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“Very good. And Damian and Kitten will work things out—”
“Kitten? What the fuck? Who’s Kitten?”
Felicity blushed. “I saw her name when I processed her account transfer. Oh, now I’m embarrassed. Was it a secret?”
I stared at nothing for a bit, my mind turning. “Is she...is she a werecat? Oh that makes perfect sense. The yarn, the koi, the nudity. What’s her last name?”
“Bastet? Kitten Bastet?”
“Goddess of felines. Damn.”
“Damn? Why are we daminging? Cats are sweet! Everyone likes cats.”
“No. I’m not saying she has a cat. I’m saying she is a cat. Perhaps erring on the side of deity.” Which means she’s more powerful, more terrible, more sneaky and seductive than any human ever could be. Which means...I will want her...forever. I am drawn to power, to wicked intent, to malicious malevolence of the highest order and type. She’s...captured me. And she knows it.
“I love calicos, personally—”
“Are you on purpose an idiot, Felicity?”
She smiled, still whisking. “Are you on purpose an asshole, Alexei?”
I sat on my stool and picked up the scissors. “I’ll cut the damn hearts.”
And after everything was assembled and the pathetic humans slept and had their coffee, I put it all into a box and headed to LoveBubble to meet the werecat who tasted like danger.
And then...I got a text.
Let me warn you that this text was not one that I expected to get. And the very fact that the Prince of Vampires received a textual message rather than a herald or a royal emissary with the wings of a bat was upsetting enough. I am quite embarrassed that you haven’t done anything to prepare me for this sort of thing. You should be embarrassed as well.
The text went as follows:
Dear bat daddy,
You’re loads of fun, but I think I’m going to take the money and do my own thing. I’m a free spirit and I’ve got my own trees to climb, if you know what I mean. Happy V Day. Sink those fangs into some sobbing hottie tonight and think of me.
-Sweets
I pulled my car over and stared into the abyss that was my immediate future. Then, I took out my phone and dialed a number I rarely called. Someone whose advice I knew I could take without fear.
“What?”
“It’s me.”
“Oh. Alex. Well what?”
“A woman.”
“Shit.”
“Yes, shit. Shit, Jack.”
“Okay well what do you need. I could ice her out if you give me a location.”
“No. Don’t...kill her.”
“Shit.”
“I know.”
