Indigo & Iris by Stunich C. M

Indigo & Iris by Stunich C. M

Author:Stunich, C. M. [Stunich, C. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Romance
Amazon: B07MB7DTT5
Goodreads: 43429845
Publisher: Sarian Royal
Published: 2012-09-24T07:00:00+00:00


“You might've told me you had a talking cat,” I told Lynx over mashed potatoes dripping with gravy and a cut of prime rib that melted in my mouth with each excruciating bite. I wanted to throw myself on it but was trying to restrain my frenzy lest Lynx realize how much I was actually enjoying his cooking. “And how the fuck do you cook a prime rib in an hour?”

“Damn it, Edgar,” Lynx said, slamming his fork on the table and glaring down at the little cat who crouched at the edge of an equally piled plate of meat and potatoes. “You said you were going to tell her.” Edgar raised his face, licked his lips, and then went back to eating. Lynx leaned over, having suggested that despite the vastness of the table, that we sit right next to one another, and touched my elbow. “He told me he'd tell you himself. Sorry about that.”

“You're insane,” I told him confidently as I raised a dark bottle to my lips. It was alcohol, to be sure, but what kind was up for debate. At that moment though, I couldn't have cared less; it was warming my belly and blurring the edges of the puzzle pieces that now made up my life.

“As far as the prime rib,” Lynx gestured at the cat. “Edgar started it in the oven this morning, didn't you, Edgar?” Edgar hissed at Lynx and kept eating.

“That's fucking lovely,” I said, not wanting to start another argument. The cat put the meat in the oven and seasoned it to perfection. Fine. Whatever. “And don't think that the fact that your cat is named Edgar, your bird is named Allan, and my dog is named Poe hasn't escaped my attention.” Lynx drew his brows together.

“You know,” he said, draining half of his beer in one gulp. “You're right. Dagnabbit, the world does the craziest things.” I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to the cat. He couldn't possibly be any worse of a conversationalist than the crazy man to my right.

“So, Edgar,” I began, trying to pretend that the whole situation wasn't weird. I could hear thunder rumbling in the distance, growling menacingly and promising pain. I ignored the dirt trickling in under the door in the corner and tried to imagine that there wasn't a dust blizzard the likes of which I had never seen, raging just outside some flimsy wooden shutters. “How long have you known Lynx?”

“Andrew,” the cat enunciated clearly, locking eyes with Lynx. “Found my mother and I in a dumpster when he was seven and voilà, now we're here pretending to enjoy one another's company. Isn't that delightful?” I raised my eyebrows and took another drink. Damn this is good. Lynx rose from his chair, blatantly ignoring the cat's teasing and offered me another. I took it and drained half. Better slow down, Indigo, I told myself. If you get drunk, you might as well say goodbye now because you get less than useless.



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