“You’re the most qualified person in this room,” Gregory pointed out patiently. He counted on his fingers. “Eight hundred years of experience. A pureblood vampire with extensive knowledge of dark powers. Not to mention superb supernatural reflexes.”
“Save the flattery,” Barney snapped. “I don’t do cats. Besides, I don’t have the space.”
“You live in a mansion with seventeen bedrooms,” Wendall observed.
“Yeah, surely you can spare one for a small animal,” Portia said.
Barney’s expression darkened. “A small animal who tried to claw my eyes out.”
“She tried to claw everyone’s eyes out,” Samuel pointed out reasonably.
Finnic carefully examined his nails. “Melvina would love a pet.”
Barney flinched. His scent told me Finnic had found his kryptonite.
“Don’t you dare bring Melvina into this,” the vampire said in a dangerous voice.
“She has a particular fondness for black cats,” Finniccontinued, undeterred. “She’ll probably love it to death.”
“We live in hope,” Maude muttered.
The carrier yowled, a sound of shocked protest.
Pearl strolled across the table and stopped in front of Barney. “You know you’re the obvious choice, Barnabas,” she said calmly. “I’ll even visit and give you and the dwarf advice on how to manage her.”
Victoria didn’t look thrilled by this suggestion.
Barney regarded Pearl for a long moment.
“Fine,” he ground out. “But I want it on record that I am doing this under protest.”
“Duly noted,” Daria said. “The protest and the acceptance.”
Barney reached for the carrier with the enthusiasm of a man collecting a ticking bomb. The moment his fingers touched the latch, the carrier erupted in a frenzy of hissing and rattling.
He opened the door a crack.
A black paw shot out and raked four lines across his hand.
Pearl trotted over and swatted the black cat sharply on the nose.
“Bad kitty.”
33
PRINCESS FLUFFERNUTTER
Ellie criedfor forty minutes straight.
They weren’t delicate, dignified tears either. We’re talking full-body, snot-streaming, mascara-destroying sobs that had Bo hiding behind a door and Samuel developing an urgent need to check something in his study.
“I can’t believe you’re actually moving out!” My best friend clutched a sodden tissue and surveyed the Hawthorne mansion’s interior like she’d never seen it before. “This place is so beautiful, Abby. You—you deserve this.” Her breath hitched. Her face crumpled, her mouth opening on a loud wail that made me wince and the chandelier shake.
Bernard observed the proceedings with the stoic expression of a butler who had witnessed worse displays of affection.
“You’ve been here at least a dozen times,” I reminded my best friend once the echoes died down.
“I know, but this is different.” She sniffed and hugged me with the bone-breaking strength of a newborn vampire. “You’re going to live here now.”
