CHAPTER THIRTY
Becca now had a metric crapton of problems: her brother was a rat, dying on her palm, a giant hyena man had broken into her apartment and was panting like a dog with hot saliva dripping from his mouth, a raven was perched on her television, and her heart was racing so fast, it was a miracle she hadn't fainted yet. Not to mention the dozens of patrons downstairs who were probably wondering what was going on. Before long, her employees who would come looking for her and ask questions.
She tried to ignore the business and focused on Cyrus. “It's going to be okay.”
This convulsing brown, hairy mass in her palm was…her brother. And if she didn’t do something, he’d die. She should have been freaking out about the fact that she held a rat in her hand, but instead, she was tender
