They were common cats. Bob's kittens, the product of her naughty, childish fling in the woods. She had betrayed Madame, who had been so kind and spent so much money to provide a good father. How could common cats live in such a noble household? Madame's pedigree, she knew (for humans have them too) was longer and more ancient than her own. This was why she had selected an aristocratic cat to be her companion. She could not be expected to provide for these mongrel kittens.
Yet the white kitten was the product of a joyless, mechanical pairing, while her sons had been conceived in love. And whatever their paternity, she loved them all equally. She had done wrong, but these little innocents, the result of that wrong, must not suffer for it. There could only be one solution: she must leave Madame.
Yet the white kitten was the product of a joyless, mechanical pairing, while her sons had been conceived in love. And whatever their paternity, she loved them all equally. She had done wrong, but these little innocents, the result of that wrong, must not suffer for it. There could only be one solution: she must leave Madame.
Jez Redfern: My father broke the laws of the Night World. He fell in love with a human, and they got married, and here I am.
