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“So, the next time I find a hungry vampire on top of you, I should leave her there?”
She wrinkles her nose, Guinevere meows, and Blaire lowers her knife to her side with a sigh. “You have a point, Punky.” She squats down, scratching Gwen behind the ears, summoning an even deeper purr from the scoundrel.
“You can understand her?” I ask, leaning against the door as I watch my usually devoted pet rub all over Blaire’s leg like her hideous overalls are covered in cat nip.
“Yeah, can’t you?” She shoots me a confused look before Gwen meows again and Blaire’s forehead smooths with a soft laugh. “Never mind, she says you can’t, but that she likes you anyway. Even though you gave her a dumbass name. Her name’s Punky, by the way, not Guinevere. And she wants you to know she prefers fresh salmon over the canned stuff.”
“Well, I prefer cats who don’t pee on the floor every time I have a friend over to spend the night,” I counter. “And Guinevere is a dignified name.”
Gwen—Punky now, apparently—flicks her tail and shoots me a devious glance from the corners of her deep green eyes before sashaying past me to the stairs leading down to my bedroom, presumably to leave another piss puddle on the floor to prove she’s the queen of this castle and will do as she pleases.
“If you do anything outside your litter box, it’ll be canned salmon for you for a week,” I call after her, before adding in a mumble, “Traitorous beast.”
Blaire laughs, a light musical sound that’s unexpectedly lovely.
I turn back to her, surprised to see her looking softer, less guarded than she’s ever been with me before.
“Have you always been able to talk to animals?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No. Never. Guess that’s something I should talk to my witch tutor about when she gets back in town. Maybe I do have some natural magic swimming around in my veins, after all. You should get her that fresh salmon, by the way. She’s an excellent character reference.”
My brows lift again. “Really? What did she say?”
“That I can trust you. That she’s never seen you hurt a soul and that…” She trails off with a shrug. “Well, some other stuff.”
“Such as?”
She exhales, rolling her eyes as she adds, “She said you have magical petting hands. But since I’m not a cat and have zero interest in your hands, that’s not really relevant, is it?”
Ignoring the odd flash of disappointment inspired by her words, I agree, “No, it isn’t. But thank you. For sharing what she said. She’s…important to me.”
“I can tell. And you’re welcome.” She nods over her shoulder toward the kitchen. “Shall I put this knife away and we can get down to business? Or do you have other murderous exes hiding out in the living room?”
My lips curve. “Not that I know of, no. I’m sorry that happened. Truly. And I know you’re a strong woman, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need friends and allies. Especially in this town.”
“That’s what Punky said.” She arches a brow. “And she said you’re a good egg, so we’ll see. Help me save our siblings from a miserable marriage and who knows…maybe we can be friends. Crazier things have probably happened. Right?”
I smile. “Not to my immediate knowledge, but I’m sure you’re right.”
She laughs again and for a moment I can see how beautiful she would be if she made any effort at all with her personal toilette. She might even be more stunning than her sister. Not my type at all, of course, but I feel compelled to admit—at least to myself—that she isn’t a goblin.
And that she actually seems to be a good egg herself.
Though I do have one question…
“Not to throw a wrench in our truce,” I say, as I follow her back into the kitchen, “but you don’t seem like a person who trusts easily. Is there a reason you so quickly decided my cat is a reliable character reference?”
She fits the knife into the block and slides it in before turning to meet my gaze. “Why would she lie? Especially when you can’t understand what she’s saying? She could have told me to stab you in the heart and you would have had no clue.” She bobs a shoulder. “And I’ve always liked cats. Annie and I had the sweetest cat when we were little. Persimmon would sleep on our feet in the winter so they wouldn’t get cold when Mom forgot to bring in wood and the fire went out in the cabin.”
Sympathy for those cold little girls rises inside my chest. “Well, you’ll both be safe and warm here. We take care of our own in Nightfall. We may not always get along, but no one goes without food or fuel for their fire.”
Her gaze cools. “Thanks, but like I said, we can take care of ourselves. At least with stuff like that. And with bad vamps, too. I lowered my guard with Janet, but I won’t make that mistake again. Annie is naïve enough to believe all the stuff about the vampires here being tame and trustworthy, but I’m fully aware that I’m food to you.”
I start to protest, but she lifts a hand and presses on, “Maybe we’ll be friends someday, sure. But I’ll still be food. That’s never going to change. And it’s one of the big reasons I need to get my sister out of this engagement. If Colin ends up making her into one of you, if he turns my sister into a predator who will always be tempted to feed on her own family, I will never forgive him. Or you.”
“Never is a very long time,” I say, my heart twisting as memories of my family’s faces rise in my mind, still as clear as they were the day I realized I couldn’t go home again without being a danger to them. “But I hear you. And I agree. Annie should remain mortal and single and free to find a more suitable partner. We just need to make it clear to her that there are other options, men who are a far better match to her personality and temperament. With a little help from you, I think we can make that happen. Maybe even tonight.”
She reaches back, hooking her palms on the counter and hopping up to sit on top of it. When she’s settled, she claps her hands. “Sounds good. But fair warning, we’re going to need a man who can have kids. That’s important to Annie and probably the easiest way to get her to call things off. She’s always wanted a family of her own.”
