. It’s time to get your game face on because we’re going to browse street views of our targets and get ready to break windows. The instant these bastards clear out, we’re going in. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be thoroughly exercised.”

The wolf huffed at me. “This is not the kind of exercise I like.”

No kidding. “You’ll live. Probably. And if you don’t, expire in a convenient location for me. I’m not sure I can roll all nine hundred pounds of you into the sack, but I’m game to try.”

After shaking his head, Easton let out a bark of laughter. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I’m feline perfection. One day, you will get used to that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure, if you say so.”

After feeding Easton and supplementing with his new protein mix, I took over the job of driving so he could conserve his strength. Every other hour, I stopped to feed him, forcing him to guzzle more of the drink mix. With luck, I’d have a nine hundred plus pound hybrid to work with when the sun fell.

Nine hours after leaving, we met the Devil several blocks from the site, and he had a rusty white van with him. I pointed at the offensive vehicle and said, “Really?”

“It’s not my fault this is what they use.”

I stared at the van in dismay. “Really?”

“Really.” Lucifer opened the door of the van to reveal a bound older woman struggling. “Merry Christmas. What do you want me to do with her? She was about to make use of the van when I decided to apprehend it.”

I hated asking questions I didn’t want the answer to, but I asked anyway, “What is the age of her intended victim?”

“Three. A little girl.”

Yep. All the answer did was infuriate my virus. I glared down my nose at the woman. “If I were to tell you to let her loose in your many hells, how long would she survive before she came to a brutal end?”

“Quite a while, actually. However long I feel like it, really. She has a great deal of drive to survive.”

“Take her and the van. Unless there is a reason to leave the van here?”

“Leave the van. I’ll use an illusion to disguise your car while you’re doing my dirty work. The van will confuse her accomplices, especially if you seed it with an item or two you’ve pilfered.” Lucifer’s gaze fell on Easton. “Are you okay with this?”

“Was she involved?”

I winced at the question—and feared the answer.

Heaving a sigh, the Devil nodded. “She was. She has benefited from the loss of those you mourn.”

“I’d say she can go to hell for all I care, but I do care, and I do want her to go and get exactly what she deserves. But…”

“But?” Lucifer prompted, raising a brow.

“Only if the punishment truly fits the crime.”