"Be glad he isn't after your head," she replied with a good-natured smile, despite her words. The dog followed them into the kitchen and contented himself to lay at the door, out of the way of her working for the time being. "He used to walk with my mother when she'd go shopping. She never was attacked but I know he wouldn't hesitate to tear someone's throat out to keep her safe." If she'd taken him the night she met Quentin... Well, best not to think about that. She might still have her mother or she might have lost her mabari too.

"Believe me," she grinned from over her shoulder, "You'll be put to work. But I'd rather not have you blindly roaming the house when it's dark. There'll be another time for that." She took the one pot out to fill it with water, about two-thirds of the way, until she was satisfied that nothing they put in it would cause it to overflow onto the fire.

She brought it back and hooked it over the fireplace to let it begin to boil. "We might have to make two batches, one with half of the crabs and the small ones, and the other half can be cooked while we eat."