Page 11 of Smokescreen (Knight & Daywalker)
His head dropped from where he’d been inspecting the line of the vaulted ceiling, and he stared at me.
Damn, those eyes were black. Even in daylight, so very black. Like the guy had been made to be a vampire. Goth stereotype: black hair, black eyes, black leather jacket, black soul.
Well, except for that, because I’d seen no indication he was anything but a decent guy.
“You own a building on the beach, and you’re worried about money.”
I scowled at that. “Who said I was worried about money?”
He scoffed and turned away, taking a step, then pausing to look down at Twist licking the fish container. “You did, last night,” he said, kneeling down next to her. “Hello there, kitten. Did you eat your da’s breakfast?”
Did she . . .
Holy shit.
The container was empty. Twist was licking it because it was entirely empty.
I stared at her in shock, sure that she’d somehow managed to eat more fish than the volume of her entire body. Where had she put it?
I swooped down and grabbed her up, looking her over. Then I realized that was a terrible idea because she might throw up on me.
Except she didn’t. And her belly wasn’t swollen or distended.
I blinked in shock.
Twist, for her part, seemed entirely unaffected by the manhandling. “My hunger remains, Father.” She glanced down at Davin. “He called you my da. Is that the correct word?”
“I...Father is fine, Twist. Da is just slang.” Was I telling the kitten to call me daddy? I?—
“You said there would be more food if this was gone,” she continued. “Where is it?”
For a moment, all I could do was blink at her. “You want...more? You’ve just eaten an amount of salmon that weighed more than you, and you want more.”
“Of course,” she agreed.
All I could do was stare at her a moment, flabbergasted.
“Twist, is it?” Davin asked, holding out his hand to her.
She sniffed it, then gave him a decisive nod. “He may also call me Plot Twist.”
“It’s, um, short for Plot Twist. Which is short for...something else.” I scrubbed my face with one hand and sighed, sitting back and leaning against the couch.
That, it seemed, drew Davin’s attention to it and the blanket on it. Then my messy state of dress. “You slept here.”
“Of course I slept here. I own the building. It’s the only building I do own. Where else would I sleep?” I didn’t meet his eye, just stared at Twist as I scratched behind her ears, and she stretched up into the touch, clearly enjoying it. “Also apparently I have to buy more fish. Like, a lot more. And find my hot plate so I can cook it.”
Davin looked around again, this time slightly horrified.
“Or you could buy tinned fish,” he pointed out.
I looked at him, and then held Twist out to him. “I don’t think you understand. That dish? Was literally almost full. I’m not saying she ate a lot, I’m literally saying that in the last ten minutes, she’s eaten close to twice her weight in fish.”
He reached out and stroked her back, watching her innocent blue eyes as she slow blinked at him. Then he shrugged. “Bet you could buy it in bulk from that place that sells things by the dozens.”
It was a valid point, I supposed. I might have to get myself a store membership, just to keep Twist from either eating me out of everything, or maybe just eating me when she got hungry.
“So it’s morning,” I said lifting Twist up to set her on my shoulder and meeting his eye.
