Page 162 of Trick Knot Treat

Stupid human.

I spread my wings and cast the ridiculous and embarrassing seagull a pointed look. Sully looks away.

This is how you mess with their events. You do it properly.

They have been running around and being menaces all year, but the one thing we have noticed is the most pertinent. The happier they are, the more food there is.

I lean forward, peering down my long, sharp beak, and look at the list of names that has been mixed up with the names for the charity team marathon event being held on Christmas Day. The two are hopelessly mixed.

Angler’s Beach and Sunshine Cove.

Whoops…my bad.

I eyeball the three alphas giggling in the corner, holding court. They are wearing yellow and red.

These weird humans saved one of my chicks.

It’s only fair I give them a chance to save their lives, too.

Sully shakes herself and tucks her face into her feathers, balancing on one leg. Sulking, no doubt, because magpies do it better.

I let out a call, and my tribe answer me.

Some of the humans flinch. As well, they should.

I swoop down, watching the blond female with her giant white dog, and the alphas who were so angry and are now so happy gather around her. They leave food out for the birds now.

Water in bowls.

They are happy.

Happy humans care.

I’m going to make sure they are all happy.

“Matty!” Lorelei growls, glaring at me. “What did you do?”

I snatch up a rock and fly over the crowd, dropping it. A hand snaps out and catches the stone.

Gold-green eyes watch me in narrow-eyed frustration.

She looks down at the stone and then up; her gaze snapping to the crowd wearing red and yellow.

“What are you choosing? Truelove or Tinsel?” Lorelei shouts as she continues her spiel.

I watch in smug triumph.

All around the humans, a ring of animals are watching, observing, ready to jump in and help, all of us involved in the plan. Two white dogs, a little dachshund, a seagull and her empire, a Houdini horse, and my tribe.

And as I watch, the orange furball on the alpha’s shoulder uncurls and stretches her legs. She suddenly zips through the crowd and jumps up on Lorelei’s table, sitting on the notes, swishing her tail. Sending everything flying.

When Lorelei calls out a name.

The cat meows.

Asher whirls, tripping backward, her arms reaching and finding theirs.

“Hey, she’s mine,” a deep voice says, holding the omega close.