Marianne led me away from the others, down the long hallway leading to Jazz’s chambers. When we’d slipped away from the sight of curious guards and wandering catgirls, she twined her fingers with mine and flashed me a smile.

“You’re not the kind to back down from a challenge,” she said. “I like that.”

My heart hammered against my chest. I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t nervous as hell for whatever awaited us in Jazz’s room. A small voice kindly reminded me that there might be an ambush ready to catch me doing something I shouldn’t be doing. Like Marianne, for example. But the heat in her gaze and the strength of her hand around mine suggested otherwise.

Really, though, Jazz could do whatever she wanted with me if she found me. I deserved it. What I was really worried about was everyone else. “If the others get in trouble for this—”

Marianne shook her head. “She may kill us, but she’d leave the rest of your group alone.”

That’s slightly reassuring.

We stepped carefully through the corridors, speeding past drawn curtains and clinging to the shadows. I’d gone from creeping through a manor as a catgirl, to hiding from packs of zombies, and now stealthing underground with Marianne in hand. Shi Island really had it all.

Jazz’s door was unguarded. Marianne stepped away from me and traced the wall directly beneath a flaming torch.

“Ah, here we are.” She pushed aside a section of stringy moss, revealing a slight hole in the wall. From it, she withdrew a lanky key that she immediately fit into the door’s lock. “Since Jazz is out, no need to guard the door.” She grinned and opened the door. “We’re royalty for the day, eh?”

I hope Keke and Cannoli have plenty for them to do. I looked around the familiar room, my eyes falling again to the vivid red carpet and chipped throne. The chamber smelled heavily of incense and perfumes—a far cry from the dusty, sweaty residents lounging just down the hall.

“Hey, lighten up, Matt. Have some fun.” Marianne prodded me with her elbow.

I pictured Jazz’s icy gaze, imagined her holding the hilt of a dagger she’d plunged into my stomach. “Yeah. I’m trying.”

Marianne crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. “We can leave right now if you’re too scared.”

I locked her steely stare and flashed my best smile. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

Her lips twitched at the corners, and her eyes glittered with mirth. “That remains to be seen,” she crooned, then turned heel and motioned for me to follow. “Come on.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I shivered. Her confidence was contagious, and the sway of her hips and tail was slowly chipping away at my fear.

Marianne lifted a torch from the entryway and lit select ones as we walked. During our introductions, I’d only seen the main hall of Jazz’s room. I had no idea that her chambers branched off far deeper into the cavern.

Decorated screens that must have been salvaged from the old Catania served as partitions for separate “rooms” within the antechamber. A four-post bed with surprisingly clean sheets flanked by night tables and a wardrobe made up a bedroom. Another section was furnished with a sofa and recliners surrounding a low table.

“Why does she get to live like this?” I asked before I could stop the thought from leaving my mouth.

“What do you mean?”

I gestured to the opulent furniture and tapestries on the walls. “I’m guessing she brought a lot of this stuff from up above. But everyone else sleeps on futons or low cots. Your recreation room is one strong sneeze from falling apart. And she gets her own bath?”

The sound of flowing water caught my ear when I mentioned the bath. We rounded a corner, and I froze, gawking at the best thing I’d seen in the last three days.

“Her own hot spring, actually,” Marianne chuckled, nodding her chin toward the “bath.”

A pool twice as long as I was tall with a steadily flowing waterfall lined the right wall. Steam rose from its crystal clear surface. A strained noise escaped my throat, and I recovered, licking my lips. “My question still stands.”

Marianne tugged her braid over one shoulder and pulled the twine holding it together free. She chewed her lower lip in thought while unraveling the tightly bound sections of her hair. “We’d all be lost without her.”

That was difficult to imagine. Sanaia was a fierce fighter, and despite Marianne’s telling of their humble origins, a group of their guards had easily subdued our formidable party. Besides Jazz’s attitude, I’d yet to see anything specific that set her apart from the others. “Why?”

“Jazz’s work in Catania wasn’t exactly… befitting of Shi Island’s code of service. The goods she handled and exported didn’t abide by Nyarlea’s laws. We all knew it but allowed her to continue all the same. It helped our economy if nothing else.” Marianne stroked her fingers through her hair then tossed it behind her. The shining tendrils were the color of fresh coffee grounds and softened her angular face. “These caverns were built long before the Defiled and Encroachers destroyed Catania. She used them for storage and meetings with others in her fold. Like Sanaia.”

That makes sense. “So, she’s like your landlady.”

“Our what?”

Damn. Worth a shot. “You’re crashing in her house. She let everyone live here.”

Marianne nodded. “Those who did know how to fight defended Catania with all their might. Jazz helped stave off the Encorachers until the rest of us could move down here to safety. We owe her our lives.”

That explains the decadence, at least. She’s been at this for a while. “Alright. So, if your name isn’t Jazz, how do you get a bath around here?”

Her smile returned. “We go in groups to the stream that runs through Catania. On most days, we can’t leave because of an Encroacher infestation. Then we have to wait.”

“I see.” And I thought my rent was steep.

“This isn’t the first time someone’s snuck a bath in Jazz’s hot spring, though,” Marianne giggled. “Though, you are the first man to do so.” She stepped toward me and slid her fingers beneath my shirt. “You can ask questions later. We have more important things to do.”

