Page 158 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

“Good evening,” I said pleasantly when Lord Coralven answered himself. “I’m terribly sorry to disturb you, but I need your family to come with me immediately.”

He blinked, taking in my dark traveling clothes and the pair of shadow warriors visible behind me. “Excuse me?”

“Your stepdaughter Elena has heroic bloodline. King Auremar plans to use her in a ritual that will, to use technical terminology, be very bad for everyone involved.” I kept my tone conversational, as if discussing the weather. “So we’re relocating your family to somewhere safe.”

Lord Coralven puffed up like an angry fish. “You can’t just—”

Another shadow warrior materialized directly behind him.

“Actually,” I said, “I can. I’m Lady Arabella Blackrose, by the way. You might have heard of my husband?”

His face went from red to white so fast I worried he might faint. “The Dark Lord’s wife?”

“The very same. Now, would you prefer to pack a few things, or shall we just—”

A blur of feathers and fury exploded from somewhere behind the house. The rooster—and it was definitely The Rooster, deserving of capital letters—came at us like a feathered missile. It was massive, with spurs that looked capable of taking out an eye and an attitude that suggested it had never lost a fight in its life.

It went straight for the nearest shadow warrior, which was a mistake. Being made of shadow, they are notably difficult to peck. The Rooster passed right through, squawking in outrage.

Then it spotted me.

“Oh, fuck—”

I dove sideways as The Rooster launched itself at my face. Vex shrieked. Lord Coralven shouted something about Ferdinand. Shadow warriors milled about in confusion, unsure how to handle a poultry-based threat.

The Rooster came at me again, wings spread wide and spurs aimed at my throat. This time, I was ready. A quick burst of shadow magic created a cage around the demonic bird, trapping it mid-leap.

It did not take this well.

“BRAWWWK!” The Rooster slammed against the shadow bars, feathers flying. “BRAWWWWWK!”

“Ferdinand!” A young boy—one of the Coralven children—came running out. “Don’t hurt Ferdinand!”

“I’m not hurting him,” I said, watching The Rooster attempt to murder the shadow cage. “I’m saving everyone else from him.”

“He’s just protective,” the boy insisted. “He doesn’t like strangers.”

“I noticed.”

By now, the entire family had crowded into the doorway, staring at the scene in their front garden—shadow warriors, a caged rooster, and two women in dark clothes trying to look official.

“Perhaps,” Lady Coralven said faintly, “we should discuss this inside?”

Twenty minutes later, we’d explained the situation, weathered Lord Coralven’s blustering, comforted crying children, and negotiated a temporary truce with Ferdinand. The family would come with us, but they needed an hour to pack essentials.

“Ferdinand comes too,” the youngest boy insisted, clutching The Rooster’s new cage.

I looked at the bird. It looked back. Hatred burned in its beady eyes.

I sighed. “Only if he stays caged.”

“This is ridiculous,” Vex muttered as we supervised the packing. “We’re supposed to be villains kidnapping people in the night, not helping them decide which toys to bring.”

“Would you rather traumatize the children?”

“No, but there’s got to be a middle ground between trauma and whatever this is.” She gestured at the controlled chaos of a family packing for unexpected relocation. “That one’s trying to bring a potted plant.”

“Let her. It’ll make her feel better.”