Page 34 of Butcher

“Think she’s hungry?” I asked.

He pointed to a machine over near the window. “That’s an automatic feeder. She should be good.”

I was grateful for that. It was probably the only reason Isla hadn’t mentioned her pet. She’d made sure that if something delayed her, the bobcat would have food.

“You ready?” Toxic asked, sounding resigned.

I grinned over at him. The fact that he was willing to do this without bitching much really just proved what a good friend he was. I hoped I fit that role for him, too. I wasn’t really sure I had the qualities to be a friend, but I mimicked what I saw the other men doing. And every once in a while there was this urge inside of me that forced me to do things that normally went against my base nature. Like teaching Gwen to fight. As much as I wanted to see her stand up and be able to protect herself—even though I knew Static would do everything in hispower to keep her safe—it was more than that. I’d wanted to take that fear and sadness from her eyes and replace it with confidence and violence. I’d wanted her to understand just how strong she could be.

“Shit,” I muttered. “Yeah. Go.”

Cursing and snarling filled the air as Toxic launched himself at the bobcat. As soon as she was covered with the towel, I grabbed the edges of the bedspread and brought them together, creating a sack in which to detain the ornery little creature. I held the makeshift sack out as the cat yowled and clawed at the bedspread. “You have everything else?”

“Yeah, I got it. You deal with her.” Toxic grabbed all the bags, and the food and water dispensers, juggling it all as we left the room.

By the timewe got back to the clubhouse we were both covered with scratches and blood and were glowering at our brothers as they circled around us.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Hellfire asked with a laugh.

Smoke reached out and poked at a particularly deep scratch on my forearm. “You get into a fight with a chupacabra or something?”

“Or something,” I snarled, shoving him backward. I was holding the squirming sack with one hand, as far away from my body as I could. The fucking cat had to weigh at least thirty pounds, and with it thrashing like that, it was wearing out my arm. “You make me drop this and we’re all going to fucking regret it,” I warned him. “In fact, I might just drop it anyway, just to spread the love around.

“What is it?” Hush asked, arching a brow.

A growl split the air and I dropped my head back in defeat. “No. Hush get your fucking dogs!” It was too late. A furry missile launched into the back of my knees, crumpling them and sending me to the floor with a grunt. “Goddamn it!”

“Is that a fucking bobcat?” someone else asked before all hell broke loose.

The manic barking from Auron and Jecht was bad enough, but the cat truly sounded demonic now as it hissed and spat at the dogs.

I climbed to my feet, and saw that Hush and Priest were holding Auron and Jecht by the collars. Thank fuck. I wasn’t going to endear myself to Isla if I got her pet eaten.

“Ow! Fuck! Get off!” Toxic was dancing around as the bobcat climbed him like a tree, trying to get away from the dogs.

Idaho and Static were too busy laughing to help, so I flipped them off as I strode over to my best friend. “Hold still, asshole.”

“You try to hold still when a demon cat is ripping you to- Owww!”

“What in thefuck!” The bellow made us all freeze. Even the dogs stopped barking. Lockout was standing near the back of the room, staring at the scene like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill us all, or himself.

Pounding on the stairs made me groan as the women all came rushing downstairs.

“Ms. Mittens!”

I looked over at Isla’s shocked face with a grimace. “Seriously?”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“Ms. Mittens?”

“More like murder mittens,” Toxic said, then cringed when the cat dug her claws deeper into his shoulders.

She hurried over to him and plucked her cat off his shoulders. I winced as his cut and t-shirt lifted as she pulled the clinging bobcat away. “How did you know her name is Murder?” she asked.

He blinked at her. “What? That’s actually her name?”

“Yeah,” my girl said with a shrug. “Ms. Mittens is just a nickname I use. I...sort of have a lot of them for her.”

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