“He’s not possessed.” Mabon drained half his wine in one swallow. “He’s a strategist, which is worse.”
Rux set down his fork. His chest still stung where Basil’s claws had carved furrows on Sunday morning, though the wounds were nearly healed. Mabon’s humiliation might take longer.
“Start from the beginning,” Urien said.
Mabon refilled his glass. “I researched cat behavior. Eighteenarticles. Seven YouTube videos. Three books on feline psychology.”
“Naturally, it’s what you do.”
“I learned that cats respond to enrichment activities, which include quality toys and interactive play.” Mabon pulled something from his jacket pocket - a mangled stick with bedraggled feathers. “I bought the best item money could buy. It’s organic, artisanal, and has real pheasant feathers harvested during molt.”
Rux picked up the toy. It looked like it had been through a shredder and then someone had chucked the rest in a garbage disposal. Several feathers were missing entirely. “How much did this cost?”
“Forty-seven dollars.”
“For a stick with feathers.”
“Real pheasant feathers,” Mabon corrected. “From ethical sources.”
Urien’s mouth twitched. “And Basil appreciated the ethical sourcing.”
“Basil used it as a weapon.” Mabon gestured with his wine. “I arrived at six-thirty. Sam answered the door, still apologizing about Sunday. The cat sat behind him, totally calm this time, although he was watching me.”
“Planning,” Rux muttered.
“I explained I wanted to make amends and showed him the toy. Sam looked so relieved, and said Basil would love it, and to please come in.” Mabon’s eyes went distant. “The moment I crossed the threshold, that beast started purring.”
“He purred at you?” Urien glanced at Rux, who looked just as shocked.
“I know, but he was purring loudly. He rubbed against my legs. Sam was delighted and said maybe Basil had just needed time to adjust.” Mabon took another drink. “Then I set the toy down. I stepped over it, and the purring stopped.”
Rux leaned forward. “And?”
“That demon kicked the toy under my foot mid-step. Precise angle. Impeccable timing. I went downhard.” Mabon touched his shoulder and winced. “Before I could get up, Basil was on me, just like you described. Claws. Teeth. Fury incarnate.”
“Where did he get you?”
“My shoulder, neck, and the back of my head.” Mabon tilted to show a scratch disappearing beneath his collar. “Sam pulled him off, but Basil went for Sam’s face and nearly got his glasses.”
Urien set down his knife. “He attacked Sam?”
“Briefly. Sam wrestled him into the bathroom and locked him in.” Mabon stared at the ruined toy. “I could hear him yowling through the door. Sam was crying. He actually cried as he was apologizing. He said he’d never seen Basil act like it, not once in six years. He thought maybe the cat was sick.”
Rux’s dragon stirred, agitated at the idea of Sam being upset and crying. “What did you say?”
“That I understood. That perhaps we should wait before visiting again.” Mabon’s voice went quiet. “He looked devastated, kept saying he was so sorry, that you and Urien had been so kind, bringing vegetables and pastries, and now his possessed cat was ruining everything.”
The three of them sat in silence. Rux’s chest ached, and not from the scratches.
“He’ll think we won’t want to be friends anymore,” Urien said finally.
“I’m more worried he might think there’s something wrong with us, full stop. Humans place great store on how their pets react around new people. The fact his cat keeps attacking us” - Mabon examined the toy - “Strategically, of course...it doesn’t look good for any one of us.”
“We can’t court him if we can’t get past the door,” Rux said. “And at the moment, we can’t get past the darn door because a twenty-pound furball has declared war on our species. If any of the other triads hear aboutthis, we’ll never be able to show our faces at a council meeting again.”
“Hey, at least I had the forethought to leave him a card with our numbers on – all three of them. Maybe he’ll call.” Mabon shrugged and tossed the toy on the floor. “It’s not looking good, guys.”
Chapter Thirteen
