Chapter 2

Adeline entered her basement apartment and kicked off her shoes with a sigh. Nothing like being barefoot after a day's work.

"Hey, Smudge and Fudge." She greeted her cats lying on the slim ledge of the basement window. The pair stretched, and each opened an eye to peek at her then promptly went back to sleep.

Par for the course. At times she wondered why she fed them. A male and female Siamese with vivid blue eyes she'd found in the alley behind the shop wearing matching collars. She'd tried to drop them off at the local animal shelter, only they were full. Adeline had no choice but to take them home, however, she did her due diligence and put-up flyers. No one ever replied. She wasn't exactly upset given she found herself loving the cute pair. Next thing she knew, she'd bought all the supplies needed; bed, cat tower and toys, fancy food—only to have them eschew everything feline. They preferred fresh fish, never played with toys—unless the occasional rodent or large spider counted—and slept either in the window or on her pillow, usually after nudging her from it.

At times she wondered why they stayed, seeing how they barely paid her any mind. That didn't stop her from trying to earn their affection.

She padded over to her tiny kitchenette with its bar-sized fridge. The fresh can of tuna she pulled from the cupboard brought them trotting, and Smudge even rubbed against her leg for a quick second before she shoved her face into the bowl to chomp. Adeline chose to have salad with lentils for dinner and peaches with cream for dessert.

After she did her few dishes, she turned on the television and half-watched it while sweeping up cat hair. So much hair.

With her small place clean, she sat on her pull-out couch, which doubled as her bed, and sighed. Busy day today. The shop's high prices hadn't deterred a few clients, and so she'd actually had to make sandwiches. Ugh. Not her favorite thing, to be honest. She'd not lied when she told that one client, the good-looking blond, that she didn't do bread or meat.

Vegetarian all the way. Cheese and eggs were her only animal products, and they were ethically sourced, imported from a farm in Nexus. Annie, the owner, delivered monthly.

At ten, Adeline pulled out her bed from the couch and slept for a few hours until a low growl woke her.

"What is it, kitties?" she murmured, rolling onto her back.

Rowr . One of her cats didn't sound happy. Understandable, given she blinked sleep from her eyes to see the ungodly time of two fifty-three a.m.

Sigh. And she had to be up by five.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed as her cats continued to make noise. "I know. I know. Someone's at the door. Give me a second." She reached under the bed and pulled out the taser, freshly charged since the last incident. In her other hand, she held a baseball bat. Good for whacking and less messy than a knife.

Armed, she then planted herself in front of the door and waited.

The knob turned, left, then right, squeaking on purpose. She didn't oil it because she wanted to hear when someone tried to break in on the off-chance one day her kitties decided to not warn her. Who knew cats would make such good guards?

She didn't turn on a light. She knew from experience it wouldn't deter. She waited.

Click .

Her locks never seemed to foil those picking them. And she'd tried. Mega deadbolts. Electronic ones. Specialized custom keys. Even the magically hexed versions failed. It became easier to just let them come in.

The door opened, and there it stood, about four feet tall, its nose pink, like the tip of its tail, with red eyes and whiskers.

A wererat. Not her first.

It hissed and showed yellowed teeth.

"Yeah, yeah, you're vicious," she grumbled. "Let's get this over with."

Before she could dart in and zap it with the taser, a low growl—not of the feline variety—preceded a large dog pouncing the wererat from behind. The first creature uttered a piercing noise of rage as it hit the floor, buried under a massive, black-furred hound. The two began to tussle, with the wererat managing to scramble free. The dog advanced on it, drawing it deeper into the tiny apartment. Not good. While she didn't own much of worth, she'd scrimped for the television and would hate to have to replace it.

The cats jumped to the windowsill and watched with flicking tails as the dog feinted toward the wererat, which swiped with its clawed paw. The big furball lunged and took the wererat to the floor. A chomp to the neck and a crunch of bone led to the wererat going limp.

One down.

The winner looked at Adeline, its eyes unnaturally bright. This was no ordinary dog. Just freaking lovely.

