Katz had been captured, his usually elegant lies falling on deaf ears of the security guards. Much like his appearance suggested with vivid colors of blue, black, and various shades of red, they beat him up. It was very likely that they, the guards and the facility itself, would have done more to him if Saoirse hadn't saved him.
Perhaps the most lasting part of his treatment there was the small clip of flesh they took off of his right ear. The bruises and cuts would fade, heal, but that would remain. His eyes would soon harden and fill with suspicion, distrust, hatred even more than before as time went on. For now, and perhaps later, there was a pinprick of gratitude and sympathy to Saoirse when his gaze rested on her.
Unfortunately, Saoirse wasn't fully aware of this, let alone coherent enough to take advantage of it. There were many great benefits to reap from her heroic adventure – and questions, as to why she bothered to save Katz at all – but she was too far in sorrow to see them.
The past few days were spent in the motel. Katz would slip out occasionally and bring back food, most of which Saoirse ignored, and to take care of his next big black market business - whatever that was. Saoirse didn't notice or care. Of course she had expected and been a bit prepared to become his pet after they found the Terriers...but she hadn't fully, truly ever imagined them being dead. When they found them, she had expected to say farewell to their teary eyes, not their corpses. Not that she'd be able to see their corpses either since they were still in that government building. That tore her up further - she wanted to bury them at the farm house, at their home...but no, even that was denied to her.
At the fourth or fifth day of his new pet's listlessness, Katz decided to let his lovely spiders meander through the room. She hardly flinched. Perhaps she thought that if they bit her, they might poison her just enough to put an end to her grief. Perhaps she just didn't care. Whatever the reason, Katz found himself irked at her lack of response. It was no fun when she didn't play.
Nearly two weeks later, Katz decided that she had grieved enough. That and he was growing tired of her sadness. He told her to pack her things, they were going to move into his new black market store – a book store. The books, he explained with pride, were books of all sorts and common kind, but there were also ones the government disliked in the back. They were the books blacklisted and the ones that would be burned alongside of their owner if they were ever discovered.
Saoirse, much to his irritation, didn't seem to care about his store and obeyed without a fuss in packing. No, he thought, that simply would not do. As he drove them to their new store/home several dozen miles away, Katz tried to come up with a plan to break her stupor.
Well, there was one thing that might anger her just enough for that…
When they arrived at the store – Katz' Bookstore – and their bags were in the single bedroom in the back, Katz waited. Eventually he gave her an order to go dust the shelves in the back, the books hidden away from all but high paying customers.
Those blacklisted, forbidden books were primarily from the Terriers' own library. They were dead, what use of these precious, expensive books could do for them? Katz listened intently as he heard Saoirse's footsteps towards the shelf he meant. Then they stopped. He counted. Surely she saw them by now. Why wasn't she roaring at him, throwing things, threatening to kill him or something of the like? He had stolen their books, he was going to sell them for profit and yet…
Scowling, Katz walked over to the back and froze. There was Saoirse seated on the floor, a book in hand, tears quietly streaming down her face. He groaned inwardly. Great, that backfired. Snatching the book back from her, he snapped it shut. "Enough with your tears, girl! Get back to work!" Yet again, he did not get the rise from her that he wanted. Damn it all! The only thing he received from this deal – aside from these lovely books that would fetch a pretty penny – was a miserable human and a clipped ear!
Throwing the book to the side, cost be damned, he stormed out of the room.
It didn't take long for customers to start coming in. Most were wonderers, ones that really did just want the latest novel of the popular fiction series, but a few were looking for banned books. Saoirse said little, found the books the customer(s) wanted, and handled some of the money. Katz had to resist the urge to grab her collar and shake the words out of her.
Almost a week later, the bell rang to signal that someone had come in. "Oooh, what a lovely bookstore that's opened – and just a few miles down the road!" A whimsical woman's voice rang out.
"Eh, it don't have the newspaper! It's worthless!" A grumpy man's voice was heard shortly afterwards.
Saoirse's heart seized at the familiar tones. She looked up from the daze she had been in while Katz glanced up from his accounting book. Before he could speak, for he too realized the voices sounded familiar, the human darted out to the front. If that wasn't proof she was still alive!
When Saoirse stepped out, she saw familiar, lovely faces. Eustace in his grumbling fashion, Muriel in her awestruck state, and Courage in his timid, but cautiously curious nature.
"Courage!" The young lady's voice cracked from being used for the first time in ages. She ran forward and nearly tackled her friend, new tears of mixed emotions released. "Courage!"
"Saoirse!" He gave out a warming cry, almost like a bark. He was smiling wide as Muriel echoed her name.
"Muriel, Eustace…what are you doing here?" Her throat hurt but she wouldn't remain silent with her friends.
"We heard there was a new bookstore opened and Courage was hoping to pick up something for inspiration." Muriel stated as she adjusted her glasses, hugging Saoirse when Courage let her go. "We're only about ten miles down the road, you know."
They were?! Saoirse wondered if that was accidental, but before she could glance back suspiciously at Katz, Courage spoke next, "What are you doing here?" Then as if on cue, Katz walked out from the back, pushing the curtain aside. Courage's happy demeanor turned into a threatening growl, his eyes narrowed and ears lowered.
There stood his answer. Katz had one hand on his hip, the other at his side. He wore a deep red shirt with khaki pants, his hair smoothed back and his eyes sharp, tail flickering. Despite the clip to his ear – the only evidence of abuse since his bruises had healed – he looked snobbish as normal.
"She works and belongs to me now, dear boy." Katz purred with content and a hint of daring as though to provoke Courage.
It nearly worked. Courage growled deeper, louder, but luckily Saoirse turned around before he could react. The look of heartbreak Saoirse wore, reminded thanks to Katz' appearance and words, sobered Courage immediately. His head tilted, his ear up slightly. Muriel and even Eustace was watching her now.
Swallowing thickly, she explained, "The Terriers are dead. I now belong to Katz…as part of…our deal." Courage's mouth dropped while Muriel gasped. Eustace made a disgruntled noise and turned away, looking through the biography section of all the great animals.
Muriel took out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. Saoirse couldn't see anything else since her own vision blurred with tears. She jumped at a sudden touch, but relaxed to realize it was Courage who had wrapped his arms around her, hugging her, holding her as they both cried. Courage let out a little howl of sorrow, much to Katz' displeasure.
For his part, Katz busied himself with cleaning the counter. It was as much privacy as he would afford his human. Muriel blew her nose before shaking her head, offering Saoirse her condolences. As she slipped away to her husband, Courage sniffed and glanced around. He stepped back just enough to see Saoirse's face before he spoke, a sort of spark in his eye – determination.
"Saoirse," the young writer spoke gently, "this situation with Katz…" he clearly didn't approve, "…I've known you and the Terriers for years. This isn't what they'd want, what you want." Pause. "Would you like to come live with me?"