Page 203 of Boys Who Hunt

“Because she’s friends withyourmom. They might not like you two fucking around, you know?” Elliot shrugs.

“They’ll just have to fucking deal with it,” I say.

Elliot grins. “That’s the spirit.” He clears his throat. “Hey, weird question … why is there a kid in the Skull and Serpent Society?”

My face goes white. “Uh…”

Well, shit, I never thought I’d be the one to have to explain this.

“It’s Cora. Ivy’s kid,” Max tells him.

“Both of them are staying,” I say. “And I don’t want anyone messing with the two of them. Make sure everyone in the house understands.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Elliot says, saluting me.

I roll my eyes. “Stop the theatrics.”

“Why? I’m having the time of my life. Sue me,” Elliot says, laughing before he grabs the handle again and slowly closes the door. “Enjoy your casual canoodling on the couch. Bye.”

“Casual canoodling …” I parrot through gritted teeth, while Max is apparently dying from laughter so much he’s holding his breath.

Someone shuffles into the room backward, half huddled over while making weirdpsssssounds. And when I look up, my jaw drops. Silas is actually luring Ivy’s cat into the room.

“C’mon, Donut.”

“Donut?” Max sits up straight, and we both watch in shock as Bagel waltzes inside and eats up the kibbles … right out of Silas’s hand.

He guides him all the way to the table and places a kibble down then says, “Up.”

Bagel actually listens to him, and I am too flabbergasted to even know what to say. He’s eating that shit up right out of his hand.

“Good boy.” Silas pats him on the head and then says, “Paw.”

Bagel offers his little toe-beans to him, and they shake on it before Silas offers another treat.

“What the fuck …” I mutter.

“Oh, you’re here too?” Silas says, mildly amused.

“What are you doing?” Max asks.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he replies. “I’m training the cat.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s a quick U-turn you did there,” I say, tilting my head as Bagel literally cuddles up against him.

“This Donut here is a better listener than you two.”

“Hey!” Max sputters. “That’s not fair. He’s a cat. Of course he listens. He gets food and pets.”

“You want kibbles?” Silas holds up a treat, then chucks it at Max. “Say woof.”

“Fuck off,” Max barks back.

“Oh, nice bite,” Silas says, laughing.

“Wait, you’re training him for what?” I ask.

Silas shrugs. “Do tricks. Pick up stuff. Steal things. Maybe attack someone.”