Carrion and the Cat (or, Torture by Animal) – Amaruk Wolfheart
Spoilers: Abarat, Abarat: Days of Magic, Nights of War
Warnings and Pairings: As I haven't read the entire quartet (coz the last ones aren't published yet, obviously), I can't promise accuracy on any given situation, character, or place. So, in a few years, when the books during and following the war are out, don't come back and start yelling at me. Please. Pairings: you won't find any romance here unless you want to see it. Friendship for the win, though!
Notes: Mostly, this is a fic for my own amusement when I laughed at the idea of Carrion having a pet. This followed. So don't expect a novel of epic proportions in this – I'm just having fun. (grin) 000 ooo As of August 8, 2008, while writing Chapter Nine, I went through and edited/revamped everything. Some minor details have added, deleted, or changed. ooo 000 Enjoy!
-Rutile's Spectacularly Amazing Disclaimer- The author of this fic owns nothing. Let us all point and laugh. Ha. Ha ha. Ha. The End.
Prologue
Christopher Carrion was fuming.
This was undoubtedly the must humiliating, undignified punishment imaginable. Adding insult to injury, he just knew that the group of imbeciles who had decided to put him through this torment was probably standing around somewhere, laughing hysterically at him, and taking a sadistic pleasure in his discomfort. The thought of pretty boy Finnegan having a good laugh at the expense of the Lord of Midnight was alone enough to make him seethe with rage.
Carrion growled dire threats under his breath, imagining wonderfully violent and painful ways to repay them. Or, more specifically, wonderfully violent and painful ways to repay her.
It all came back to that infernal girl from the Hereafter – Candy Quackenbush. He'd begun having problems as soon as she'd entered the Abarat, and every one of those problems could be traced back to her, including this latest situation.
He was imprisoned. They called it "rehabilitation" and he had several moderately comfortable rooms, but it was a prison nonetheless. And the Prince of Darkness was not accustomed to being confined. Especially not with a hideous, conniving creature sitting on his foot. An endearing mew drew the man's attention. Adoring liquid amber eyes met his furious glare. There came a second mew.
"Hungry again?" he snarled at the thing.
Christopher Carrion was fuming.