The Olympian Affair (The Cinder Spires, #2)

by Jim Butcher

His clothing was covered in long cuts—had been slashed to ribbons, really—and at least part of him had been opened up along the way, Grimm believed, judging from the amount of blood soaking the rags. Sir Benedict was a tall man with a thick brush of tawny brown hair and muttonchops and the vertically slitted green-gold eyes of a cat, the telltale marker of the warriorborn. He looked grim and exhausted. He was also covered in . . . Grimm blinked. The man was covered in kittens.

“Trust Rowl’s senses. Cats are far better equipped to survive the surface than humans.” Rowl preened smugly. “If you are doing this to flatter me and gain my approval, half-soul . . . you should continue. It is effective.”

I really do hate that such a show is made of these things,” Abigail said to Miss Lancaster as she prepared to mount the dueling platform. “Honestly, people should have better things to do.” “Better things to do than watch highborn ladies stab each other with swords, or better things to do than physically assaulting visiting heads of state?” Gwen wondered politely. “Yes, well,” Abigail said, giving her an arch look. “Politics being what they are.”