“I can’t believe no one is missing such a sweet girl,” Drew said, looking up from his laptop.
Zach grunted. “You didn’t find any ‘missing demon chicken’ posts on Facebook, then?”
“Maybe I’m looking in the wrong groups,” Drew drawled. “Perhaps you could look in your old groups for actual demons that are missing a pet chicken.”
The chicken—who was sitting on top of Zach’s favourite cushion on the sofa next to Drew—gave Zach a triumphant look and then began to preen the feathers on her chest. Drew absently reached down and began to stroke along her back, and much to Zach’s astonishment, the hen not only allowed the petting but seemed to enjoy it. He glared at her, feeling strangely jealous of the attention she was getting from his boyfriend.
A few minutes later, Drew made a humming noise.
“Find something?” Zach asked.
“No, still nothing. It looks like we’ll need to set her up a perch and buy some specialized grain mix, as well as a waterer, but I guess a small container will do for now.”
“Excuse me?” Zach couldn’t possibly have heard that right.
“I mean, if we don’t find her owners, we’ll need to build her a pen outside, but I’m thinking for now she’ll be okay inside. We’ll just need to keep her away from the bedrooms that have carpet.”
“We are not keeping a chicken inside!” Zach protested.
“Why not?” Drew asked, frowning.
“Because . . . because it’s a chicken!” Zach sputtered.
Drew’s eyes narrowed. “And? She’s scared and alone and I’m not just dumping her back in the woods to be eaten by some predator!”
“I’m pretty sure she could take on theactualPredator and come out victorious.”
“She’s tiny! She’ll become something’s lunch.”
“Yeah, mine if I have my way!”
“Zach!”
He gave his boyfriend a serious look, but he could already tell that he’d lost this fight. “Drew.”
“Please, will you help me look after her?” Drew asked, his eyes wide and imploring.
Zach threw his arms up in the air. “Fine! What is it that we need?”
Welcome to the Family
The house was quiet. Zach had gone to Home Depot to buy supplies, leaving Drew and the chicken alone. He’d laid some newspaper down in the corner, along with a bowl of water, and she’d already had a long drink, dipping her beak into the bowl over and over until she’d sated her thirst. She’d also relieved herself, twice, both times keeping it to the newspaper. In fact, it was the second time, when she’d gotten down off the couch, walked over to the corner to shit, and then returned to the couch that sent alarm bells ringing.
Unless she was a highly trained indoor pet—which wasn’t outside the realm of possibility, but highly unlikely—she might not be a regular, run-of-the-mill chicken. Drew snapped a photo of her and sent a text off to Kensington, asking him to drop around when he was finished with his emergency.
“What exactly are you?” Drew mused as he stroked the soft feathers on her back. He couldn’t believe how inky black her colouring was. Zach’s wing feathers were black, but they shone with a tinge of red. These feathers were so dark it was as if they sucked all the light into them like a singularity. Her black skin, eyes, and comb were initially unnerving, but the more she sat calmly next to Drew and allowed him to pet her, the more he found her beautiful.
“I just have a feeling you’re not someone’s lost pet,” he murmured to her.
The chicken made a soft trilling noise that almost sounded like a purr.
“I think you might end up living here with us. Would you like that?”
Another chicken-like purr.
“You’d have to be nicer to Zach, though. You really did a number on his arm and that’s not okay. He takes good care of me, so I won’t have you hurting him. Okay?”
The hen blinked slowly in his direction.
