Page 133 of Sigils & Spells

That was the name on the cage anyway, though the giant cat inside it looked nothing like what he imagined a Chester should.

The cat was pitch black and unlike all the other kittens and cats who were rubbing against the cage and meowing, some even reaching through the cage to bat at them as they walked by—and Jared was pretty impressed the cats weren’t put off by the scent of wolves in their territory—this cat was stretched flat, chin resting on a stuffed wolf, deep, unrelenting black eyes glaring at them, as if daring them to stop and pet him.

Of course, Jared had to accept that challenge.

He stopped in front of Chester’s cage and reached a couple fingers inside to stroke the cat’s paws that were within reach.

Or at least he tried to.

The minute his fingers entered the cage, Chester swiped an angry paw at him, hissing in fury.

The most impressive part about it was that Chester never lifted his head from the wolf or reared back when he hissed.

He just stayed in the same lazy sprawl, head on his stuffed toy, and swatted Jared’s hand, ripping some skin away in the process.

Jared shook out his hand and chuckled.

“I see you met Chester,” the volunteer who was showing them around said.

“What’s his story?” Corwin asked.

“He belonged to an elderly gentleman who recently passed away. His relatives tell us that Chester had lived on the streets until the man took him in, so he’s really mostly feral. Perhaps it would have been kinder to let him go back to the streets, but none of us could bear to do that. He’s already so sad from losing his owner.”

Jared let out a grunt.

That right there was part of the problem.

Hisowner.

Humans were so ridiculous. As if anyone couldownanother living being.

Chester wasn’t upset because he’d lost hisowner.He was devastated because his lifelong companion had passed away.

“We’ll take him,” Jared said.

Corwin raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

“Are you sure?” The woman asked. “It’s important you be absolutely certain because poor Chester can’t go through this again.”

“We’re sure,” Corwin said.

Twenty minutes later, they drove way from the shelter, a giant, yowling, hissing, very angry cat in a carrier in the backseat of Jared’s truck and the bed full of other cat paraphernalia he’d somehow been conned into purchasing.

Essentials, of course, like cat food, a litter box and litter, but also a giant cat tree and a bag full of toys, a cat bed and a perch the woman had sworn Chester would adore if he placed it by a window.

“You’re a sucker,” Corwin snorted. “Tell me again why we have a cat, not a kitten?” He had to practically yell in order to be heard over Chester’s yowling. “Actually, tell me why we came here for a kitten in the first place?”

Jared just sent him a look, but didn’t bother to answer.

Corwin snickered. “So, where exactly are we going? Because you just missed the turnoff to the den.”

“I thought we’d get some advice about cats from the only person I know who actually takes care of one.”

Corwin burst into laughter. “Are you talking about Pippa? Dude, you don’t even know her. She didn’t look at you once in the diner. The only person she spoke with was that wolf, Matthew, so unless he’s with us, I doubt she’ll know who you are.”

Jared scowled.

Matthew.

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