Page 57 of Whiskers on Kittens

“It’s in her criminal mischief record, apparently,” Easton growled.

I burst into laughter at the hybrid’s disgruntled tone. “Back to business, everyone. How many do you think will come for this?”

“We’ll bring a strong force. If you want us there earlier, we can pass through your hells.”

“You’ve my blessing should you have the guides. And if not, I can send some devils to teleport you although the others may not appreciate such things.”

“For this, they will deal with the burden of transporting us through your many hells. We should be there within two hours.”

“Two hours sounds good. Please bring things suitable for little kittens to eat. You are my best resource for that right now. Kelsie is anxious they are hungry so we will arrange for them to be in our hands by morning. Do you have any vampires willing to work as an escort? I shall be sending them on an adventure until their arrival on Christmas Eve.”

“Vampires? No. Babylonians? Yes. I trust an invisible guard will suffice?”

“One per kitten, and you should probably make an entire team for Kelsie and her cop. They’re dancing around each other,” Lucifer requested.

“It shall be as you ask. We shall be there as soon as we can.”

EIGHTEEN

The Pale Horse of Death wanted nuzzles and love, and I was powerless to defy him.

Death itself came calling in the form of an archangel, a dark-haired woman, and an equally dark man. I pegged the man and woman as a couple, as every time the woman thought nobody was looking, she stared at the man with ill-contained adoration. If she thought someone might catch her, she made a show of feigning interest in something.

The Four Horses of the Apocalypse coming along for the ride startled me, but the Pale Horse of Death wanted nuzzles and love, and I was powerless to defy him.

Rather than terrify, I found his affection to be somehow comforting.

Lucifer graced me with a smile, reached over, and rubbed the animal’s neck. “My father created the horses to maintain the balance—and to keep me company in my many hells. Everything that is good and right in the world must always have a shadow. The horses are a part of that shadow. Without death, there cannot be life.”

The Devil gestured to the woman, and she bounced over. “Kelsie, this is Anwen. She’s one of the facets of death, and her job is to make sure there is life after death. Her husband is a pain in my ass, and he makes sure all souls are shepherded, even the really irritating ones we wish would wander through the valley for a lengthy period of time. The archangel is Azrael. He shepherds those deserving of companionship through the valley on His behalf. Rumor spread as rumors do, and they wanted to make sure everything went to plan. There will be no accidents this night—nor unwanted undead sprouting up.”

I wrinkled my nose at the thought of any unexpected undead joining the party. A pair of mummies loitered on the street, and one bounded around with the same energy of a child allowed to play. The other seemed to rue, lament, and regret his attendance.

“If I didn’t know better, I would say that’s King Tutankhamun.”

“That is Tutankhamun. The other one is Ginger. The Gilded Lady is also here, although she’s biding her time and scouting as is her way. Our daughter’s wrath stirred their ire, and upon learning of what we battle tonight, they decided to come along. I’ve decided they can take one of the pedophiles. Enduring the curses of three mummies imbued with our daughter’s favor? It will be a sight to behold. Don’t be surprised if you end up with a scarab or two coming along for the ride. That’s how they monitor their allies.”

Darlene giggled, and she joined me in observing Ginger. “Our daughter woke them by accident. She came into her power when somebody shot her beloved. He was fine. He had the air and sense knocked out of him, but she didn’t realize that. Her fury woke her true power and heritage. Once woken, such things do not return to sleep. Tutankhamun finds being our heir’s guardian to his liking, and the other two adore our daughter because of who she is. Of them, Ginger is among the most dangerous. He is ancient—far more ancient than Tutankhamun and the Gilded Lady. But Ginger’s heart is made of gold, and his ire is often the last to stir. But when it does stir? The wise are wary—and leave the area.”

The Devil snickered. “He also plays at being a few cans short of a six pack most of the time. He is anything but. Carrie and her little family were wise to play our game because the mummies appreciate the risks and sacrifices they make. If they stay on the right side of the line, I’ll be able to use them down the road. There will be scarabs watching, and they will never realize that there are spies within their walls. Such is the power of a mummy.”

Well, that would keep me awake at night, wondering if a vengeful mummy might be hiding scarabs in the walls to spy on me.

Anwen cleared her throat, glanced at her husband, and said, “This is important enough for him to deal with all that screaming. Why did you want us here? Is there a seed?”

“There are quite a few seeds inside. You can wait until the souls have all departed before coming in, but there were many brutal and swift deaths which left the seeds behind. Some are children, some are adults—all girls and women. The boys were taken elsewhere or sent on to be trafficked at brothels. I would like them replanted into lives of peace, and you’re the best custodians I have for that sort of thing right now. You’ll comfort the seeds until it’s time for them to return to the mortal coil. Most are at rest as they refused the heavens.”

“That damaged?” Anwen asked, and her brows furrowed.

“That’s why we come as a swift hand of justice. It’s best we are a swift and merciful hand. They’ll get what they deserve in my dungeons. The horses will help with your task. The seeds won’t know their true nature. They’ll be spiritual emotional support ponies tonight. And if you decide to keep and raise those seeds as your children, well, who am I to stop you? If my father didn’t want them shepherded, he wouldn’t have just left those seeds lying around.”

“Eoghan?” Anwen called.

Both her husband and the archangel came at her call.

“What it is?” Eoghan asked.

“I need my weed whacker.”