Page 30 of Bonding Beasts (Bonding: The Ultimate Guide #3)

K i m i

I knew our dog was special. A good mix of sweet and salty. A chihuahua that does black magic or voodoo. Adorable. I’m confident that he’ll keep my wifey safe, even if I disagree with him on most things.

Like, when I say bring her now, I mean now .

Maybe he hasn’t learned to fetch yet. I need to get some tennis balls and some slippers. A newspaper to roll up when he’s bad.

Speaking of bad, I look over to King and Mal. Both are still tied up, not looking at each other, neither speaking. Boring.

Wifey didn’t ask us for help, so sitting still is probably the best move. They can jump when she says they can.

But doesn’t she need a teensy-weensy bit of help? If she was evil, I have no doubt she would be crushing the life out of this planet. Since she’s not…

Not evil.

This new reality is taking longer to get used to than before. I don’t like it. I want to follow her and cuddle up for nap time, but I know she won’t let me.

I can still smell her terror from earlier, and I caused it. I just wanted everything to be perfect when she came home, and I ruined it. Mitri could have told me to stop, not that I would have listened or anything. It’s half his fault. Halfsies on the blame for this one, Hubby #2.

“You idiots! You can’t show a trauma victim the instruments they used to torture her!”

Who hurt my wifey? They were all good tools, practical, and now on fire in a barbecue pit outside.

Did someone crush out her evil before I got to her? Was it Ken? Nah, he said they . Besides, that Human was too sappy for torturing a little girl. Just like me. Kits are special cases. They don’t get touched. Even if you know they’re going to be world-shattering evil.

Not evil.

Did I fall asleep on my feet?

I haven’t done that since I was set on boundary duty as a kit. Snoozing with your eyes open is a unique skill, and I’m ranked at 100% on it.

Nobody has moved, but Ben is rummaging around in the kitchen, muttering about ‘Stubborn immortals.’ It’s nice to see them getting along so well. Oh shit! He’s hubby #4! I thought we were missing something!

He returns to the table with a large plate overflowing with pieces of cold-cut ham and steak with a side of cooked beef patties. I need to pick up some canned food while I’m out.

I’m going out? When did I decide that? It must have been during standing sleep time.

He eats with the single-minded focus Mitri has perfected but doesn’t chew. He just rips his food and swallows. Table manners training, too, then.

King and Mal are watching him warily, like he’s about to spring a surprise on them. They forgot that dogs don’t do jump scares. That’s for cats only.

“You’re going to let her go alone to face a Delegate?” King asks, breaking the sound of heavy swallowing.

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

My nemesis has a point. Unfortunately, it isn’t a knife sticking out of his neck.

My wifey should not be out by herself getting killed. There’s something in the hubby laws that restricts that, right? I should have paid better attention during the vows. Is there a synopsis out there? I need to brush up.

Ben huffs a laugh, “ Let her? You try stopping her when she’s made up her mind.”

“She’s a Mender,” Mal argues uselessly. He rears back in his seat at the sound of the doggo’s voice but keeps on point with his argument. “What does she think she can do? Talk her way into getting the ring?”

Bad form cuddle-bear. My tail whips up and smacks him on the back of his head. If I ‘accidentally’ draw blood from the back of King’s neck while I’m pulling the unruly thing back, oops, my bad.

“What the fuck, Kimi?” Mal snarls out loud enough to shake the table.

I reach for the silence cloth next to the doggo’s plate and slap it in place over Mal’s mouth.

“My wifey is trying to sleep. Keep it down.”

Ben eyes me contemplatively, and I do the same to him. He really should have been the one to gag him, but you can only expect so much out of your dog, am I right?

His voodoo eyes are mesmerizing and stomach-turning. I’m claiming motion sickness.

“She isn’t your wife.” He says calmly and tilts his head as he waits for my response.

I don’t have one. Everyone says that, and it isn’t true. Are we not married in this reality? Were we ever married in any reality? I’m losing me.

This reality sucks . I don’t want it. My wifey isn’t evil, but she won’t cuddle me. She’ll snuggle with the dog all night, but her rightful husband gets shoved out of bed? There’s something so common and not right about that.

My tail snakes across the table and upends the plate onto the floor. He was finished with most of it anyway. Only two pieces of ham fell to the floor.

His lips draw back from his growing teeth, and I tap him on the forehead with the tip of my tail, “Bad dog. Keep it down.”

A brave brownie scurries out of one of the lower cabinets in the kitchen to clean up the mess. I watch her impassively.

