Page 97 of Ruthlessly Mated
“There they are,” she says.
Two little dancing beans swim into view again, and I feel all my rage slide away. I’m not angry. I’m thrilled. I’m as happy as I’ve ever been. I look over my shoulder to see what Conroy and Damon and Tailor think—but then I realize they’re not here. I’ve come alone.
I guess I should tell them.
But I don’t know how.
It needs an announcement. And it needs me to not want to hit them with a hammer. And it needs to be nice and sweet. And it needs to be not totally fucking annoying. And it needs to…
The babies squirm around again and I forget about everything besides them.
Conroy
“Is she on drugs?”
The question escapes my mouth almost without passing through my mind. It makes sense. People on drugs are often erratic. They have trouble controlling their moods, especially when they are going through withdrawal. Maybe that is how Kita has been handing the boredom of her incarceration, as she sees it.
“What? Why would you ask that?”
“It fits,” I say grimly. “We should check her room.”
We go up to the bedroom and start searching. It feels strange to be doing this, but there has to be some reason for her strange behavior. I have the feeling the answer is something simple, and once I discover it, I will wonder why the hell I didn’t know what it was right away.
There are no drugs in the nightstand, or in the pillows… she’s been eating toast in bed, but I don’t think that counts as actual drugs.
“What the hell is this?” Tailor sounds offended. Deeply so.
I turn around to see what he has discovered. It’s a pile of blankets, but it’s been packed into the closet, and they’ve been sort of swirled around. There’s fur on them.
“She’s been sleeping here. That’s why the bed is full of crumbs.”
There are crumbs here too. There are crumbs everywhere. Kita has never been super tidy, but she hasn’t been outright filthy before. This is strange.
Tailor looks at me. “Have we driven her insane?”
“I don’t think so. I think we need to talk to her.”
“She doesn’t talk to us anymore. I don’t know if she ever did. We chase her around. We get into battles with supernatural evils. We barely survive. This is the first time we’ve all been quiet together. Maybe this is what she’s like. Maybe, when you strip away the endless chaos, she’s just a grumpy little crumb gremlin.”
“No,” Tailor says. “There’s no possibility that my mate lives like this when left to her own devices. It’s not possible. Nature wouldn’t do that to me. The universe wouldn’t do that to me. This is impossible.”
He’s really freaking out over this blanket situation, which surprises me because blankets really are the very least of my worries. It’s just another piece of the very strange puzzle that we keep trying to put together when it comes to Kita.
“What are you doing in my room?”
Kita’s voice comes to us from the doorway. She looks pale, and a little glassy-eyed, as if she has been crying, or as if she wants to.
“It’s our room,” I remind her. “Or it used to be, before you kicked us all out.”
“Do you want ants, Kita? Because this is how you get ants. Also, what is this?” Tailor holds up handfuls of stuffing. Their origin is a bit confusing before I sit down on the end of the bed and feel itpractically disappear under me. She’s torn a hole in the mattress and pulled all the interior out to put in her… nest?
Click. Click.Click.
It’s like tumblers falling into place all of a sudden, a lock I didn’t know I was picking finally snaps open.
“Oh, my.” I reach for her, pick her up, and hold her so carefully close. “Kita! Oh, my, Kita!”
“Let me go!” She squirms against me. “Put me down. What are you doing? Why are you picking me up like that? What’s going on?”
