Untamed

Now, what can Street Cats do for the House of Night?"
    My mind was still having trouble grasping the fact that this nun was so totally okay with vampyres, but I mentally shook myself and focused enough to say, "As the Leader of the Dark Daughters, I thought it would be a good idea if we got involved with a local charity."
    Sister Mary Angela's warm smile was back. "And, naturally, you thought of cat rescue."
    I returned her smile. "Yes! The truth is, I haven't been Marked very long, and I think it's weird that even though our school is smack in the middle of Tulsa, we're so isolated from the city. It just doesn't feel right to me." She was really easy to talk to, and I found myself opening up to her. "That's what brought me—" I caught Aphrodite's frown from my side vision and hastily added, " us —that's what brought us here. We thought it would be cool if we could volunteer to help with the cats, and also raised money for Street Cats. Like maybe we could sponsor a flea market and give you guys the money we make."
    "We're always in need of money and experienced volunteers. Do you own a cat, Zoey?"
    My grin widened. "Actually Nala owns me, and she'd tell you that if she were here."
    "You do, indeed, have a cat," she said. "And what about you, Warrior?"
    "Nefertiti, the most beautiful calico in the world, chose me as her own six short years ago," Darius said.
    "And you?"
    Aphrodite looked like she wanted to fidget, and I suddenly realized that I'd never seen a cat with her.
    "No. I don't have one," Aphrodite said. When the three of us stared at her, she shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know why, but no cat picked me."
    "Do you not like them?" the nun asked.
    "I like them okay, I guess. It just seems they don't like me," Aphrodite admitted.
    "Huh," I said with a little too much suppressed amusement, and she glared at me.
    "That's quite all right," Sister Mary Angela inserted smoothly. "We can still put a willing volunteer to work."
    Jeesh, the nun wasn't kidding about putting us to work. I told her we had time to give her a couple of hours or so before we had to head back to school, and she started cracking the whip. Aphrodite automatically coupled up with Darius, clearly enjoying her part in the whole "keep the warrior busy so Zoey can rendezvous with Stevie Rae" (who had not shown yet) plan, and Sister Mary Angela sent the two of them into the cat room to clean litter boxes and brush cats with the two other nuns on duty, Sister Bianca and Sister Fatima, who Sister Mary Angela had introduced to the three of us very matter-of-factly, like it was totally normal that fledglings and vampyres (with their Marks covered) were volunteering in the community. I'm not a particularly slow learner, so by this time I'd stopped waiting for a nun freak-out, and it dawned on me that these religious women were a whole different type of "religious" than my horrid step-loser and his People of Faith sycophants. (Yes, thank Damien for my increased vocab.)
    Sadly, Sister Mary Angela sent me to inventory hell. Apparently the nuns had just gotten in a shipment of various cat toys—a big shipment, like a massive box of more than two hundred feathery, mousey, catty toys—and Sister Mary Angela ordered me to log each separate (and annoyingly perky) cat whatnot into their computer system. Oh, and she also quickly taught me to use their "newfangled" (the nun's word for it) cash register computer system, and then she gave me a stern, "We'll stay open late tonight, and you are in charge of the store," and disappeared into the office that sat beside the boutique part of the store and across the hall from the cats waiting to be adopted.
    Okay, it wasn't like she actually left me "in charge." I could see Sister Mary Angela through the big glass window that took up almost all the wall space on that side of the room, which meant that she could also see me. Yes, she was mega-busy, making calls and doing other important looking stuff, but I did feel her eyes on me pretty often.
    Still, I have to admit that I thought it was cool that Sister Mary Angela—a woman who was supposed to be married to God—was so accepting of us. It made me wonder about if I really had been, to use some of the nun's words, incorrectly painting all religious folks (except for Nyx's religious folks) with the same brush. I don't particularly like to admit when I'm wrong, especially since I seem to have had to do a lot of that kind of admitting lately, but these wimpled women