Page 92 of The Devil May Care

“That’s not a cat, Kay! That’s a baby Ember Maw! Look at its eyes! It’s not even trying to hide the evil!”

“Whoa—what are you doing?” I blurt, freezing mid-step as Sarai’s hand darts to the blade I know she keeps tucked under her skirt. Her eyes are fixed on George. My cat. My sweet, smug, absolutely unbothered George, who was currently winding between my ankles like he owns the realm.

“That thing,” Sarai hisses, “where did it come from?”

“He’s mine.” My heart jumps, half indignation, half panic. “Caz brought him here for me. You thought he was an Ember something?”

“Ember Maw. Hellcat,” she says, as if that clarifies anything. “Beasts of flame and fury. Born in the molten heart of this realm.” Her voice drops, reverent and edged. “They’re highly territorial. Aggressive. They kill indiscriminately—not to feed, but to remind everything else what power looks like.”

I glance down at George. He blinks up at me, slow and bored, as if the only thing he plans to kill is my patience and the rich, red curtains. “Right. Terrifying.”

“You haven’t no idea of which you speak.” Sarai’s expression doesn’t soften. “Even the Sovereigns tread lightly where Ember Maws roam. Their fire is older than the Flame itself.”

“And you thought he was one of those?” I swallow. The air feels thicker suddenly, hotter.

“For a heartbeat. No one in Crimson has ever seen their young.” Her gaze lingers on my cat. “Let’s hope the Realm doesn’t make the same mistake.”

We’re both staring at George when his head shakes with a violent sneeze. Sparks—tiny, harmless, gold—flickered in the air and die before hitting the floor. That’s new. Sarai’s eyes widen and I pretend not to see.

“Okay,” I manage through laughter, “first of all, he’s twelve. He’s just old and angry and full of hate, but that’s normal for him. Second, this is George.”

“George,” she repeats, like that somehow makes it worse.

George, traitor that he is, stretches out on the bed and lets out a theatrical mrowr, like he’s been gravely insulted.

“I can’t believe you thought he was an…Ember cat? Hellcat?” I say, wiping tears from the corners of my eyes. “What, you think he dragged me under the bed and fluffed me to death?” Actually, there have been nights I’ve woken up gasping for air, all because George decided my face would make a good pillow. I keep that to myself.

“I didn’t know!” Sarai exclaims, hands still hovering like she might need to fight him off. “He grumbled at me, Kay.”

“He grumbles at everyone. That’s his love language.”

She hesitates a moment longer, then steps into the room like the floor might betray her. “You’re… okay?”

I nod. The laugh’s fading already, and I feel the weight settle back into my ribs. “Yeah,” I say softly. “Just me and The Beast.”

“Beast?”

“Caz calls him that now. I think they reached some kind of mutual respect arrangement.”

George glares at the ceiling like it personally offended him. Sarai watches him warily.

“He’s just so hairy and sharp.”

“That’s an understatement.” I snort.

She laughs, a soft, reluctant sound. “So, you’re really okay?”

“As okay as I can be. Caz is… not around.” I shrug as if I’m totally unbothered, but it’s a lie. Sarai glances away, and my stomach drops.

“You thought I was with him.”

She nods. “After earlier… I figured he would’ve stayed.”

Me too.

“Guess it’s just me and George,” I say, rubbing behind his ears. He leans into it, humming like a smug little engine. “My emotional support hellbeast.”

“He was probably summoned.” She smiles, then sobers again. “They’ve started preparing the courtyard.”