Page 33
Story: Leda's Log
A DESTRUCTION OF CATS
The Plains of Purgatory were lovely this time of year. A lush, velvety carpet of flowers blanketed the ground in soft pastels. Pink and green and yellow and red—nature had reclaimed the monsters’ former stomping grounds. And it was a kinder, gentler nature than the feral plague that had held our world hostage for so long.
It smelled a lot better too. I inhaled deeply, drinking in the soft, sweet scent of early summer. It smelled like life and victory and family.
“This really is the perfect spot for a picnic,” I said to Nero.
“Yes, it is.” He leaned back on his elbows, his manner so easy, so relaxed. “Good thing I thought of it.”
His expression was so adorably smug that I just had to laugh. Sierra was laughing too, but she wasn’t looking at her father. She was totally enthralled by the litter of kittens prancing and pouncing across our enormous picnic blanket.
“Chicken?” Sierra grabbed a chicken wing out of the big bucket and tossed it at the kittens, giggling in delight when they started wrestling one another to claim the prize.
Angel and Shadow were cuddled up at my feet, watching their babies with a profound sense of accomplishment. Oh, and by the way, each of those ‘babies’ was as large as a lion cub.
“They’ll make pretty formidable warriors, don’t you think?” I said, giving Nero’s hip a playful bump with my own.
“Indeed.” He watched the kittens closely. “In time. And with the proper training.”
“You actually think you can train a cat to do anything?” I chuckled.
“Why not?” He brushed a wayward strand of hair out of my face. “After training you, Pandora, even cats should be easy.”
I smirked at him. “Oh, is that so?”
He shrugged.
“Hey, I was an excellent student.”
“Yes.” He leaned in. “Excellent,” he whispered against my lips.
After that, we wrestled a little bit ourselves. The cats didn’t seem to mind. Neither did Sierra. In fact, she started cheering Nero on.
“Go, Daddy!” she squealed in delight. “Win!”
“Thanks for the support,” I told her as I struggled to escape Nero’s iron grip. Man, he really had me pinned.
“Daddy fights better,” Sierra said with a shrug, totally unapologetic.
“Only because he won’t let me cheat,” I said, looking Nero straight in the eye.
As he gazed down upon me, his expression wasn’t just unapologetic. It was triumphant. I cast the bucket of water bottles a longing look.
“Don’t even think about it,” Nero warned me.
“Think about what?” I said with an innocent smile and a demure flutter of my eyelashes.
“Throwing those water bottles at me.”
“I totally wasn’t thinking about throwing them at you.”
“Sure you weren’t.” He leaned down to kiss me.
“Mmm, yes,” I purred. “I like thismuchbetter than getting my butt busted.”
“No!” Sierra disagreed. “Fighting better than kissing! Kissing boring!”
Chuckling, Nero and I sat up and cracked open the picnic basket. Sierra sighed in disappointment, then ran off to chase butterflies with the kittens. Apparently, they were way more interesting than we were.
Table of Contents
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- Page 33 (Reading here)
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