Page 1 of Whiskers on Kittens

ONE

I hadn’t known the mouse was the size of a small dog and wore a diamond-studded collar.

When I became bored, trouble happened. The current flavor of trouble stood a little over five feet with light brown hair and dark eyes, putting him a solid inch taller than me. He wore his uniform well and glared at me as though he’d enjoy escorting me to the next life if given a reason.

The glare I understood.

Cats and dogs did not get along, and my nose informed me I dealt with a single male wolf of the lycanthrope variety. I doubted he’d ever met a clouded leopard lycanthrope in his life, resulting in the divine essence of female feline tormenting him. That I happened to reek of divine single female feline might do him in.

What I didn’t understand was why Judge McMurphy, one of the nicer men I’d dealt with in the Chicago court system, had dragged some poor cop out for my sentencing. I especially didn’t understand why the judge had requested I come along with the poor cop for a private discussion in his office along with the attorneys. Community service was community service, and that I’d only been slapped with six months of community service astonished me.

In the judge’s shoes, I would have gone for two years.

The judge made himself comfortable behind his desk, invited us all to take a seat, and promised we wouldn’t have to wait long before he could get on with why we needed to have a private chat after everything had been said and done.

I pitied my attorney, who would need therapy after dealing with me. It wasn’t that I had gone out of my way to give the man a hard time. I just accepted responsibility for my actions, confessed I’d broken into the home of a wealthy businessman to steal a toy mouse on a double-dog dare, and refused to rat out my succubus friend for being the one to dare me to do it.

When I’d broken into the home, I hadn’t known the mouse was the size of a small dog and wore a diamond-studded collar.

The attorney especially hadn’t appreciated when I’d made use of my legal rights to summon an angel to confirm I hadn’t known about the collar, had done the heist as a prank, and would not be snitching on my friend in this life nor the next, not even if the Devil came calling to drag me into some dungeon to put me through hell. I’d amused the angel, who had assured me I wouldn’t be doing any time in the dungeons unless I wanted to.

The innuendo had caught me so off guard I’d burst into laughter at the sheer thought of leaving the pool of divine single female felines.

The wise men ran the instant they realized I was on the prowl, the smart ones ran soon after, and the dumb ones pissed me off and often received a face full of claws if they didn’t get the hint I didn’t want a dumb man in my life.

Wise and smart men were few and far between. To find a single one?

I bet I could find and steal numerous priceless treasures before one of those crossed my path and stuck around.

With a pop and a flash of light, an angel appeared in the judge’s office. “My apologies, Your Honor. I needed to gather some important information.” The feminine tone to the angel’s voice indicated she preferred to be portrayed as a female, and the red, gold, and blue barring on her feathers proved I’d somehow created a two-angel circus.

The other angel’s wings were barred with blue.

With a snap of her fingers, she manifested a briefcase, which she offered to Judge McMurphy. “We have taken the liberty of discussing the situation with the owners of the toy and collar. You will not encounter any issues with the sentencing, as upon learning the details, they may have commented that cruel and unusual punishment is technically illegal.”

The judge chuckled, set the briefcase down in front of him, and opened it. A puff of yellow smoke reeking of sulfur spread through the room. “I see Lucifer is involved. I should have known.”

“He does prefer when mortals understand when it is futile to protest overly much. While the girl will not be protesting, as she is of the opinion she is deserving of two years of service, the boy will surely protest early and often. This will spare us from a great deal of whining.”

“Wolves are masters at whining, though. That’s part of their gig,” I informed the angel. “They smell awful when wet, they whine, and they sniff around begging for food. Some of them make themselves useful when they aren’t doing that.” I eyed the cop, who had picked the chair farthest from me. “He’s probably a hybrid if he’s working in law enforcement here. You know how Chicago gets. So, this one is probably a useful wolf, and there’s something to be said for useful wolves.”

“While he is a hybrid, he was brought in to quietly help with the trafficking woes plaguing the city. His status as a hybrid makes him sufficiently durable for the job.” The angel sat on the judge’s desk. If the angel had a head, I suspected she would be grinning. “Lycanthrope males are useful in the cases involving children. They’re more useful in cases where we want them to make children, but that is a discussion for another time. As the police force, until recently, had been complicit in the trafficking situation, using the revamped force to deal with this issue is ideal. It undoes some of the damage they have wrought in past years. There are those we do not want learning of our activities, and so we are hiding it in plain sight. I have already done the paperwork with the FBI and other bureaus in the United States to grant you access to the entirety of the country. We have only looked into the future far enough to understand you two are our best choice for this work.”

“Miss Winfield is hardly a child,” the cop stated, and according to his tone, I disgusted him.

With a rap sheet the length of mine, which boiled down to me being a nuisance when permitted to become bored, it came as no surprise he disliked me. However, as having a brand new but sexy enemy introduced a great deal of spice to my life, I took a few moments to look him over.

According to my virus, he’d be at his most handsome naked and in my bed although she would settle with the removal of his pants for a chance to admire the goods. As I’d come out of my mother’s womb with more than a few cat-like tendencies, and that had been before my infection had matured, I understood my virus’s approach.

If now wasn’t an option, later would be fine, but only if she could toy with him first.

Great. My virus had lost her mind. The thought of six months of community service must have done her in. I liked community service. Sure, I wasn’t paid for the work, but it gave me something useful to do when I wasn’t legitimately earning money elsewhere.

Community service did an excellent job of curtailing my rogue ways as I lacked the time or the energy to create additional trouble after working and doing my time. When unable to become bored, I behaved.

Boredom led me into trouble, always—and I created the trouble to put an end to the boredom.

To keep me out of trouble, the judge had pulled me aside at my first appearance in court and hired me to cool my heels in prison as a plant in the local slammer, grading and rating the prison system and checking for abuses of prisoners. As I liked the judge and had nothing on my schedule, I’d agreed.