Page 70 of Cats Never Fly

Hestill didn’t look convinced, but he looked more relaxed than he had. “Let’sgo inside.”

“Onlyif you’re sure.”

Henodded.

Itwas a weeknight, so the pub had several empty tables.Asong from the ‘80s that should have stayed in the ‘80s was blasting from the jukebox.The‘80s weren’t my favorite musical era.

Justinside the door to the right was a pool table.Alarge man, a bear shifterIthought, was leaning over to take a shot.Hisass was almost as squeezable and bubble-esque as mySimon’s.Almost.

Twosets of eyes peered out at us from whatIassumed was the kitchen, based on the smells coming from that direction.Assoon as they saw me, they started whispering to one another.Ismiled at them.Theyducked into the kitchen.

Awoman was pouring pints behind the long counter.Shesmiled atSimon, then cast an assessing eye over me.IknewIlooked good.Mysweater, fuchsia with black leather detailing at the collar and cuffs, hugged my body perfectly, and my slim-fitting trousers in a gorgeous eggplant color complemented the top.Ididn’t normally dress in such understated clothes, but my kitty cat wasn’t used to the attention my normal wardrobe would draw.Although,IsupposedWillowLakewas small enough that people would stare at me no matter whatIwore, just becauseIwas the stranger who’d come in with one of their own.

“That’sAlice.She’sa brownie,”Simonsaid. “Hermom and my mama are best friends.IthinkMamaalways hoped one of us kittens would marry her.”

Ifrowned and hooked my arm aroundSimon’s.Simonwas off the market.Everyoneneeded to know that.Isteered him away from the bar and toward the group gathered on the far side of the room.Theywere standing around a few tables that had been pushed together.Someonehad turned up the lights in this section too, althoughIdoubted most of the supes would need thebrighter light to play any of the games stacked on the tables.

Jeremystood in the middle of them all, hugging aScrabblebox to his chest.

“Absolutelynot.”Asmall fire mage was shaking his head vehemently beside him. “Iam not playingScrabblewith you.Itold you the last time we played thatI’dnever do it again.”

Jeremyfrowned. “You’remyBFF,Ash.Whyare you being so mean?Youknow it’s my favorite.”

“Nope,”Ashsaid, crossing his arms over his chest. “Youread too much.Yourvocabulary is…”Hewaved his hand through the air, like he couldn’t find the right word. “Obscene.”

“Ican keep itPG.”Jeremypouted.

“BeingPGisn’t the issue.I’mnot talking about the words themselves,Jer.I’mtalking about the fact that you know and can spell damn near every word in the dictionary.”

“Wecould make it fun.Like…Oh.Iknow.Ifyou don’t care about the words, we could do bonus points for anyone who can form the word fellatio or coitus or?—”

Theother man let out a groan. “Thisis whatI’mtalking about.Youcould have said blowjob or sex like a normal person, but you didn’t.”

“Blowjoband sex are easy.Someonecould put down low, or blow, or job and someone else could build from it.Andsex is only three letters long.Fellatioor coitus would take more work and planning.Although,Iguess someone could put down the word fell…”

Ashturned to the others who’d gathered around the table. “Cansomeone else help me here?”

Acentaur with long blond hair laughed.Iremembered him from the meeting at the police station.Ithought his name wasIsaac. “Iagree withAsh.Theboss man here,” he slappedGageon the shoulder, “he’s been around a long time.Heknows too many obscure words and he’d probably try to throw in oldEnglishspelling or something.”

Jeremysmiled eagerly at the demon. “Doyou likeScrabble,Mr.Dimples?Weshould play some time.”

“Doesthat mean you agree we aren’t playing that tonight?”

“Fine.Yes.”Jeremyrolled his eyes.

“Good,” a calico cat said from where he was sitting beside the stack of games. “BecauseIcan’t playScrabble.”

Thatwas no ordinary cat or cat shifter.Interesting.Ihadn’t expected to see him here.WillowLakewas just one surprise after another.

“Youwant to play too,Paws?”Ashasked.Helooked at the games. “Uh…Iguess we could playHungry,HungryHippos.”

Iimagined the ancient being slapping his paw against a plastic hippo’s butt, and it was spectacular.Iscanned the pile of boxes.Didthey have that game?BecauseIwouldn’t mind recording that and sending it to my family.They’dlaugh their asses off.

“That’sfor children!” the cat protested.

“Well, you don’t have opposable thumbs.Idon’t know what else you could play.Youcan’t hold cards.Youcan’t pull pieces out from aJengastack.Youcan’t hold a pencil to draw a picture forPictionary.Wecan see about gettingsome devices to help with that in the future—I’msure someone must have invented something that will work—butIdon’t know what we can do about tonight.”

“Thesegames suck,”Pawssaid.Histail whipped back and forth in a vicious tempo. “Andyou’re all assholes for bringing them here.”Thenhe started cleaning his face with his paw.