I stroked her hair with one hand and traced the line of her bare throat to her shoulder. “Just an accident, right?”

Marianne smirked. “Of course.” She yanked my shirt over my head and tossed it to the side.

[Memory stored and saved for Catgirls. . .]

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Marianne and I managed to sneak back to the others in one piece. Tristan had finished drawing two of the younger catgirls on the wall and, despite a lack of tools, he’d painted near-perfect portraits. I whistled, impressed as hell, when Ara’s face was suddenly inches from mine.

“Where were you?” she hissed.

“I’ll, uh, leave you to it,” Marianne said, eyeing the enraged maid before making herself scarce.

“I was busy. You were busy. We were all busy.” I shrugged. “Why? Did something happen?”

Ara’s gaze flickered to the retreating Marianne, then back to me. “This is not your island, Matt.”

“I’m aware.” I was getting real tired of Ara and Ravyn’s short fuses. “Look, what’s your problem?” Ever since I’d stepped foot on this island, a constant stream of catgirls made it their business to tell me what to do and how to act. The novelty was wearing thin.

“You left Tristan alone with them!” Her tone jumped an octave, and she fingered one of the blades in her hand. “You promised me you’d watch him!”

“You’re right.” I put a hand on her shoulder and gently turned her toward the group of young catgirls surrounding him. Pitching my best impression of David Attenborough, I murmured, “Just see how the savages render him vulnerable!”

Ara shook my hand away and faced me once more. “What if they had? What if they’d hurt him?”

She’s like an overprotective mother. I set my jaw and matched her stare. “Here’s the deal, and you’re not going to like hearing this, alright? Tristan can make his own choices. He needs room to breathe. You,” I pointed at her for effect, “and the rest of Venicia locked him in a cage. Having him under constant surveillance isn’t helping.”

“You know nothing,” she snarled, raising her blade.

I caught her wrist. “And how do you know what’s best for him? Because Celestia told you so? Look outside, Ara. The rest of your island needs him. And people like you.”

That made her flinch. She relaxed, and I released her arm, letting it drop to her side as my words sunk in. “People like me?”

I nodded. “That’s right. To support him and fight for them.” I pointed to Tristan’s fan club. “These girls need homes and someone in their corner. You can help make that happen. Or you can lock Tristan back up in a room and let them all die.”

“I…I just,” she searched the floor as if the words she sought would appear at her feet.

“Tristan,” Jazz’s voice carried through the hallways, and every other girl in the room stopped talking.

Tristan looked up from his work, then stood and bowed when he realized who addressed him. “Y-yes, Your Majesty?”

Jazz, looking as pristine as she had the night before despite a day spent outside, sashayed across the room. The others made a path for her, allowing her to approach Tristan unimpeded.

Ara stepped forward, and I caught her shoulder. Her chin snapped to the side, and she issued a glare that probably should have killed me, but I gave a single shake of my head.

Jazz tipped his chin up with her thumb and forefinger. It was then that I noticed that she was almost a head taller than him. She tilted his face to the left, then to the right, a frown marring her beautiful face. She leaned forward and whispered something in his ear. Tristan turned five shades of red, ending with a deep shade comparable to Jazz’s hair. When she drew away from him, she wore a sardonic smile and one eyebrow raised.

“Do you not believe you’re up for the task?” she asked. “How unfortunate.”

Tristan swallowed hard, then rubbed the back of his neck. “No. I can. But are you certain?” He looked around the room and sighed. “You know the, uh, consequences, right? Is this place okay for a kittengirl?”

Holy shit. My surprise was second only to Ara’s.

“It’s perfectly safe. And I would ask you not to question me again.

Tristan glanced at Ara and me, then back at Jazz. “Alright.”

“Come along, then.” Jazz lay a hand on Tristan’s back and led him down the hall toward her chambers.

Keke, Cannoli, and Ravyn joined our group shortly after the exchange.

“We took some time to wash up in the stream,” Cannoli announced happily. “Matt, we found so many wonderful things!”

“The stream is filled with fish, and many wild fruits and vegetables grow on its banks. Plenty of the roaches around here have good meat on them, too,” Keke added. “The girls in Catania don’t have to starve at all.”

“That’s great, guys. Seriously.” I had plenty of questions for all of them, and I knew our night was far from over, but I was worried about Ara. Even more worried about Tristan.

“What’s with you? You look like you’re gonna be sick.” Ravyn asked Ara.

“Please excuse me,” Ara whispered. She smoothed her skirt, offered barely a bow, and disappeared into our room.

“Is she okay?” Keke asked.

“Well, whatever.” Ravyn shrugged. “I have good news about the ward, too.”

Cannoli stood on her tiptoes and peered over the other girls in the cave. Buttons crawled to her shoulder and mimicked the movement. “Where’s Tristan?”

“Why don’t we go up top and talk about everything? If it’s still clear outside?” I suggested.

“The only Encroachers we ran into were fairly harmless. We should be fine,” Keke reassured the group.

“I’m going to check on Ara,” Cannoli said. “Keke can tell you about our group before we start dinner.”

Cannoli, the great equalizer. “Alright, sounds good. Let’s head up.”

Ravyn and Keke followed me while Cannoli disappeared behind the curtain.

Tristan’ll be alright, Ara. If there’s one thing he’s an expert in at this point it’s this. I willed the thought toward her.

Never a dull moment on Shi Island.