"OH MY GOD," Mailah breathed.
"Your cat," Grayson said flatly.
"Our cat," Mailah corrected, already moving. "She's a family problem now."
They sprinted toward Shadow, who had somehow wedged herself between two market stalls with her prize, looking like a tiny black dragon guarding stolen treasure. The chicken was almost as big as she was.
"How is she even—" Elin started.
"Don't question it," Oliver said, already pulling out his wallet. "Just find the vendor."
They found him—a burly man with an impressive mustache and an expression that suggested he'd seen many things in his life, but never a cat stealing an entire rotisserie chicken.
"Mi dispiace! Mi dispiace tanto!" Mailah apologized breathlessly, her broken Italian tumbling out. "La gatta è... she's..."
"Possessed by demons?" Lucien supplied helpfully.
"Not helping," Grayson muttered.
