A wolf whistle trilled offensively through the room. I spun around and opened my mouth to give the culprit a dressing down. But then I stopped.
“Hello, gorgeous. Give us a kiss.” The green parrot perched on a bird stand made kissy noises.
I laughed. “How did I not notice you before? You are gorgeous.” I made kissy noises back.
The parrot bounced up and down. “Frank is gorgeous. Frank is gorgeous. Give us a kiss.” Brief flashes of Mrs Soames’s cockatoo, Ethel, threatened to ruin this interaction, so I pushed it out of my mind. Having that bird living with us was something I’d rather forget.
“As cute as you are, I’m not looking for a pet right now. Sorry, Frank.” Frank cocked his head to the side and regarded me. Way to make me feel guilty.
Millicent turned from her conversation with the woman at Feathered and Furry Friends Animal Shelter and smiled. “Why don’t you adopt him?”
“Yes, because I’d love for Angelica to kick me out of home. Plus, I cherish my sleep-ins. If Ethel’s anything to go by, I’d be up at the crack of dawn every morning. Yeah, nah. Why don’t you adopt him?”
“He’s not in love with me.”
“Love at first sight doesn’t exist, and he hardly knows me, so I doubt he loves me either.” I pulled a silly face. “Besides, if I turned up at home with a new boyfriend, Will would be less than impressed.”
Jane, the thirty-something-year-old running the shelter, laughed. “I’m sure you couldn’t blame your partner. Frank is a handsome boy.” She turned to the bird. “Aren’t you, Frank?”
He bobbed up and down. “Give us a kiss.” He wolf-whistled. Seemed I wasn’t his only love. Was it wrong of me to be a bit disappointed that I wasn’t as special as I’d thought?
Jane scratched his tummy, then turned back to us. “Okay, ladies. As I was telling Millicent, we had a whole lot of animals adopted out a couple of weeks ago. A lovely retired woman came in and scooped up ferrets, cats, dogs, a couple of birds, and rats. She has a farm and loves to look after rescues. While I’m overjoyed that they found their forever homes, it means we only have two rats for you to choose from, and we only have those because their thirteen-year-old owner’s mother was sick of the smell. You really do need to change their wood shavings regularly. Follow me.”
We wandered through the hallway and out a back door to a long room that looked like a converted shed. Cages on either side of the middle aisle sat on a concrete floor. Most of them were empty. I counted a couple of cats and three dogs. I stopped at the first occupied cage and bent to chat to an orange cat that was pushing its face to the bars, but Millicent dragged me onwards. Her face strained, she whispered, “Keep walking. I can’t stop. If I do, I’ll end up taking home a whole bunch of animals James won’t want.”
“Oh, okay.” Understanding dawned, and her sadness seeped into me. She could hear the animals begging for love, for a safe, comfortable home with their own humans. I reluctantly let her sweep me onwards, like a piece of driftwood in a raging river. Maybe I should consider adopting an animal—it’s not like our home was overrun with pets, and I’d wanted one for a while. Goodness knew I was home alone quite often, and companionship from a warm, soft cat or dog would be welcome.
Jane stopped. “Here we go.” On top of an empty wire cage sat a smaller fish tank, which contained wood shavings, a nest of tissues, multi-coloured running wheel, and small water distributor stuck on the side of the glass. A caramel-coloured rat snuggled up to a dark-brown one that had a white heart-shaped spot on its back. “Here are Cinnamon and Bagel. Bagel has the heart on her back. They’re gentle and friendly. They don’t mind being handled and love to snuggle in pockets, but they might leave a present.” She chuckled. I eyed the rats. I did not want poo in my pockets, no matter how small. “We do prefer they be adopted together. They’re sisters, and in their six months of life have never been separated.”
Millicent smiled. “Hey, girls.” She bent so she was eye level with the animals. I didn’t feel her magic, but talking to animals was her talent, so if she wasn’t trying too hard, she wouldn’t need extra power to do her thing. Both rats looked up, noses twitching. Mill looked up at Jane. “Can I put my hand in and have a pat?”
“Of course.” She carefully took the glass lid off.
Millicent stuck her hand in. The rats tentatively approached it and sniffed. “That’s it. Come on.” She placed her palm up. “On you get.” They looked up at her, and she nodded encouragement. They stepped on, and she lifted them out of the cage and up to her face. They touched noses with her. After a minute of her quietly regarding them and they her, she carefully placed them back in the cage. “I’ll take them both.” I wondered what their conversation consisted of. Had she mentioned she had a PIB assignment for them? Not that animals knew what the PIB was. Which led me to another question. Why didn’t they have a special animal unit within the PIB? Talking to animals wasn’t a common talent, but it wasn’t unheard of. Surely they’d have two or three agents who could talk to animals? They’d be a real asset when fighting crime. The non-witch army, border security, and police already relied on dogs and ferrets.
Jane beamed. “That’s wonderful. Let’s fill in the paperwork. Have you got a cage and food for them?”
“Yes. I’m all sorted. Lots of fruit and veg and some liver. We’re ready to add to our family.” She chuckled. The liver part made me cringe, but I supposed someone had to eat it—better a rat than me.
After completing the paperwork and bringing a box in from the car, Millicent gathered her new family members. I slid into the passenger seat of her car, and she gave me the cardboard box to hold. “Are they okay in there?”
“Yep. I explained what was happening. They’ll just sleep until we get home.”
She shut my door, walked around the car, and got into the driver seat. She started the car, and as we pulled out into the street, I made a bubble of silence. “Did you grab them because they were the only ones, or do you think they can do what we need?”
“Luck is on our side. They’re perfect. Most rats are smart, but these are super smart. They’re suitable for familiars too, but I don’t want them linked to me forever, so once their assignment is done, they can be family pets. Linking them as familiars would make things easier, and give them added understanding, but they’re smart enough to do what I’ll need them to.”
“How long will they take to train?”
“A week or two. I’ll find out what their favourite treats are, and we’ll go from there.” She chuckled. “In fact, if I had a few double-chocolate muffins, I bet I could teach you a whole lot of things.” She smirked.
“Ha ha, very funny.” I laughed in spite of the insult—it was made in good fun after all. And it was probably true. I made my voice high and mousey. “Squeak, squeak.”
Millicent concentrated for a moment and glanced at the box. She smiled. “Bagel said you did a terrible rat impression, and to stick to humanning.”
I laughed. “Did Bagel say that, or was it you?”
We stopped for a red light, and she turned to me, her face earnest. “It was Bagel. Honestly. When we get home, I’ll show you exactly how much they understand.” She smiled. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before.” Wow, if it was going to be more impressive than her talking a giant squirrel off a roof, this was going to be something. The light turned green, and I nodded at it.
As we took off towards home, I cradled the box in my lap. With a bit of luck, these cute little creatures were going to help us track down the leaders of Regula Pythonissam. After losing Graham, the politician, in an explosion in which his secretary and three others also died, we needed to ramp up our efforts. Their senseless murders were a reminder that we were dealing with a dangerous organisation that would stop at nothing to cover their tracks.
And we were going after them. With the help of rats.
I was pretty sure we could admit we’d fallen into a ravine of desperation. Were we going to climb out the other side, or would our enemies bury us there?
I closed my eyes and ignored the inner voice that whispered there was a good chance we’d fail. I could do without the negativity. With the wrong attitude, we’d disable ourselves and do RP’s job for them. That wasn’t who we were.
Not by a long shot.
