Who? | The Dhampir (Book Two)

II

George

"Take the cat." I hand Mr. Tuna to Clarkson.

"What?" he whispers. "I don't like Mr. Tuna," he confesses.

"Meow," the cat says as if he understands what Clarkson said.

"Why?" I carry the caramel Persian cat off my bed. My arms wrap around his waist and cuddle him like a teddy bear. His tiny paws rest on my arms. Clarkson's gaze lands on Mr. Tuna. He quickly looks away and clears his throat.

"Aunt Liz doesn't like pets, or should I say doesn't trust me in taking care of pets. She might take Mr. Tuna away from me and look for someone to take care of him," I pout.

Clarkson closes his eyes and bites his lower lip. The strands of his long wavy red hair fall on his forehead as he quickly looks down to avoid my gaze. It grew long since he became busy taking care of us 'civilians'. He rolls up the sleeves of his beige sweater and takes a deep breath.

"Why don't we just let others take care of it?" he asks.

"What!? Why? Should've given him back to Stacey instead!"

"Please? Just for today," I reassure him.

"Alright." His long legs walk towards us. With a grunt, he reaches for the furry cat.

"We should bring him with us next week," I say and rub the cat's chin.

"What!?" Clarkson exclaims. "We shouldn't!" he whines.

"As of now, he's my cat," I say. My arm reaches for Mr. Tuna's picnic basket.

"No, Stacey asked me to take care of him. Besides, this is from one of the vampires' allies," he reminds me.

"Then why did you take him?" I ask and glare at him.

"Because she's not lying," his eyes scan the cat as if it's a deadly weapon.

"It's a cat, Clarkson." I open the lid for him.

"Still, it's from vampires, Georgina," he fires back and carefully puts the cat in the basket.

"You said Stacey's not lying," I glare at him.

"I know! But–"

"Are you jealous of the cat, Mr. Bailey?" I smirk.

"N-no!" his eyes widen.

"You don't even--"