Cat's Claw (A Calliope Reaper-Jones Novel)

By Amber Benson

Calliope Reaper-Jones is Death's Daughter. She owes a debt to Cerberus, the 3 headed puppy that guards the gate's of hell-a debt that consists of a visit to Purgatory, Las Vegas, old Egypt, and a chit division shop that is extra scary than any supernatural creature she'll ever come upon.

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It used to be oddly silent for a spot so packed with human distress, i made a decision. I suggest, I anticipated to listen to not less than a number of moans of ache, yet there has been not anything, no longer even a snore. I have been crouched down in my hiding position, in the back of the large bronze pot, for nearly twenty mins, and not anything was once taking place, apart from a truly nasty-ass leg cramp in my correct calf. i made a decision that if i needed to get wherever every time quickly, i used to be gonna need to make the 1st flow. I had anticipated to fulfill again up with Bast as soon as we’d gotten to the place we’d been going, yet from the instant I’d opened my eyes and came upon the entire intriguing facilities my new environs held—not—I’d recognized in my intestine that i used to be on my own the following in Jackal Brother land. It used to be most likely all my very own fault besides. I’d simply needed to be a smart-ass concerning the complete “spirit advisor” factor, so I shouldn’t were so stunned to discover myself at the incorrect finish of a passive-aggressive payback from the überspirit advisor Bast, ex- Egyptian Goddess and Queen of the Cats. I whispered a silent apology to my lacking tom cat significant other in hopes that she’d in some way magically look beside me and inform me what to do subsequent, yet after a number of stressful moments of expectation, i noticed she used to be no longer gonna be coming to my reduction. I pulled out my rubidium clock. “How a lot time now? ” I requested, awaiting the ticker tape of flashing numbers to prevent. “Only fifteen hours? ” I acknowledged, incredulously as I learn the string of numbers at the clock entrance. “That’s now not reasonable! ” good, not less than I nonetheless have Senenmut’s loss of life checklist, I mused thoughtfully as I pulled out the paper I’d stolen from the corridor of loss of life. I appeared down on the almost-translucent sheet of stationary—my wager used to be that it was once made from rice paper, yet I wasn’t an expert—and observed an analogous phrases I remembered from my final view nonetheless embossed around the web page. It learn easily: lower than the remand of the Jackal Brothers until eventually extra become aware of. i assumed approximately what that intended and determined that having to hang around during this torture chamber for various hours most likely wasn’t a really great destiny. I’d spent it slow within the corporation of the Jackal Brothers—and have been they fun a minute or what? Uhm, let’s opt for the “or what. ” heavily, they have been of the main stone-faced—and not only due to their stonelike Jackal heads—unresponsive, and missing in any form of a feeling of humor fellows that I’d encounter in a protracted, very long time. frequently, no matter if anyone was once a complete stick within the dust, they might have at the least a few humorousness, however the Jackal Brothers have been completely with out wit or appeal. Frankly, they wouldn’t have recognized a shaggy dog story if it had bitten them at the butt and triggered a boil on one in all their cheeks. after all, through the kind of atmosphere I now discovered myself in, it seemed my little remark approximately them was once greater than legitimate. I stood up, leaving the relative safety of my boiling oil pot, and stretched my legs, shaking out my correct calf in hopes of having rid of the cramp—but no success there. I anticipated to get a number of gasps and/or moans of curiosity from the peanut gallery, yet of the 5 prisoners I counted, just one of them truly had his eyes open.

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