Page 85 of Joker in the Pack

“Have you ever cooked anything? Or do you just reheat?”

“I tried boiling an egg once, but it didn’t work out.” At least he had the good grace to look sheepish.

“Look, put that stuff back. I’ll cook for you.”

He brightened. “You will?”

“Of course, and for the teams outside. You’re all doing me such a big favour.”

“In that case…” Nye scooped his shopping out and dumped it on a shelf.

“You can’t just leave it there.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not in the right places.”

He put an arm around my shoulder and steered me away. “Look at it this way, babe—I’m keeping someone in a job.”

It still made me twitch, but I liked the feel of his arm too much to go back. Instead, we traipsed through the healthier sections of the store again and bought enough food for everyone.

Then we had our second disagreement when Nye got his credit card out.

“I’ll pay.”

“Liv, hardly any of that food’s for you.”

“But—”

“You can do magic things and transform it into something edible. That’s your contribution, okay?”

What could I do but nod? The lady behind us in the queue was already tapping her foot.

Back at Lilac Cottage, Nye checked in with the security team while I unlocked the front door.

“Nothing to report,” he said, picking up all the shopping in one go. I grabbed my handbag and scurried in after him. The dark gave me the creeps.

Now I had to find somewhere to put everything. Aunt Ellie’s kitchen was perfectly adequate for two, but three shifts of two guards who’d each eat one meal a day with us meant we’d bought a week’s worth of food for four plus enough snacks to feed an army battalion. According to Nye, his colleagues hoovered up food like stray dogs. Careful packing of the fridge would be required.

I took out the washing-up liquid and the packet of dishcloths and put them by the sink, but as I turned back to the bags, something outside the window caught my eye.

What was it?

I leaned forward to take a closer look, then wished more than anything that I hadn’t.

CHAPTER 25

NYE HEARD MY scream and caught me just before I hit the floor.

“Liv, what happened?”

I pointed with a trembling finger at the drooping cat duct-taped to the outside of the window, blood dripping down its fur from the gash across its throat. Narrow rivulets trickled down the glass, lit by the harsh light overhead, Twiglet’s life reduced to a few sorry streaks.

“It’s my cat,” I sobbed.

Nye hugged me against him, his heart steady as mine pounded. My ears made a strange whooshing noise, and I put my hands over them to make it stop.

“I’m so sorry, Liv.”

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