Where do they go when they hide in the cabinets? I’ve tried to scare them by opening the doors, but they disappear. Maybe I’ll finally break down and just follow one.

A choking sound interrupts my thoughts, and I glance around to find the source.

My tail is wrapped around King’s neck, squeezing. Oops.

“Bad tail,” I don’t withdraw it.

“Bees will be pissed if you kill him,” Ben quietly growls.

Much better. But if the dog drags out a vacuum while my sugartits is trying to sleep, I will beat him to death with it.

It will take a while, but I’m down for it.

Let’s see him reassemble in a vacuum cleaner bag. He has a good point, though.

My tail drops from King’s neck abruptly at his words. I don’t want her to be angry with me. Her fear is agonizing enough.

“What do I do?” I ask the dog.

What husband hasn’t asked their dog for advice during marital problems? My solution of rubbing up on her or yowling until she forgives me doesn't seem feasible when she can’t even look at me.

“Do?” He asks in surprise. I imagine this is the same face any pet would make when they don’t understand English. He should let me put cat ears on him. It would add effect to that head tilt. Maybe floppy bunny ears. I’ll pick some up while I’m out. Have I figured out why I’m going out yet?

“She won’t look at me,” I’m not whining, you’re whining. Shut up.

“You’ve killed her five times. She relives it every night,” his eyes do their voodoo thing, and my stomach tries to crawl into my lungs. You don’t belong there, settle down. “I’m not sure how you expect to fix that.”

“Wooing, you say? How do you woo?” I ask.

Don’t judge me. I’m new to this. It’s never too late to bring a spark back into your marriage.

You just have to put effort into it, right?

I still don’t know if she likes nachos. That’s something any husband would know about their wifey. Could I be… a lousy husband?

No.Just no.

It doesn’t matter what reality I’m in. I am an excellent hubby!

Sure, I’ve made a few mistakes, but nothing flowers and candy won’t fix. Nachos with peppers. Grilled cheese? The heads of her enemies. No, tail, stop it!

It uncoils from around King’s neck again, and the spines retract. The damned thing has a mind of its own, I swear.

“I don’t think you can woo your way out of it,” King supplies in the most irritating supervillain unhelpful voice. It’s good that I’m mad at him because I can pay even less attention to him now than ever.

“Someone’s never been in a meaningful partnership before,” I deadpan flatly.

Mal rolls his eyes towards me incredulously. He’s so adorable when he’s indignant. I pull out my phone to snap a picture to laugh about later. You know when my laugh comes back from where it’s hiding. Does this reality not include laughter? I’m so screwed if it’s true.

“Can you laugh here?” I ask the doggo, drawing him away from contemplating King and Mal.

Everyone stares at me briefly before turning back to face one another.

Is that a no?

So… screwed.

Not evil.

I know, voice in my head! I get it! My wifey isn’t evil in this reality! We should be happy, happy, happy about it! Give me my fucking laugh back!

I’m starting to get ragey. I need something to take my mind off the lack of funnies in my life. Surely, there’s someone out there I can kill. But not just anyone… let me think, let me think.

“I’m going to release you both,” Ben says, tilting his head the other way.

“I said let me think.” All the emotion has left my voice, too. What’s next? I’m not going to lose my tail, am I?

“I didn’t mean it when I said you were bad,” I say down to it. Without inflection, it sounds creepy. Maybe talking out loud in front of the wifey should come to a halt for a bit. Just until she’s wooed. Can you woo silently?

“The three of you have one night here, then you need to get out,” he continues talking but is looking at me with a frown.

“Why one night?” King asks, all suspicious-like.

“You’re getting a head start,” I reply.

“You leave too,” he points one clawed finger at me. It isn’t a cat claw; no curve to it. It’s more like a letter opener attached to the end of his finger. He's an off-brand nightmare haunter. Maybe he was sent to one of those consignment shops, and Bae picked him up there out of pity.

Oh no. My wifey isn’t just not evil. She’s nice .

WHAT DO I DO WITH THAT?????

“Are you listening?” He growls in his mini chihuahua voice. Really, she’s practically benevolent for giving this voodoo pup a chance at a second life.

Oh no, oh no. That means people could take advantage! She needs me! I can fix this. I can. I just need a plan. I can have a plan. Of course, I can. What am I good at?

“He’s gone, let it go,” King says with disdain. How dare he be such a villain! Just for that, I smack him on the back of the head. Concussions don’t count as killing.

His head does a satisfying snap forward, and he growls low in his chest.