Page 27 of Whiskers on Kittens

“What do you want?”

“Your little kitty loves big family dinners. She always goes to her parents’ because she is always worried they won’t feel comfortable in her home. She’s wrong about that, by the way. I would like you to force her to extend the invitation to her parents to come to her domain rather than theirs, as their home is not sufficiently sized for her family and yours. I know you have not had contact with your siblings in quite a while, but it would also please your parents to see the entire family together. I know you do not have contact information for two of your three brothers, but I can handle that on your behalf.” Lucifer raised a brow and engaged the wolf in a staring contest. “You are not a plague bearer in their eyes, but they also have more shame over their behavior than they know how to handle. So, I’m asking you to deal with an entire day of an awkward family gathering, as you will struggle to handle them as well. I can promise that you will be able to mend fences with your family and that your parents will appreciate reconciliation.”

Interesting. There hadn’t been any mention of other family when the issue of his parents’ home had come under discussion.

The scent of dismay polluted the air and made me sneeze.

“Kelsie, they are his older brothers, and after his infection with lycanthropy, they opted to isolate themselves. His parents accepted his status as infected, but they struggled. An unfortunately religious upbringing created prejudice.”

More pieces clicked into place.

The archangels would have wanted to resolve rifts that had been created in His name but without His support—and they would not intervene in a mere house burning down if it meant a family might be healed from long years of separation and conflict.

“Their religious beliefs do not allow for lycanthropy,” Easton stated.

I marveled he somehow kept his tone neutral.

“People change, and my father does not believe in such hatred splitting apart families. It is an equitable exchange. Simply tell your parents that a lady friend has invited you to her home for the holidays and that you want them to join you. I will cover their travel expenses, and I am quite certain she will have no problem opening her guest home for the entirety of your family over the holidays.”

No kidding. As I wanted to contribute to the discussion, I hopped off the bed, went to retrieve my fallen clothes, and gathered them in my mouth before dragging them into the bathroom. Lucifer waited for me to finish getting inside before closing the door.

Understanding the Devil would fill Easton’s head with nonsense if I gave him a chance, I transformed in record time, threw my clothes back on, and emerged before more trouble than I could contain occurred. “He is not lying about my enjoyment of loud family affairs. I’m a negotiator by trade, so I am confident I can handle any disputes among your family with grace and professionalism. I might handle it with my fur coat on and some clawless swiping, but I’m no angel.”

“You really aren’t,” Lucifer agreed.

Easton took Lucifer’s bait, and he examined the FBI badge with his name on it. “I could really become an FBI agent?”

My heart broke for the wolf as his tone conveyed his astonishment that it might even be a possibility.

So many lycanthropes walked in his shoes, and I’d been one of the lucky ones, able to make use of my beauty and smarts to beat the odds. My smarts had opened more doors than my beauty, but when partnered together, I’d been able to go places few other lycanthropes could.

“You can remain a cop, working as a detective on high profile cases while also working for the FBI and the CDC. You would end up working with your little kitty often, as both the FBI and the CDC have wanted access to her skills for a while. She usually negotiates with corporations, but she’s quick on her feet, smart, and compassionate. People like her save lives when badged. If you need someone to talk someone else off a literal ledge, she’s the kind you go to first. Of course, if she really wants, she can talk you right out of your clothes.”

That got the cop raising a brow, and he examined the card. “But this says I’m a special agent?”

“All special agent means is that you are able to carry and use a firearm in the line of duty. It’s your basic operative rank within the FBI. Your experience and skills exceed what the FBI requires to join as a special agent. You’ll need to be trained, as will your kitty, but there’s little your kitty loves more than training, especially when someone else is paying for it.”

“And her badge?”

“She’s on equal grounds with you for this, although her experience is due to her negotiation skills. You’ll have to coach her on the practicalities, but she has sufficient schooling to do the work. She even knows how to record evidence to make it admissible in court, although she will be utilizing angels due to the nature of the case you’re working on. That’s how she’ll get away with completely clearing out those homes of every piece of furniture and even the dust in them.”

“I’m going to need a second bag, Lucifer.”

With a wicked smile, he reached into his suit and pulled out another silken bag the match of the first one he’d given me. “I foresaw that need, as two bags and two people using them will make clearing out the homes quite quick.”

“And perhaps two of those magical ether-soaked rags.”

Once again, he reached into his suit and pulled out a pair of little plastic baggies, each with a folded piece of pale cloth inside. “It isn’t actual ether, as that would be dangerous, but these will induce an unconscious state on whomever breathes the magic in. They have a hundred uses each, and the dose lasts for six hours. We are prepared to handle any volume of materials, pets, and people you send our way when you begin your task. Try to limit how many strays you rescue, please.”

I pouted. “You mean all of them?”

“I do mean all of them. You cannot rescue every single street cat and dog to cross your path, but there will be one or two you won’t be able to resist. Just try to be sensible.”

“I’ll try,” I promised, accepting the baggies. After making a show of thinking about it, I handed the new bag and one of the baggies to Easton. “The black sack becomes a portal to his many hells. Some of the victims won’t cooperate when we go to set them free, so we’re going to scuffle with them, knock them out, and punt them straight to the Devil, who will take care of making sure they understand they’re being rescued. And well, the ones that aren’t in need of rescue better disappear off into your dungeons somewhere, never to be seen again.”

Lucifer chuckled. “Are you sure you are not going to regret that?”

“If I mistake a trafficker for a victim, I want that trafficker rotting in your many hells. Fuck their day in court if they’re willfully selling other women to the market. If they are doing it because they want to, they can enjoy their punishment. Look, I wasn’t brought into this because I’m a nice person. I was brought in because I’ll get the job done.”