Page 37 of How to Stake a Vampire

“So we can smother them with it?” Didi asked nastily.

Detective Johnson started looking antsy. Barney began tapping a foot. Gavin was trying to push his horns back in.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Samuel said in a hard voice.

I wanted to warn my alpha this could turn into a satire but decided to hold my tongue. Nobody needed extra sass this morning.

We followed the housekeeper and the butler to the blue drawing room.

Samuel stayed slightly behind me, either out of a protective urge or because it was a strategic position for making a quick exit if the cat interview went sideways. Given our track record with Lord Chudwell’s pets so far, I couldn’t exactly blame him. Besides, he had enough feline-related drama to contend with at home without having to suffer it at work too.

Betsy took a deep breath and opened the doors with the look of someone defusing a bomb.

We peered inside a room decorated in all shades of blue. The three Persian cats were arranged on yet another chaise longue, this one covered in indigo damask.

Bella, the white one with the pink bow, sat in the center. She was flanked by the silver tabby Coco and the cream-colored Truffles. All three had their tails wrapped primly around their paws and wore expressions that suggested they were personally offended by our very existence.

“Anyone else think they look like a firing squad?” Detective Johnson asked nervously.

Samuel and I hushed him.

Undaunted by the three cats’ withering stares, Victoria stepped forward.

“Allow me to present Lady Veronica Pearl Whiskerton the Third.”

“Whiskerton?” Detective Johnson hissed. “Really?!”

Didi stepped on his foot.

Pearl ignored the detective and leapt down gracefully from Victoria’s arms. The Persian cats’ eyes narrowed in unison as she approached the chaise longue.

“I understand you witnessed yesterday’s unpleasantness,” Pearl started without preamble, her voice carrying a note of authority I’d only ever heard once before, at the Holts’ ball. “Now, how about you stop being difficult and tell these people what they want to know.”

An icy silence descended upon the drawing room. Gavin gulped audibly. Didi’s knuckles whitened around her pen and notepad. Victoria looked pleased.

Bella lifted her chin.

“And you are?” she asked in a voice dripping with contempt.

“Someone who outranks you.” Pearl sat down and began grooming her paw with deliberate nonchalance.

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees.

I was impressed despite myself.

Unfortunately, Lord Chudwell’s cats weren’t.

“I beg your pardon?” Coco’s voice had icebergs that could have sunk an ocean liner.

“You heard me,” Pearl drawled. “I’m a Hawthorne pack familiar. You’re pets. The hierarchy is crystal clear.”

Truffles hissed and arched her back. “How dare you?—?!”

“Shut it.” Pearl fixed the cat with a stare that could have frozen boiling water. “Let me make something clear. The reason I’m being made to suffer this indignity instead of having a well-deserved nap on a radiator right now is because you three were too busy being precious to help solve a murder yesterday. Your owner is dead and you appear more concerned with your wounded pride than finding his killer.”

The three Persian cats went from haughty to visibly uncomfortable.

“She’s good at this,” I muttered.