Lily’s radiant smile assured her she’d made the right decision. “Thanks, Ris.”
“Anything for my baby sister.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “You’re one hour older than me.”
“A lot can—”
“—happen in an hour. Yeah, yeah, I know.”
After saying her goodbyes, Iris stepped out of the heated building onto the snowy street. Head down, hands stuffed into her pockets, she headed straight for home, her mind blank. She definitely didn’t think about stupid Meph or wonder why he wouldn’t look at her.
You’re a shallow piece of shit with no substance or personality.
She winced and then immediately slipped on black ice on the sidewalk. Only her hand snapping out to catch her on a stop-sign pole kept her from landing on her ass. Cursing, she shook her head roughly to dislodge the memory. Walking absentmindedly in winter was a good way to end up with a bruised tailbone.
This time, her gaze remained fixed on the ground as she went, face tucked into her parka to keep the frigid wind from biting at her cheeks. The moment her foot landed on the bottom step of her apartment stairs, a soft whine reached her ears. She jerked her head up and saw a fuzzy black blob outside her front door.
Frowning, she hurried up the steps as fast as she could without slipping on the ice—which wasn’t very fast. The majority of Montreal apartments had outdoor staircases leading to the upper-level flats, oftentimes with spiraling steps and decorative wrought-iron railings.
Fun. In summer. Whoever’s bright idea that was had obviously never had to climb a staircase in a snowstorm. Thankfully, Iris reached the safety of the covered balcony unscathed.
And then she saw the puppy.
It whined in the cold, its big, well,puppyeyes staring at her amid a fluffy mound of downy black fur. It was sitting outside her door, on her doormat, like a present.
It was the cutest thing she’d ever seen.
“You poor baby,” Iris cooed, racing to the precious creature and scooping him up. She quickly unzipped her coat and tucked his tiny, quivering form inside, her heart cracking.
Turning around, she scanned the vicinity for signs of his nearby owner, desperately searching for their beloved pet who had somehow escaped. The neighborhood remained silent and still, however.
Iris’s eyes narrowed. What kind of lowlife left a puppy outside in this weather? It wasn’t like he could have wandered off. It was too cold for aimless dog walking, and he was too tiny to navigate a snowbank by himself.
Giving up on finding his owner, who didn’t deserve to have a dog anyway, she spun toward her front door and fumbled with her house keys. Once inside, she ditched her winter gear and carried the puppy to the couch, where she wrapped them both up in a warm blanket. Grimalkin peeked his head around the corner and hissed at the harmless animal like he’d come to bring doom upon them all.
Finally, the puppy stopped shivering, and Iris was able to quell the urge to kill someone. Only then did she open the blanket and peek at the little bundle in her arms.
He was so black and fluffy, she almost couldn’t distinguish his shape. But his paws were big enough that she could already tell he was going to be a huge dog. He had unusual reddish eyes. She’d never seen a dog with eyes like that before, and, of course, she was unable to stop herself from making a comparison to the only other person she knew with eyes that color.
“Of course even the damn dog would remind me of him,” she grumbled.
The puppy just grinned at her in that dopey puppy way, tongue lolling, little tail wagging. Damn it, he looked even more like Meph now.
From out in the hallway, Grimalkin made a godawful wail, and Iris sighed. Guess he wasn’t a fan of her new friend. She’d always disagreed vehemently with Lily when she called Grimalkin a jerk, but she understood. To say Grim wasn’t friendly to strangers was putting it mildly.
Iris lifted the puppy up, his stubby little legs dangling from her grip, and he continued to grin at her. His tail wagged expectantly.
“Well, now what?”
By that evening, Iris was exhausted. She left the puppy alone for five minutes to scarf down a hastily made sandwich, only to return and find her sofa pillow in shreds, bits of white fluff scattered across the floor like snowflakes. He sat amid the chaos with his little tail thumping on the floor.
“I left you alone for five seconds, damn it!”
His tongue lolled. Bloody hell, he was so cute.
“At least you didn’t pee on the floor again,” she said with a sigh.
A moment later, he tottered down the hallway, and Iris quickly swept up the carnage so she could find him before he destroyed something else. Grimalkin’s howl moments later indicated he’d chosen his second favorite pastime after eating furniture—tormenting the cat. She dropped her head back and groaned.