Her cats uttered a low warning growl. Another threat according to them, despite the fact it took out the monster. All she needed to know. Adeline darted forward, taser in hand, and zapped it.

The dog gave her a look of betrayal as its body jiggled. But it didn't fall over, so she swung the bat and connected.

Whack .

The big canine slumped to the floor atop the wererat.

Leaning against her bat, she sighed. Two bodies to get rid of. So much for getting any more sleep tonight.

Before she could grab a rope for hauling, a throat cleared itself in her doorway.

"Sorry to bother, but did you just kill Orion?"

She glanced to see a beautiful man standing there. Ebony-skinned but with light eyes, dressed in loose khakis and a long-sleeve Henley.

"Orion?" She glanced down. "I assume you mean the dog?" Because she couldn't imagine anyone keeping the wererat as a pet. "He's not dead. Just sleeping very soundly." And would have slept forever if she'd dumped him under a nearby bridge. The troll under there appreciated the fresh meat and got rid of the evidence. She'd long ago learned the Cryptid Authority was more headache than help when it came to these kinds of random attacks.

"I told him to not rush in," the beautiful man said with a sigh and shake of his head.

"In your dog's defense, he thought I was in danger. Unfortunately for him, I wasn't sure if he'd attack me next."

The reply led to the man eyeing her taser and bat before giving her a faint smile. "It would seem you had things well in hand. Do attacks of this type happen often?"

Given she didn't know him and, again, didn't want to deal with authorities, she shook her head. "Guess the rat smelled my dinner and wanted to come in for a bite."

The man glanced at her tiny kitchen area with a frown. "I doubt it came for the salad."

How had he known? She pursed her lips. "I think you should take your dog and leave."

"I'm sorry. This must be rather disturbing. Here I am, a strange fellow on your doorstep in the middle of the night. I'm Ambrose." He held out his hand as if he expected her to shake it.

She raised her taser and said, "I'm tired and would like to go back to bed."

"Of course. If you'll give me a moment to gather my friend." She took a step back as he entered her place, but rather than approach her, he knelt by the big dog and muttered, "Idiot." He scooped the beast with little effort but then eyed the wererat still lying there.

"If you give me a moment, I'll remove this for you as well."

"No need. I can handle it."

"I'm sure you can," he murmured. "But allow me."

The man dumped the dog in the tiny outdoor landing and immediately returned to grab the wererat, slinging it over a shoulder. He stared at her, rather intently, before saying, "Sorry to have disturbed you. Be sure to lock up." He then closed the door. She remained staring at it for a moment before engaging the locks.

What a weird night. And forget sleep.

The coffee went on early, and despite her vow to reduce her sugar intake, she made herself a batch of whipped cream to go with her strawberries for breakfast.

In retrospect, it occurred to her to wonder if the man would turn her into the authorities for harming the wererat—not that much would happen. They were considered pests, with very little cognitive thought in their tiny brains, and the minute one attacked they became fair game. That said, the paperwork could be copious, and she had better things to do.

Of interest? How the beautiful man didn't seem shocked by her actions. Even volunteered to help. He must have been walking his dog when it smelled the rat and instinct kicked in. Although who the heck walked their pet at such an ungodly hour?

Not her problem. At least he'd been polite and saved her from lugging the wererat in her large duffel that she kept for such occasions. Third home invasion this month and seventh this year.

As to why it kept happening? She hadn't the slightest clue, but it might be time to move to a more secure building—if she could afford it.

Rental prices had been skyrocketing since Covid and her current place wasn't too bad. The landlord liked her and the fact she always paid on time and that she didn't cause trouble. Moving would mean cutting back on her reading and the fund she'd been growing so she could go on a cruise.

She eyed Fudge and Smudge napping once more. "I'm going to shower. Keep an eye on the place, would you?"

Neither moved, but their tails swished. She'd bring them home something fresh for dinner; they'd earned it. Maybe she'd pick up a bone too, just in case she ran into the beautiful man and his dog again.

Then again, it might be best if they never crossed paths because Adeline tended to be bad luck to those around her. And it would be a shame if he accidentally died.